Neither can Live While the Other Survives …

Chapter Seven:

Summary: Either must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives … the Prophecy is about to be fulfilled …who will die at the other's hand? Can Harry say everything he wants to say before it's too late?  Harry must vanquish the Dark Lord, or the Dark Lord will vanquish him …

Disclaimer: I own this plot as no one but JK herself knows how it will end. Oh, there goes an odd coloured carrot embedded inside the ever-approaching iceberg. And a monkey. Oh I forgot about the floral patterns it possesses.

SillieGillie: It's too cool? Lol, is that even possible?

Lil ole me 97: Be patient my friend, all will be revealed.

Sakura Sayoran: Lol, I do thank you for recommending my story. Just make sure you keep reviewing! Lol.

Mystikalolo: Hmm, *offers a bottle of Hair Regeneration Fluid as Mystikalolo obviously has the sorry syndrome. Begs her to stop as the Fluid only works in special cases*.

Marauder 3 Moony: You're a little sick you know? Lol. Never mind, sick is good. Hmm, perhaps Voldie will not win, but that doesn't necessarily mean Harry will survive … *laughs evilly then realises how silly she looks so subsides hastily*.

Anne Phoenix: Invincible Harry? By no means!

Templa Otmena: *Pouts as has not yet received GND review … L* only joking. Don't worry. Just review this one!

Sunny Chika: Wo, experiencing a little bit of schizophrenia there are we? Lol, what a scenario you have! It wasn't in my mind … but it has given me some warped ideas! BTW, I don't think JK's whole writing style would have Harry or Voldie trip the other up and end in a freak mortal peril accident. Lol, it's cool though.

Phoenix Padfoot: Sorry, it has to end somewhere!

A/N: OK, I know this is indecisive, but I reckon there will be a couple of chapters to go. The rating on this might go up, I don't know, if n e 1 thinks it's a little … graphic … then let me know and I'll change it. Please do it before the site does! I'm terrified it's going to shut me down.

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          "Dumbledore!" Voldemort breathed, breaking his gaze away from Harry, who was very weak from fighting the curse that he had subjected him to. His knees shook violently as he tried to stand and he suddenly felt very sick, retching alternatively. No one noticed though; every eye was on Dumbledore, who was standing, resolute in the middle of the hall. In his hands he held a very small rod it seemed, gold in colour, no longer than that of a pencil.

Voldemort laughed. "He returns! How brave you are, Albus."

Dumbledore pocketed what he held and turned to Harry.

"You must resist as long as you can, Harry …" he said with fear reflecting in his eyes before deflecting an immediate curse, which Voldemort sent at him.

"Kill him!" he shouted at numerous Death Eaters, who were fast diminishing due to the combined efforts and skills of the Order and numerous Aurors from the Ministry of Magic. They obeyed wearily, turning their wands on him. Before Harry knew what was happening, even more spells were flying around, hitting walls and crumbling bricks, as Voldemort came towards him once more.

*

Hermione broke the Bubble surrounding Ron, who stood up shakily.

"Are you all right?" she asked concernedly, looking around quickly for more reasons to duck hurriedly.

"Yeah, I think so!" said Ron. He glanced over to Harry. "Has he got it?"

Hermione shook her head fearfully. "No, Dumbledore still has it."

Ron looked around. "Come on, we can't stay here for ages, we'll be blasted into bloody oblivion!

Hermione nodded, surveying the situation. "Looks like Remus could use our help!" And they sprinted off in Lupin's direction, ducking as they went.

* *

Harry was beginning to feel as though all was lost; Dumbledore had what he wanted, if he could have it right now … he could end this whole thing … but Dumbledore was being set on by no less than twelve Death Eaters. Harry knew perfectly well that Dumbledore could take care of himself in almost any situation, but Harry was beginning to get desperate. Nobody seemed to notice that Voldemort was using the curse again.

"Well, Harry, if you won't tell me the Prophecy then I shall simply have to force it out of you."

Harry almost laughed, mostly out of nerves. "What was that before if it wasn't force?"

Voldemort smirked. "That was a taster."

Harry tensed, ready to raise his wand but –

"Crucio!"

It was too late. Before Harry could even draw breath, the curse had hit him.

          White-hot pain was spreading through his body, coursing like poison, stabbing at every little part of him. Harry knew he had to get out of this, to break it before it was too late …

          Harry … Harry I know you can hear me … Harry … I know the pain is great, but I can make it stop … I can make it all go away Harry … just give me the …

          Go to Hell.

          I've been, Harry, I've been … you do not wish to go there, do you? Nor your friends? Harry … you know how much easier it would be if you gave me the Prophecy …

         

          Please …

          Yes, Harry … yes! Beg a little more … tell me …

          Please … will you …

          I will lift it, Harry … just tell me the Prophecy …

          Please … will you … change the record?

         

          You are disobedient … just like your father. Very well, Harry, I am aware that the knowledge of the Prophecy would have been useful, but since you would rather suffer the pain of watching your friends die, then I will deny you even of that, and dispose of you right now …

          Through the blinding pain, Harry could make out Dumbledore tearing his way through a wall of Death Eaters, sending them scattering … he was drawing out what Harry so needed …

          "Harry!" he called. Harry's eyes were watering with pain, but he screwed them up tight and willed with all his mind for the curse to be lifted … with a tremendous explosion that shook through his entire body, Harry felt the pain lessen, felt an invisible hand become lifted from his back … he had done it … he had repelled Voldemort with his mind, he had done what Dumbledore and Snape had both been preparing him for for three years since it became apparent that Legillimency between the two was possible.

