The two men stand, wands drawn, poised to begin a battle that will surely level the building, the culmination of all their rivalry.
The days of their schooling seem almost peaceful in comparison to these last few weeks.
They have visited upon each other countless indignities, vile tortures, hateful words.
Today, however, came the strain that finally set fire to the tinder, and none, muggle or wizard, will survive to come between them.
Harry stops, to speak the final words before the battle, his justification for the willingness to commit murder.
"It was your turn to do the dishes, Malfoy."