sry it's been awhile but i was out of town well here are the next two chapters
Twilight
evabandmamber13
Chapter Eighteen - Away and Back
Harry was scared.
No one could see it of course, but he was.
He, and about twenty other students and Professors stood, surrounded by Voldemort's troops. Their wands were on the floor. Harry felt his two spare wands in their holsters, but he could not reach for them, as there were about ten wands pointed right at his head.
No one attacked.
No one moved.
No one even dared breathe.
"So... Potter," Voldemort stood.
Harry glared at the snake-like man, towering above him.
"Many times you've escaped me... how this was so is beyond my comprehension... but this time, as you see, you have no way out. I'm sure of it. I underestimated you for the last time, Potter. Now, before you die, I have some questions to ask of you..."
Harry did not speak. He felt Professor Orion shake next to him. Even the hardened witch was scared.
"Where is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix?"
Harry didn't reply.
"CRUCIO! HOW DARE YOU HESITATE TO OBEY!"
The beam of light was reflected before it reached Harry.
A troll started shrieking beside Voldemort.
"Quiet, fool. Avada Kedavra," said Voldemort.
The troll fell dead immediately.
Death Eaters started shuffling uneasily.
"You will not tell me, Potter?" Voldemort burnt a hole through Harry with his piercing slits of eyes.
"No, Riddle."
"So be it. Kill a student for every minute he hesitates, until he sees fit to succumb to... reason."
With that, Voldemort swept out of the Great Hall.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" yelled a Death Eater.
His voice was strangely familiar.
A boy Harry knew as the sixth year Hufflepuff, Francis fell dead.
He hung his head, wallowing in guilt.
Students shrieked in fear, begging Harry to tell Voldemort.
But he couldn't...
He had to be strong.
A wide-eyed first year fell, dead.
He could not break down.
Dennis Creevey looked up at him with cold, unseeing eyes, the next victim of the Death Eaters.
He was the Boy-who-Lived.
Beautiful Hannah Abbot was next. She died with a fiery look of defiance in her eyes.
The world lied on his shoulders.
A third-year girl.
He couldn't drop it.
Sarah Livingston, a sixth year Ravenclaw.
The Order of the Phoenix was too important.
Jake Gardener, one of the boys Harry had caught snogging in the Astronomy Tower, lifetimes ago when such matters were not seen as trivial.
Could he fight them by himself?
A tiny second year Hufflepuff.
He couldn't fight this many by himself.
A fifth year prefect.
He snapped.
Just when Harry was about to whip out his wands and cast spells around in a last desperate attempt to defeat the Death Eaters, the doors of the Great Hall flew open once more.
Harry raised his eyes to the door.
A gasp escaped his throat.
Salvation was here.
It seemed as though the whole wizarding population of Great Britain had been piled into the Great Hall, although they were really only hundreds strong.
Led by what was left of the Ministry Aurors, called together by Arthur Weasley, and the Order of the Phoenix, wizards and witches of all ages came to Hogwarts' rescue.
It was an urgent message from Ginny and Ron Weasley that had alerted their father to the fall of Hogwarts, and that the Boy-who-Lived was still inside.
They called together everyone they could on short noticed, and stormed Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
It was utter chaos.
For two hours, the battle had spread out of the Great Hall, which was littered with corpses, to the extent of the entire Hogwarts grounds.
At the top of the Divination Tower, Harry Potter and Tom Riddle dueled.
"PARASITRAN MAGICA!" roared Harry, brandishing Dumbledore's wand, his spare wand in his other hand. His primary wand still lay hidden in the holster inside his robe.
Voldemort waved his wand wordlessly, and the spell was deflected.
"Can't you see, Potter? You cannot win... you cannot hurt me. I am Lord Voldemort!" he cackled insanely.
Harry hurled a stunning spell at him, in the middle of his laughter.
It hit Voldemort straight in the chest.
But after stumbling just a second, he regained posture.
"Crucio!" shouted Voldemort.
Thanks to Fortuna, the light bounced away, and shattered the window of Trelawney's classroom.
"MAXIMUS REDUCTO!" yelled Harry.
Voldemort, with a wave of his wand, deflected the spell back towards Harry.
As he jumped out of the way just in time, and watched a massive hole get blasted through the tower, he began to get desperate.
How could he defeat an enemy that could not be hurt?
His time was running low.
He ducked a jet of green light.
His options were incredibly limited.
Voldemort now slowly moved to corner Harry.
