"HAGGER!"
Grawp's booming voice enveloped the air, as he stumbled onto the battlefield, but was quickly cut short by Voldemort's giants as roared and charged at him, the Earth quaking in their wake. The sound of hundreds of pounding hooves came charging, the centaur's unleashing their battle cries, and arrows aimed at the surprised Death Eaters. Everybody was trying to regain their feet.
Lyla covered her ears, running inside of the castle, dodging spells inches from her face, but not specifically aimed at her. She was met with hundreds of house-elves, bursting out through a door, screaming and holding carving knives and cleavers. One house-elf at the front, leading the charge with a golden locket dangling against his chest screamed, "Fight! Fight! For my master, defender of house-elves. Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!"
Lyla smiled at the scene, only to find herself facing a cackling figure, the smile dropping.
Bellatrix sneered at Lyla, and Lyla could see the fury in her hollow eyes. Fury at her.
"You?" Her voice was dark and deadly. "The Dark Lord's daughter? A scrawny thing like you?"
"What were you expecting? A turnip?" Lyla counted back. "Or did you want to be the mother of his child?"
"How dare you!" Bellatrix shouted, a spell escaping her wand, Lyla just managing to dodge out of the way. "I serve the Dark Lord however he may wish!"
"Yep," Lyla said, "As his-"
"Avada Kedavra!" Bellatrix screamed, only to miss Lyla and nearly hit Ginny Weasley, behind her.
"NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH!"
Molly Weasley came storming through the crowds of people, with a look of determination that would make anybody faint in sheer fear.
"OUT OF MY WAY!" She shouted at Lyla and Ginny, both girls taking an approved distance away. Before Mrs Weasley fired at spell at Bellatrix.
They duelled, each woman to kill, the air becoming thick with the spells they cast. It cackled, the magic making Lyla's head spin. Others came forward, students, trying to help Mrs Weasley. But she wouldn't have it.
"No! Get back! Get back! She is mine!" she shouted.
The magic grew hotter, making Lyla feel she was in an oven. People started to line the halls, watching two fights happen: Bellatrix and Molly, and Voldemort and his three opponents. All eyes were on them.
"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" Bellatrix taunted. Dancing between spells thrown. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"
"You – will – never – touch – our – children – again!" Mrs Weasley screamed.
Bellatrix only laughed, completely blind to her fate. For Lyla knew what was to happen next. And unlike Sirius's death, no guilt threatened to take over. The woman deserved it.
Mrs Weasley's curse flew through the air, hitting Bellatrix in the chest. There was a moment when Bellatrix's eyes became the size of saucers as the realisation of what happened stuck her. There was roar from the crowd, Voldemort screaming as she hit the floor with an almost silent thud.
In fury, Voldemort directed his wand at Molly Weasley ready to annihilate her. Only to be reflected by a shield charm that spread across the hall. Confusion spread across the watching crowd, Voldemort especially, as he searched for the caster.
That was when Harry pulled off his invisibility cloak.
Gasps and roars erupted from the crowd as they realised who it was. "Harry!" "HE'S ALIVE!" was all stifled at once, as people stared at him in wonder, and fear.
Instantly Voldemort and Harry circled one another, each calm, not showing their true emotions.
"I don't what anyone else to try to help me." Harry said, his voice cutting through the silence of the hall. All ears turned his way. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."
"Potter doesn't mean that,' Voldemort said, hissing. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"
"Nobody," Harry said simply. "There are no more horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good…"
"One of us?" Voldemort jeered. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"
"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save you?" Harry asked. "Accident when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again? Accident, that Jean and you had a daughter, a daughter that was not fit to serve you?" Harry only looked Voldemort squarely in the eye. "Because that was what it was, in beginning, you chose Jean because of her seer abilities, didn't you? And then you dispensed her, turning one of your most loyal Death Eaters into junk."
"Accidents!" Voldemort hissed, his spine bending, his wand twitching. "Jean was no accident – no longer useful, seeing as she failed to give me a proper heir. Giving me a daughter, nothing more. Worthless, then she had to only take the child out of my grasp before I had a chance to dispose of it myself! But it was no accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and snivelled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"
"That's because she saw." Harry said, clearly unaffected by Voldemort's insults. "Jean saw who you really were, and took it upon herself to do something about it. Even though it left her heartbroken…" Harry paused, once again meeting Voldemort's snake-like eyes, but this time he had no fear. "Nothing matter's anyway. You won't be killing anyone else tonight. You won't be able to kill any of them, ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you hurting these people-"
"But you did not!"
