The End of the Journey
'Neither can live while the other survives,' smiled Voldemort. 'You are going for good tonight, Potter.'
'Following rules again, are we?' Said Harry with a disappointed voice. 'Aren't you tired of it. Have you ever wondered what would have happened if you had ignored the Prophecy?'
'Ignore it and let you grow the power who would defeat me?' Hissed Voldemort aggressively.
'Well, I guessed it worked pretty well then,' replied Harry sarcastically. 'You tried to stop it and I still grew with the power to defeat you.'
'Is it love again?' Retorted Voldemort while rolling his eyes. 'Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death…? So, what will stop you dying now when I strike?'
'You.' Answered Harry simply. 'Because you are not going to strike.'
'And why wouldn't I?'
'For the same reason you have followed me there, Tom. You seek answers. You have realised you may have made a mistake. Don't lie to me about it and, please Tom, don't lie to yourself for the second time of your life.' Harry's tone had shifted into a compassionate one. 'Listen to me, listen to yourself. Let me show you.'
'I don't want your pity, Potter!' Spat Voldemort. But his voice was starting to waver. How could the boy see through him so easily? He had tried to invade the boy's mind several times since he had joined him in the glade. But it was inscrutable. However, the boy seemed to be able to read him like an open book.
'I am not offering you pity,' said Harry calmly while raising his hand. 'I am offering you something you never found in your life. I am offering you love.'
Voldemort looked at the hand and at Harry again… What? He burst out of laughter while Harry remained unmoved.
'Do you hear yourself boy?' Exclaimed Voldemort.
But when his laugh faded out, the hand was still raised, and Harry was still looking at him peacefully. He realised the boy was serious. He looked at the hand again and hesitated.
In the distances they heard echoes of a fight.
'We don't have much time, Tom,' said Harry as the noise stopped.
The doubt grew in Voldemort's mind and with it, all the emotions he had tried to conceal through his life. Some were so foreign to him, he thought he was going to be sick. Tonight should have marked his victory against the Wizarding World. Hi revenge against everyone. But he realised that there was something he desired much more than that. He wanted to know.
How was it a newborn had managed to defeat him as his powers were at their peak? How had this same boy been able to discover his deepest secrets? And why was he offering him, the murderer of his parents, the dark wizard who had hunted him down his whole life, this strange thing called love?
'Say I take your hand,' said suddenly Voldemort. 'Let's imagine you manage to convince me. What then?'
'I don't know,' answered Harry with a sincere voice. 'But what do you say we figure it out then? Together.'
The word echoed off Voldemort's mind. Together. Not alone. The remaining of his defense shattered, and, in an absolute silence, with his eyes hung on Harry's one, Lord Voldemort raised his hand and took Harry Potter's one in his.
He saw… he was a young boy crawling towards a cupboard under the stairs trying to avoid the blow of his uncle under the disdain gaze of his aunt. His own blood. It reminded him the orphanage, the mean children, and the cruel instructor. He saw Hogwarts emerged glittering in the distance, as his hands were clenched on the edge of the boat and felt hope fill him with its warm sensation. It reminded him when he had found his own Home.
Harry guided Voldemort in the layers of his mind. He showed him his discussions with Slytherin. About murder and mistakes. He showed him the love of an ancestor whose only goal in his last years had been to ensure the safety of his Heir. A love that had survived through the ages to be entrusted with his nemesis. The one who had made him fall and was supposed to end him. He saw the boy rejecting the idea first and then embrace it. He saw Tom Riddle opening to the boy. Tom Riddle… This strange person from the past. He was so young yet with old eyes. But he saw him change while talking with Harry. He heard him laugh, he heard him joke and he heard him talk about this painful past he didn't want to remember. But he had to remember. He realised the mistake he had made that had sent him on this cursed path.
He watched the eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange lose their sparkle of madness as the obliviating spell was rushing towards her to be replaced with a serene and calm glimmer. The same eyes he had contemplated many years ago as another path was revealed to him. The same Harry had offered him a few seconds ago… Minutes? He couldn't tell. He was navigating Harry's memories. Some felt like a stormy sea and others like a mild calm lake.
Through Harry's mind, Tom found himself again and Voldemort faded away.
When Harry released his hand, the purples eyes had darkened. He noticed that Voldemort's face looked more human. Even if his features hadn't changed, he could guess the man that the Dark Lord should have been.
'Tom?' Asked Harry a bit unsure.
As the wizard's face lit up with a soft genuine smile Harry had never seen before, they heard hurries footsteps rushed towards them and before they could do anything, the glade was circled by the Order members. Tom raised his eyes and crossed Dumbledore's gaze.
Everything happened fast. Tom turned his eyes towards Harry whose heart clenched when he saw the pain lingering in it. The pain of someone at their last resort. He nodded with a gentle smile and closed his eyes while letting his wand fall on the ground. He had done everything he could, it was now time to rest.
'No!' Harry could have never guessed that Dumbledore could make such a scream.
The green beam rushed at him and Harry welcomed it with open arms.