Harry shot spells from jelly-legs to reductor spells, all to no avail.
He was slowly beginning to be pressed to the wall.
Voldemort shouted something that Harry could not make out, and he found his wands flying away from him.
He was now helpless.
Feeling around in his robes, he felt the last wand.
"If only your little muggle loving girlfriend could see you now... see you, the great, mighty Harry Potter, all at my mercy... I have waited sixteen years for this to happen... yet every time I got you in my grasp, you somehow slithered away from me... how very... Slytherin. I believe you would've done well had you not had your pathetic morals. But alas, wands lost, friends dead, utterly abandoned and alone in the world, it is your time to die..."
Voldemort waved his wand, and Harry flew backwards, crushed against the wall.
His wand lay vibrating lightly in its holster.
Harry, although wincing with pain, stood up again.
"But fear not, Potter. Soon I will send her along with you... with you out of the way, the ministry under my control, nothing will stand in my way... I shall be the master of the WORLD!"
Voldemort waved his wand again, and yet again, Harry was thrown into the wall.
With much more effort this time, he managed to stand up again, blood flowing freely from his bashed up body.
He dared not move to his wand yet.
"But why, Potter? Why had you chosen this unrewarding, foolish path of the good wizards? Know you not by now that there is only power, and those too foolish to seek it? Why had you not taken my hand when I offered you the choice to greatness, nearly seven years ago? I do not understand, why is one so intelligent at the same time so foolish? How did this come to pass?"
Again, Lord Voldemort waved his wand.
Harry felt a bone crack in his shoulder. His robes were now started to dampen with blood.
Again he stood, glaring into Voldemort's eyes.
"Because there are things in the world worth fighting for."
"FOOL! What is there in the world worth fighting for... friendship? Peace? Happiness? Honor? Love?" Voldemort spat.
"In one's life, one will have to make a choice. One can do what is easy, or what is right. I choose to do what is right."
"Then you shall die."
As Voldemort lifted his wand, Harry knew it was now or never.
Whipping out his final wand, he roared, "ECLATEZ TOTALUS!"
As he saw the white light shoot out of his wand, up into the ceiling, he jumped out through the hole in the tower, clutching on to Fortuna for dear life.
Divination Tower exploded into a thousand pieces.
Percy Weasley was locked inside a small, but reasonably well furnished room, in the darkness of Riddle Mansion. He heard footsteps outside his room every hour or so, but other then that, he had nothing but food, a book about previous ministers of the magical society, a bed, and memories to entertain him.
It was almost a month now, since he had stormed out of the Burrow in anger, telling his parents to never expect to see him again.
He never thought it would really come to pass.
He had just been preparing to apparate, when he had been hit by a spell, and next thing he knew he was placed in front of Lord Voldemort's throne.
He had been interrogated - thank god he didn't know most of the Order's secrets. He had somehow managed to prevent himself from telling Lord Voldemort about the location of the Headquarters.
But two days ago, the worst had happened.
Word came from the Death Eaters talking outside his room that what was left of the light wizards had been driven out of Britain, Harry Potter the last of them to leave.
It made Percy feel very lonesome. Had all of his family made it out alive? Despite his arguments with his mother and father, he did love his family very much, especially his baby sister Ginny. She was a princess in his eyes, from the very first day he saw his mother cradle her in her arms. He wondered how Ginny was doing now, or even if she was alive.
A tear slid down his cheek as he thought about his family.
Things hadn't gone well, and if one of them had been hurt, or killed even, he didn't know how he would manage to forgive himself.
His door burst open all of a sudden, and none other than Lord Voldemort stood in front of him.
"Weasley. Stand up."
Percy stood, although he did it very grudgingly. After all, there was no use in getting himself killed.
"I have a job for you... then you may have your freedom."
"HARRY!" shrieked a sobbing Ginny Weasley, running towards the arms of the seventeen-year-old boy that was her boyfriend, and so much more.
The blood drenched Harry Potter stumbled through the five-star muggle hotel in Phuket, drawing many stares and awed gasps.
"Ginny..." he whispered.
"Oh god... you're hurt... come on... up to the room..."
Slowly, Ginny walked with Harry up to room 2300, the presidential suite, and led him in.
"Oh my god! RON! HARRY'S HERE!" yelled Hermione.
Ron and Hermione sprinted up to Harry, who held up an arm weakly to stop them.
"Please, let me go take a bath and fix myself up... I need some time."
Harry sunk into the bathtub, bubbles around him, closing his eyes.