"-I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"
"You dare-"
"Yes, I dare," Harry said, "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"
Voldemort didn't answer, only continuing their mesmerising circle. Lyla knew it was because he was afraid- afraid the boy-who-lived did know some other big secret…
"Is it love again?" Voldemort said. "Dumbledore's favourite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the Tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which he did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter –and nobody seems to love you enough to run forwards this time, and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"
"Just one thing," Harry said. Lyla could see the flaws in her father's words. For wasn't love that saved her? Love from ones mother? Harry's saved him, by sacrifice. So did Lyla's…but a different outcome commenced. One died…but the other lived another fate.
"If it is not love that will save you this time," Voldemort said, "you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"
"I believe both," Harry said.
Shock covered Voldemort's face, only to disappear and to become a mask, again. But it was still noticed, and Lyla still felt a grin slide onto her features, but then he laughed, a laugh that echoed around the hall, bouncing back and forth. It was insane.
"You think you know more magic than I do?" he said. "Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has preformed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"
"Oh, he dreamed of it," Harry said, "but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."
"You mean he was weak!" Voldemort screamed. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"
"No, he was cleverer than you," Harry said, "a better wizard, a better man."
"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"
"You thought you did, but you were wrong."
The gathering of enemies and allies, seemed to spark into life, stirring, as hundreds drew a breath as one.
"Dumbledore is dead!" Voldemort's words counted back, hurled Harry's way as through to cause pain unbearable pain. "His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"
"Yes, Dumbledore's dead," Harry said calmly, "but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."
"What childish dream is this?"
"Severus Snape wasn't yours," Harry said, ignoring Voldemort's outburst. "Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realised it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you Riddle?"
No answer was heard, instead the circling continued, both out-of-tune with the rest of the hall.
"Snape's Patronus was a doe," Harry said, "the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realised, he asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"
"He desired her, that was all," Voldemort sneered, "but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him-"
"Of course he told you that," Harry said, "but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"
"It matters not!" Voldemort shrieked, now cackling with laughter. "It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and ways that you do not understand!
"Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy – I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"
"Yeah it did," Harry said. "You're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done…think, and try for some remorse, Riddle…"
"What is this?"
Voldemort sort to cover up his fear, by confusion, but Lyla knew Harry could tell. Tell how much his words shocked him. Lyla knew…it was only a matter of time…
"It's your one last chance," Harry said, "it's all you've got left…I've seen what you'll be otherwise…be a man…try…try for some remorse…"
"You dare-?"
"Yes, I dare," Harry said, cutting off Voldemort's words, "because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you Riddle.
"That wand still isn't working properly for you, because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."
"He killed-"
"Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"
"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!" Voldemort's voice shook with malicious pleasure. "I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"
"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard… the Elder wand recognised a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realising exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him it's allegiance…"
Harry paused. His eyes once again stared calmly into Voldemort's own red, slits. Then he spoke.
"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."
Once again Voldemort's faced contorted into shock, and like before, disappeared replaced with his confident words. For he was sure it did not matter. It was only an obstacle in his path, and it will be dealt with.
How wrong he was. And that made Lyla smile.
"But what does it matter," Voldemort said, softly. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: we duel on skill alone…and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy…"
"But your too late," Harry said. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him."
All eyes turned to the wand in his hand, Lyla's smile only growing wider.
"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" Harry whispered. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does… I am the true master of the Elder Wand."
It was the last straw. Both wands rose simultaneously pointing directly to the other's heart. Their voices were the only ones that spoke, in a silence that was their own.
"Avada kedavra!"
"Expelliarmus!"
They all watched as the spells collided. They watched the Elder Wand fling itself into Harry awaiting hands - it's true master. They watched Voldemort's own spell reflect back in to him. They watched him fall, hitting the ground.
And never again would he move.
Never again.
And Lyla's smile was the brightest of them all.
Another chapter finished, yay!
So reason for such a long wait was the fact this chapter got accidentally deleted. Then I had exams -which always cause the worse havoc- and it seems to have taken me a while to get back into the swing of things.
Enjoy the chapter, the next one will be sometime in the future (Don't ask me when I have no idea).