Harry crawled out from beneath the destroyed tables. His heart pounded like
a jackhammer beating on his chest, and he could only gasp for air. Green
shots of light were seen erupting from wands in the great hall. Harry would
never have imagined that such a battle would take place where he and his
counterparts have had breakfast for the past seven years. Now in his
seventh and last year, Harry was a tall, muscular athlete with the same
dark brown hair. His body was bronze and quidditch-toned, and many girls
longed to be able to be his girlfriend. They flirted with him whenever they
could, but his heart still remained with his true love, Cho Chang. Now,
however, Harry was evidently not in good shape.
Harry's scar was burning like hell, causing his head to throb. He could not even think straight, as memories flashed before him like a pensieve. The deatheaters had somehow found a way to get past the invisible barriers surrounding Hogwarts ("from prying muggle eyes") and attacked whomever got in their way, but their targets were mainly Harry, Neville, and the half- blood prince. Their goal was to torment the boys and to kill them in the end, but leaving Harry for the dark lord to handle himself, of course. Some of the more skilful seventh years in Dumbledore's Army were trying desperately to hold them off. Dumbledore was no where to be seen, having disappeared mysteriously into the night, rumored to be after Voldemort.
Voldemort had not yet arrived, and the great hall was already like a war- zone. Lying a few feet from Harry lay a fallen Hermione. The beautiful headgirl had tried to save her boyfriend Draco (elected as headboy), from a death curse from a shrieking Bellastrix LeStrange. The deatheaters were outraged at Draco, as he refused to join the dark lord after both his parents had been sent to Azkaban for using the unforgivable curses. The green spark hit her right in her chest, and she fell like a log before she could mutter a counter-curse. Draco was, of course, heartbroken, and he was about to suffer the same fate had it not been his favorite teacher Professor Snape. Professor Snape disarmed LeStrange and stunned her before giving her a full-body bind.
Meanwhile in another part of the room, the father of two of Malfoy's goons, Crabbe and Goyle, and several other deatheaters continued dueling. Nymphadora Tonks was dueling two at a time, changing the color of her hair at random intervals hoping to distract the evil men. Everyone in the hall was skilful in one way or another, and the battle was intense. Suddenly, the clumsy Tonks tripped as she moved backward away from the advancing men, but Neville came to rescue. Appearing out of nowhere, Neville clutched Harry's beloved Firebolt, and began using the broom as a weapon to beat the head of Goyle, thrashing like a lunatic. Surprisingly, Goyle was much shorter than his son. Goyle moaned in his low voice, but Crabbe shoved Neville out of the way and checked whether Goyle was alright. Taking the chance, Tonks and a nearby Kingsley hollered the leg-lock jinx at both. Simultaneously, the bulky men fell like felled trees. Tonks beamed at Kingsley, but her facial expression became a look of terror when the doors of the hall burst open.
It was Voldemort. Adorning a battered robe, Voldemort was pale, and his lips were a disgusting shade of silver. Gasps were heard within the room, and as the dark lord paraded towards the fallen Harry, everyone in the hall besides them both collapsed, probably the effect of dark magic. Harry's green eyes glistening in horror as his hand clutched his wand. His hand was partly corroded because of a jinx LeStrange had yelled at him. Now Bellastrix's body lay slumped at the foot of the headmaster's dining chair. Harry simply could not resist smirking when he saw her.
The dark lord's chilly frozen hand held Harry's head up by his chin. Voldemort's other hand caressed Harry's hair and face, then there was a pause. Before Voldemort began stroking Harry's face. "Beautiful, just like your extremely photogenic parents. And ah, that look of hatred, just like your imbecile of a father's. That is, before, I hit him with the killing curse, of course". His lips curled into a wicked smile as he hissed under his breath.
Harry shivered, and the dark lord let go of him, drawing his wand. Harry's wand now lay under Voldemort's foot. Harry's mouth opened to speak, barely being able to word his sentences properly. "Sonorous!" the dark lord yelled, and Harry's voice was louder at an instant. "Come...nearer...please...I can't do anything. I only want you to open the locket there to show me a picture of me and my friends playing last winter" Harry said, as he rolled his eyes into the direction of Hermione's locket. Voldemort cackled wickedly for a few moments, before speaking. "Very well, but this better not be a stupid trick of yours. After all, I'll be done with you as Dumbledore is long dead. Three hits is what it took, although I admit, it did take a lot of courage. Using many hooded figures to confuse him was absolutely genius though."
Harry did not know what to think. He only wanted to lose himself from reality. As Voldemort bent down to pick up the locket, Harry mustered enough strength and lunged forward, kissing the dark lord passionately. Voldemort was shocked, and smiled, but it was only a few seconds before Voldemort was dead. Bright, blinding lights had filled the great wall, followed by a deafening explosion that seemed to come from within Voldemort himself. As Harry tried to untangle his thoughts, he thought back to his first year when he had gotten rid of Professor Quirrel just by touching him. His touch filled with his mother's love. At the last minute, when Voldemort was touching his face, it occurred to Harry that it was indeed love. The most powerful tool necessary. Obviously Voldemort was in strong form, and it took more than a simple touch to kill him. But love finally overcame hate when Harry delivered the kiss. When Harry kissed Voldemort, his lips were nearly frozen when they came in contact with Voldemort's face. The strange thing is, the dark lord did not really want to pull away from the kiss. "Love," Harry reassured himself.
The great hall suddenly became alive again, as everyone awoke from their deep sleep. They were dazed at first, but within moments, they came to Harry's aid; wands out.
