The Second Chance
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything of Harry Potter. This story is inspired by Kurinoone's awesome amazing story 'The Darkness Within', which was inspired by Project Dark Overlord's wonderful fic- 'A Shattered Prophesy'.
Chapter 27: Last Duel
Harry narrowed his eyes, waiting for the Dark Lord to strike, but Voldemort was done being predictable. With a flick of his wand, a great surge of raw power, dark and pulsing crashed into the Hogwarts barriers which went wild, flashing red even as Fiend Fire lingered at the sight of destruction.
Harry saw Dumbledore go down, his eyes wide with unconcealed agony; but before he could utter another curse, Voldemort had already Disapparated.
x
Minutes before...
Hermione tore down the corridors of Hogwarts, trying to keep Ron in sight, but her redheaded friend could run too fast; to say she was keeping up was a great understatement.
Seconds later, Draco caught up with her, his grey eyes searching the corridor up and down. "Where did Weasley go?" he snapped, his wand held prepared between his fingers.
"He s-said he would go out to take a look, and the next thing I saw- P-Professor Dumbledore had fallen..." Hermione broke off, almost unable to finish as a fresh flood of tears overcame her, but she hastily brushed them away. "I heard him yelling something about a traitor, then he just went thundering away..."
Draco didn't wait for a further explaination. "Point me," he hissed at his wand, then without a second word took off in the direction where Ron had passed through, Hermione close by his heels.
It was a sad fact that neither Draco nor Hermione were adept at running; Draco had ever trained himself to cast spells and endure the strain of constant use of magic, but his physical stamina was in other words, rather lacking. They tore through the Great Hall, following Draco's wand and finally burst through the double doors, ignoring the cries and whimpers of the students in the Hall.
"There!" Hermione gasped; Ron could be seen pelting towards the heat of the battle, firing curses as he ran swiftly. But from afar, the image of Rosier Jr. was clearly seen for what it was; just an image and nothing more.
Draco stopped short. "This is bad," he muttered, panting heavily.
"This is bad?" Hermione spluttered in disbelief and near hysteria. "Merlin Draco, Ron's reaching the wards- we've got to get him back!"
"We won't make it in time!" Draco shouted back as they resumed their run, tearing across the grounds where a small crowd had gathered over Dumbledore's fallen body.
"Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione shouted, a beam of red light speeding out of her wand, but Ron was already lost from sight. Draco fell back as Hermione continued onwards until she reached the edge of the wards, still casting Stunners uselessly, crying out Ron's name again and again for him to come back, but Ron had already crossed the boundaries into the Forbidden Forest.
"No..." she murmured, pounding the barriers helplessly with her fist. "Ron!"
"Weasley walked straight into their trap, there's nothing we can do about it now," Draco said harshly, pulling Hermione away from the barriers which pulsed red whenever she punched it. "You're only hurting yourself."
Sure enough, scorch marks could be seen on Hermione's fist, red and angry.
"They won't kill him," Draco reassured her as he let her go. "Well, at least not yet. Obviously, somebody wanted him to be caught for a reason..."
"Rosier Jr. ," Hermione spat suddenly; Draco had never seen her look so angry before. "He must have eavesdropped on our conversations somehow... or perhaps he guessed that Ron's the Secret Keeper. He was also the one to cast the curse that k-killed Professor Dumbledore, I'm sure of it."
"So he cast an image of himself and had Ron chase that image out of the grounds, possibly into the waiting arms of Death- Eaters stationed outside," Draco murmured. "And if Voldemort knows that Ron is the Secret Keeper..."
He trailed off, not bothering to complete his sentence; for both of them knew, if Voldemort took advantage of Ron being the Secret Keeper of Hogwarts, all of them would be killed.
"We must take down the wards," Draco said at last, "before Voldemort places the Imperius Curse on Weasley."
"But we don't even know how to," Hermione countered, "Professor Dumbledore only told Ron and Damien."
"Professor McGonagall," Draco said suddenly, "She's bound to know something."
"But what about Rosier?" Hermione asked as she struggled to keep up with Draco's long strides back towards the field where people were still gathered over the fallen Headmaster. "What if he tries something else?"
"I highly doubt he would," Draco replied as they approached the castle, "but in any case..."
He broke off as the glass window above them promptly shattered into pieces. He had only managed to snap up a shield covering them both from the glass shards raining down when an extremely familiar voice from above shouted, "Expelliarmus!"
