"I'm a what‽" the skinny boy asked him incredulously from the far corner of a dark cabin.
"Yer a wizard, Harry." The hulking, bearded man replied. "And a right good 'un too, I'd wager."
A stunned smile broke through the fear on the young boy's face.
The smile on that little tyke sent Hagrid into a flurry of emotion. Happiness that the boy was leaving these terrible muggles, sadness at his apparent mistreatment in the time since they'd last met - the night his parent's had been killed… And no small quantity of rage at the horrible people that had not cared well for the small boy over the last decade.
A smile so innocent.
So hopeful and bright.
"CRUCCCCCIO!" Voldemort hissed loudly, drawing out the spell with a childlike laugh that seemed totally out of place.
Hagrid was immediately snapped back from his thoughts of better days as his torment began anew.
He took a gasping breath and opened his eyes, immediately regretting that last decision. A short distance ahead of him he saw that same, formerly hopeful face of the young man he'd once had the pleasure to introduce to the world of magic. But now the hopeful smile was gone. The face was a few years older, more than a few years further worn. It was slack and staring without focus in a blessedly peaceful death mask.
It wasn't clear how long he'd been unconscious, or why he'd been unconscious, but he wished he still was.
The sun was high in the sky.
That madman had murdered Harry in cold blood, and defenseless at that. It was nearly unthinkable, but he'd seen it with his own eyes, and the dull green ones staring lifelessly toward him were all the confirmation Hagrid needed to see that this fight was over.
Vague memories tugged at the edges of his consciousness. When the curse hit Harry, Hagrid had flown into a rage. Three black-hooded, crumpled corpses nestled in the tree line flashed in his memory. He could still feel one of their bodies crumple against his elbow as he came unhinged.
That was right before no fewer than 15 various curses and stunners hit him at once.
Right… That's why he had been unconscious.
"Enough rest for you, half breed." Voldemort spat as he prodded Hagrid with his wand. "On your feet, you great oaf."
Hagrid staggered slightly as he pulled himself up to his full height.
"We've got places to be. Pick him up." Voldemort said coldly from beside the half-giant.
He knew there was no use fighting anymore. Harry, The Chosen One, their one shot at victory, was dead and gone - and any spark of hope they'd win the fight was lost with the light in his eyes. The Death Eaters knew it too, and at Voldemort's command he was released from his bindings, though still held at wand point.
Wiping huge tears from his eyes, he paced over to Harry's body, and picked him up gingerly, like a caring father carefully attempting to transfer a sleeping toddler from a couch to a bed without waking them.
Upon closer viewing of Harry's body, it became apparent that while Hagrid was unconscious, these monsters he was being escorted by hadn't been content to simply kill the boy. It seemed they'd deemed it necessary to fling him around a bit and Merlin only knew what else. His body was wracked with horrible black bruises and cuts of all sizes and depths.
His head lolled freely, and the arm not pressed into Hagrid's body flopped loosely down at the shoulder. It looked unnatural. Shifting and jostling slightly, he was able to get Harry situated in a way that looked almost comfortable, were it not for the lack of life in his face.
—X—X—X—
A horrible, brief hike through the woods led Hagrid and a somehow slowly growing group of Death Eaters and their sympathizers to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. When the castle came into view, a series of barely stifled sobs escaped the man as he held Harry's body carefully and he slowed to a halt.
The sound, as always, was met with a few dispersed stunners and other various torments. Being a half-giant, Hagrid had some limited resistance to a few of the more common offensive magics. He could take a couple with just a painful stabbing sensation, but earlier he'd been overwhelmed and knocked out for hours.
Once again, he continued walking. The young man cradled in his arms barely registered as having any weight at all to him.
As they approached the main courtyard, it became apparent that a large crowd was waiting for their arrival. The great snake that accompanied Voldemort was moving in close coordination with him, never more than a pace away.
Blimey 'Arry, I'm so sorry… Sorry I couldn't stop 'em and help yeh… Sorry I brought ye here in the first place… I never wanted any of this for ye. Hagrid thought to himself, as they covered the last hundred or so meters before entering the courtyard. Looking at Harry he could remember many evenings enjoying a warm cuppa with the boy and his two closest friends before curfew fell on the castle.
The movement of the crowd slowed noticeably as the sea of black cloaks approached the castle courtyard.
Crossing through the gate with a triumphant sneer, Voldemort waited for his inner circle to line up flanking him, then motioned to Hagrid, a few paces behind him to stop.
