Chapter Fifteen

Voldemort turned slowly, seeing his enemy beginning to stand again.

He chuckled humorlessly. "Harry. You can't possibly defeat me. Look how quickly your so called mentor fell when he faced me. Over the years, I've only grown stronger. And you…" he took on a subtly mocking tone, "well, you have your precious love to keep you safe, don't you?"

Harry was standing now with new resolve. His glare was fixed upon his opponent, his breathing even and barely controlled. He still had not yet stepped away from Ginny's body.

"Well, all your loved ones are dead now, aren't they?" Voldemort continued, now brandishing his wand. "Your pitiful parents, your dimwitted godfather, your blood traitor of a girlfriend, your precious mentor and lifelong protector…and soon everyone else. Face it, Harry. You're as good as dead."

"I'm through with this, Voldemort!" Harry suddenly yelled, slightly shocking everyone with the outburst. "All my life, you've made everything nearly impossible for me to live with! You in your selfish, close- minded haste lost me everything, and the sad thing is you're too thick to know that you lost yourself everything as well!"

Voldemort narrowed his eyes dangerously, his red slits burning with a kind of hatred and emptiness that I had never known before. I shivered, unable to shake the feeling that this was not going to end well for us.

Harry was not intimidated. I suspected that his heart was too broken to feel anything other than sadness and anger.

"You were in such a hurry to mutilate your soul, dividing it into seven pieces, you've never paused to understand the incomparable power of a soul that's untarnished and whole."

I thought back and realized that what he said was almost word for word what Dumbledore had told him.

They were now slowly moving in a circle, each of their wands pointed at the other, eyes unblinking, positioned offensively.

"Is that so, Harry? I may have lost a few meaningless parts of my soul, but despite being killed numerous times, I am still here. I am still alive. Can you say the same for poor, sweet, innocent Ginerva?"

The mention of Ginny only shook him slightly.

"Some things are worse than death."

"Then I suppose you won't mind my murdering you."

After the smallest hitch of breath, Harry ignored this and continued quietly, "You've killed, or tried to kill, everyone close to me, everyone I care about, everyone who ever bothered to care about me.

"Draw your wand, Tom. Prepare to die."

"I'd like to see you try, Harry-"

"Avada Kedavra!" They both shouted at the same time. Two jets of green light met between them and bounced off each other, canceling the other out. The impact made both of them fly back.

A collective gasp from the crowd went ignored by the two duelers. They both immediately picked themselves off and yelled again, "Avada Kedavra!"

The same result occurred. I tried to move forward once more, but the barrier prevented it. It was useless either way- I couldn't protect Harry anymore. Only he could help himself now.

After several more minutes of furious flying of curses and numerous different tactics, there were minimal results. Both Harry and Voldemort were becoming tired, just as Voldemort and Dumbledore had.

I was becoming panicked. Harry, I could tell, everyone could tell, was losing it. He was getting dizzy from the atmosphere, tired from the fighting, and broken from his heartbreak. His newfound resolve was quickly fading, as though he knew he was going to die.

Voldemort shouted a curse that finally hit him, and he was on the floor, determinedly clutching his wand, trying to hold on, but emitting the feeling of painful hopelessness.

Voldemort approached him, ready to utter his final, fatal curse. All seemed lost, when…

"Harry."

Everything stopped.

"Harry," a weak whisper came from behind him.

"Ginny?" he croaked, disbelieving. "But…how…"

No longer was Ginny limp and lifeless; she now seemed to be in a deeply troubled and disturbed sleep. Her eyes were squinted and her head rolled around, mumbling Harry's name.

"Avada Kedavra!" threw Voldemort, hitting Harry squarely in the forehead.

"NO!" I cried. The cheers of the Death Eaters around us mingled with the wailings of the Light side.

But something wasn't right. Harry wasn't dead. He was moving still.

Harry wasn't dead! There was still hope after all!

But it wasn't a pretty sight. We all watched helplessly as Harry squirmed and thrashed in pain; it was as if he was hit with an extreme Cruciatus Curse instead of the Killing Curse. But this was worse than the Cruciatus Curse- he was yelling, crying, healing wounds leaked new blood, and he shook uncontrollably- and an eerie misty blackness seemed to be engulfing him as he shrank away from it. He looked like he was being possessed. This was the worst pain anyone could have ever felt- we could all tell.