Cuts, bruises, and scrapes burnt as he sunk into the luxurious pool-like bathtub full of hot water.
It all replayed in his mind.
He had been amazed, how Voldemort managed to survive when the very ground on which he stood had been blasted into dust, Harry could not fathom.
When he and Fortuna had managed to apparate back to the Great Hall, Harry expected an easy getaway.
He didn't count on seeing Voldemort kill a first year right in front of his face.
"We have you all now. Put down all your wands and turn facing the wall."
Harry had turned, bent down, then flipped right up and stuck his wand at Voldemort's throat, kicking his wand out of his hand.
In that second, the rescue party and the teachers had stuck their wands towards the closest Death Eaters, and received four wands at their own heads.
"We have YOU now. DROP ALL YOUR WANDS, LET US GO, AND YOUR LEADER LIVES ANOTHER DAY!"
"You cannot kill me," Voldemort had hissed.
"Maybe not, but an explosion inside your lungs will sure hurt you for a very very long time..."
"You wouldn't dare! You would kill everyone in this hall!"
"I wouldn't dare? Try me. You have three seconds."
"Three."
"Two."
"ALL RIGHT! Allow Potter and his little friends to leave..."
"Inteltransverto," Harry had said, pointing at Arthur Weasley and the Professors.
Rendezvous point at Dumbledore's safe house in the Rocky Mountains. Be there as soon as you can. I have important news.
"ACCIO WANDS!" Harry had shouted.
As the wands flew towards him, he yelled, "Multiplicus Diffindo!"
All the wands snapped into splinters.
They were free to go.
Turning his wand back on Voldemort, he motioned for everyone to leave.
As he saw the last man leave, he apparated away.
He had left with a strange feeling in his stomach. It had, despite many deaths occurring, seemed too easy.
He knew Voldemort could manage wandless magic, but why he had not used any, Harry would never find out.
Steam now filled the bathroom.
The door opened.
Harry immediately covered himself with bubbles.
"Hi Harry."
He gasped. Ginny was standing at the door, a mischievous glint in her eyes, a smile tugging on the corners of her lips.
"Gin... what are you doing here... I'm taking a... I'm not wearing clothes!"
Ginny giggled. "I know."
"But..."
She walked closer.
Step by step.
He could count the freckles on her face now, despite the heavy steam and the fact that he had no glasses on.
Still closer she came.
By now he could see his own eyes reflected in Ginny's.
She bent slowly down towards him, teasing him.
"You know, you really scared me there..." she said, stroking a finger across his cheek playfully.
"Ginny... Ron is... don't you think..."
And she shut him up with a kiss.
All the guilt, all the sadness, all the evils of the world were washed away, as he pulled Ginny to him. His mind went blissfully, and totally blank. He forgot about Ginny's older brother and best friend sitting outside in the hotel suite. He forgot about the people that died because of him. And most importantly, he forgot about Lord Voldemort. All that mattered was Ginny. She was the only one in the world.
She wasn't going to be happy about getting all wet, he thought dimly, as he pulled Ginny into the large bathtub with him, a part of him thought dimly from the back of his mind.
He felt her smooth skin on his, her soaked t-shirt weighing down on him. His mind was filled with sensations as he kissed her deeply, pulling her to him tightly.
On second thought, maybe she wouldn't even notice she was wet at all.
It was a cold, rainy day, when Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron arrived at the Safehouse, with a couple more students in tow, including Luna, Neville, and Blaise Zabini.
No one spoke.
Harry raised his wand. "Allow me entrance. I am Harry Potter."
The next thing he knew, he stood in a red and gold room, none of his friends beside him.
Hedwig swooped down and landed on Harry's bag, only to hear a meow of protest come from Fortuna, who had been sleeping calmly in Harry's bag.
Hedwig flew off again, looking quite insulted.
"Hello? Anyone here?"
"HARRY, OH WE WERE SO WORRIED! WHERE IS GINNY AND RON? And Hermione?" shouted Mrs. Weasley, who Harry had just seen come through the door holding her wand to see who it was.
"MUM!" a girlish voice squealed happily behind them.
The sixteen-year-old girl leaped into her mother's arms like a little child, hugging her, a smile of innocence on her girlish features.
Harry had never seen Ginny look so innocent, and child like before, and he found that he rather found it nice.
But by now, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Neville, and a couple of fifth years had come into the room, and Mrs. Weasley had rounded on her youngest son and his girlfriend.
