Chapter 2- Harry

----

Source one- The Fall of Power By William David's. Page 88.

'The fight between Mr Potter and Lord Voldemort has always caused argument among most historians. Simply put, even to this day, we don't know exactly what happened. Everyone in the Great Hall (the place it happened) was killed - including Harry Potter himself. However, reports state that those in the grounds of Hogwarts saw a large explosion destroy the hall. Based on various other evidence such as reports of many unauthorised magical transportations, it is my belief that there is a unknown wizard involved in this conflict. I believe that there was some sort of spell such as bombarda used to end Voldemort's life and all those around him. It is entirely unreasonable to believe that a single seventeen year old boy could of ended the life of one of the greatest wizards since Merlin. In the next chapter I will discuss the possible candidates for this wizard. Including the 'deceased' Albus Dumbledore.'

This was one of the only sources that I could find on the War. The five others will be scattered throughout this piece. As I said before, there is no real book, no documentation, on the war and what happened. All there is are half completed records that most of the time prove useless. The book that I was given when I started this research was adequate at best.

This source talks about the event that actually killed Voldemort. The famous explosion in which he was killed. As you can see, William doubts whether it was actually Harry and suspects other wizards were involved. Mainly Dumbledore. I disagree. Why would Dumbledore willingly kill Harry and all those other students and adults that were present in the hall? Everything I have ever read tells me that Dumbledore cared about his students and loved them as his own children. I don't believe he would sacrifice his students. No matter how desperate he was. It is for definite. Harry killed Voldemort.

I have the memory to prove it.

----

The Great Hall was ruined. The doors were locked and bolted; sealed with spells Harry probably didn't even know existed. The walls were dented in various places where spells had missed their intended targets and the windows had small spidery cracks marring the surface. Glass looking like it could shatter at any moment. Any moment at all. Four tables lay scattered around the room. In pieces, they had been ripped apart but the battle that had just been fought. Legs broken apart, it was impossible to determine which table had been for which house. Seems like, somehow, Hogwarts had united after all.

Harry knelt down, closing the eyes of a dead sixth year Hufflepuff who had just been defending him. A crunch behind him instantly alerted him to the other person in the Hall. The only other who had survived.

"Voldemort." Harry stood, breathing heavily as he glared at him enemy.

The Dark Lord inclined his head in answer, a small smile on his lips but didn't speak.

"So, this is where it ends?" Harry stated grimly. The question not really a question. More of a tired musing. A silent promise. A hard, cold fact.

"Yes, Harry Potter," Voldemort's soft, serpentine voice whispered, almost soothingly, in reply. As if trying to reassure him. But Harry knew what it was. A sick and twisted façade. A façade that didn't even seem real. His crimson eyes gave him away, cold and mocking; contrasting with his softer tone. " this is where it ends."

Harry sighed, ignoring the cut along his arm, the broken ribs that hurt every time he shifted position, and moved into a battle stance. He was ready. This was the moment he had been waiting all his life for. The moment he could finally be free, whether it was Voldemort who died or him. Not that he was suicidal or anything. Oh no. He was going to fight to the end. Looking into Voldemort's cruel, guarded eyes, Harry chose his next words with caution. "I expected more from you Riddle. Some gloating, perhaps? Why so quick to kill?"

"Now, Harry, you think to much of yourself. Why should I gloat to you, boy, when I have already won?" There was power in Voldemort's stance. The type of terrifying strength that has grown men fleeing in fear. Harry didn't blame them. He feared Voldemort too. The unnatural grace he expressed when he moved and the calculating stare in his eyes, crimson, like fresh blood. It was smart to be afraid. Everything about Voldemort screamed dangerous and Harry knew that his fighting style was, literally, unmatched. It was logical to he afraid. Realistic. Part of the 'rules'.

But since when had Harry ever followed any rules?

True he was scared but he wasn't going to let that bother him. He embraced his fear, it made him concentrate. Just because your afraid doesn't mean your weak. Just because your afraid doesn't mean you can't do what you have to do. What you need to do.

And, so, he faced Voldemort just like his father had. Straight backed and proud.

"You have not already won. You said that you'd win when the last man in this hall had fallen." Harry spat. Voldemort stared at him, unimpressed. Then he smiled. A predatory grin. Voldemort's eyes gained a thoughtful calculating air. As if staged, they began to circle each other both looking for weakness'. Things they could use to destroy the other.

"But I'm still standing." His emerald eyes glinted with a challenging glare. Voldemort tilted his head to the side as if he was finally facing a challenge. The bloodlust in his eyes showing that he was ready to kill.

"You want this world? Huh? You want control? Fine, you can have it." Harry snarled.

"You'll just have to go through me first."

---

You may wonder why I'm starting at the end. It is easier for me to retrace Harry's steps than to lead up to the end. Too start at the last memory rather than the first. Anyway, the memories I found were not in a specific order. They were scattered, almost disjointed. Suffering mixed into happiness. Faith with despair…but that's what happened in the war, wasn't it? The harsh times had points where people could forget and rise above their grief. That is one of the things I admire about the people fighting in the war. They never gave up. Voldemort could take their friends away from them, there family, their homes, their futures…their lives, but he could not take away their memories. Not when they were stored in a Pensive. Not when they could create new ones.

After all, as Dumbledore once said, happiness can be found in even the darkest of places, if only one remembers to turn on the light.

The next chapter of this essay will discuss his time with the order and then I will gradually progress through the war until I get back to where I started.

Still, as I analysed this scene as part of my work, I became interested in the battle before the confrontation between Voldemort and Harry. Everyone who had entered the hall had died and I just thought about why Harry had managed to live. The historian of source one doesn't even mention the subject of Harry capabilities. If he survived this fight that he had to of been quite powerful. Or maybe Voldemort had ordered Harry left alive? If so, why had he not killed him earlier? There were so many unanswered questions in my mind. Questions I knew had to be answered. Still, I followed the memories in the correct order instead of intentionally digging for the answer.

After deciding to be patient to find the answer of this question, I found another more pressing one that I knew needed to be answered. There was no survivors from the great Hall massacre so…

If Harry Potter died then…how did those memories get into his Pensive?

If not him, then who put them there?

And how did they get his memories?

---

Sorry its so short. Its not supposed to be very long. Future chapters will be but this one is a shorter, more poignant, chapter. Or…its supposed to be. I hope you liked it. Thank you to all the reviewers that persuaded me to continue this. I was going to…but not now. Still, updates will probably not be very often but I'm suffering from writers block with my other story so I'm writing a bit of this one.

Thank you for reading,

Midnight Glade