Aftermath
Disclaimer: sings I wish that I owned everything that's JKs. But unfortunately, I am but a faithful dreamer. Dodges rotten tomatoes
A/N: Thank you for all of your reviews
Chapter Three
The sharply defined shade of green scattered across London, as he walked. The smell of freshly cut grass, and the aroma of coffee as he passed a coffee shop awakened his senses. Muggles everywhere, passed, some doubling when they saw him, others staring, and the rest ignoring him, but it didn't matter. The world was at war.
He knew something was wrong when he felt his scar twinge, and with it, came a loud, deafening explosion, and half of London was blasted to the ground, left in flames and rubble. Reacting within seconds of the sign of danger, he barely managed to put up a shield, before the wave of energy forced him to slide backwards. Thousands of terrified screams filled his ears, but he pushed them away. He couldn't let that get him.
Strengthening his shield, he began to press forward, through the bits and pieces of burning wood which had once been large buildings, shops and homes. He ignored the lead brick in his stomach, and kept walking. The deeper he went into the blast, the more wounded he saw. A young girl, no more than five or six, sat motionless against a broken street sign, in a puddle of blood, her left side missing, including her arm, leg, parts of her torso, and her ear. Instead, blood oozed freely from her half body, as she fell limp forward, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. He pushed his thoughts along with the bile rising in his throat back down.
More injure people stood on the sidelines, groaning or lying limp. One woman, about 25 years old, came up to him, her arm hanging onto her by a few strings of flesh. She crawled up to his feet, and began begging him to stop it. He looked down at her, stopping for a moment, his eyes brimming with tears, and with immense emotional force, he kept walking ignoring her. He could hear her wailing behind him.
"No! Come back! Please!" Her voice carried, but he couldn't let that effect him. He kept going.
Suddenly, a high-pitched cold laugh rang through all the destruction, and his scar began to burn more fiercely, telling him the Dark Lord had come. He was ready.
With his shield up and strong, he followed in the direction of the laugh, which seemed to echo through the disaster that was once London. But before he could reach Voldemort, Voldemort got to him.
Pop!
"Well well, Potter had decided to join in the fun after all. What has been the matter? Too afraid to die?" Voldemort spoke with a laugh.
"No. I've been feeling pity for when you and all of your Death Eaters die." He retorted.
"Me and my Death Eaters you say? What brave little words from a brave little boy. I suppose Dumbledore taught you that. Too bad he's gone. I believe he was killed by a mere teacher? A mere Potion's master? Was he not the greatest wizard of all time?" Voldemort said.
"You speak lies and yet truth. Yes, you and your death eaters. No, Dumbledore did not teach me, yes Snape killed him, and yes he was the greatest wizard of all time." Harry answered with a smirk.
"Was? My dear boy, you do not need to waste your breath. I know very well I am the most superior." Voldemort said with flattery. His Death eaters murmured in agreement.
"I'm sorry Tom, but you took that wrong. You see, you are not the greatest wizard, but you are looking at him." He responded hotly.
He felt his scar sear stronger with pain, but not even a flinch to show for it. Voldemort's eyes grew brighter with rage, and he took a step forward.
"We'll see about that." Was all he muttered.
And it started; the battle that was to be known for all of eternity. Good vs. Evil. Light vs. Dark.
Curses were thrown everywhere. Death eaters began to attack Harry along with Voldemort. It was three hundred against one, and yet Harry barely managed to avoid most curses. Throwing himself out of the way, while sending curses everywhere. Many killing curses were sent, although he avoided all of them.
Dozens of pops invaded his ears, and he knew that the order had arrived. But he didn't let his defenses down. He continued dodging and throwing spells.
Half an hour into the battle, and no one had died. It was becoming obsolete, but he knew that they were planning something. The way they all seemed to be moving in the same motion, and the looks they gave each other. He found out seconds later, that his suspicion had been right.
Suddenly, out of no where, one hundred more death eaters apparated on the spot. The entire dark side turned their attention, not on Harry, but on the order, or mainly McGonagall.
They were the first to go down. McGonagall fell to the Cruciatus curse, twitching and pulsating, as her haggard voice filled the battle field. Her cries for help pierced through Harry's heart, but he ignored. He had too, and his face turned into one of steel.
Only when McGonagall was unconscious, and bleeding through her mouth and ears, did they stop, and take down others. Next was Tonks, this time killed with many cutting spells and a Cruciatus for good measures. She was left, blood coated like a sugar candy, on the ground, her wounds gushing dangerously. Harry knew she was alive, but that she would die of blood loss.
Next came Slughorn, with a simple Avada Kedavra, and then, using something Harry had never seen, although knew was some sort of wall of raw energy, half of the order was wiped out, leaving a great mass of bleeding corpses, scattered around the battlefield. Only at this time, did everything really sink in, and he remembered McGonagall's words.
"The only way to fight darkness is to be dark. You won't like it Harry, but this Dark magic I'm about to teach you will be vital."
A quick flash of weakness passed through his eyes, before he stood tall and determined, getting up from the ground where he had been panting heavily, and he dropped his wand.
"FIGHT FIRE WITH FIRE!" He hollered out with rage, and then, closing his eyes, he placed his palms together, and began to draw energy from within himself.