          He knew he still had to stall for a few seconds, just until Dumbledore could get to him …

          "You want to know the Prophecy?" he said quietly. Many around them stopped once again to listen. Some of them looked shocked, appalled that Harry was giving in, some apprehensive, some eagerly awaiting the outcome. Ginny was on her feet, fighting her way through two trolls.

          "Harry, no!" she yelled, unaware of what was happening, believing Harry to give in.

          Harry ignored her, hoping that she would understand, that she would realise …

          Voldemort was suddenly motionless, eyes suddenly alive with excitement, his pupils dilating, and his nostrils flaring.

          "Yes … yes, Harry, that's it …"

          Harry swallowed, looking around.

          "It's all right now …" Voldemort said softly, yet unable to hide his anticipation in his voice. "Tell me the Prophecy … and I may spare your life …"

          Harry's gaze shot to Dumbledore whom he caught out of the corner of his eye breaking free finally of the wall of Death Eaters, many of which he had hit with curses which Harry had never seen before. Dumbledore was meters away … but Harry watched, as though paralysed, as Dumbledore was hit with a Trip Jinx. Dumbledore's eyes widened, and as though Harry were reading his mind, he knew what he was going to do. Dumbledore threw what he was holding in his right arm with all the force he could muster.

          Harry watched the scene slowed down, as though it were all happening in slow motion. A Death Eater lunged for it, but missed as Hermione shot a Stunning Spell at him from the left. Voldemort was surprisingly slow off the mark and did not raise his wand in time. Perhaps he was trying to distinguish what exactly the green glowing object that was flying through the air was, but Harry did not have time to ponder this. He lunged with a trembling hand, extended his fingers and felt them close around the precious item he needed.

          Voldemort did not move; possibly he was wary of what Harry held, or he knew instantly that it was very powerful. Even so, he kept his distance, thoughts of recovering the Prophecy from inside Harry's mind.

          Harry held in his hands the Green Flame Torch. The one thing that could vanquish the Dark Lord for good; not just for twelve years or so, but for good. It was vibrating; Harry could feel it's warmth, it's power, and it's potential to destroy evil. It was long handled, patterns of gold filigree embedded like a tapestry, the end truly like a burning torch except the flames were glowing luminous bright green instead of the red fire produces. The green radiating from the torch matched Harry's eyes perfectly; they did not reflect the light; it was as thought the light was shining from them within. Harry, suddenly supremely confident, looked up into the eyes of his enemy.

          "You still want to know what the Prophecy is?" he said, his voice strong, the Torch warm in his hands, looking into the Torch.

          Voldemort, his eyes still warily on the Torch, did not answer immediately. "You think you can kill me with that thing?" he said quietly. The scene around them was once again frozen; people had come to a halt in headlocks, mid curse, mid anything. Every single person's eyes were either on the Green Flame Torch, Voldemort, or Harry. "Because if you do you are mistaken –"

          "Do you want to know the Prophecy?" Harry repeated again, slowly, still not looking into Voldemort's eyes.

          Voldemort smirked. "I do … it is good that you have finally realised the Dark Side's potential, you have finally seen sense that now I may kill you quickly, Voldemort the merciful –"

          "Shut up," said Harry sharply, cutting him off. Voldemort did so. Harry knew he was in control.

          It felt like the entire Hall held its breath.

          "It went something like … either must die … at the hand of the other …"

          "Yes?" Voldemort prompted eagerly.

          "For neither can live … while the other survives …"

          It was as though time froze; all that existed were expressions of fear and understanding, of terror and horror. Harry kept his eyes down … waiting for Voldemort to make his inevitable and final move …

          He did so in the blink of an eye; if Harry had not known it was coming, he would have been dead in a split second. Voldemort raised his wand – and Harry looked up, directly into his pitiless red slit eyes.

          A lighting strike demolished the ceiling, and pelted down towards the floor, ricocheting off the wall and into the Torch. As soon as this happened, from within Harry's eyes shot a direct beam of blinding green light and fixed with Voldemort's own. The Dark Lord was paralysed, his wand held at his side limply, useless. Harry squinted, fighting to keep the connection. Voldemort's face began to smoke … it was working … but it was not finished.

          "NOW, HARRY!" bellowed Dumbledore.

          Harry shut his eyes in a flash and gripped the Torch. The light that had shot from them disappeared immediately. Without so much of a second's pause, Harry hurled the Green Flame Torch at Voldemort. It spun so fast it was impossible to see, but despite time seemed to travel so slowly, in a microsecond, the Torch hit Voldemort in the heart. He no longer had eyes to widen in fear; they had been burned to severely by Harry's own. The Torch remained embedded in Voldemort's chest for a full few seconds. Green light spread first up though his body, then down his arms, finally to his torso and finishing with his head. He seemed to glow, like a lit up grotesque angel, before he exploded in an almighty bang.

          People were forced to shield themselves, throw their arms over their heads, leaping underneath the nearest upended piece of rubble or furniture. Smoke engulfed the entire Hall, and it seemed no one moved for at least a minute. Smoke eventually cleared, coughs could be heard, and when they straightened up, there was no trace that the Dark Lord Voldemort had ever entered Hogwarts School. 

AN: Oh you think it's over do you? WELL YOU ARE WRONG! READ ON AND REVIEW!

Rosie x