Part Five: Glory
Time flies/and then no need to endure anymore/time dies
They arrive sooner than he expected. He does not recognize his surroundings, and no one seems to be there. The army sorts themselves behind him, and when the rustling dies down, he throws back his head and shouts out words in Parseltongue, demanding his enemy to come forth. He cannot recall what they are, but they seem to work. Black figures apparate quickly, hooded so he cannot see their faces. He shakes his head, more to fight the nausea quickly swelling in his stomach than to acknowledge the enemy.
He feels a rush of cold, and he knows that Voldemort has entered the room. He raises his eyes to face his foe. The face before him is exactly like the one burned into his brain: white and snakelike with smoldering red eyes. It is the face that murdered countless people. It is the face that may murder him. The mouth opens and begins to hiss.
"Shut up!" he blurts out. "This was never about words. Let's get down to it, shall we?" He hears a gasp from his side (he presumes it to be Ginny, but refuses to check), then a hastily muttered curse and a shining red light hits a Death Eater. The battle begins.
He is not aware of the war surrounding him, as he tirelessly focuses on the murder he was destined to commit. It seems futile, as he shields countless curses and wonders what miracle could pull the events in his favor.
He is quite horrified to discover it's not a miracle at all.
It isn't until Voldemort turns away from him that he notices everyone lying motionless on the ground behind him. Everyone except Albus Dumbledore. The wicked gleam in his opponent's eye grows as bright as the sun, so bright it is painful to see. He knows what is about to happen before it takes place, yet he remains motionless. Dumbledore does not raise his wand, but looks at Harry as the green jet of light takes away the last bit of light left in his eyes. He feels the pain in his scar return with brute force, and falls to his knees. He can't help but feel that he's failed everyone.
Suddenly, he is on his feet. He figures it's a curse, but Voldemort is unmoving. He's moving his mouth, shouting words he does not know. His wand is swishing through the air, and orange light fills the room.
Just as quickly everything is black, and as he falls to the ground he assumes it's the end.
Time flies/and then no need to endure anymore/time dies
They arrive sooner than he expected. He does not recognize his surroundings, and no one seems to be there. The army sorts themselves behind him, and when the rustling dies down, he throws back his head and shouts out words in Parseltongue, demanding his enemy to come forth. He cannot recall what they are, but they seem to work. Black figures apparate quickly, hooded so he cannot see their faces. He shakes his head, more to fight the nausea quickly swelling in his stomach than to acknowledge the enemy.
He feels a rush of cold, and he knows that Voldemort has entered the room. He raises his eyes to face his foe. The face before him is exactly like the one burned into his brain: white and snakelike with smoldering red eyes. It is the face that murdered countless people. It is the face that may murder him. The mouth opens and begins to hiss.
"Shut up!" he blurts out. "This was never about words. Let's get down to it, shall we?" He hears a gasp from his side (he presumes it to be Ginny, but refuses to check), then a hastily muttered curse and a shining red light hits a Death Eater. The battle begins.
He is not aware of the war surrounding him, as he tirelessly focuses on the murder he was destined to commit. It seems futile, as he shields countless curses and wonders what miracle could pull the events in his favor.
He is quite horrified to discover it's not a miracle at all.
It isn't until Voldemort turns away from him that he notices everyone lying motionless on the ground behind him. Everyone except Albus Dumbledore. The wicked gleam in his opponent's eye grows as bright as the sun, so bright it is painful to see. He knows what is about to happen before it takes place, yet he remains motionless. Dumbledore does not raise his wand, but looks at Harry as the green jet of light takes away the last bit of light left in his eyes. He feels the pain in his scar return with brute force, and falls to his knees. He can't help but feel that he's failed everyone.
Suddenly, he is on his feet. He figures it's a curse, but Voldemort is unmoving. He's moving his mouth, shouting words he does not know. His wand is swishing through the air, and orange light fills the room.
Just as quickly everything is black, and as he falls to the ground he assumes it's the end.