"Harry." Hermione said numbly and loud enough to draw some attention from her spot at the top of the stone steps. She moved forward a few paces before becoming unnaturally still at the sight of Harry's limp form in Hagrid's arms before her.
Parvati and Ron were flanking her and helped keep her steady as a strange and distant look came over her face. She had known what was coming, and she had prepared her best for it, but seeing him lifeless like that… It was a sight she'd never get out of her head. She was filing that image away in a strongbox in her mind to be properly devastated over later, knowing it would remain fresh forever. She couldn't let anything she might be feeling at the moment stand in the way of finishing what Harry had started earlier this morning.
A whirlwind of questioning and startled looks began to flow around the gathered teens at her declaration, but before it could rise any further, Voldemort put The Elder Wand to his throat and amplified his voice.
"Harry Potter… Is dead!" He announced triumphantly to the assembled students.
Shocked gasps and cries filled the courtyard.
"SILENCE!" he shouted, and the crowd acquiesced into an unsteady state of shock at news of the loss of The Chosen One. "Your war, your deluded conflict, your paltry efforts to resist my might… Have failed."
"Set the body here, at my feet, oaf, in his rightful place…" Voldemort seethed gesturing grandly at the roughhewn stone of the courtyard at his feet.
Hagrid, still weeping silently as he carefully held Harry's limp body, took the few paces needed and gently laid Harry's body on the ground as commanded, even taking a moment to carefully straighten his glasses on his face when he did.
If looks could kill, Mr. Riddle would have ceased to exist in that moment.
"Your hero," He kicked Harry's limp form firmly in the ribs with a hiss, "is no more… From now on, you put your faith, in me." Nagini coiled herself tightly, perhaps a yard from Voldemort, opposite Harry's body.
As a second blow landed on his ribs, Hermione felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and her magic crackled audibly around her for a moment as her eyes fell closed. Ron and Parvati noticed the scent of ozone fill their nostrils and shot her a nervous look as she worked to keep her focus under control. They recognized the obvious signs of her losing control of her magic but trusted her to keep it in check.
"So. Which of you will take on the honor, the privilege, of being the first to defect to the side of the victors?" Voldemort asked with a smile as he rested his foot on the unmoving chest of the body at his feet.
Draco Malfoy tentatively stepped forward. His parents, standing beyond Voldemort waved him over toward them. Voldemort smiled broadly and nodded to him as he passed.
A breathless moment passed. Eyes darted around, and nobody else wanted to move.
—X—X—X—
"None of you?" Voldemort's voice was ice in the air. "None wish to end this… unpleasantness… without further mayhem? You are terrifically outnumbered. Your 'Chosen… One…'" he landed a stomp onto Harry's lifeless body with each word, "is dead under my feet in accordance with the prophecy. Accept my mercies and join our ranks. You stand no chance of fighting. My power knows no bounds."
A few moments passed.
"…Very wel-"
"It doesn't matter." Neville called firmly from the crowd.
Voldemort turned his gaze to look at the boy.
"And who is this, speaking over me, in the face of my victory? So… Perilously direct." Voldemort asked.
"My name is Neville Longbottom, and you're not the victors. You never will be." Neville said, limping slightly as he moved forward in the crowd. Everyone in front of the castle was shocked at his gall. Everyone, except for a dozen or so of his closest friends in the castle, the remaining members of Dumbledore's Army.
While everyone in the courtyard was watching Neville draw closer to Voldemort, either seething in anger and disbelief or staring on in horror as the boy remained defiant in the face of the most powerful dark wizard in decades, the remaining members of the DA were slowly dispersing themselves evenly around the courtyard. Placing themselves where they could make an impact with the least risk of getting an ally caught in a crossfire, just like Harry had taught them.
Voldemort sneered at the boy "Even his presumed ally, a friend I might even safely assume, cares so little of this piece of filth." He laughed as he ground his foot on Harry's lifeless chest.
"It's not that at all…" Neville replied sincerely. "Harry… Harry was the best of us… Even when we weren't the best to him. So many times, he was cast out for one reason or another, and even still he brought us together to train when the school wouldn't. He only ever wanted the best for us. Even back in second year he stuck is neck out for all of us."
"And look what good all that did for you. Here he lies, dead. And I believe most of you will soon follow." Voldemort paused and smiled to his crowd of supporters behind him. "He's lost. He's gone from you. I am your only other option, save for your demise."
"You may have killed him, but Harry will never be gone from us." Neville said defiantly, gripping his wand firmly now and eyeing the snake coiled not far from him. The great snake had him locked in her eyes and was hissing threateningly. "Not as long as we have his memory. He will live on in all of us."
