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 five: love and self sacrifice.
Harry's breath caught in his throat. His eyes were drawn upwards to meet Voldemort's, dark hollow ones. He could feel Voldemort's mind inside his, probing his thoughts. They held their gaze for what felt like hours, while the battle raged on around them. Harry couldn't hear the screams of people dying, anymore. Harry couldn't feel the pain anymore, from his broken and bloody leg. He couldn't move anymore, but thankfully, Harry thought, Voldemort looked away. Harry hadn't realised that Voldemort had found out all the information, from Harry's mind, that he had wanted to know.
Harry could only watch as Voldemort reached down and pulled Draco to his feet. Draco's hand slid out of Harry's, to fall by his side. Harry was in shock from Voldemort's unexpected actions, and was caused a further surprise when Draco's eye lids flickered open, revealing piercing silver eyes, that looked at Harry with deep emotion. Harry was taken aback by what he saw reflected in Draco's eyes; fear, hope, trust and most of all; love. Harry's heart leapt despite the terrible situation they were in.
Voldemort backed away from Harry, so that he could asses the situation. He pointed his wand at Harry, and then at Draco, his least faithful servant. Voldemort was going to kill Draco later, in terrible pain, but for now he needed him alive. "The only way to kill Potter, the boy who was my downfall all those years ago by pure chance, was by destroying him emotionally. This can be achieved through killing the one person who he loves the most; the young Malfoy," thought Voldemort. By now his wand was pointed directly at the side of Draco's head. The young Malfoy, for his part, was not fighting against the threat of Voldemort himself; he had realised that fighting it was vain.
All this time Harry had remained on the muddy ground but he had, by now, haled himself up into a sitting position, but the loss of the use of his leg, meant that couldn't easily rise to his feet.
Harry's mind wouldn't let him accept the situation; the knowledge that Voldemort was going to kill Draco, who was trusting him for the first time ever in all the years they had known each other. Harry couldn't bear to let Draco down, to let him be killed by Voldemort, because Harry had, only today, discovered that Draco had real emotions behind the cold exterior walls that he had built up around him self.
A wave of emotion washed over Harry, and he was taken aback by what he found; he wanted to save Draco because he loved him. How could he not have realised in all the years they had been at school together. Draco had been the only one who could succeed to draw out deep and passionate emotions from him, when all others failed in their attempts. He had always watched Draco move between classes to make sure he wouldn't sneak up behind him and curse him, or so Harry had thought. Now though it was too late, too late for speech, wild emotions.
Harry knew what he had to do. With his right hand his pushed him self off of the ground, so that he was stood, facing the figure that was Voldemort. He reached to the belt, slung about his waste, and found the hilt of the sword. As he pulled it out of its sheath, it shone and glimmered, the rubies blazing like red hot coals. His grip tightened on its hilt, and it came free of its confines. Harry was beginning to see stars again; the weight being put on his broken leg was almost unbearable.
Harry raised the silver blade, and to Voldemort's utter confusion, pointed its tip towards him self. Harry heard Draco inhale deeply, realising what Harry was planning to do, yet unable to stop it.
With one final effort, Harry pulled the sword towards him self and felt pain as the biting steel broke his flesh, causing warm blood to seep in to his robes, staining them a vivid red.
Hope remains.
Chapter five: love and self sacrifice.
Harry's breath caught in his throat. His eyes were drawn upwards to meet Voldemort's, dark hollow ones. He could feel Voldemort's mind inside his, probing his thoughts. They held their gaze for what felt like hours, while the battle raged on around them. Harry couldn't hear the screams of people dying, anymore. Harry couldn't feel the pain anymore, from his broken and bloody leg. He couldn't move anymore, but thankfully, Harry thought, Voldemort looked away. Harry hadn't realised that Voldemort had found out all the information, from Harry's mind, that he had wanted to know.
Harry could only watch as Voldemort reached down and pulled Draco to his feet. Draco's hand slid out of Harry's, to fall by his side. Harry was in shock from Voldemort's unexpected actions, and was caused a further surprise when Draco's eye lids flickered open, revealing piercing silver eyes, that looked at Harry with deep emotion. Harry was taken aback by what he saw reflected in Draco's eyes; fear, hope, trust and most of all; love. Harry's heart leapt despite the terrible situation they were in.
Voldemort backed away from Harry, so that he could asses the situation. He pointed his wand at Harry, and then at Draco, his least faithful servant. Voldemort was going to kill Draco later, in terrible pain, but for now he needed him alive. "The only way to kill Potter, the boy who was my downfall all those years ago by pure chance, was by destroying him emotionally. This can be achieved through killing the one person who he loves the most; the young Malfoy," thought Voldemort. By now his wand was pointed directly at the side of Draco's head. The young Malfoy, for his part, was not fighting against the threat of Voldemort himself; he had realised that fighting it was vain.
All this time Harry had remained on the muddy ground but he had, by now, haled himself up into a sitting position, but the loss of the use of his leg, meant that couldn't easily rise to his feet.
Harry's mind wouldn't let him accept the situation; the knowledge that Voldemort was going to kill Draco, who was trusting him for the first time ever in all the years they had known each other. Harry couldn't bear to let Draco down, to let him be killed by Voldemort, because Harry had, only today, discovered that Draco had real emotions behind the cold exterior walls that he had built up around him self.
A wave of emotion washed over Harry, and he was taken aback by what he found; he wanted to save Draco because he loved him. How could he not have realised in all the years they had been at school together. Draco had been the only one who could succeed to draw out deep and passionate emotions from him, when all others failed in their attempts. He had always watched Draco move between classes to make sure he wouldn't sneak up behind him and curse him, or so Harry had thought. Now though it was too late, too late for speech, wild emotions.
Harry knew what he had to do. With his right hand his pushed him self off of the ground, so that he was stood, facing the figure that was Voldemort. He reached to the belt, slung about his waste, and found the hilt of the sword. As he pulled it out of its sheath, it shone and glimmered, the rubies blazing like red hot coals. His grip tightened on its hilt, and it came free of its confines. Harry was beginning to see stars again; the weight being put on his broken leg was almost unbearable.
Harry raised the silver blade, and to Voldemort's utter confusion, pointed its tip towards him self. Harry heard Draco inhale deeply, realising what Harry was planning to do, yet unable to stop it.
With one final effort, Harry pulled the sword towards him self and felt pain as the biting steel broke his flesh, causing warm blood to seep in to his robes, staining them a vivid red.