"MAXIMUS EVERSIO!" He cried with all his might, and his eyes opened. They were no longer their shade of emerald, but instead they were an intense gold. He could see the shock in the Death eaters' eyes, before a giant wave of gold formed infront of him, and advanced forward, to the Death eaters; and in one, golden swipe, half of the Death eaters were utterly destroyed to nothing, leaving the ground smoking with murder. The remaining began to run.
"STOP!" Voldemort commanded. All the Death eaters paused, and turned, saluting the Dark Lord.
"Do you think that little trick really impresses me Potter? We'll see who's superior." He stated, and he too, dropped his wand, and began to pull his hand together, knuckle to knuckle.
Something in Harry told him to run forward, towards Voldemort, and without a second thought, he began to run, until he was meters away from Voldemort, and a gigantic ball of energy fell upon where he had been moments ago, killing seven more order members.
Harry didn't let any time pass, and began to start another position, just as Voldemort began to do, and in minutes, blasts of energy were being sent and absorbed.
This went on for seven hours.
Pale, shaking, sweaty and exhausted, Harry never let his concentration fall. He had gone from offence to defense, anticipating each of Voldemort's forms of raw energy. Every single person that had been present at this battle, was either dead, unconcscious, or had managed to apparate in time. He braced himself when he saw Voldemort drop his hands, satisfied to realize that he was in the same state Harry was, shaking, sweaty and exhausted.
With one hand, Harry wiped away the beads of sweat at his temple, standing with his two feet shoulder width apart, his eyes narrowing as Voldemort's skinny shoulders dropped, and he let his guard down slightly.
"So, you can fight with Raw Energy. I must say I never anticipated this much energy from you Potter. Congratulations." He slurred.
Harry's eyebrows rose. A compliment from his enemy? But he could read Voldemort. He had learned to after so many confrontations with him. He had something up his sleeve.
"Yet." Voldemort struck loudly. "You do NOT know how to fight physically. Let us see how you, Harry James Potter, match with the greatest Dark Lord of all time." He spoke menacingly.
"What irony, you spoke almost the exact same thing in my second years, and if I remember clearly I beat you with your own weapon." Harry exclaimed.
Voldemort's eyes flashed blood red. He glared at Harry, his face contorting with anger.
"LET US SEE!" He screamed. Harry flinched. As much as he could prepare himself, he did not know what was in store.
"Ses Tasi tursi shi sessash serpser's soshan surstanseth!" Parsletongue slipped through Vodemort's lips, penetrating Harry's ears, freezing his insides. He knew what Voldemort had said.
"I call on the great serpent's blood sword." Harry braced himself with the words were spoken, and suddenly the sky thundered, and turned a bright green, as green as the dark mark, and a shock like a firecracker, sparked through the sky, and a puddle of green began to swirl faster and faster until, out of the sky, like a lightening bolt, came a pale silver sword, aligned with emeralds in the shape of snakes. The handle itself was carved to look as if the snakes were alive, slithering around the holder's hand and up a part of the blade. The eyes of each snake were emerald. Except for the one climbing the sword. They were ruby blood red.
In a wave of rage, the Dark Lord lunged at Harry, Salazar Slytherin's sword in his hand, glowing bright green, creating a sphere of green around Voldemort.
"SESHESASE!" He said in Parsletongue, as the blade came into contact with Harry's side.
A horrific bloodcurdling scream erupted from Harry, as the sword pierced his skin, sending a gigantic wave of pain crashing down on him. Immediately his knees buckled, and he was on the floor, showering blood on the Earth, as his vision swam.
Voldemort's laugh rang through the mass of dead bodies, as he watched Harry struggle to regain his composure.
"You are being beaten by a mere sword? Great Harry Potter, defeated because of a simple curse cast through a magical sword? You should be ashamed to ever consider yourself worthy of fighting." Voldemort spat at Harry who was lying on the ground, clutching at his side.
No. I need to defeat him. I need to fight fire with fire. But I can't match him, I don't even have a sword. groan If I don't act quick, I'll die shamefully of blood loss. Then, suddenly something came looming into his mind. A Picture of the Chamber of Secrets, as he placed the Sorting hat on his head, and The Gryffindor Sword appeared along with Fawkes. That's It! His eyes snapped open, and he faced Voldemort.
"And you should be ashamed of ever letting your enemy have enough time to defeat you. FAWKES!" Harry pushed himself up hastily to his feet, watching Voldemort stare at him in shock.
The shriek of a bird pierced the silent battle ground, and Fawkes appeared, racing towards the two in a ball of fire. In his claws, was the Gryffindor sword, with its ruby gems glistening in the setting sun.
"And now, Tom, we fight." Harry said, as the sword was dropped right into his hand. It began to glow bright gold, engulfing him in the light. Green against Gold. It was the ultimate battle of the houses.
Harry lunged at Voldemort, his mind working ahead of time. Voldemort had said something about simple curses being fired through the sword, because it was magical. Was that possible?
"Maximentus Poena!" Harry said, anger vibrating through every fiber in him. He could feel his raw energy stirring within him, and before he managed to register what had happened, his raw energy was released through the sword, in one bright streak of gold.
A long, agonizing cry issued from Voldemort's mouth, and he stumbled back, pulling his sword in front of him, to block the gold. Harry was blown backwards almost ten feet by his own energy, and weakly got up, using the sword to keep himself upright. Not now Harry, please. You've got to stay focused. You've got to stay strong!
With another cry of rage, Voldemort was back, the pale silver sword lunging at Harry, and Harry's sword, which had turned into a golden metal, lunging at Voldemort.
A/N: R+R!