Every star in the sky disappeared as Harry looked around in confusion. The night had been warm, much too pleasant for war. Now, the temperature matched the mood better. Cold, full of despair.
Every sound vanished, and every light was distinguished. The only thing Harry could hear was the sound of his own breath ringing in his ears.
The darkness hurt his eyes, and no matter how much he strained them, he could make out nothing.
The world was black. He heard a low, rattling breath, and he stopped moving, stopped breathing altogether.
Now he knew what was the cause of this. He had heard stories from Death Eaters, who had once been captured. Now he knew how little their descriptions did Dementors justice. He had never been taught how to fight off a Dementor.
It was quite ironic, actually, that he would be killed by the one thing the Dark Lord never showed him how to fight off. Now, the rattling breath was drawing closer to him. He could feel its icy presence on his arms.
He knew what was going to happen, but there was nothing he could do about it. His feet were rooted to the spot. He couldn't move, couldn't do anything as the dead hand clamped around his wrist.
His heart ached with a pain greater than he had ever known as he was forced to relive all of his worst memories.
Around him, a light flashed, and Draco fell to the ground.
Dead.
There were two identical bursts of green light, and faceless people who he knew to be his parents fell before him.
Dead.
Everyone he had ever cared about.
Dead.
No, he had to fight it. Not everyone was dead, not yet. They were still fighting. But they would surely die.
No. He had to think. But how could he think when thinking meant death?No, thinking did not mean death.
Harry could feel the Dementor tracing its way up his arm, almost lovingly. He would not die like this! Everyone was counting on him to live. But what was life if everyone he loved was dead? No, not everyone.
They were still fighting. But who they were, Harry did not know.
He could picture their faces, but everything was slipping away as the Dementor neared his face.
Well, he thought as the Dementor hovered right over his mouth, this is not a terrible way to go, all things considered.
Suddenly, light flashed all around him, blinding him for a moment. When he looked up he saw the Dementor gliding away as it was chased by a hare and a fox.
Harry seemed to unfreeze as the world snapped back into place around him. He turned and saw Luna and Seamus, their wands pointed at the retreating Dementor.
"Harry, are you okay?" Luna asked, grasping his shoulder. Seamus was standing as a sort of guard, making sure no one tried to approach them while they were distracted.
"Y-Yes. Thank you." Harry said, a bit shakily.
"Of course," She smiled, "I was surprised you didn't know how to cast the Patronus charm."
"Death Eaters aren't really ones to call on givers of light."
"I can see how that might be," Luna said.
"How did you know I was there?" Harry asked, looking down at his once-invisible body.
"Were we not supposed to?" Luna asked curiously.
"No, no, never mind," Harry said quickly. "I have to go, but thank you so much, both of you." He nodded to Seamus, who smiled slightly.
"Stay safe, okay?" Harry said, turning to Luna.
"Same to you." She said. Harry watched as she and Seamus walked calmly into the thickest part of the fighting.
He turned and started to run in the opposite direction again. His ankle felt like it was being twisted further out of place the more he used it, but he knew now was no time to stop. He had to get to the Whomping Willow.
He didn't bother to become invisible again. It was not like it had worked very well for him the last two times he tried. He weaved through trees and people as he ran, pointing his wand at any available enemy.
All around him, people were fighting. Flashes of red and green danced on the grass as people fell.
Then, Harry looked up, and his eyes fell on a woman with tangled black hair and a slightly mad look in her eye. Bella was having much too much fun.
She was fighting a small group of boys. Harry could see they were reasonably good fighters, but they had no chance against her. Sure enough, Bellatrix sent four spells flying at them, one after the other, and each boy fell dead.
A rush of deepest loathing took over Harry. He wanted so desperately to charge at her. He wouldn't even need his wand. He would take her on with his hands if he had to.
He just wanted to make her feel a little portion of the pain she had caused him. He wanted to grab her and break her. He wanted her to regret every choice she had ever made.
But, just as he was about to run towards her, something else caught his eye. He could see it, the Whomping Willow, its branches cracking like whips.
And now, Harry had a choice to make. He could go and fight with Bella right now. She was the woman who had lied to him for years. She had been the one who had trained him, the one who had tortured him as was a woman who laughed at the idea of murder.
Or, he could run in the opposite direction, towards the Whomping Willow, towards Voldemort. He was the one who had kidnapped Harry in the first place. He was the one who had killed his parents.
He was the reason for all of this. Every death, every terrible thing, ultimately led back to him. Voldemort was to blame for this current condition. Voldemort, who had made those terrible Horcruxes. Voldemort, who had cursed him as a child. Voldemort was to blame for every death, including his parents.
Including Draco.
Harry made up his mind. Bella would have to wait for now. He had to go after Voldemort first, then he could deal with her.
