*walks in with Snape, armed with everything that will be needed: quills, parchment, firewood and anti-sleeping potion* Hey all. After all the pleas of 'I can't wait any more!' the Gryffindor in me decided I should write the instalment instead of sleep. The Slytherin in me is satisfied enough with the pleading *snickers* *Snape rolls his eyes and fixes himself a bloody mary, as befits battles, hands her a baileys on the rocks with due sneering*
Snape also told me to remind you, in case you don't remember from GWTT 1, that any spell chanted with ento homes in. Harry uses it for spells that need accurate aim.
Okay! The moment you've been waiting for!
Chapter 19 *hit play*
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Your Gryffindor traits are your weakness, thought Voldemort as he pointed his wand at the blind teenager and fired a curse instead of talking:
"Crucio!"
"Diverto!" came Harry's countercurse, in calm, easy tones, as if he was in Remus Lupin's DADA class. Indeed, the terrible Unforgivable seemed to perform a 45 degree turn upwards and smash against a boulder in Stonehenge. Voldemort couldn't believe his eyes. Nobody before had had the strength, the magical stamina to actually deflect the Cruciatus. It caused a reaction in the Dark Wizard that he didn't appreciate at all:
Fear started creeping in his heart about Harry Potter.
***
The mist from the canaries had dissipated enough to reveal the triumphant moments of the Weasley Twins. The periphery of the solemn monument that Stonehenge was had suddenly turned into a huge prank arena.
"George! Ferret Bonanzas!" yelled Fred happily as he pelted a group of 3 Death Eaters with what seemed to be innocent lollipops. However, the moment they made contact with anything organic, fur started to grow, ears shrunk and rounded, teeth elongated and tails sprouted, morphing the unfortunate minions into rodents with no capacity to speak spells or hold wands.
"It definitely goes in the menu!" called George over his shoulder, then nimbly, as was the general Study Group trait, avoided sinister curses to retaliate with another invention especially prepared in order to deal with aggressive adults: He dipped his wand into a thin bottle full of potion and blew on its tip, producing hundreds of soap bubbles. Circling the great monoliths, they grew and grew and gaily floated towards George's targets. Those that weren't popped, successfully encased the dark wizards in a good variant of the Bubble Charm. The periphery of Stonehenge had become quite hard to breach by any Death Eater wanting to get inside.
Hermione and Ron were fighting back to back in a rather less humourous way than the Weasley Twins, yet equally effective. They had sustained minor damage and had managed to prevent from their side any Death Eater trying to get towards the most important duelling couple: Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort.
Neville Longbottom felt for the first time in his life that he was doing justice to his father's name. On the other side of the inner circle of Stonehenge, he too protected the privacy of the Boy-Who-Lived and his adversary. As a matter of fact, the skittish tendency that had been so well cultivated all these years in the Potions classroom served him now to avoid and defend enough to be a countable adversary to any Death Eater that advanced. It had really started to become embarrassing for the dark wizards; it was a handful of 15 year olds that was putting them to shame. Some had started to wander if Dumbledore had fed them something special.
It was just when the dark robes running around had started to become less plentiful, just when Neville had gotten a taste of what cockiness traditionally came with Gryffindor traits, that something he did not expect happened: pale thick coils snaked around him, first around his legs, tripping him, then around his body gradually yet swiftly, ensnaring him. Neville gasped in fear and surprise. Nagini, Voldemort's own familiar, had attacked, taking part in the battle. It hissed and spat ominously, the serpentine jaws opening to reveal gleaming fangs. Neville paled, his mind going blank while staring in those hideous, expressionless, sinister eyes. Desperately he tried moving his hand to use his wand- the coils tightened so much he had trouble breathing.
"Petrificus Totalis!" shouted a welcome voice and the snake froze.
"Ginny!" Neville squeaked in relief.
Ginny ran up to Neville anxiously, then put the tip of her wand on the head of the motionless snake that still kept Neville captive by its rigidity. Her eyes flashed angrily as she spat the next curse:
"Tetum Dissolva!"
In a flamboyant explosion of frozen particles, Nagini's head erupted, killing her instantly. The thick coils relaxed, the petrifying spell breaking with the animal's death, and Neville hurried to be freed of it.
