The once lively halls of Hogwarts now stood eerily silent and abandoned. No students lingered in clusters, eagerly discussing the latest wizarding news. No ghosts floated through the corridors, their transparent forms fading into the walls. Even Mrs. Norris, the notorious caretaker's cat, was nowhere to be seen, leaving the empty halls void of any life or movement. The grand structure seemed to hold its breath as if holding it for the blow to come.
In the Headmaster's office, an unlikely group of allies stood facing each other in tense silence. On one side, members of the Order of the Phoenix, representatives of the Light Side. On the other, Death Eaters, followers of the Dark Lord Voldemort. They had been forced to put aside their differences and join forces, or else face certain annihilation at the hands of their common enemy.
On one side of the room stood Voldemort, his red eyes blazing with anger and malice. On the other side sat Dumbledore, his signature twinkle gone from his blue eyes, replaced by defeat.
Voldemort and Dumbledore finally sat down at opposite ends of the large wooden desk, their gazes locked in a battle of wills. The room was charged with tension and fear, both sides knowing that this meeting could determine the fate of the wizarding world.
"How has it come to this?" Dumbledore's voice was heavy with defeat as he looked at his former student-turned-Dark Lord.
"You broke your champion," Voldemort sneered, his red eyes glinting with malice. "Your chosen one has betrayed you and is now causing problems for all of us." His lip curled in disgust at the mention of Harry Potter, once a symbol of hope for the Light Side but now a traitor in their eyes.
Old grudges and past battles simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to erupt at any moment. But for now, they would have to put their differences aside and focus on the task at hand: survival. The steady tick of the clock on Dumbledore's desk seemed to mock them, counting down the precious moments they had left to plan for a proper and efficient defense.
Harry Potter had warned them that he would come.
Potter's warning was delivered through an unexpected messenger - his once silvery-blue stag patronus now transformed into a vulture. Its feathers were an intriguing blend of black and violet, reminiscent of fresh bruises on skin. The regal bird appeared before both Voldemort and Dumbledore, their reactions mirroring each other as they searched for the source of the powerful magic. And then, Harry's voice rang out from the darkness, calm and almost amused, as he spoke his foreboding message. It was a warning to them - to prepare for his arrival and the inevitable confrontation that would follow.
Arrogant. Severus had spat, breaking the stunned silence.
Yes, the boy was arrogant, but with how quickly both the Dark and Light had crumbled under Potter's attacks over the last month, it was not unwarranted.
The room fell silent as someone from the Order spoke up, their voice trembling with fear. "What kind of army will he bring with him?" they asked, eyes wide with worry.
Voldemort let out a derisive snort, causing all eyes to snap towards him. "He hasn't needed an army to destroy and defile our ranks for the past six weeks. What makes you think he'll use one now?"
Lucius Malfoy, standing behind Voldemort, let out a shaky breath at his master's words. "That would be suicide…"
Dumbledore's usually calm expression twisted into one of concern as he came to the same realization as Voldemort.
But it was Hermione Granger who stepped forward, her bushy hair seeming to bristle with determination. "Harry hasn't faced both sides at once, but he has never struggled against fighting either side," she said boldly. "No one has been able to land a blow on him since his return. He's been testing his limitations and has found himself unchallenged. I know… knew Harry and I know he's been testing his limits. If we can't stop him, I fear what will happen."
"Then we best start planning our defense," Dumbledore said gravely and they got to work.
As the sun began to set over the Hogwarts grounds, Harry Potter arrived at the imposing gates of his alma mater. No longer flanked by friends or allies, he stood alone, draped in a long, black cloak that billowed slightly in the gentle breeze.
Both the Order and the Death Eaters awaited his arrival, scattered throughout the school grounds and castle, their eyes fixed on the lone figure standing at the edge of the protective wards. To an outsider, the army gathered before one man may have seemed like overkill. But for those who had witnessed the destruction caused by the Chosen One over the past few weeks, it didn't feel like nearly enough.
In front of the grand entrance of Hogwarts stood Dumbledore, his silver beard gleaming in the dying sunlight as he stepped forward and cast a powerful sonorous charm. "Harry, my dear boy," he called out with a tone of pleading in his voice. "Please surrender now. This has gone on long enough. It is time to lay down your wand."