Hermione and Draco exchanged looks.
"I think someone got to him first."
Voldemort walked in a full circle around the fallen boy crumpled before him, his ruby red eyes searching intently. Albus Dumbledore, the ever manipulative fool had managed to make a Secret Keeper out of this mere boy. It was foolish certainly, but clever... he would have not suspected a student... but his inside spy had played his part well, had delivered the boy to his hands...
A pulse of blue light suddenly headed towards him. He narrowly sidestepped it, but it caused a Death- Eater to fall over, unconscious instead. His anger flared, and he looked up to meet emerald green eyes once more.
"Not going to play with me, father?"
Voldemort's ruby red eyes narrowed as bitterness and disgust flared within him. Hatred was boiling deep and dark, like his roiling power waiting to be released, but it had to hold... he had far more important things to tend to before he would kill the boy... he couldn't risk Harry foiling his plans once more.
"Not yet, I'm afraid, Harry," he replied lightly, instead. "But where's your brother?"
It served its purpose, Harry's eyes hooded over, a dark shade of black stealing over emerald for the briefest of seconds; but before the boy knew it, he gave the signal, and suddenly twenty wands were trained on Harry, daring him to make a move.
"Only twenty?" Harry mocked, but his jaw was clenched tight as his eyes flickered towards Ron, judging the distance between them. "I'm wounded."
Then the first curse left his follower's wand, and all hell broke loose.
xXx
Hogwarts
They had just laid Professor Dumbledore's body on a bed in the Hospital Wing, eyes closed, fingers over his wand as though he were sleeping. Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey were saying something in the background, their voices broken, but Professor McGonagall's eyes were only trained on the two students before her.
"We need you to take down the wards immediately," Draco said. "The moment Voldemort enters Ron Weasley's mind, he could easily kill all of the students in this school."
"I would do so right away," Professor McGonagall spoke, her voice betraying no emotion, "but I can't take down the wards alone. I require Mr. Damien Potter's magic. There must be at least two of us."
Heavy silence reigned for a moment, everyone thinking furiously of solutions but drawing a blank. Time was falling short, fast.
By some insane quirk of luck, or perhaps fate had decided to turn her tide completely to their favour; at that moment, there was a shout at the door, and a Third- Year Hufflepuff came stumbling into the office, eyes wide and panting.
"Madam Pomfrey! You're needed downstairs... Damien Potter was just delivered through the gates! His father supported him until the edge of the wards. He's badly injured and needs medical attention."
Hermione felt her blood run cold, but Professor McGonagall remained impassive and calm, though her eyes seemed to cloud over with worry. "No Simpson, tell a few older students to leviate him on a stretcher up here. It would be faster. Quickly!"
The student's eyes widened briefly before he hastened to obey the order.
Hermione was torn between staying or flying back to the Gryffindor Tower to rummage for the Marauder's Map, to find Rosier Jr. and Ginny... for the voice shouting the curse was undoubtedly the youngest Weasley's. What if she didn't manage to beat Rosier Jr.? Considering Ginny was a great duelist and was already in her Sixth Year, Hermione had confidence in her friend's ablities, but she still needed to check...
As if her thoughts had summoned her, Ginny's voice immediately floated through the open Hospital Wing door- "Out of my way!"- so much so Hermione thought she had to be imagining things. Two streaks of luck in a span of a few minutes! Talk about fate.
"Ginny!" she cried, unable to contain herself, even as the familiar red headed girl burst into the Hospital Wing doors, leviating an unconscious Damien before her. She laid him gently on an empty bed as Madam Pomfrey fussed over the youngest Potter, inhaling sharply as she saw the damage of Fiend fire on the boy.
They quickly trooped out of the Hospital Wing for Madam Pomfrey to work in peace after that. Hermione threw her arms around her only friend left, barely containing her tirrade of emotions; fear, overwhelming fear, the pang of loss, worry, anger, tiredness...
Ginny quickly returned the hug even as Draco stalked off somewhere else without another word. "Where have you been all day, I've been looking everywhere for you guys!" Ginny said as Hermione released her.
"We've been... planning," Hermione said, flushed, feeling guilty for leaving the younger girl out. "I'm so sorry Ginny, we wanted to tell you, but-"
"It's okay now, Hermione... I'm fine with it," she tried to reassure her friend. "Okay, maybe I wasn't at first, but that's not important right now."