"Thank you so much, Ginny," he breathed, his heart still racing.
"Eh, I had been dreaming to kill a large snake ever since my first year," Ginny said with a grim, wry smile.
***
Harry advanced towards Voldemort, calmly, in control, his wand held at the ready, his eyes immobile and sightless, yet his awareness armed with a kind of vision that disquieted the Dark Lord- and he hated that.
"Your effortsss are vain, boy," hissed Voldemort, circling around Harry. While Harry's head didn't follow Voldemort's movements, the tip of his wand did. Harry smirked.
"I can see the lie in your voice. You are cornered, Voldemort- there is nowhere else to run."
"The Ministry is mine- by tomorrow the wizarding world will be in ruinssss, assssking for my mercccccy," hissed Voldemort lazily, but found Harry's calm demeanour peculiar.
"The Ministry is free, the Death Eaters you sent there are indicted, and Minister Bagman no longer is under your control," Harry said simply, knowing that throwing this on Voldemort would have rather explosive results. He hoped he was gambling cleverly.
Indeed, Voldemort's rage skyrocketed, seeing his last ace in the game turned to ashes. Dumbledore had won again, and this time he had placed his pawns so well around him, that he could actually win the game, not just the round. But all is not lost, yet. Some pawns can be converted. He smiled poisonously at the defiant teenager opposite him, and he pointed his wand at him.
"How clever of Dumbledore… he uses his pawns well. But I know you, Harry Potter, I know you well."
"You know nothing of me," Harry said, frowning slightly, alarmed by the lack of sound coming from his adversary.
"Don't I? Cerebra Overto!" snarled Voldemort. Harry shouted in the same time, the same curse that he had used in his very first duel with the Dark Lord:
"Ento Expelliarmus!"
***
Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini soared through the skies towards Stonehenge on Buckbeak. Blaise noticed that Draco was shivering, still bleeding in many places and obviously feeling the toll of the fight at the Headquarters more now that adrenaling was receeding. She took her wand out and casted a warming spell. Draco breathed more easily and smiled thinly.
"Thanks, Zabini."
"You're welcome. I was cold too, anyway," Blaise said, holding on tightly to Draco, not only because she didn't want to fall off.
"So, Zabini… figure this is going to be Voldemort's last night on earth?"
"I don't know," Blaise said truthfully. "I hope so."
"What are you going to do afterwards… if well… if there is an afterwards?" Draco asked, then bit his lip. He wasn't certain he wanted to talk about the future. He still had not met his mother and had no idea what her position was in all of this.
"I don't know… I haven't thought much about… about afterwards."
"You're probably right. We still might get killed," Draco said bluntly, and Blaise shrugged.
There was a pause, with only the sound of Buckbeak's wings beating the air, then Draco swallowed and took the nerve to speak again, as indifferently as he could muster.
"But say, Zabini… if there is an afterwards… you're welcome to come live with me- I have the cash to see us through to the next generation."
"But your father hates you," Blaise reasoned, equally bluntly. Draco laughed mirthlessly.
"That he does, but he didn't have the time to disinherit me- I sent a letter to Gringotts right after Hogwarts Attack. Seems Mr. Malfoy wanted his son to have the key to the Malfoy Vaults."
Blaise's eyebrows shot up.
"You forged your father's signature!?"
Draco almost cackled.
"Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin, they say," he drawled and shrugged, holding on to Buckbeak. Blaise snickered on her own accord.
"Draco Malfoy, you are my personal hero," she said as Buckbeak soared downwards towards Hastings.
***
As the two curses shot out from the twin wands of Harry and Voldemort, the twin cores of the wands reacted again as they had the first time they were put against each other. The golden cage of energy started to form around the combatants. But this was not like the night Cedric died. This was not a cemetery. This was Stonehenge, where the Dragon could be summoned, where Magic forever flowed; and the reaction that followed stunned the bystanders.
A pale bluish light coated the monoliths that created the magical ruins, snaking around like silk veils. In spirals they surrounded Harry and Voldemort until they were in a giant forcefield that abruptly lifted them both off the ground and over all of Stonehenge, as if placing them in the top of a cathedral's dome. The sky around them lost the inkiness of the night and became mauve, the purplish clouds surreal and spiralling around them just like the monument's magical energy was.
