Fury
Disclaimer: Kathryn McCoy is mine. All else belongs to J.K.
Lyrics are by a beautiful local band from Portland, Maine. They are called sparkstherescue.
The song is called Psalm 39.
He Harry Potter
She Kathryn McCoy (an OC)
It Voldemort
I said I'd be careful of what I say
I will be careful how I act
I kept very quiet
The anger grew inside of me
He pulled away, gently at first, but more forcefully as she moved to touch him again. Her fingers burned against his skin, fury coursing through them into him. They seared into his arms. He locked his eyes with hers, emerald meeting ice. She nodded silently, pulling up the black bandana that hung around her neck so that it covered her nose and mouth. She extracted her wand from her back pocket and prepared.
They watched the door in silence, waiting, aching for the attack. He cracked his fingers, clamping them around his wand. His scar burned, his body ached, and his heart clenched when he saw her eyes. She looked so forlorn, lost. He knew that would change when the fighting started, but now she looked frightened. And that in itself, made his heart pound in his ears.
So I spoke: When will the end come
How long do I live
What hope do I have?
There was about a millisecond of shocked silence when the castle doors burst open, followed by the instantaneous shouting of a Killing Curse from the other side. He glanced around frantically. She was already dueling with a masked woman that he figured to be Bellatrix Black. The woman gave a cry as she was knocked backward by a particularly powerful flipendo.
He was so impressed that he almost didn't hear her as she cried his name. Harry! The shout rang in his ears as he whirled around. His eyes locked with those of the enemy. Red eyes narrowed at him, furious, seething.
"Harry Potter," It hissed, a cruel smiling creeping it's way onto it's face. "How lovely to see you again."
"I wish I could say the same," He spat ruthlessly, quite uncharacteristic of him, but necessary. A bony hand cupped his cheek delicately, grotesque fingers, dancing across the pale skin.
"Such youth," It whispered, more to itself than him. "Pity something so pretty has to die."
"Don't flatter yourself so." It laughed at this, a mirthless laugh.
"It is nice to see that you have not lost your humor Harry," It said quietly, mouth dangerously close to his ear. "But humor is not a very useful trait when death is just around the corner." He was shoved backwards harshly, but he kept his footing, drawing his wand.
"I assure you, I will not be the one to fall." Another laugh, this time impatient. He glanced over to where she was fighting, bandana still covering most of her face, save for her eyes and forehead. Her curse rang as the Death Eater before her fell.
You are my hope
Save me from my sins
"Pretty thing she is," It murmured thoughtfully. "It would be a shame to see her get hurt." He turned, eyes blazing.
"If you touch her-"
"You'll what?" It challenged in a mocking tone. "Kill me?" A smile. "Raise your wand Harry. Kill me."
"Avada Kedavra!"
Oh Hell no!
That was when everything stopped. The effect that had happened during the duel in the graveyard three years ago did not take place this time. For now, as the two enemies each shouted the Killing Curse, he drove Gryffindor's sword into his enemy's abdomen. It was then that the words tumbled off of It's lips, and the light left It's eyes. It was dead, but so was he.
Lord Voldemort had fallen, but he had taken Harry Potter with him.
Yep. So that's my little idea for a final battle of sorts.