Members of the Order, including Tonks, Kingsley, Mr. Weasley, Mundungus Fletcher, and Snape walked in, their faces grave. Snape was on a wheelchair, his face pale, his eyes still full of pain, bandages covering almost every inch of his body. Harry started feeling sympathy for the Potions master.
"It better be good, whatever you have to tell us, Potter, because now the whole of Britain is under Voldemort's control with barely any opposition!" shouted Snape. There went the sympathy.
"He cannot be killed."
"What nonsense is this?" snapped Snape.
"Tom Riddle is immortal."
"Nonsense!" repeated Snape.
"Not so. I sent a killing curse at him before. It hit him and he got back up. I thought it must've been some fluke on my part... but the last battle, he proved it. Divination Tower... the destruction... it was my doing. And Voldemort wasn't even scratched."
Murmurs went through the crowd of people that had gathered around at this.
"We must find another way. We cannot kill him so we must detain him. We cannot defeat him so we must compromise him. We cannot bargain so we must force him to defeat. But how?"
"Severus!" cried McGonagall.
"What?"
"Get Dumbledore's pensieve. I think now is the moment in which it can be opened."
As Snape ran out of the room and up the stairs, McGonagall led the crowd into the living room, which Harry had gotten to know well in his time here in the alternate timeline - apparently not much changed during the four years, besides that now it was filled with members of the Order and the Auror divisions.
McGonagall led the other students aside, apart from Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, handing them each a bar of chocolate, patting them on the back, and waving her wand.
In a whirl, all of the students were gone.
Portkeys.
Harry had never really liked portkeys, but recently they seemed to be so very important in his life.
Saving Hagrid.
Saving all the other students.
Killing Cedric.
Don't think about that.
"Mr. Weasley, Miss Weasley, Mr. Potter, and Miss Granger. You have a choice now. Your parents have granted you with this choice to make on your own. You may return to London, and join the resistance, stay here and try to find a way to stop You-know-Who, or you may leave for Boston, Massachusetts, in the Academy of Magical Arts in America. Please take your time and think this through clearly."
McGonagall swept out of the room, leaving Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione feeling under pressure and quite alone.
"I'm going back," spoke Harry first.
"And what? You said yourself that you couldn't kill Voldemort. What are you going to do?" countered Ginny.
"Anything. More people can't die because of..."
"If you finish that sentence with the word 'me' I will slap you."
"Okay, okay... More people can't die because of Harry Potter..."
Harry felt a hand smack across his face.
"BUT I DIDN'T..." he spluttered indignantly.
"I never said anything about not slapping you if you ended it with the words Harry Potter," smiled Ginny sweetly.
"My place is with the war, you all. I belong in the fray. I will return to London."
"We follow Harry."
"Are you all sure?"
"Yes, Professor."
"No, Harry. We are on an equal basis now. Call me Minerva."
Harry raised an eyebrow at this. He wouldn't have expected to hear words like that come from Minerva McGonagall's mouth anytime soon.
"If this truly is your choice, I fear this may be one of the last times we meet again. It has been an honor to teach you and watch you grow Harry. I hope that we shall meet again, whether it be in the war or after it. If I have any news, I assure you that it will be brought."
Such stiff formalities Harry didn't know how to handle.
He settled for saying, "Thank you, Minerva. The honor was all mine."
Simple perhaps, but to the point.
"Go to Grimmauld Place. I believe it is one of the last few places where our forces gather. These portkeys will take you there."
Harry took the portkey. He nodded at Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, and he, with a tug on his navel, disappeared to Grimmauld Place.
Hermione hugged McGonagall tightly. By far, McGonagall had always been Hermione's favorite teacher - save perhaps for Dumbledore.
Hermione then took a portkey, and followed Harry.
"Mr. Weasley," said McGonagall quite briskly.
"Professor McGonagall."
A nod was shared between them, and understanding finally passed through the student and teacher that were so unalike.
Then came Ginny.
"Ginny Weasley. May you watch over that boy... he truly is our last hope."
"I will, Professor."
Ginny Weasley, then taking a portkey left the safehouse, and traveled at light-speed to Grimmauld Place.
As she found herself landing on her back, she was pulled up by a familiar face with green eyes.
Eyes full of such energy, such power.
Eyes capable of loving so much, yet hating so much.
Eyes that she fell in love with, from the first time she saw them.
She knew then, she would do anything for him.
Her own voice echoed in her mind.
I will.
Percy sighed.
"Ginny."
A few minutes, a short redheaded girl bounced through the door, with a delighted squeal of, "Percy! You're okay!"