The two spells hit their mutual targets. Voldemort's wand flew from his hand and towards Harry, who caught it. The odd incantation that Voldemort had casted against Harry surrounded his head and was absorbed. Harry screamed in agony, holding his temples. Voldemort ignored the odd happenings around them, choosing to focus against his young opponent. The youngest Potter's mind was open to him, and he had one chance to tempt and lure the Boy-Who-Lived to him.
"You have given everything to Dumbledore, even after he took your parents for you. But yet he hasn't given you the one thing you crave," he spoke soothingly now, seductively like he had once done, before his appearance matched his soul.
"Stop!" yelled Harry, his voice pained, but was still disoriented.
"You know what it is I speak of," he went on mercilessly. "You admitted it to me once, in your dream. You gave me your consent."
"I never did, I never did!" Harry protested in agony, but his heart skipped in fear. There was truth in Voldemort's words.
"Oh you did. You told me in your dream, once. You would do anything, remember? Anything to have your sight back. That is your contract."
"No!" Harry screamed again.
"Oh yes, young Harry Potter… it is, and you know it as well as I… and so I will give you your sight back, and your soul will be bonded to mine," Voldemort cackled and pointed his hand at Harry.
"Give me back my wand, and your sight is yours, forever."
"No…" Harry said, but he was unsteady. To see again? To be able to experience colours, to look at light, to see the food he tastes not through the eyes of a snake, but with his very own, human vision?
"Why not? What do you owe Dumbledore? He has used you, left you with muggles that cannot understand your value, he has manipulated you and hidden things from you as he saw fit. There is a spell to restore your sight, Harry Potter. Has he taught you that spell? Did you even know it exists?"
Voldemort's words struck deep in Harry's soul, right to the cockles of his heart. Voldemort was pushing every hurtful button, he was tearing out everything painful, everything that had made him angry and he had suppressed, and using it against him.
And for once, Harry couldn't defend himself. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and a turmoil of feelings of anger and hate and chagrin filled him. Voldemort smiled and worked the knife in the wound expertly, watching the boy's reactions.
"I thought you didn't. Give me back my wand, Harry, and I will give you back your eyes. You said in your dream that you would do anything, give anything. All I want from you is my wand," he said, his voice a caress to the ears.
"You are evil," said Harry sadly, but he had lowered his hand from the guarded position, and he stood like he was being beaten and hurt.
"Is it evil that I want to give you what has been deprived of you? It is only a wand, Harry Potter, for the world of the sighted to open to you again," Voldemort continued the weaving.
Harry's hand holding Voldemort's wand twitched, and he moved it towards the Dark Wizard. He clenched his fingers around it, reluctant and in the same time eager to relinquish it. It was only just a wand, wasn't it?
…Not Harry, please…
…take Harry and run!...
…stand aside, girl…
…take my body to my parents, Harry…
Voldemort saw the sadness in the unmoving eyes harden into rage- he wanted them to, he was banking on it, and the boy was almost ready to give him his wand back. He reached out, coming closer to Harry, to receive it as the boy tended it to him, when suddenly, Harry pulled his hand back and pointed his own wand against Voldemort's chest. Sobs were hacking his chest and the young man's expression was of twisted pain, of someone shredding his last hope of regaining something dear.
"Back. Back, you vermin," Harry said in a steely voice, his eyes alive with flame and emotion that was even more dramatic with the dialated pupils.
"Harry-" Voldemort tried to coax the Gryffindor.
"I want nothing from you, murderer! I would take nothing from the one that killed my family! Back and do not touch me, Tom Riddle!"
Voldemort's face contorted into a horrible snarl that washed away anything human from his face. Where did the strength stem in this small body, where did the boy find the power to defy him, as he had always done ever since his birth? Voldemort let out a howl of hatred and lunged at Harry, his long, spidery fingers closing around his wand as they fell against the spiralling magical energy that held them in the skies.
"I'll kill you, even as a muggle I will kill you, poisonous brat!" Voldemort hissed in Parseltongue as he rolled this way and that with Harry, one hand trying to control the wand, the other trying to choke the boy.
***
Albus Dumbledore walked towards Stonehenge, taking his time. He knew what his task was, whatever the outcome of the battle taking place there. He looked at Fawkes who was flying above him. Soon he would be met with his closest, most trusted Order members, for the chapter of Voldemort in the history of the Wizarding World to end.