Beside Dumbledore stood Voldemort, his features twisted into a sneer as he watched with disdain as the old man attempted to pacify the beast before them. To Voldemort, this was no longer Harry Potter standing before them. He had died and been replaced by a demon now living inside the husk of the boy they had known, willing to do whatever it took to achieve his goals.
Harry didn't respond. Didn't move. Harry's eyes remained fixated on the long, winding path that led towards Hogwarts, his expression unreadable at the distance he was at. The black iron gates loomed before him, almost daring him to take a step forward. His lack of response sent ripples of unease through those gathered on the grounds.
Then the wards around Hogwarts shuddered.
The wards surrounding Hogwarts were ancient.
These wards had been reinforced by some of the most powerful wizards, including most recently both Dumbledore and Voldemort. They were meant to provide protection for at least a full day against any potential attack from Harry if he decided to actually bring an army with him. If it was just Harry it should have given them almost a week of protection.
But the wards trembled.
Then, with a deafening crack, the wards shattered into countless fragments, like a mirror struck by lightning, a thunderous explosion that shook the very ground beneath their feet. The sound echoed through the air, causing many to scream in terror at the sudden loss of protection.
"Wands at the ready!" The command was barked out by someone up on the battlement, a desperate attempt to regain control and focus everyone on the enemy at hand.
The sun's descent cast long shadows across the grounds, a foreboding sign of the looming darkness that could prove deadly against their single opponent. As the last rays of sunlight disappeared, a sinister smile spread across Harry's face. With a loud bang, the gates swung open, removing the last barrier between them and Harry.
Harry's voice carried across the grounds with ease even if no one saw him cast a sonorous. "I won't show you any mercy. Surrendering your wand will not spare your life." Then, in a blur of movement, Harry vanished from sight and the screams began.
Dumbledore and Voldemort retreated into the castle, hastily fortifying their defenses and preparing for a bloody battle. They had not anticipated having to use them so soon, but now with the wards having fallen so easily, it left them no choice.
The night sky above Hogwarts was illuminated by flickers of spellfire, casting an eerie glow over the grounds. In the chaos, bodies fell one by one to the ground, lifeless and unmoving. The once peaceful castle was now a battleground, with Order members and Death Eaters dropping like flies, their blood creating a river of red on the grass.
Inside the castle, hesitation reigned among those who could not bring themselves to cast curses at an enemy they couldn't even see, for fear of accidentally hitting their own wounded allies. Harry Potter had become a ghostly figure, a phantom haunting the battlefield and leaving destruction in his wake. They were dying too quickly to even consider retreating.
Dumbledore paced back and forth in front of the great hall, his face etched with worry as the sounds of their friends and former enemies dying beyond the stone walls seemed to echo around them.
"What do we do sir?" Ron Weasley's voice shook as he broke the tense silence, seeking guidance from their leader on what to do next. But in the midst of all this chaos and death, there seemed to be no clear path forward for them.
Tears streamed down Hermione's face as she choked out the words, "How could he do this...?" How had their best friend, who they had fought alongside and trusted with their lives, turned into this monstrous being?
It had all started the summer before their sixth year at Hogwarts. Harry had disappeared without a trace, leaving everyone wondering what had become of him. Some feared he was dead, while others held onto hope that he was still alive. And then, just a week after they should have graduated together, he reappeared in a blaze of glory. With incredible power and skill, he struck down and killed a large horde of Death Eaters who had attacked Diagon Alley.
At first, they thought their savior had returned, stronger than ever. But their hopes were quickly shattered when Harry turned on both Aurors and members of the Order who had arrived to help. In a fit of rage and violence, he slaughtered them all without hesitation.
Since that day, Harry Potter has been on a rampage, destroying anyone who dared to stand against him. Friends, foes - it didn't seem to matter to him anymore. No one knew his end goal, or even if he had one. All they knew was that their once-heroic friend had become an unstoppable force of destruction.
A weapon of their own making.
An alarm, a piercing wail that chilled the blood, shattered the tense silence. It was one of the emergency signals they had planned for but hoped would never have to be used. Someone from above must have triggered it, indicating that their troops out on the grounds were now all dead and Harry's path of destruction was now barreling towards them.
"We must unleash everything we have at him," Voldemort snarled, his face twisted into a mask of fury. "Hold nothing back, show no mercy. He certainly won't give us any."