Flustered and confused, Voldemort yelled again, "Avada Kedavra!"

The curse only seemed to increase, as the blackness increased and Harry shook with another rush of pain. Blood began leaking from his mouth as well, but he still wouldn't die.

Oh, God. He was right there in front of me, not fifteen away, and I couldn't do a thing.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort yelled once more.

Scars began to form on Harry's body spontaneously, but by now he was quieter, no longer screaming, but tears still squeezed out of his shut eyes.

He still would not die.

Voldemort looked at Harry as if he was the most fearful object in the world as he realized that try as he might, he couldn't kill the boy. Only this time, luck had nothing to do with it.

By now, all of the Light Side were in a frenzy trying to get past the barrier to somehow aid their hero, to help him through his torment, but to no avail. Most were crying or yelling at the sight of him. He couldn't stand this for much longer, and if it continued, Harry might as well have died from the horrible pain being committed on his body.

However, he wasn't dying. He had a small sliver of hope now, a slim possibility that there was indeed something to live for, to pull through for.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A whole different voice rang out. Ginny, miraculously standing and breathing, pointed her wand at Voldemort, and shouted the curse.

Voldemort barely had enough time to yell "NO!" before his body burst with light and began to perish into dust particles that blew away with a mysterious gush of wind.

Through the dust, an invisible force assumed to be Voldemort's last piece of soul, screeched and sliced the air, rushing through Harry's body, taking the blackness away from him, thus ending his torture with one last swipe of pain. His body went limp. I couldn't tell his condition. But hopefully, he wasn't…

Ginny weakly rushed forward and fell into a kneeling position next to Harry's body. She gingerly lifted him up and brushed his hair back. She leaned down to kiss him gently all over his face, sobbing, "Harry, it's over. It's over, Harry, wake up now, please. Please, wake up!"

"I- I'm sorry, Harry, I'm so, so sorry…I love you so much…so much…" she kept whispering to him tremulously. "Oh, gods, Harry, I'm so stupid…We should've…we should've…"

I could hardly stand watching them; tears were rapidly slipping down my face as well.

By now, the barrier had come off, but no one paid anymore attention to the scene before me. The rest of the Aurors and the Order and the Light Side went after the rest of the Death Eaters who were now all fleeing the sight. Only a small few remained to watch Ginny and Harry. I supposed that that was the practical thing to do; the responsible thing.

No one else cared enough. No one else bothered to care.

Suddenly, I sensed movement from another part of the field. It was Dumbledore's body. It was…moving?

But not in a natural way. Not at all. It was as if…it was as if his whole body was convulsing into something altogether different. The transformation was similar to when we took Polyjuice Potion, only that was impossible, because…

Bloody hell, it was altogether too possible! If not Polyjuice Potion, anyone could have easily produced a potion that could transform a person's features for even longer than an hour, whether it be-

Oh, no. Please, no.

In the place where Albus Dumbledore had been just a moment ago laid a blonde, pale, lifeless Draco Malfoy.

I rushed forward, hoping with all my heart that it wasn't him, that I wasn't seeing the man I realized I loved taking the death of another's. My mind knew it was him, of course, but my heart just refused to accept it…

"Draco…" my mouth couldn't form the words; I could only cry. I shook my head violently, as I cried into his chest.

He couldn't be gone; he just couldn't! I didn't deserve that kind of pain, and I would've taken the Cruciatus Curse any day, under any circumstances. Anything, anything at all, anything but this.

I managed to choke out, "Oh, Draco…Why, why would you do this?" I swallowed and clutched hand to my face. "You couldn't even wait for me to…to…"

I took a deep, shuddering breath. "Draco...I- I just wanted to tell you that…that I realized that over the past couple of months…"

I sniffed. I tried to say it as clearly as possible, through the wetness of my tears, "I-I love you, Draco. And I'm so sorry that I couldn't tell you earlier…"

"Better late than never," someone said raspily.

I looked up sharply to meet two half- lidded gray eyes gazing back at me.

"Hello, love."