"Did you get Rosier?" Hermione asked abruptly as she suddenly remembered as she noticed Ginny's bleeding lip for the first time. "That was you duelling him right?"
"Spot on," Ginny said easily with a small smile which managed to lift Hermione's spirit a little despite everything. "He was pretty good, I guess, but I flattened him all the same. He's now paralyzed... two Stunners to the head. Won't be waking up for a while. He's in the Hospital Wing by the way... in the secluded corner cordoned off from the rest." Her eyes hardened at this. "He's considered extremely lucky he's still alive," she said darkly.
Before she could say anything else, however, the barriers suddenly began to go haywire once more, pulsing bright red and flashing green at the same time. There were cries and shouts ensuing from the Great Hall, pandemonium breaking wild. Hermione leapt up from her seat and rushed into the Hospital Wing, ignoring the doors as they slammed behind her, Ginny following behind closely.
"It's too late Professor!" Hermione gasped as she ran into Professor McGonagall who was still in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey was still checking Damien's vitals; her friend still remained unconscious."Voldemort has already manipulated the wards."
xXx
Harry threw himself to one side, narrowly avoiding the horde of spells thundering his way as he fired a few more in return. Even so, a Slicing Hex managed to find its mark, and Harry hissed in pain as it cut deeply into his wand arm.
His sole attention was fixed on Voldemort; he could not allow the Dark Lord to manipulate Weasley, or all was done for.
"Ennervate!" he hissed again, three tendrils of white light heading towards the fallen figure of Ron Weasley, yet once again Voldemort blocked it by firing a jet of red light in return. Both spells collided in a shower of sparks and disappeared.
Harry's eyes narrowed; the Death Eaters were repositioning themselves in a circle around him, effectively blocking any access to the fallen Weasley who was still lying there, completely vulnerable to attack. It was almost a miracle he hadn't been hit yet... but for how long? He could not hold them off forever. Perhaps he could have defeated them while protecting Ron... but Voldemort was different. His father was his equal. His only equal.
He wasn't his father! Not anymore.
With a growl he forced more spells out of his wand, keeping up a constant barrage of curses raining heavily on Voldemort even as he twirled about, forcing the Dark Lord to dodge and shield, cursing. The other Death- Eaters did not dare fire many hexes for fear they would hit their Lord instead.
"Stupefy!"
"Avada Kedavra!" another voice bellowed, and Harry only managed not to turn around in surprise; he recognised those two voices perfectly well.
He kept on moving though, pushing his magic even though it strained, not giving Voldemort a chance to retaliate. He pushed the Dark Lord further and further into the forest, he could not come near Ron Weasley...
Voldemort quickly realized Harry's intention, and with a last taunting smirk thrown over his shoulder, he vanished with a crack. Harry swore out loud, whirling around, but he immediately crashed into another figure- James Potter.
"Harry," the elder man said quietly, his lips pulled into a smile. Harry stumbled backwards, caught by surprise.
"Dad," Harry replied, his smile mirroring James' as he reached out to touch James' wrists. "You shouldn't be duelling yet, your wrist hasn't fully recovered..."
His fingers traced across skin; there were no welts on his wrist.
The man was not James Potter.
With a sudden burst of magic, Harry grasped 'James' wrist and twisted it viciously; he heard it crack and felt a surge of satisfaction.
"Take three more days," he taunted, eyes glinting as 'James' figure morphed back into Voldemort's livid face.
"What about you?" Voldemort hissed, and suddenly Harry's scar flared up in agony once more. The pain was so intense for a moment he forgot about the battle, and there was a sharp burning pain in his chest. When he glanced down, his shirt was already stained red, rapidly darkening, and edges of his vision was blurring.
"Not yet," Harry said through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he summoned his magic for the counter- curse again and again. The battle was far from over... he had to stop Voldemort, or the lives of all the students in Hogwarts were at stake. Even as he forced himself to concentrate, his magic quickly wormed its way across his chest, healing the wounds, and while he tried his best to recover, the real James Potter and Sirius Black arrived to defend him from Voldemort.
"Don't let him get away!" Harry just managed to growl, but it was too late. One second, a jet of green light was thundering out of Voldemort's wand, the next- Voldemort was already gone, the killing curse striking and scorching the bark of a tree. James and Sirius swore simultaneously, running towards the spot where the Dark Lord and his followers were a second before; but there was no sign of them.
And Ron's body was nowhere to be found.