"I have to agree." Dumbledore's expression was mournful, knowing that there would be no chance of taking Harry alive now.
Just then, a Death Eater burst into the room, blood covering one side of his face and his once-pristine black robes now torn and tattered. "Potter has taken our wands!" he shouted in anguish.
All eyes in the great hall turned to stare at the bloodied man in disbelief.
The Death Eater continued to stutter, his voice shaking with fear and panic as the castle trembled beneath them. The sound of explosions shook the air and it felt like the very foundations of the castle were being blasted apart. "We can't see him! He has vanished into the darkness. Bodies are falling from the battlements now. He stole all of our wands right out of our hands!" The man's hysteria was palpable, spreading throughout the room like wildfire.
Dumbledore looked to Voldemort. "You'll have to be the one that kills him. We can still win this. The Prophecy-"
The grand chandeliers and candles in the great hall flickered ominously, casting dim shadows on the walls and floor. The threat of complete darkness lingered in the air, only held at bay by the reluctant glow of the lights.
Suddenly, a deep, dark chuckle rolled through the room, causing shivers to run down everyone's spine. All eyes darted around, searching for the source of the menacing sound.
"You think the Prophecy will save you? You don't even know what it truly means." Harry's voice echoed through the hall, but his figure remained invisible to them all. Each person stood frozen in terror, their eyes darting around desperately.
And then, a voice whispered directly into Dumbledore's ear. "That Prophecy is mine. It is about me. Mine to fulfill... or destroy." And with those words, a gaping hole appeared in Dumbledore's chest, his heart ripped out ruthlessly by a now-visible Harry Potter standing behind him. The shocked gasps and cries from the crowd were drowned out by the sickening sound of flesh tearing apart, leaving a gory scene in its wake.
The scrawny teenage boy they once knew was now a towering man, his body toned and well-fed. Magic radiated off of him in waves, pulsing with a raw power that demanded respect. His hair was neatly trimmed and styled with precision, despite being splattered with blood it somehow still looked immaculate, and was as dark as the night sky. The glasses that once hid his eyes were gone, revealing an unsettlingly bright green gaze that seemed to emit the same deadly aura as Avada Kedavra itself. It was as cold and empty as Voldemort himself.
Before them stood a dangerous wizard… and no escape.
With a thud that echoed through the dead silent room, Dumbledore's lifeless body fell to the ground. Harry's intense gaze then turned to Voldemort, still holding onto Dumbledore's bloody heart in his hand.
"So what will it be Voldemort?" Harry asked softly. "A duel … or Will You Bow To Death Tom?"
The boy was mocking him, mocking Lord Voldemort. With no choice left, Voldemort drew his wand to face his rival in this final confrontation.
"I will be your end, Potter." Voldemort spat, his yew wand gripped tightly in his hand.
A cold chuckle escaped Harry's lips, the sound echoing through the Great Hall. "You are only my beginning."
Voldemort fired off spells with reckless abandon, not even allowing Harry to get into a dueling stance. But it didn't seem to matter. With deadly grace, Harry dodged and weaved through the spellwork, closing in on Voldemort without hesitation.
Harry didn't cast any spells of his own, he didn't even have his wand drawn. He simply ran towards Voldemort with a determined expression on his face. The Dark Lord's spells seemed to not affect him; he seemed to effortlessly avoid them as he closed the distance between them.
And then, with a swift movement, Harry's hand wrapped around Voldemort's wand – still glowing green from the latest Avada Kedavra that had been thrown – and snapped it in half. The look of disbelief on Voldemort's face was almost comical if it weren't for the gravity of the situation.
But before Voldemort could react or attempt to retreat, Harry grabbed him by the throat with one hand and held him in place.
His voice was sickly sweet as he spoke: "Tell Death hello from me, Tom." And with that, he set the Dark Lord ablaze from the inside out.
The witnesses still alive in the Great Hall watched in horror as Harry killed not only Dumbledore with his bare hands but also burned the Dark Lord alive. In a matter of moments, both powerful wizards were reduced to nothing more than ashes and memories. In mere minutes, both leaders were destroyed, leaving behind an eerie silence that hung heavily in the air.
And as Harry turned to look at them all, blood and ash on his face, and they could only tremble.
No one would be getting out of Hogwarts alive.