Songfic inspired by The Plagues (The Prince of Egypt, 1998):

At the dawn of the final confrontation, during the raging battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Tom Riddle, who became Lord Voldemort, both relive in sadness and bitterness their past together and their history, which degraded when they chose opposite side.

(Slash, Time Travel, Friendship/Suspense)

Recommended version for musical ambiance (on YouTube):

The Plagues (Prince of Egypt) - EPIC COVER (Feat. Black Gryph0n)

"The Plagues"

Music by Ralph Fiennes & Amick Byram

Cover Arranged & Orchestrated by Samuel Kim

AN. This is the translation of my original french version titled "Le Duel".

Disclaimers: The lyrics of the song quoted in the text in italics are not mine, of course (Composer Lyricist: Stephen Schwartz), as are the characters and universe of Harry Potter (J.K. Rowling).

Some words have been changed (in bold) to fit the story.

Warnings : This story refers to a romance between two men.

Enjoy!

- LL.


The Battle

by LittleLote

oOo

Harry stepped through the heavy oak doors and walked slowly through the courtyard of Hogwarts, plunged into darkness. That fateful night, no light shone in the sky, neither moon nor star. In front of him, the castle grounds stretched as far as the eye could see, to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where he knew the enemy's army was waiting for them.

One hour. He had given them one hour to give in and surrender. One hour, for him to agree to submit and join him.

"Give me Harry Potter"

Thus saith the Lord

But Harry had long ago made his choice. It didn't matter how much it cost him, or how much it hurt him. He had decided to fight to the end for the freedom and survival of his friends and people.

— You should know now, Tom, he whispered into the wind. I will never give up…

Since you refuse to free my people

Tonight, one way or another, they were going to end a war that had started over eighteen years ago. A war that had taken a whole new turn for Harry and his alter ego, his eternal Nemesis, almost two years ago.

Harry closed his eyes.

Two years of bitterness and challenge, of power struggles, of duel of will and deceit…

Two years since the Death Eaters had multiplied their attacks, both on the Wizarding World and on Muggles, since Lord Voldemort's return was revealed.

Two years of catastrophes, kidnappings, raids and murders… Two years of fear, insecurity and mourning.

I send a pestilence and plague

Into your house, into your bed

Into your streams, into your streets…

All of this in order to provoke Harry and punish him. To deter him and his friends from their mission. Their quest for the Horcruxes, for which they sacrificed everything, almost a year ago. A dark and bloody year of living on the run, isolated, like fugitives hunted down… by this relentless hunt for undesirables.

A year in which Voldemort tirelessly used the unique connection he shared with Harry to penetrate his nightmares, when his mind was at the weakest, and torture him with his deepest fears, his most shameful desires…

Into your dreams, into your sleep

Until you break, until you yield!

Harry opened his eyes when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face Ron and Hermione who were standing by his side, hand in hand and as determined as he was. His eternal support.

Then other people joined them: the professors of Hogwarts, including Hagrid, accompanied by Graup, and the centaur Firenze, the members of the Order of the Phoenix, the entire Weasley family… but also house-elves from the kitchen and many students from the four houses of all years, holding tightly their wands between their whitened fingers, apprehension and uncertainty openly read on their young faces.

Professor McGonagall nodded proudly at Harry, before raising her wand high above her head, arm outstretched, and beginning to cast complex protective spells, to which were added those of Professors Flitwick and Slughorn… followed by the Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill and Fleur, the house-elves, some senior students… their wands lighting up the night.

Tonks stood beside her husband, and Remus Lupin gave James and Lily Potter's son one of his soft and reassuring smiles.

Harry felt his heart swell in his chest at the sight of all these people united in love and adversity, despite their differences.

He raised his gaze to the sky to see a dome of light, filled with white magic, appear and gradually encompassing the castle surroundings.

"We are waiting for you, Tom"

oOo

Not far from here, Lord Voldemort was also observing the phenomenon. The message was clear. Fools… They have signed their death sentence.