As he finished his last sentence, he raised his wand hand in a sweeping motion, then cried out half of a spell "Diffin-"
Voldemort's rage spilled over, and he wordlessly paralyzed and disarmed the boy, before saying in parseltongue "Nagini, kill him."
At that moment, several things happened at once.
Neville's wand fell straight to the ground at his feet, as the great snake recoiled back, getting ready to strike, and three voices rang out at the same instant.
"FINITE!" The chorus rang out, coming from Ginny, Parvati, and Luna dispersed through the crowd, most of which was reacting in horror.
Neville was immediately freed from the body bind but found himself wandless as the snake began to lunge.
Time seemed to slow as he closed his eyes and crossed his forearms to shield him from the fang-lined mouth of the beast now speeding for his head. When he did, a bright light came forth from him like a silent lightning flash, and he gripped something hard in his palm.
When the moment was over, the gathered crowd all gasped in unison; some in awe, some in shock.
Neville opened his eyes again and saw three things he'd not expected. For one, Voldemort was frozen in place and looked as though he was enduring a painful shock. Next, there was a headless snake on the ground at his feet.
Lastly, there was a beautiful, silver shortsword with a ruby encrusted handle gripped in his palm.
—X—X—X—
After a moment, all hell broke loose in the courtyard.
The semi-organized ranks of the Death Eaters surged forward into one last attack on the protectors of the castle and the last bastion of the side of light.
Neville dropped to a knee and picked up his wand, shifting the sword of Godric Gryffindor to his other hand.
Voldemort's most ardent supporters closed ranks around him while he regained his composure and let his wrath rise to a level it had yet to see during the battle. They dispersed as waves of energy pulsed from him and he let out a roar of fury.
It took only a few moments for the pairings to sort themselves out.
Shacklebolt, McGonagall, and Slughorn all squared off with Voldemort three on one, while Hermione rushed to join Neville who'd picked up the further attention of Bellatrix Lestrange. Arthur and George Weasley lined up and started slinging their power at Yaxley, while Antonin Dolohov grinned wildly and turned to Molly and Ginny. Luna, Lavender, Ron and Parvati scattered into the fray doing their best to keep any unexpected participants out of the duels that had sprung up.
The rest of the DA was scattered throughout the rest of the fighting.
Hexes and curses filled the air more thickly than at any point the night before. As death eaters leveled their wands at teenagers and weren't holding back and much to the attacker's surprise, the progress was barely noticeable.
As the battles set in for a few moments, visibility became a challenge as the turbulence of spells flying and people running and dashing for cover kicked up dust and debris into a thick cloud in the courtyard. The fog of war, as it were, only allowed for about 10 feet of visibility.
A blinding light suddenly descended from the sky like a comet and slammed into Harry's lifeless form with a deafening crack of thunder. The pulse of the sound both halted the battles raging in the courtyard and cleared the dust from the air in a huge ring like a shockwave.
Hermione and a few others let out a startled cry thinking someone was making a move to further harm or even destroy Harry's body, but their cries or horror were quickly stunned into disbelieving silence.
Harry's limp body raised at least two meters off the ground and hovered, rotating slowly in the air, trailing motes and wisps of pulsing white and golden light. He was flat on his back and his arms and legs were dangling down behind him limply, splayed out as though he were being pulled up by an invisible rope around his waist. Over the next 5 seconds or so, the silenced crowd watched, awestruck, as the gold light seemed to absorb into him while the white remained, strong and pure as ever.
His color began to return to him, and soft pops and crunches were audible to those standing close by as many of the vicious wounds he'd received since he died righted themselves and dark bruises faded from existence as the golden light ebbed away, infusing him from the outside in.
Voldemort, for once, showed signs of genuine fear.
As the last of the soft golden light faded away, there was a potent pulse of white light and energy from him. It radiated out like an explosion, singeing but not particularly harming any of the present Death Eaters, while those fighting for the castle and the light felt it as a cool breeze carrying the scent of crisp night air.
When the pulse of light faded from view, Harry stood in the courtyard, wand in hand with his eyes still faintly glowing. He was a bit disheveled but looking much better than he had for the last several weeks, and energy radiated from him.
He turned his gaze to Voldemort.
"I tried to warn you, Tom." Harry said, plainly and evenly. "It's not your power that knows no bounds, but your hubris."
—X—X—X—
It's amazing what the hard times can reveal
Like who shows up, who walks away, and who's for real
So take me on, I'll take the wheel and we can both outrun the past
We will always live forever if we don't look back
Artist: Shinedown
Track: Daylight
Album: Planet Zero