A/n: I'm now running out of ideas. I never planned for this to be a long story, so I think it'll be over soon.

Chapter 8

Harry's scar burned again. It felt like he was almost immune to the feeling, but perhaps that was because he was already looking through Voldemort's eyes instead of his own.

How dare the boy show weakness now? Now when he most wanted him to fight, to die trying; now he would make it too easy? No, he would not allow it. Murder raging in his every thought, he performed the incantation that would reenervate Potter.

Potter's eyes opened slowly, far too slowly for his taste. He ordered a Death Eater to tie him up and place him by the wall. He would have his fun before he finished off Potter.

Harry felt himself being pushed against the wall, his arms bound behind his back. He was really trapped this time. Ron was across the room and gagged, the sword was covered by the invisibility cloak and so went unnoticed. Voldemort flashed a malicious smile at Harry as he lifted the curse that kept the Dursleys unconsciously rotating. They fell with a crash to the floor.

Petunia began screaming immediately. Voldemort silenced her easily with a casual flick of his wand. Vernon looked like he was choking, or worse, having a seizure. Dudley just looked baffled. Like he had no idea what was going on or how he had gotten here. Which was probably how he was actually feeling.

A Death Eater holding Hermione and Ron's wands sneered down at Harry. No matter how hard Harry racked his brain, he couldn't come up with any kind of a solution.

"Potter," Voldemort hissed, snapping Harry out of his reverie. All three of the Dursleys heads spun to look at Harry. Shock filled three pairs of eyes. Harry glanced at Dudley, who looked almost angry. Odd, but Harry didn't have the time to think about what that meant right now.

He turned back to Voldemort and said, "Look, you've got me now. Just let them go, they can't hurt you," he nodded to the Dursleys and Ron, who were all helpless right now. As was he. If he to die today, there was no way he would drag the others down with him.

Voldemort ignored his comment. "Did you know your cousin has been doing magic Potter?" Harry's eyes snapped back to Dudley's, who's were wide with fear at being mentioned by the terrifying skeleton. How the hell was Dudley doing magic? The Dursleys had always been the definition of Muggle. Why would that have changed?

Harry had felt horrible leaving Hestia and Dedalus with his aunt, uncle and cousin; he knew they would make their lives a living hell. But suddenly Dudley had an aptitude for wizardry? That really made no sense. But there were definitely more important things to think about right now. Like how to get them all out safely.

Voldemort sneered again at Harry's feeble attempts to save his loved one's. Checking to see if Harry was watching, he raised he wand and pointed directly at Vernon, who already looked about to pass out. Simultaneously, the Dursleys flinched away from him.

Harry's scar only gave him a second's warning. Not that the warning was of any use.

"No!" was all his hoarse voice was able to scream before the jet of green struck Vernon square in the chest. His lifeless body moved no more. The color did not return to his face, but the purple of before was replaced with a very pale white.

Vernon Dursley was dead. The uncle that Harry had despised was gone. Forever. And it was completely and totally his fault. Harry roared with anger, and Voldemort smiled. This was the reaction he he'd been waiting for, more or less.

Again, he pointed his wand at Harry and performed the Cruciatus Curse. Harry was far too awake to pass out again. Vernon had always played a part in his life, it had not always been pleasant, but he had always been there. The Dursleys had been the only part of his life that he'd been sure of. They were rocks, unchanging and hard. And always there. He had known so many wizards that had died, but the Dursleys dying seemed impossible.

For the first time in living memory Vernon had looked scared. He had looked exactly as Dudley and Petunia did now, like a frightened child, begging for his life. He had glanced at Harry as Voldemort raised his wand, as if pleading for help. It was Harry's fault his uncle was dead. It was his fault his aunt and cousin were next. This was all his fault.

Harry bit his lip to keep from screaming; he didn't want to give Voldemort the satisfaction. He couldn't keep his body from twitching, and so writhed about in his bonding until Voldemort lifted the curse.

Suddenly, Petunia found the words she had been trying so hard to scream. "You bastard! First Lily and now Vernon? Bastard!" her next words were mumbled into hysterical sobs. She knew she was powerless against this devil, and there was nothing absolutely nothing she could do. Voldemort silenced her again with another flick of his wand.

Dudley placed his arm around her in a one-armed hug. This could not be happening. His dad had no just died right before his eyes. No. He couldn't form words had the moment so he switched from glaring silently at Voldemort to gazing woefully at Harry. He showed no fear, just determination.

But somehow, through it all, he wished Harry hadn't come. After all Hestia and Dedalus had told them, Harry had to be the one to finish this man. And he wouldn't be able to do that now. And it was their fault. Because of their ignorance, the entire world would surely end.

"NO!" Harry yelled as he pointed his wand at Dudley this time. "You coward! You won't even fight; you just kill defenseless Muggles! I thought you wanted to finish this! Give me my wand and we will finish this!" Harry knew Voldemort never backed down from a challenge, not that too many wizards had the guts to face him head on.

Harry didn't exactly know what his plan was, because he knew there were still three more Horcruxes out there, and he would not be able to win. But if he could just buy some time for the others, do something…

He really had no hope, but he knew he couldn't just sit here watching everyone die, waiting for his turn. Voldemort turned slowly. An evil smile lit up his face yet again. Harry knew he would accept the challenge this time. Voldemort knew he had nothing to lose, for he was still immortal.

"All right," he flicked his wand, and Harry's ropes fell away. He scrambled onto his feet. "Give Potter back his wand. If he is so impatient for death, I will give it to him, because I am merciful. You will join your uncle in no time at all." Hermione's wand was shoved back into his hand.

Sweat lined his brow; his clammy hands were shaking. How were they going to get out of this one? Petunia and Dudley still looked ready to pass out and Ron looked as if he would surely vomit. Harry realized he was almost waiting for help, though no one would possibly know they were down here.

It seemed to be a practiced duet between the pair of them. As if on command, Voldemort screamed Avada Kedarvra as Harry yelled Expelliarmus. But there was a difference this time; the twin cores were gone. Hermione's completely ordinary wand would give him no advantage here.

Harry had no choice; he dove to the ground to avoid the spell. Voldemort flicked away his feeble curse as if it were a fly. Harry hadn't even realized he was cornering himself. His back hit he wall and Voldemort smiled again. This was the end.

Harry blinked away the sweat in his eyes, but when he opened his them again, there was no light. Darkness surrounded him. Had Voldemort really acted so quickly? Was he already dead? No, this was not death; this was too noisy.

Harry could still hear the others around him. Voldemort was screeching orders to his followers and Petunia was screaming again. Suddenly a rough pair of hands grabbed his arm. What the hell was happening?