— Oh, Harry, Voldemort whispered, you always made the wrong choices…

In his turn he raised his wand, surrounded by his faithful Death Eaters, and called to him all the creatures of darkness, his natural allies, under his Dark Mark…

Werewolves, Dementors, Acromentulas, giants and Inferi joined his forces… filling the air with crazy and cruel laughter, savage growls, terrifying clicking sounds, earthquakes and the roar of uprooted trees, an icy aura and the smell of blood…

oOo

Harry remembered how all this started. How everything had changed. How everything could have changed…

He was running through the Department of Mysteries, dragging Hermione and Neville with him, the Death Eaters on their heels. They had been separated from the others and he hoped they had already been able to reach the exit. He would forever blame himself if one of his friends had to pay the price for his mistakes, when they had accompanied him willingly, thinking they were going to rescue Sirius. But because of him and his own stupidity, they had fallen into a trap. He had played Voldemort's game.

They rushed through a door and found themselves in the Time Room. They barely had time to hide under tables when two Death Eaters, Jugson and Dolohov, entered after them. Seeing that Hermione was about to be discovered, Harry emerged from his hiding place and hexed Jugson with the Full Body-Bind Curse. Dolohov then turned to him, raising his wand, but Hermione was faster and cast the Silencing Charm on him. However, Dolohov took revenge by casting an nonverbal spell on her. Hermione screamed when the dark magic hit her and fell backwards.

— Hermione!

Harry rushed over to catch her before she crashed into a cupboard full of Time-Turners. Then Neville threw himself at Dolohov, but the Death Eater punched him in the face, breaking both his nose and his wand. Harry stumbled and fell with Hermione. He heard the sound of broken glass before being swept away in a whirlwind of colours. Then he passed out on the cold and hard floor, once the silence returned.

When he woke up, Harry found himself in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts and was shocked to see an other matron than Mrs Pomfrey welcoming and caring for him and Hermione. He would always remember the relief he felt at seeing Hermione awake, as well as the slightly scared look she gave him, prompting him not to comment.

In front of her stood a strangely different Albus Dumbledore, with auburn hair which clashed with his crimson robe.

— Professor…

Harry! Hermione whispered, cutting him off.

He then noticed that Dumbledore was answering a bald and wrinkled little wizard, calling him "Headmaster". It was Armando Dippet, Dumbledore's predecessor, whom Harry recognized from his portrait he had already seen on the wall in Dumbledore's office. And beside them stood a young man, dressed in a Slytherin robe, who wore a shining prefect badge on his chest. A tall and slim boy, with dark eyes and dark hair. A very handsome boy, with a noble and pale face. It was Tom Riddle Jr. Tom Riddle as Harry remembered seeing him in a memory, kept in a diary for fifty years, during his second year at Hogwarts. They traveled back in time until 1941.

Thanks to Hermione's responsiveness, they were able to explain their situation by pretending to be orphans fleeing the ongoing war on the european continent. Harry listened to her explanations to the teachers that their names were Harry and Hermione Evans and that their parents had been killed by Grindelwald's followers. Dippet seemed to believe her story and sympathise. Harry couldn't take his eyes off Riddle, his fists almost trembling with rage as he gripped the bed sheets between his fingers. A crazy idea came to him. What if they managed to defeat the dark mage before he could harm anyone? Dumbledore, meanwhile, was staring at Harry with his blue eyes with interest.

Hermione was worried and didn't like the idea when Harry told her about it. But he managed to convince her to get the Sorting Hat to dispatch them both to Slytherin, in fifth year, with their enemy.

Oh, how he should have been more careful, and how he was kicking himself now. Hermione was right, even without knowing it… He didn't know what he was about to tackle

Of course he wasn't considering killing him. He was only imagining denouncing him, taking off his mask in front of everyone, and stopping whatever his plans were before he becomes Lord Voldemort

Of course, at first, Riddle seemed to be suspicious of them both. Harry was unable to pretend to ignore which demon was actually hiding beneath those angelic features. And he didn't make lots of friends by criticising - in a way that seemed to everyone quite unfair - the prefect of their house, a talented orphan, admired by all. Nevertheless, Harry was unsettled by the clever and subtle way which Riddle used to respond to his hatred and contempt. And then he began to doubt… Was he wrong to blame Riddle for Voldemort's future crimes?

Harry tried to pretend he was unimpressed by the magical skills the young man was showing in class. After all, he had known Hermione all of his school years, and she had never failed to cast one enchantment. And himself was not whitout magical abilities; indeed, he was incredibly agile on a broomstick, he had set up the D.A., and he was also able to resist the Imperius Curse…

Unfortunately, very quickly, he also tried to convince himself that he was not aware of the charm of the boy, nor moved by his personality and his life story… However, he could not ignore for long the fact that they were so alike, and by so many aspects. Did he regret having such a humanised version of his enemy in front of his eyes? This boy, who had never known his parents, obsessed with his origins, for whom Hogwarts was the only real home he had ever known and who above all dreaded his return on every summer vacation. An ambitious young man, so eager to prove himself, but also a dreamer, mysterious and definitely alone.