It was at that same moment when there were screams and cries from the other side of the battlefield, and as Harry looked over, he felt his heart sink with dread.
Hogwarts barriers were now flashing both green and red. Voldemort had gained access to it after all.
The power that thrummed beneath his fingers was strong, yet it was not raw magic; it was beautifully crafted, each tendril intricate and precise. He remembered feeling a small touch of pride before it was overcome by sheer hatred, as the golden tendrils were forced to twist to his will.
He manipulated the fool, Weasley's mind, as a puppeteer would control a puppet, pushing Weasley's magic further and further, manipulating the wards.
It was just as he expected; he had helped Harry create the wards after all. Behind him, there was a loud gasp from the crowd as a silvery parchment unrolled before him, and all the names of the students and staff in Hogwarts were revealed before him.
There was silence; shock and fear paralysing the crowd behind him- it was beautiful. He watched their faces, and before ensuring he made contact with the emerald eyed boy, whose gaze seemed just as penetrating as his was.
"Do you believe me now when I tell you I am the one in power?" he laughed softly, his voice carrying over the Sonorous charm, echoing all around the compound. "No one can defy me. All of these lives are at my complete mercy... I could easily crush them. One by one."
"But perhaps you need some persuasion," he continued, smirking as he watched the bloody and tired Aurors and Order members stand defiantly before him, unrelenting. "A demonstration is in order... who shall I pick?"
He felt more than saw Harry struggling to stand up, to fight again, stumbling towards the edge of the clearing to confront him once more. He thrived off the challenge Harry posed; it was what that made the game so interesting. He paused, waiting for Harry to come closer, stumbling, saw the boy clench his jaw against all the pain.
There was only dark satisfaction he was learning to gain, as he witnessed the agony and knew he was the one to inflict it. Where James Potter could do nothing but stand by helplessly and watch Harry absorb it.
Harry was his son. If he lost this tool; no one else was allowed to have it.
"I'm afraid I harbour a certain distaste for disloyal members..." Voldemort hissed, sending a ripple through the crowd. "Let us start with a traitor, shall we?"
He raised his wand and cut a thick red line across the green letters of a certain student's name- Draco Malfoy.
As Damien, much to Madam Pomfrey's unsatisfaction, was forced to be woken up to perform the spell before he could heal completely, Draco was racing down the corridors back to Dumbledore's office.
The stone gargoyle was no longer active, it stood morosely aside, staring into space. Ignoring it completely, Draco sprinted up the spiral stairway and barged into Dumbledore's office. His heart was pounding loud in his ears; blood roaring despite his impassive appearance- he had never been more afraid in his life.
He knew without doubt, if Voldemort got his hands on the list... he would be among the first few to be crossed off. He had chosen to cross paths with the Dark Lord again... Voldemort would not let it go so easily.
He forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand however, and with trembling fingers wrenched open the drawer and snatched up the familiar wooden box Dumbledore had shown them earlier that day. It contained the emergency Portkeys for the students to use if the wards were to fail, as Dumbledore guessed they would.
Hastily, he turned and scrambled to leave, but even as the door swivelled shut behind him, he could almost hear the faint calm voice of late Professor saying, "Thank you, Draco" those words echoing in an almost inaudible whisper even as the staircase swivelled downwards with a pneumatic hiss.
x
His footsteps echoed loud and panicky across the silent Hall. Any minute now, the barriers would surely be flashing red. Perhaps someone had managed to hold off the Dark Lord. But it wouldn't be forever.
Even as he skidded to a halt before the students, hundreds of eyes were already on him.
"The wards are going to fall," he said aloud, numbly, oblivious to the cries of horror around him. "When they do... activate this. The password is 'home'."
He couldn't face their many questions, their stares, their questions and fears. He wasn't used to being in the spotlight, not anymore. He didn't want that life any longer.
Wordlessly, he scattered the quill Portkeys on the floor, and some of the students immediately scrambled to take it.
"Remember to hold onto someone holding the Portkey," he mumbled feebly, a last reminder. He felt cold, numb with fear.
It wasn't over yet. He had one last mission- Damien and the others were still in the Hospital Wing; they didn't have a Portkey.
He grabbed two more quills and ran back the way he had come, up the stairs, tearing down familiar corridors even as his breathing became increasingly laboured. By then, he could hear the shrieks and cries of terror, the wards were pulsing green and red, flashing irregularly.
