It's the Final Battle between good and evil. Harry falls for someone
unexpected.
Warning: mild slash, angst themes and character deaths. Please R&R.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters only the plot line.
Hope remains.
Chapter One: the day of reckoning.
A seventeen year old Harry Potter stood in the Great Hall of Hogwarts Castle. He hadn't grown in stature much more since fifth year, but he had become stronger emotionally. He was dressed from head to toe in a brown shirt and jeans over which he wore rich, sleeveless black robes to allow for easier movement. His wand was in his right hand, the other hanging at his side. He wore a leather belt around his waste on which hung a sword, concealed within its unadorned sheath so that only the ruby incrusted hilt was within view. The sword was none other than Godric Gryffindor's sword, which the Sorting Hat had given to Harry in his second year. Also on his belt hung an assortment of bottles, two dark green bottles containing healing drafts, one small crystal bottle containing veritaserum, but mostly containing poisons that could not just injure severely but kill quickly.
The Great Hall was exactly the same as it had always been, with its roof charmed to appear like the sky out side and its large oak doors, except now it looked older, more rundown and neglected.
The crowds of the other students were gathered around him; talking in hushed apprehensive tones. Harry glanced around the room; every face was showing fear, except those belonging to a small group of seventh year Slytherins. Their faces were smug and gleeful, each with its familiar sneer set in place. Draco Malfoy and his cronies must have sensed Harry watching them, for they turned their heads in his direction, and Malfoy's sneer became more pronounced. Malfoy was dressed in long and flowing dark green robes, so dark that they could only be seen as green when the light reflected on them. Harry hated that smug face, the one that had lived to torment him ever since he came to Hogwarts. Yet in some strange way they were both connected and Harry knew that he felt something for the young, pale, Malfoy, which was not hatred.
Only when Malfoy looked away did Harry continue to look around the Hall. His gaze fell next upon a raised platform at the end of the crowded Great Hall, where all the teachers were congregated. Harry regarded each of the Professors in turn; McGonagall appeared to be her usual self, if only a little bit more thin lipped, Snape however appeared troubled and slightly unnerved, or apprehensive about the coming events, and Albus Dumbledore, the Head Master of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, and the only person of whom Lord Voldemort was ever afraid, looked tired, old and worn out. His eyes no longer shone and twinkled, beneath their half moon glasses, like they once had. Harry's heart went out to the Head Master, felling sorry for the man who had tried so hard to do the best for everyone concerned. Harry continued to watch as Albus rose slowly to his feat, as one overly weary, to address the awaiting crowds. He reached the front of the platform and paused, drawing in a deep breath and slowly he began.
"Today is the day of the Final Battle, The Great War. Today is the day that Voldemort will be over come and the world set once more to rights. Anyone who wishes to help does so of their own free will, but know this." he paused for effect and let his eyes roam across the sea of faces, some of which now appeared determined, whilst others remained scared and nervous. He continued, ".any one who tries to hinder our efforts will be punished by the ministry, who will look kindly towards traitors of the cause. Let us go and see what the day has brought to us." Dumbledore stepped gingerly off the platform, with the teachers all following a few steps behind him. The great swarming mass of students parted as though commanded to do so, allowing the Head Master to pass though the ranks. He walked out of the warm and comforting Great Hall, through the huge oak doors and in to the entrance hall. Harry dashed and pushed past the other students, most of whom had followed Dumbledore out of the Hall, so that he was walking next to the Headmaster. Ron and Hermione caught up with him after a minute or so.
Dumbledore stood, as still and unmoving as stone, before the closed doors which lead out on to the grounds. Harry looked at the Headmaster, whom he had come to respect, and opened his mouth, about to speak, when Dumbledore cut him of.
"Harry, this is your day and the final chance for us. I am so proud of you, my boy. Have hope and we shall prevail." With that he lent forward, and with a strength that belied his age and appearance, pushed open the heavy oak doors.
Hope remains.
Chapter One: the day of reckoning.
A seventeen year old Harry Potter stood in the Great Hall of Hogwarts Castle. He hadn't grown in stature much more since fifth year, but he had become stronger emotionally. He was dressed from head to toe in a brown shirt and jeans over which he wore rich, sleeveless black robes to allow for easier movement. His wand was in his right hand, the other hanging at his side. He wore a leather belt around his waste on which hung a sword, concealed within its unadorned sheath so that only the ruby incrusted hilt was within view. The sword was none other than Godric Gryffindor's sword, which the Sorting Hat had given to Harry in his second year. Also on his belt hung an assortment of bottles, two dark green bottles containing healing drafts, one small crystal bottle containing veritaserum, but mostly containing poisons that could not just injure severely but kill quickly.
The Great Hall was exactly the same as it had always been, with its roof charmed to appear like the sky out side and its large oak doors, except now it looked older, more rundown and neglected.
The crowds of the other students were gathered around him; talking in hushed apprehensive tones. Harry glanced around the room; every face was showing fear, except those belonging to a small group of seventh year Slytherins. Their faces were smug and gleeful, each with its familiar sneer set in place. Draco Malfoy and his cronies must have sensed Harry watching them, for they turned their heads in his direction, and Malfoy's sneer became more pronounced. Malfoy was dressed in long and flowing dark green robes, so dark that they could only be seen as green when the light reflected on them. Harry hated that smug face, the one that had lived to torment him ever since he came to Hogwarts. Yet in some strange way they were both connected and Harry knew that he felt something for the young, pale, Malfoy, which was not hatred.
Only when Malfoy looked away did Harry continue to look around the Hall. His gaze fell next upon a raised platform at the end of the crowded Great Hall, where all the teachers were congregated. Harry regarded each of the Professors in turn; McGonagall appeared to be her usual self, if only a little bit more thin lipped, Snape however appeared troubled and slightly unnerved, or apprehensive about the coming events, and Albus Dumbledore, the Head Master of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, and the only person of whom Lord Voldemort was ever afraid, looked tired, old and worn out. His eyes no longer shone and twinkled, beneath their half moon glasses, like they once had. Harry's heart went out to the Head Master, felling sorry for the man who had tried so hard to do the best for everyone concerned. Harry continued to watch as Albus rose slowly to his feat, as one overly weary, to address the awaiting crowds. He reached the front of the platform and paused, drawing in a deep breath and slowly he began.
"Today is the day of the Final Battle, The Great War. Today is the day that Voldemort will be over come and the world set once more to rights. Anyone who wishes to help does so of their own free will, but know this." he paused for effect and let his eyes roam across the sea of faces, some of which now appeared determined, whilst others remained scared and nervous. He continued, ".any one who tries to hinder our efforts will be punished by the ministry, who will look kindly towards traitors of the cause. Let us go and see what the day has brought to us." Dumbledore stepped gingerly off the platform, with the teachers all following a few steps behind him. The great swarming mass of students parted as though commanded to do so, allowing the Head Master to pass though the ranks. He walked out of the warm and comforting Great Hall, through the huge oak doors and in to the entrance hall. Harry dashed and pushed past the other students, most of whom had followed Dumbledore out of the Hall, so that he was walking next to the Headmaster. Ron and Hermione caught up with him after a minute or so.
Dumbledore stood, as still and unmoving as stone, before the closed doors which lead out on to the grounds. Harry looked at the Headmaster, whom he had come to respect, and opened his mouth, about to speak, when Dumbledore cut him of.
"Harry, this is your day and the final chance for us. I am so proud of you, my boy. Have hope and we shall prevail." With that he lent forward, and with a strength that belied his age and appearance, pushed open the heavy oak doors.