Frustrated by this realisation, Harry couldn't help but once again lose his temper against his enemy, defying and contradicting Riddle in DADA class, resulting in a violent verbal exchange, slipping into a clash against the school rules and both receiving detention when caught out by their teacher.

Of course, neither of them wanted to declare the incident closed, as they had something to prove, and the detention turned into a challenge, dragging them both into the Forbidden Forest in the dead of the night, during a thunderstorm, where they stupidly put their lives in danger, only to find themselves in the situation of having to collaborate to survive, saving each other's lives in the face of a horde of enraged trolls…

And it was at this precise moment, facing each other, Riddle wounded in his arm and Harry with a gash on his cheek, out of breath with anger and adrenaline, that one insult too many burst out, a truth came out, their eyes met, and their feelings turned into something different, something new…

"Leave me alone!"

"For heaven's sake, what do you reproach me for?"

"I hate you!"

"I haven't done anything to you though."

"I hate what you represent"

"Are you sure? I think you're lying."

And their lips met, devouring each other, seeking dominance and to silence everything else. Their hands grabbed without tenderness, tousling their hair, and when - breathless and cheeks flushed with cold and excitement - their dilated pupils met again, the unthinkable realisation struck them and they pull apart quickly.

They didn't talk about it for days and avoided each other by mutual agreement. Harry had flirted with Cho Chang in the past, but he had never experience anything like this. What was happening to him? He didn't know how to react to this new facet of Tom Riddle. Could it be that he…?

Then the charming young man approached him again, whispering the words he so wanted to hear without even knowing it, and Harry knew he had lost. He let himself be seduced by Tom Riddle. This boy who hadn't killed anyone yet. And a new, even crazier idea emerged in him: what if he could save him? What if Tom Riddle never became Lord Voldemort? If only he knew the true strength of friendship, and the power of love…

"We are the same you and I

Stay with me

I want to know everything about you

Sharing everything with you"

Harry allowed himself to be tempted by the idea that he could change the other boy, and he believed all Tom's promises, all his lies…

Until that unforgettable night, when they gave themselves to each other. That night they shared, in his bed in the Slytherin dormitory, in the privacy of the curtains drawn and the Muffliato cast. That feverish night, with crumpled sheets, trembling hands and quivering lips, when he made him moan and cry out his name. "Tom!"

No more secrets, they promised to each other. Yet Harry had never been able to be entirely sincere with Tom. Oh, how he blamed himself. And how much he had wished to believe his boyfriend when he swore to him that he hadn't opened the Chamber of Secrets…

Hermione had been so understanding and compassionate in his fall and grief in the face of the harsh truth, when he realised he had been wrong. That he couldn't change the other man…

When Harry had felt Tom different, he had pushed him to be honest with him, and he confessed reluctantly that he murdered his Muggle father whom he had finally found…

Disappointed, Harry turned sadly away from his lover, listening to Riddle unleashing his resentment on him, accusing him of abandoning him, of betraying him…

"It's wrong what you did, Tom… you killed someone… you lied to me…"

"And you, you've never lied to me, maybe? You, and your so-called sister"

"It's different, I… I can't…"

"You said you loved me… Look at me! This is who I am! Or is that all the strength of your pretended love?"

And this whole adventure, this torture was over, Harry and Hermione feeling upon them the call of the broken Time-Turner sucking them back in their time.

Thrown back into the battle of the Department of Mysteries in 1996, the two teenagers had no time to think about all that had happened to them or to heal their wounds. And as Harry cruelly suffered the violent loss of his godfather and pursued, in his vengeful trance, Bellatrix Lestrange in the hall of the Ministry, casting an Unforgivable Curse for the first time, he felt his scar burn once again.

He was standing there, in front of him, tall and slender in his black robe, so different from the boy he had known. Bald, pale and with a snake-like face, Lord Voldemort stared at him from his scarlet pupils with a mixture of horror and hatred such as he had never felt before, holding his wand in front of him, his long fingers shaking with rage. And Harry could feel in him his shock, his anger and his dismay… as the truth was finally revealed.

oOo

Of course, Harry never joined Voldemort, and so they fighted each other fiercely... Both haunted by the painful and bitter conviction that it could have been otherwise. As it had been before… But it all seemed now a distant and naive dream.