He burst through the Hospital Wing doors, his heart pumping wildly, expectant-
"Draco, what's happening?" Hermione said, looking at him, wide- eyed with barely concealed fear. "The Portkeys- are they- ?"
"I've distributed them," he said impatiently, trying to cover up the tremor of his voice- "The wards, are they down yet?"
Then Voldemort began to speak. His voice was loud as it echoed eerily across the school compounds. And as he did so, silence- immense, impenetrable- settled over like a blanket- there was nothing but the sound of his voice, the promise of death.
"I harbour a certain dislike for traitors..."
"He means me," Draco said, hating the way his voice came out like a strangled whisper. But he wasn't brave- he couldn't simply muster up the courage to meet death, like Harry probably could. He was no Gryffindor.
"No Draco-" Hermione's grip on his arm was harsh, unrelenting, but he did not flinch away. His eyes simply met hers, unseeing. "It's okay, they're taking down the wards now, any moment-"
"We're close," Professor McGonagall snapped for the first time, tension in her voice evident. "Potter, I know this is difficult for you, but you need to push harder. I need more of your magic-"
"...Draco Malfoy"
At that hiss, Draco finally found strength just enough to shove Hermione away from him, send her stumbling into Ginny.
It was too late.
There were cries around him, a scream of denial, but for him there was nothing but endless agony, a ferocious will of magic tugging at him. The next second, he was hurling through broken glass, seeing nothing but red- choking on his own blood- then darkness.
xXx
Even from the distance, Voldemort could see Harry's eyes darken rapidly into a hard, cold black as he uttered the name of Harry's once- best friend. The air seemed to crackle with energy as Harry summoned all the magic he had; a magnificent roiling bolt of power.
Their eyes met for the briefest of moments before Harry's raw power was sent crashing into the Hogwarts wards with great force, creating a gaping hole as he weakened it greatly, at the same moment Draco Malfoy's broken body passed through the wards.
Draco tumbled into the ground, his figure stained with blood; the glass shards had managed to lodge itself into his neck. Already Lucius was rushing over to his son, all else forgotten; the next second both father and son had Disapparated from the battlefield.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed in barely concealed anger. "Have you quite finished playing Harry?"
The boy looked as though he was struggling to stand; the bolt of magic had taken quite a lot out of him. But he still managed the faint smirk, "No I haven't."
"You do realize you cannot save everyone."
This time, there was a pause before Harry replied, his eyes back to their normal green- "I do not need to. They already are."
Already the silvery parchment containing the names of the students was crumbling into nothing more but dust, the pulsing red bubble dissipating into air as though it had never been. Even the lights from the Great Hall had disappeared, plunging the battlefield into darkness but for the lingering Fiend Fyre.
The Hogwarts wards had been taken down.
Voldemort whirled around, his ruby red eyes dark with the intent of murder; Black and James Potter tried stepping forwards, but he simply banished them away with a surge of dark magic. Only Harry stood before him, preparing for the final battle. Only Harry. Because he was always the exception.
"I've been fighting you all my life," Harry was the first to speak, his quiet voice carrying easily over the battlefield; the fight between Death- Eaters and Aurors seemed to have reached a standstill. "I'm tired of it."
Between the dark vengeful abyss raging for blood, Voldemort felt a trickle of surprise; he did not expect this. "Yet you choose to," he said lightly, carefully masking any signs of anger or hatred.
"Just take the treaty," Harry said numbly. "I gave you my word, I will not leave your side."
"I have not come this far just to settle down with so little."
"How is almost half of the Wizarding World little?!" Harry snapped, his composure broken for once. "Even so, then what? What more do you want? Power? Or further torture to satisfy your sadistic hunger?!" he spat.
Voldemort's eyes had gone dark, once again reminding Harry of their similarities. But this time there was no reply; a flash of green light thundered out of his wand, aimed for Harry. The boy immediately retaliated with his own spell, dastardly fast even in his weakened condition.
But where Harry used to have the upper hand in raw magic, he no longer had that advantage; and Voldemort was eager to play that card. The next second, he sent his own raw magic thundering towards Harry, except that it wasn't bright and pulsing like Harry's... it was black and dark, crackling with energy.
The boy could barely dodge such a huge blast of energy; Harry could only hold out his wand and feebly push the last vestiges of his magic to dissipate the negative energy. There was a few seconds of strained battle, before the blue glow around Harry faded, and Harry's first ever wand splintered, just as the younger wizard was thrown backwards into the air by Voldemort's power.