Indeed, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black apparated nearby and gathered around the headmaster.
"I still think this part of the plan was not necessary," Sirius said anxiously.
"For once I agree with him. Can't we at least go a little faster there?" Severus said irritably.
"You can see the glow even before you actually see the monument," Remus muttered, biting his lip. Albus sighed.
"You have to trust me, even if I did not take your advice on this particular matter. I am not gambling with young Harry's life, nor would I take a risk I wouldn't be fairly certain I would win regarding Tom," he said tiredly, as he looked towards the flickering glow.
"Fairly certain?" snarled Snape, Remus and Sirius in unison, for the first time towards Albus Dumbledore himself.
Before the Headmaster had the time to answer, a great flash of light turned night into day for a second, then everything went dark. Without any more words, all the wizards hurried towards there.
***
Harry grunted as he struggled with Voldemort. It was amazing how much strength existed in those bony, skinny fingers that tightened around his neck like an icy vice. He felt the wand being pulled roughly from his grip, but he held onto it desperately. I shouldn't have sat to hear him! I should have cursed him while he spoke! Stupid, stupid, stupid, why don't you ever do what Snape tells you!?
It would be over in a second- the wand would be pried from his fingers and Voldemort would kill him from close range. He had to do something, he had to use all his knowledge now, while he still had a thin hope of doing his task. Voldemort was ignoring his other hand that was holding his own wand, because at the moment he was squeezing his throat so much Harry could hardly utter a word, much less a spell. But an image came to Harry's mind, of an aunt bloated like a balloon towards the ceiling of a muggle house in Privet Drive…
The movement was so quick that Voldemort only saw a blur and heard the telltale sound of wood hitting wood. Then Harry's eyes slipped closed and he stopped struggling, now gripping both wands with both his hands. The long wooden batons started glowing even though the Boy-Who-Lived had said nothing. Voldemort blinked, unsure of what was going on. By the time he felt the alarm and tried to disengage completely from Harry, it was too late.
The wands' glow grew stronger and stronger until the bluish spiralling magic energy emanated from Stonehenge was diverted from its monotonous flow and soared through the cores of both wands. The wood shone red before the wands fused into one, and Harry opened his eyes. They were still unmoving, still dilated, but the pupils resonated with the magic strength, and Voldemort grew panicky, desperate to get away from a tangle he could not undo.
"Your time is over," Harry said softly, as if talking to a baby.
"No!" screamed Tom Riddle, his crimson eyes wide with terror, but it was too late, the powerful magic that Harry had summoned suddenly erupted between them in a flash of light so strong everything became invisible for a second.
Then, just as suddenly as everything had begun, the flow stopped, and the two bodies that had been suspended up in the sky fell freely downwards. Those of the Study Group that were not still blinded by the light were too stunned to do anything as Harry fell limply along with Voldemort towards the cold stones of Stonehenge with nobody to save him.
"Catch him!" shrieked Blaise, pointing ahead. Buckbeak gave it his all as Draco leaned outwards just as he did when he desperately wanted to catch the Snitch. In a breathtaking manoeuvre rivalling the Wronsky Feint, Draco and Blaise caught Harry's body just before he bounced off the top boulders of the magical monument.
Everyone cheered from below as the hippogriff made a landing ark. Nobody paid the slightest attention at the dull thud of the Dark Lord's broken body, heard ominously as the cheering died down. For the young Gryffindor the Draco gently laid out on the ground amongst his friends, was waxy and immobile, his emerald green eyes glassy and open, dead.
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One more chapter to go! This story will have 20 chapters after all. *looks above, then at the shocked faces of everyone around her* um… hey, I killed Voldie! *eerie silence, turns to Snape, GLARE from Snape* ehh…. don't kill me yet, I have one more chapter to write! *bolts*
In any case, I am way too tired to answer reviews now, but just because many mentioned it: the red curse that hit Draco was NOT Avada Kedavra. Rather it was the one that hit Sirius in OoP… which is why, if you notice, it is Remus that taught Draco the countercurse, not Sirius… everything settled now?
Oh, and PS: TRUST DUMBLEDORE, DAMMIT! *chuckles*