Once I called you lover

Once I thought the chance to make you laugh

Was all I ever wanted

Harry watched the light of powerful flaming curses above him, reflecting in his green eyes, which he knew Voldemort cast, and which for a moment shook the barriers of the protective spells put in place. They wouldn't last much longer… They were coming

I send the thunder from the sky

I send the fire raining down

As if he hadn't suffered enough losses, the night Harry lost Tom, his Tom, and Sirius, was also the night he learned the truth about the Prophecy spoken before he was even born. The night he learned from Dumbledore that no happy endings were allowed for them both… and that he was doomed to be the one who was destined to end the life of the man he had once loved.

And even now I wish that Fate had chose another

Serving as your foe on its behalf

Is the last thing that I wanted

Hermione had always faithfully kept his secret and never judged him for what he felt. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't quite bring himself to forget his love from the past. During his sixth year, he had indeed become closer to Ginny, whom he loved dearly, but had never seen the sparkling young girl other than a close friend or even a little sister.

Then one evening, he'd finally confessed to Ron everything that had happened during their time travel ... Did he fear that his best friend would look at him differently if he found out what he had done?

Ron, who - later, while they were in the tent - influenced by the Horcrux contained in the Slytherin's locket hanging around his neck, had reproached him for their lack of progress in their quest and accused him of deliberately slowing them down, suggesting that he did not really want to destroy Voldemort, because he still loved him, and so put them all in danger…

Hermione had also implied before that maybe he wasn't seriously fight Voldemort's mind intrusions because, deep down inside, he wished to maintain that unique connection with him… no matter how much it made him suffer… because that was all he had left from their story together.

All of a sudden, the dome of light shattered above their heads... Then sounds of explosions echoed all around the castle, amid cries of panic, and enchantments started to burst out. They were here. Harry felt the freezing cold of the Dementors' aura, presage of a hopeless world, and drew deep within him the strength to produce a corporeal Patronus, galloping around and spreading its saving light to his allies. The battle was just beginning.

I send a hail of burning ice

On every field, on every town

oOo

The screams of the residents of the castle reached Lord Voldemort's ears, as his magic overpowered their protections and his Death Eaters launched the attack.

"Harry, why do you always make your life so difficult? When I offer you the easy way…"

He saw in the distance stone walls burst open, bridges collapse and towers fall down… He had warned them. In his great magnanimity, he had given them a chance. Wasn't he merciful? He took no pleasure in damaging such a historic edifice, imbued with great and old magics. A place in which he had finally found his place. Where he had lived the most fulfilled and content moments of his life…

This was my home

All this pain and devastation

How it tortures me inside

A place where he had met him… the only one… and with whom he had shared… everything.

A destructive and incandescent glow suddenly illuminated the dark mage's gaze. No. It was all Harry's fault! If he wasn't so stupid, so stubborn… If only he had realised the obvious… The boy could only blame himself. And once the war won, Lord Voldemort was determined to ensure that the magical community never forgot the suffering they endured due to the foolishness of their sadly defeated Savior.

All the innocent who suffer

From your stubbornness and pride!

Voldemort would always remember his first encounter with the boy who had intrigued him so much, and more than anyone else. He had so suspected them both, when they had simply appeared out of thin air. Their strange story, their sudden arrival… he felt that something was wrong. He observed him and the girl at length… always huddled together, whispering to each other, in the common room or in the library… Were they really brother and sister? Why would they have lied? They seemed indeed to share an unwavering bond… Something he himself did not known, had never known… Could it be that he envied them this bond that united them?

He had a hard time figuring out this boy who seemed unable to hide his feelings - wearing his heart on his sleeve like a stupid Gryffindor - and especially his odd resentment towards the young prefect. Tom didn't care if the new boy didn't like him. And yet, he was strangely frustrated that this newcomer seemed to be reading rigth through him and knowing all his darkest secrets. Harry was not acting like everyone else around him - normally so easily blinded by his charisma. He was neither a weakling in search of protection, nor an ambitious in search of glory and greatness. But what was his goal then? Sometimes he annoyed Tom almost as much as Dumbledore. But other times… the young Slytherin perceived a lack in the other boy - despite his supposed family story - like a void to be filled, a kind of sadness, a part of darkness… just like in himself.