He stepped forwards, his feet coming to a halt beside Harry's sprawled figure as he took careful aim. "Come on Harry, I haven't finished playing," he taunted. "Or do you need more motivation?"
Harry gritted his teeth in fury as Voldemort promptly summoned over James Potter, bashing the Auror carelessly onto the ground between them.
"It's fascinating how I trained you to be so strong, yet you break so easily," he mused, as Harry struggled to right himself. "Love, an emotion that clouds the wisest, weakening the strongest," he spat, turning his eyes onto the boy once more.
Harry threw away his broken wand his eyes lingering on the splintered wood for a second. "You will not harm him."
"Rest assured, I'll make it quick," Voldemort laughed, watching as Harry's eyes slowly darkened once more... the boy had barely enough power left, yet he was still pushing onto his magic relentlessly, all for those unworthy people he cared for. It fascinated him, to say the least, to watch Harry struggle to fight.
They were too close- Voldemort couldn't have missed; James Potter was still stirring feebly on the ground, his mutt Black was too far away to do anything.
"Avada Kedavra!"
In less than a second, Harry was standing before James, the jet of green light inches from his heart, another wand in hand-
"Expelliarmus!"
Both jets of light collided in a flurry of blinding golden sparks, weaving a dome of gold threads.
Phoenix feather. The wand he had given to Harry.
Priori Incantatem.
Harry felt himself being lifted off the ground, his new wand jerking and vibrating violently, yet he dared not let go. He looked up and to his surprise, saw a golden thread connecting both his and Voldemort's wands; the battlefield, once so eerie and silent, was now filled with the hauntingly beautiful melody of a phoenix's song.
Then figures began to emerge, ghostly figures taking the shape of people Harry had once known, some he had never met. The first few he recognised were Rosier Sr. and two more low- ranking Death- Eaters... then she appeared. Looking the same, as always. Dark hair flipped carelessly over her shoulders, her eyes searching, intent. Lips parted into a smirk- smile. Her gaze holding.
He stared at her for a while, transfixed, a pang of sadness resonating deep within him, searing.
"Harry" she spoke first, trying to near him, but he tore his gaze away from her.
"I'm sorry," he said tightly, looking away. Sorry that he was the one that caused her death. That he chose another path, one completely opposite to the one she wanted him to take. For sending her back to Voldemort to be killed ruthlessly, for his crime -
She said nothing more after that. Just stared at him, wordless, her eyes flashing with countless emotions even in her virtual form. And despite wishing she was back at Riddle Manor with him for the last few months... Harry had nothing else to say to her, either.
"I guess I'm his favourite now?" she managed to say with a suggestive laugh, even as Harry's wand vibrated even more vigorously.
Harry managed a small smile at that what felt like centuries- old petty argument. "I guess it's goodbye for now... Bella."
The word seemed foreign on his lips, rusty, but it didn't matter anymore- the next moment, Harry jerked back his wand roughly, and just as he expected, the golden threads splintered, the figures started to blur and fade away, just like the phoenix song.
What he didn't expect, was for the golden threads to reform into the previous spells cast by the wizards holding identical brother wands...- for his blinding red curse which was frozen to blaze back to life. For Voldemort's Killing Curse to reappear before him, aiming for his heart.
He didn't even bother to try to dodge. It was too close a proximity. He just fell back, feeling oddly relieved at the easiness of it all, and allowed darkness to claim him.
.
.
.
It felt as though he had spinning for ages. He saw hazy visions and dreams, swirling colours of people he knew, people he loved- all in a mixed jumble of reality and wishful thinking. But there was always a voice, one he seemed to miss badly yet he couldn't place- a soft voice urging him onwards, encouraging him to stand up again... a mother he hadn't seen for almost a year.
In some odd distinct way, he seemed to remember: the way she would ruffle his hair, knowing fully how it annoyed him. The way she would reprimand him, the way she enthusiastically laid out all kinds of dishes before him, the way her eyes lit up whenever he ate something she cooked; laughed at something she said. The way he always made her identical green eyes fill up with tears so easily; the way he would ignore it, telling himself it was all for the best.
He remembered Draco as well... odd broken dreams rushing back to him in full clarity. Draco horrified and sopping wet. Draco laughing, calling him names. Draco whining consistently about something insignificant. More often that not he saw that arrogant grin as his childhood friend faced him across the chessboard. The fear in his eyes when Draco regarded Lord Voldemort. How he had changed... the way his once best friend stood across him at the battle ring, taunting him- no longer merely brimful with confidence, but always second guessing, having deeper implications and intentions. A true Slytherin...