He took off in the opposite direction, wanting with every step to turn back, but he didn't. He would get to fight, just not now.
He needed to go to Voldemort to get to the snake. The snake was the last thing standing in the way of Voldemort's death. Once the snake was gone, he would be free to destroy Voldemort. The snake was the final obstacle, the last thing that stood in Harry's way.
Harry rolled out of the way as a dozen spells flew at him. It seemed the Death Eaters had finally realized who he was. Harry fired spell after spell over his shoulder, making a slow path towards the Willow.
He was so close to his goal; he just needed to get there without being killed. He changed directions, not wanting to make it clear that he was trying to go somewhere in particular.
Then, he sent red sparks blasting into the air, causing a blinding flash for a few moments. But a few moments were all Harry needed. He quickly pointed his wand at his chest and turned himself invisible once again.
Harry did not even pause to think. Instead, he bolted up the hill and towards the tree. The Death Eaters seemed to guess where he was, though, because spells still came flying at him, the ground bursting apart at his feet.
He dove behind a large tree and stopped for a moment. He sank to the ground as he caught his breath. His ankle throbbed worse than ever, but he was so close.
He only had to fight a little more and run a little longer, and then he would reach the safety of the tree with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Though, they were going to be traveling along an underground tunnel to a house Voldemort was staying in, so he was not sure if that really constituted safety. Covered would be a better word.
Harry closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and assessed his injuries so far. His ankle was obviously the worst right now, but he could do nothing about that till he reached the tree.
He was still slightly dizzy from when his scar had hurt, and he was shaky from the Dementor. Not to mention all of the cuts and bruises he had obtained over the course of the fight. On top of everything else, his heart was aching worse than before.
The Dementor had opened everything up again. He pushed Draco down, out of his mind. He could not think about him now. He had much more important things to do.
Just like with Bella, he had to stay focused on his goal. Right now, his goal was to get to the Willow without being killed, and it seemed like that was the hardest one yet.
Even going after the Horcruxes had been less perilous than this. At that thought, Harry laughed to himself. He would rather go after parts of Voldemort's soul than run up a hill to a tree. He was pathetic.
He stood up and peered out from his hiding spot. All around him, the battle was in full swing. The ground was cracked and crumbling as people all around him dodged spells and curses. Every once in a while, the sky would seemingly open up as a hand shot down from the darkness, adding to the destruction.
Harry noticed two figures crouching behind a tree slightly in front of him.
"The rat is right over there." Sirius spat, looking in disgust at something Harry was unable to see.
"Let's get him. Together." Remus said, his wand gripped tightly in his hand.
"For James." Sirius agreed. At once, the two men charged off into the night, reviling in the vengeance that they had craved for years.
Harry turned away from them and waited. He finally saw his chance. The path to the Willow was completely clear. He took off running back into the chaos.
As much as it pained him, he didn't send any spells flying at Death Eaters. He was so close to his goal. He couldn't lose it this time. He had to keep running, keep his eyes glued on his prize. He would not allow himself to become distracted once more.
He bolted towards the tree, twenty feet, then ten. Finally, he was five feet away, so close he could almost touch the bark— A branch came whipping at him from out of nowhere, knocking him onto his back and fulfilling it's name.
Apparently, the tree could sense when someone was there, even if they were invisible.
Another branch cracked the ground directly to his right. Then another one to his left. He quickly jumped up and dodged around the branches.
He pointed his wand desperately at the tree, trying to freeze it. However, the blue light seemed to have no effect on the tree. If anything, it seemed more irritated by Harry's feeble attempt.
He ran back far enough to where the tree could not reach him, and he walked around it, trying to find the hole Ron had talked about. And then he saw it, right among the roots. But how could he get to it? The tree's branches were whipping around like a tornado.
Completely out of ideas, Harry decided to run towards the hole as fast as he could. Again, a branch flew into him, knocking all of the air out of him. He backed up as best he could, but it was no good.
He was about to be crushed by a tree. He stumbled to his feet as a few branches banded together, clearly intent on killing him.
And then, it stopped.
Harry backed up, not sure whether this was some sort of trick or not. Then, to his relief, he saw Ron poke his head out of the roots, his wand at the ready. Harry cautiously took a step forward, and the tree remained completely still.
"It's just me." Harry called to Ron, though he was unsure if Ron could hear him over all of the fighting going on at the base of the hill.
He took another cautious step and then, throwing all care to the wind, decided to make a break for it. He ran at the tree, his head ducked, ready for another attack, but none ever came. He skidded onto his knees and crawled head-first into the hole, pushing Ron out of the way.
"It's me," He said again. "Let's go."
Harry made sure Ron was following him before heading down the tunnel. It was darker here than it was above ground; the passageway only lit with a few touches.
Still, they were safe, for now.