A/N: Hello and welcome to my millionth fanfiction story of the seventh Harry Potter story. Actually, I think it's my second seventh year fic, but my millionth story in all. Please, I love constructive criticism in the reviews, so pretty please review. I'd really appreciate it. I hope this one is better and far more accurate than my "Harry Potter and the Tapestry of Black", although I'd have to say I'd like that title for this story. Anyway, please enjoy and review!
Harry Potter and the Final Battle of Evil
Chapter One: Stitches and Guilt
It was dark, almost pitch-black save for the light ignited at the end of two wand-tips by the spell "Lumos". Nor were there any sounds except for the running of four feet against the dirt ground, heavy breathing from both men and the pounding of their hearts against their ear drums. Both men were sweating as if they were sitting in a muggle sauna, but in contact with the fridged air, the sweat almost instantly cooled and dried, leaving their foreheads, noses, ears and hands numb. But never did they stop. Never did they stop running despite their thirst, need for head and the stitches in their lungs and sides.
The taller man, not much taller though, with black hair that burshed the top of his shoulders, glanced over at the younger man beside him. His pale face was set with determination, but a hint of confusion and pure fear lined his eyes, his blonde hair flying out of his eyes, a few strands occasionally straying into his vision. He only brushed it aside without any thought.
The older man contemplated him for another moment, then turned his vision back to the path passing quickly beneath his feet. He felt the guilt of the secret he was keeping from the boy much more sharply than the growing stitch in his lungs. At the moment it was only the gilt of keeping it from the boy beside him who was under the false impression that the older one could be trusted. But later, when they had time to rest and think, he knew it would not only become guilt of the fact that he had kept it a secret from the boy beside him, but also from many who were also under the same false impression that the blonde-haired boy was, though the situation was much more intricate than it appeared on the surface.
The older man stumbled, not having payed attention to where he was going and the other hesitated, slowing his running foot-steps.
He looked up at the blonde-haired boy who was clearly contemplating whether or not to stop and help his mentor.
"Go," said the older man.
"But…" he began to argue.
"I said go! Don't forget what you have promised me!"
He watched as the boy continued on as he was told with only one more glance behind.
He took a moment only long enough to pick himself and his fallen wand back up, then continued on through a pair of thick trees and around a corner to catch up with his pupil.