"Harry," his father's good friend Remus Lupin said, "Have some chocolate, it will help."
Harry took the chocolate, and nodded as everyone asked is he was okay. This was before he collapsed into the arms of Cho Chang.
He didn't even hear when Ron and Ginny Weasley exclaimed:
It's gone, the scar is gone!
Harry's scar was burning like hell, causing his head to throb. He could not even think straight, as memories flashed before him like a pensieve. The deatheaters had somehow found a way to get past the invisible barriers surrounding Hogwarts ("from prying muggle eyes") and attacked whomever got in their way, but their targets were mainly Harry, Neville, and the half- blood prince. Their goal was to torment the boys and to kill them in the end, but leaving Harry for the dark lord to handle himself, of course. Some of the more skilful seventh years in Dumbledore's Army were trying desperately to hold them off. Dumbledore was no where to be seen, having disappeared mysteriously into the night, rumored to be after Voldemort.
Voldemort had not yet arrived, and the great hall was already like a war- zone. Lying a few feet from Harry lay a fallen Hermione. The beautiful headgirl had tried to save her boyfriend Draco (elected as headboy), from a death curse from a shrieking Bellastrix LeStrange. The deatheaters were outraged at Draco, as he refused to join the dark lord after both his parents had been sent to Azkaban for using the unforgivable curses. The green spark hit her right in her chest, and she fell like a log before she could mutter a counter-curse. Draco was, of course, heartbroken, and he was about to suffer the same fate had it not been his favorite teacher Professor Snape. Professor Snape disarmed LeStrange and stunned her before giving her a full-body bind.
Meanwhile in another part of the room, the father of two of Malfoy's goons, Crabbe and Goyle, and several other deatheaters continued dueling. Nymphadora Tonks was dueling two at a time, changing the color of her hair at random intervals hoping to distract the evil men. Everyone in the hall was skilful in one way or another, and the battle was intense. Suddenly, the clumsy Tonks tripped as she moved backward away from the advancing men, but Neville came to rescue. Appearing out of nowhere, Neville clutched Harry's beloved Firebolt, and began using the broom as a weapon to beat the head of Goyle, thrashing like a lunatic. Surprisingly, Goyle was much shorter than his son. Goyle moaned in his low voice, but Crabbe shoved Neville out of the way and checked whether Goyle was alright. Taking the chance, Tonks and a nearby Kingsley hollered the leg-lock jinx at both. Simultaneously, the bulky men fell like felled trees. Tonks beamed at Kingsley, but her facial expression became a look of terror when the doors of the hall burst open.
It was Voldemort. Adorning a battered robe, Voldemort was pale, and his lips were a disgusting shade of silver. Gasps were heard within the room, and as the dark lord paraded towards the fallen Harry, everyone in the hall besides them both collapsed, probably the effect of dark magic. Harry's green eyes glistening in horror as his hand clutched his wand. His hand was partly corroded because of a jinx LeStrange had yelled at him. Now Bellastrix's body lay slumped at the foot of the headmaster's dining chair. Harry simply could not resist smirking when he saw her.
The dark lord's chilly frozen hand held Harry's head up by his chin. Voldemort's other hand caressed Harry's hair and face, then there was a pause. Before Voldemort began stroking Harry's face. "Beautiful, just like your extremely photogenic parents. And ah, that look of hatred, just like your imbecile of a father's. That is, before, I hit him with the killing curse, of course". His lips curled into a wicked smile as he hissed under his breath.
Harry shivered, and the dark lord let go of him, drawing his wand. Harry's wand now lay under Voldemort's foot. Harry's mouth opened to speak, barely being able to word his sentences properly. "Sonorous!" the dark lord yelled, and Harry's voice was louder at an instant. "Come...nearer...please...I can't do anything. I only want you to open the locket there to show me a picture of me and my friends playing last winter" Harry said, as he rolled his eyes into the direction of Hermione's locket. Voldemort cackled wickedly for a few moments, before speaking. "Very well, but this better not be a stupid trick of yours. After all, I'll be done with you as Dumbledore is long dead. Three hits is what it took, although I admit, it did take a lot of courage. Using many hooded figures to confuse him was absolutely genius though."
Harry did not know what to think. He only wanted to lose himself from reality. As Voldemort bent down to pick up the locket, Harry mustered enough strength and lunged forward, kissing the dark lord passionately. Voldemort was shocked, and smiled, but it was only a few seconds before Voldemort was dead. Bright, blinding lights had filled the great wall, followed by a deafening explosion that seemed to come from within Voldemort himself. As Harry tried to untangle his thoughts, he thought back to his first year when he had gotten rid of Professor Quirrel just by touching him. His touch filled with his mother's love. At the last minute, when Voldemort was touching his face, it occurred to Harry that it was indeed love. The most powerful tool necessary. Obviously Voldemort was in strong form, and it took more than a simple touch to kill him. But love finally overcame hate when Harry delivered the kiss. When Harry kissed Voldemort, his lips were nearly frozen when they came in contact with Voldemort's face. The strange thing is, the dark lord did not really want to pull away from the kiss. "Love," Harry reassured himself.
The great hall suddenly became alive again, as everyone awoke from their deep sleep. They were dazed at first, but within moments, they came to Harry's aid; wands out.
"Harry," his father's good friend Remus Lupin said, "Have some chocolate, it will help."
Harry took the chocolate, and nodded as everyone asked is he was okay. This was before he collapsed into the arms of Cho Chang.
He didn't even hear when Ron and Ginny Weasley exclaimed:
It's gone, the scar is gone!