His sister.
Ginny.
She jumped onto his bed, crossed her legs, and hugged her brother with a childish glee.
"What happened to you, Percy?"
Percy was guilt stricken about what he was about to do.
The delighted grin on his baby sister's face disappeared slightly as she looked at him again.
"Percy?"
"It's okay, Ginny... it's okay..."
He patted her awkwardly on the arm.
"I missed you, Percy," said Ginny softly, the angelic smile back on her face.
"I missed you too, sis..."
Memories flew unbidden to his head.
It was a warm day. He was eating ice cream at Diagon Alley, holding a banana split in one hand, his sister's hand in his other. It was not often he could be treated to ice cream, and since his mum offered him a few sickles to treat himself, he decided to bring Ginny also.
"Percy, can I have some please?"
He spooned half his banana split onto her tiny plate.
"Thank you, Percy!" little Ginny had exclaimed.
"Anything for our little princess," he had replied.
He truly loved his little sister.
He studied his sister. No longer was she the five-year old that had followed him around Diagon Alley.
Sitting in front of him was a sixteen-year-old girl, all grown up.
She still had her Weasley hair of course, but hers was different from the males of the other Weasley children.
Instead of bright flaring orange, hers was like a rainbow of red, from colors as dark as burgundy to strands of orange-blonde, all depending on the angle the light hit her hair.
She still had her freckles, which she had despised when she was young.
She still had her deep brown eyes, full of emotion and innocence.
She still had her beautiful smile, which lit your soul, making you feel better just be looking at her.
She still was his sister.
And he still truly loved her.
And as tears flowed down his cheeks, he told her so.
'I leave tonight,' thought Percy.
No one, especially not his sister would be killed because of him.
Some things survival was worth trading for.
Love was one of them.
Harry, who could not sleep again, sat by the dying embers of the fire in Grimmauld Place.
It was lucky that this insomnia struck him then, for he saw Percy Weasley sneaking out the door just that minute, with a satchel slung over his shoulder.
Following, he decided to see just where Percy was going.
"Hey Percy," he said from the shadows.
Percy jumped.
"Wh - who - who's there?"
"Relax, its just Harry. What are you doing?"
"I have to go."
This slightly alarmed Harry.
"Where?"
"Look... do you promise not to tell anyone?"
Harry was starting to get a bit suspicious.
"Depends on where it is."
"Riddle Mansion."
Fast as a bullet, Harry drew his wand out and pointed it at Percy.
"Why?"
"Put your wand away, Harry. I'm not a Death Eater."
Harry slowly lowered his wand, but kept a firm hold on it.
"It all started one day, when I left the Burrow in a rage..."
Harry crept behind a rock, waiting for Voldemort to arrive to Percy.
It was a plan they had carefully engineered over the last few days. As Voldemort apparated in, Percy would talk to him, distracting him momentarily.
He, Harry would have to infiltrate Riddle Mansion to look for clues on Voldemort's weaknesses.
It was a desperate plan, with so many Death Eaters guarding the mansion, but between his invisibility cloak and his own prowess in dueling, he thought he'd be okay.
Who knows? He might even be able to get some useful information.
He was cut out of his thoughts as a loud crack was heard.
He immediately apparated out.
He had precious few minutes.
"Revealem," he said.
The spot where the mansion was supposed to be flickered in front of Harry's eyes.
Strangely, he didn't see anyone guarding it.
Voldemort's front door would have to pay the price - yet again.
"Reducto," he whispered.
The door blew off its hinges.
The invisibility cloak over him, Harry walked around the house.
Where should he start?
He walked to the throne room.
Stupid move, he thought to himself.
Voldemort surely wouldn't put anything of value in front of all of his followers.
He found a Death Eater secretly munching on what looked like a half-finished pumpkin pasty.
Pig, Harry thought.
Slipping past the Death Eater into the next hallway, Harry knew that he definitely wouldn't find anything worth examining on the ground floor.
No what Harry needed to find were the towers and the dungeons, where Voldemort probably spent his nights, if he slept at all.
Was that man still human enough to sleep?
If so, how did he close his eyes?
The man had no eyelids!
Harry didn't know, and he didn't really care.
None of this mattered as long as he found something useful to bring back to the Order.
After what seemed like hours, Harry found it.
Voldemort's own chambers.
But he stopped.
Wasn't it a bit too easy?
He had just broken through all of Voldemort's defences without so much as batting an eyelash.