Tom felt strangely drawn to him. Why? The boy was certainly not devoid of magical talents, but he still couldn't hold a candle to him. Tom then realized that he was trying to impress the boy, that he wanted his admiration, his abdication… He wanted to beat him, subdue him… and prove that he had the upper hand over him.

That's why he foolishly let himself be provoked, once again offended by the other's accusations and hostility towards him. And thus found himself at the heart of an adventure he never imagined living or sharing, and especially not with a companion-in-arms. A person to whom, he had to admit, he now partly owed his own life… which he cared about more than anything.

"You are hurt."

"You too…"

And while Tom thought he had finally won his interest, the other boy unexpectedly seemed to reject him once more. Riddle didn't understand. He could see how the boy constantly looked at him. He had revealed himself to him more than with anyone else. What more did he want? His stubborn resistance made him so angry that his need for recognition suddenly turned into a desire for carnal dominance. He was astonished by his own actions, never having sought physical contact with another human being. But touching the other boy, and intertwining his tongue with his, gave him a tremendous sense of satisfaction and an unexpected pleasure, especially when the other responded passionately to his advances. Voldemort smiled inwardly. He had won.

At first shocked by this new revelation for him, Tom finally came to terms with the fact that he wanted more. No matter how "unnatural" it could appear. Lord Voldemort was above the laws of simple men. He wanted to own the young boy, and he always got what he wanted. And if it was true, as Dumbledore maintained, that love was one of the most powerful forms of magic, then he would master it, and possess it, like everything else. How strange the words rang to his ears when Harry first said it, or the taste on his own lips when he said it back. But not unpleasant. Strangely… satisfying.

He didn't want Harry to be a part of his intimate circle. No, Harry was different, and belonged only to him. They shared something unique. He wanted him by his side. He even confessed to him the search for his origins, some of his ambitions for the future…

The day he found out that the boy spoke Parseltongue too, he surmised that there might be an other branch of Slytherin descendants, more unrecognized and distant. Or that Harry had a predisposition to a certain type of magic, a darker one, one that he favored. This aroused him greatly. And partly explained why he felt so attracted to him, as well as their resemblance.

What a pleasure, the night when he fully claimed his rights and his power over the boy. The night he made him his. His name was only beautiful on his lips, and one day he intended to hear the boy moan and shout an other name that he would teach him, his new name…

Their fingers intertwined, he imagined that it would always be so, and that nothing would ever change.

"Sssehaaya seythaasss… "

What was not his grief and his fury at the young man's reaction when he extracted a confession from him about his latest actions. Tom knew Harry all too well and had sensed that it would be difficult to get him to accept any other morality than the one in which he was stuck.

There was no such thing as good or evil… Only power mattered… Why did he refuse to understand this? How dare he leave him after all they had shared? After all their promises? How could he betray him like that…

Together they could have been indestructible, conquer this country and more! If that was what love is, then Lord Voldemort would destroy it.

I send the curses on the wind

Such as the world has never seen

On every witch, on every folk

Until there's nothing left that live

It wasn't until many years later, when he appeared at the Ministry of Magic to carry out his plan himself, and laid anew eyes on the boy who had so many times challenged him, and still represent an unpleasant thorn in his side, that he finally recognized him and understood the infamy.

In his disgust, his shame and his rage, he understood then that the boy, the only one Tom Riddle had ever loved and considered his equal, the one who had unjustly betrayed and abandoned him, and had disappeared so many years before without leaving any traces, was in reality one with Harry Potter! The one who had almost defeated him a long time ago and whom he had already tried several times to eliminate in vain.

Voldemort then entered into a fury such as he had never known. A renewed hatred for the boy who had dared to penetrate his privacy with impunity. How had he dared to reproach him in the past for having lied to him, he who had so deceived him?

The wizarding world will tremble under the reign of Lord Voldemort. No one will be spared, neither Muggle nor wizard.

I send my scourge, I send my sword

Thus saith the Lord!

Of course, he wanted to punish the boy and make him suffer. But in the year when he sought to get rid of Dumbledore once and for all - that year when the boy was still inaccessible to him, protected behind the high walls of Hogwarts and by the Ministry - he couldn't help but think about it…

Harry, his Harry, was alive… young and vigorous… he had finally found him again. Did he still have a chance to rally his love to his cause, after all that had happened? Or maybe he wouldn't give him the choice…

Voldemort then tried to reach the boy, to tempt him… But Harry resisted him, again. He promised him glory by his side. He would only find degradation and suffering if he decided to oppose him. If the boy blamed him for the loss of his loved ones, then why not end it by finally submitting and joining him? He knew the boy still desired him. "Why do you have to impose all of this on yourself, Harry… imposing all of this on both of us?" Stupid and proud until the end. Rotten to the core by Dumbledore's misconceptions.