"You will return someday, won't you?" Damien's voice suddenly pleaded, ringing through the silence, and in a flash he was standing before the broken bloody form of his brother once more, Damien's fingers clutched feebly onto his robes.
...The boy's endless chatter. Pride soaring in him as he watched his younger brother fly around the pitch effortlessly, guiding his precious Nimbus 2000. Teaching him spells, watching him learn. Bicker over the silliest things.
"Yesterday was goodbye, wasn't it?"
"I don't want you to leave."
"Please come back."
It wasn't his choice either...
The door on the memories closed.
.
.
.
"Harry! Harry, no- please- wake up- "
Blearily, Harry came to once more, to find himself looking into familiar hazel eyes.
"Dad" he croaked faintly, blinking, before he struggled to stand, feeling oddly more energized than before.
Around them, the battle had continued; but only feeble number of Death- Eaters remained, the rest had either Disapparated on Voldemort's orders or defeated by the Aurors. Most fell by the Fiend fire.
"Harry, thank god you're alright," he said, half- laughing as he hugged his son. But Harry just stared, unseeing.
"Harry... let's go now- you must get back to Potter Manor, Lily is waiting-" James tried to say, desperation leaking into his voice.
At this, Harry's mind started to clear, and he sat up, brushing off his father.
"I need to end this," Harry interrupted, softly. They both knew this; but it still hurt when he saw James crumble, hope vanishing into nothing but pain.
"Harry... don't make me lose you again," James whispered, holding his son close for the last time. "This is the last thing I'll ever ask of you. Promise me that."
"If there ever is a day I could, I would return to Potter Manor. First thing," Harry assured, taking in every detail of his dad- he knew it would be the last time he would be seeing him... he just couldn't bring himself to tell. He was a coward after all. "Tell mum, Damy..." his voice choked a bit before he continued, "...I will never forget them. Never again."
Then he released James, forced himself to stand again, and walked down the path alone, to where Voldemort was standing, remembering his own words.
I have to end this.
It looked as though Voldemort had been greatly weakened by the ordeal. He brushed off the last of his followers and faced Harry once more. This time, he cast an orb around them both, cordoning off everyone else- Order members or Death- Eaters alike.
The first jet of green light still thundered out of Voldemort's wand, despite everything- and Harry countered it with the Disarming charm once more, though he broke off the connection quickly before golden threads could form again.
"It's over now," Harry said, his words loud over the wind. "You cannot win."
Voldemort laughed as he fired another killing curse, which Harry quickly rebuffed. "Surely you realise now, Harry... neither of us can."
Harry's eyes widened slightly at this. "Just as we agreed," Harry spoke. "It's a truce."
Silence seemed to fall at this, and both wizards continued exchanging attacks, but the constant casting of spells seemed to tire Harry greatly. He was still recovering from excessive use of magic. Every step he took felt like lead... he was no longer fast, no longer powerful. Just tired.
In the end, it was ironic how the duel ended similar to the one what felt like ages ago at Riddle Manor. Voldemort's wand came spinning to Harry's fingers, even as the Dark Lord blasted Harry off his feet using wandless magic.
Just that, Harry no longer caught both wands; he simply allowed them to slip from his slack fingers, watching through blurry vision as Voldemort came to stand before him once more.
"You can never defeat me, Harry," Voldemort said once more.
"You never won either," he managed to reply, despite everything.
There was silence for a long while; they were deaf to the yells outside the orb, deaf to James' cries, as Voldemort referred back to their previous conversation-
"That is why, I despise you."
A small jolt of surprise, then darkness.
.
.
.
A/N: Eeeek okay I don't know what you'll think of this. Sorry, I was in a real rush to put this up- I wanted to end this story already lol! Much as I love writing this, I'm tired of dragging it on... so... here's the second last chapter ... hee hee. Tell me what you think?
Final chapter/ epilogue coming next, hopefully it'll be soon! And if you don't get the last part, Voldemort was referring to the conversation before then, when he said love clouded the wisest of decisions and weakened the strongest.
Yeah well hope this chapter clears things up- I've rewritten the last chapter slightly by the way to make things clearer. Now time to tell me what you think? Come on, the story's almost ending, review will you? :P
Cheers!
Epsilon Scorpii