It just didn't seem right that what should've been the most secure place in the world, save perhaps Grimmauld Place, would be so easy to infiltrate.
Luck was truly with Harry then.
He had decided to come on a day in which Voldemort's forces had practically emptied out to fight the muggle army. Also, unknowingly, Harry's mere magical resonance deactivated many of the security charms.
And above all, Harry was lucky that he had gotten in the room unnoticed by the dozen Death Eaters standing right next to him.
It was an exquisitely decorated room, fit for a god.
There was a massive yew throne-like chair by a majestic mahogany desk with ancient engravings on it.
The bed was a green silky texture, and was very neatly made, with three pillows, and a blanket that looked somewhat like dragon-scales.
By the glass bedside table, he saw a book entitled Kama Sutra for the Elderly.
Pig.
But next to it was Harry's goal, a leather studded journal.
It read T.M.R. on the cover, underlined by the words The Great Lord Voldemort.
Harry reached for the journal, only barely remembering Ron's words during his second year.
Magical books could be dangerous.
But he opened the journal nonetheless. Flipping to a random page in the middle of the book, Harry read.
The Veil has been recovered from the Ministry fools. Guards were of a foolishly poor standard, my loyal servants took care of them easily...
Lucius has not recovered from Potter's memory spell. The boy is truly powerful if I, the Great Lord Voldemort cannot reverse it.
It is of no consequence. With my loyal servants positioned at Hogwarts, the boy shall soon be mine... with his death, no one shall be able to stop me...
A diary was Tom Riddle's memory's downfall in Harry's second year. It might just prove to be his downfall again.
Old habits die hard, Harry thought.
He didn't know that he was holding in his hand the key to Voldemort's downfall, as he silently slipped the diary into his pocket and leaving.
Unfortunately for Harry, as he closed the door behind him after leaving a few rather unpleasant surprises for Voldemort, courtesy of the Weasley twins, he heard a voice behind him.
Luck was a double-sided sword. It worked both ways, when you want it and when you desperately don't want it.
"Potter?"
It was Draco Malfoy.
And he didn't look like he was here for fun and cookies.
Harry knew what had to be done.
He whipped off his invisibility cloak, whipped out his wand and shouted, "Evanesco!"
The invisibility cloak disappeared.
"It's been a while, Malfoy."
"Not long enough for my taste."
"Well, I'd love to stay and chat but I really must be going..."
"Not quite yet. We have some business to settle. I believe you are responsible for these?" said Draco, waving his hand carelessly at his magical eyes.
Harry grasped his wand tight.
Adrenaline was flowing through his veins.
"Funny thing it is Potter, you causing me to lose a precious thing, that is my natural eyes, has caused you to lose something valuable to you also. If it wasn't for the Dark Lord wanting to kill you himself, you would be dead just like this."
He snapped his fingers.
"What are you talking about, Malfoy. You can't kill me, you can't even stop me from leaving now!"
"Oh really?"
The magical eyes danced around crazily in their sockets.
Harry felt a wave of foreboding as he heard Draco's tones.
"Yes, really," said Harry.
"Try leaving when your mudblood slut is here with me," sneered Draco.
As he flicked his wand, three house-elves popped up to them, carrying what looked like a big yellow crystal.
"What?" Harry questioned.
With another flick of his wand, the crystal turned transparent.
He gasped in shock.
It was Hermione.
She looked like she was in some kind of enchanted sleep, with just her ripped remains of undergarments covering her body, not nearly enough.
Her face was illuminated palely in the crystal.
"Little bitch came in right after you... looking for you I assume. Did you forget something? Maybe this?"
To Harry's shock, he found that Malfoy was carrying his watch.
Without his watch, and without Fortuna, it meant that he had no protection.
Beside for his own wand.
He wondered why Malfoy wasn't calling for any Death Eaters.
He must want a big showdown.
One-on-one.
A fight for dominance.
A fight not just for survival, but for Hermione.
Malfoy must of thought the same thing.
With a wave of his wand, the doors flew shut.
They raised their wands.
Harry shot one last glimpse at Hermione's motionless body. Was she even alive?
He sure hoped so.
Malfoy inclined his head a bit.
A duel.
Just like five years ago.
This time they'd see who won that unfinished battle.
Harry nodded his head back.
He glared straight at Malfoy.
"Three," offered Harry.
Years of hatred flamed up in both of them.
"Two," replied Malfoy.
Years of competition were blown up within their souls.
"One," said both of them in unison.
Time to vent it all out.