You who I called lover

Why must you call down another blow?

"So you have made your decision, Harry… If that's what it takes for you to give up… If I have to kill every wizard and witch that stands between you and me to get you out of your hole… I will stop at nothing."

I send my scourge, I send my sword

oOo

Harry had now finally learned the hard and painful truth… He was a Horcrux. The last one. It explained his unique connection to Voldemort, that connection the dark wizard had used to torture and deceive him, never suspecting what it meant to him, to them…

But now Harry was ready. He knew what he had to do. He was ready to sacrifice himself if necessary… to save the wizarding world from the yoke of this mad man, this monster Tom Riddle had become…

Let my people go!

Thus saith the Lord

oOo

Voldemort in turn threw himself into battle and penetrated the fallen walls of Hogwarts. With a careless wave of his wand, he annihilated anyone in his path, his snake Nagini by his side.

Suddenly he saw him in front of him. There he is, the Savior, the traitor, the coward.

— Have you finished hiding, Harry?

— It's over, Tom.

Voldemort hissed.

— I gave you one last chance, Sssehaaya seythaasss… You didn't listen to me…

Harry swallowed at the nickname his former lover used to give him. Difficult to translate, in the language of serpents it would mean "companion", "mate", or even "mine". But he did not let himself be taken down.

— You wanted me? Here I am!

Harry stepped forward in front of him, arms wide open, helpless. A trap? Voldemort narrowed his eyes and slowly raised his wand…

Avada Kedavra!

A blinding stream of green light, a woman's cry rang out, and Harry's body fell limply at his feet. Then Voldemort received a heavy blow to the chest which weakened him and made him feel short of breath for a moment. What was that feeling? As if something inside of him had left him forever. He took one last look at the corpse of his former lover. Was he really dead? Was it finally over?

When Harry's hand, alive and well, grabbed his ankle.

Now! the young man shouted.

But Voldemort didn't understand the deception until too late.

the Longbottom boy jumped down from the dilapidated stone stairs and slashed Nagini's head off with Godric Gryffindor's sword.

Impossible! Voldemort yelled in spite and anger as he turned to the newcomer, his eyes blazing more than ever, ready to kill. But then he was attacked by Harry himself, and a heated duel ensued between them.

Longbottom ran to take refuge with other young people. She was there too, saw Voldemort, the fake sister. He would kill them all in front of his eyes.

You who I called lover

How could you have come to hate me so?

Is this what you wanted?

Although they were caught up in their duel, the battle raged around them, and more than once Voldemort saw that Harry was distracted, his eyes widening in fear and horror at the mutilated corpses of his dear friends. Oh no, Harry, he thought, you'll only have eyes for me before you die… "

— You can't defeat me, Harry! he called out. And they will all die because of you, I will take care of that personally!

— No! Harry cried out before casting another non-lethal curse on him.

I send the swarm, I send the horde

Voldemort let out his cold, mirthless laugh.

— So you're not trying to kill me, Harry? he teased him. Could it be that you still have feelings for me?

— You're already dead without knowing it, Tom. But you will not die by my hand, but by your own doing, your own mistakes.

Voldemort hissed in rage and threw himself on him.

Their duel brought them to the center of the fighting and everyone stopped to bear witness to their historic battle.

— You should have joined me, chosen me, if you knew what was good for you! Voldemort spat.

— I'm at peace with myself, Tom, Harry replied calmly. Can you say the same? I will never regret my choice to fight you. Precisely to save all those whose life is of no value to you. It is of value to me!

Lord Voldemort's pupils glowed red at his words.

Then let my heart be hardened

And never mind how high the cost may grow

This will still be so:

I will never let your people go!

They were thus condemned to confront each other, until death do them part…

"You made your choice…"

They raised their wands… Voldemort holding Dumbledore's Elder Wand between his fingers…

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Thus saith the Lord!

oOo


AN. Had Dumbledore sensed that Harry would face the same ordeal in his fight against Voldemort, which he himself had had to face against Grindelwald?

"We fools who love…"

Pity those who live without love.