Fears: Part 2

A jet of green light shot toward Harry's head. Harry closed his eyes tightly, wondering what it felt like to die. He waited for the curse to hit him, to kill him, but all he felt was the floor shake beneath him. Harry was sure he couldn't be dead. 'This couldn't possible be what it feels like to be dead...'

Harry slowly opened one eye. Voldemort stood in front of him, a look of shock forming on his face, as he stared at Harry's feet.

Harry looked down. Lying there, eyes-wide and glazed over, was Peter Pettigrew. Peter was obviously dead. Nothing else would cause a man to fall to the floor with a look of horror that filled his face.

Voldemort still stared at Pettigrew, completely unaware of anything else, leaving Harry with his last and only chance.

Harry ran toward Voldemort, forcing his hands to grab the wand tightly clenched in his hands. Harry's forehead burned with fury, but Harry ignored it. The only thing that mattered now was fulfilling the prophecy, killing Voldemort.

Harry wrapped his fingers around the wand and held on tight. Voldemort held on to the wand, not wanting to let Harry have the chance to defeat him.

Harry instinctively grabbed Voldemort's wrist in hopes to pull his hand off of the wand, allowing Harry to get it.

Harry felt his fingers tingle as Voldemort's wrist turned to dust. Voldemort screamed in terror. Harry stared at his hands, completely baffled. He remembered what Dumbledore had told him during his first year: "If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love."

'Pettigrew? Love? Me?' Harry thought. Harry ignored the minor detail and forced his hands onto Voldemort's face and watched as his face sizzled and burned.

Harry continued "melting" Voldemort until nothing was left but a pile of shimmering gold dust and two wands lying on the floor. Harry picked up his own and shoved it in his back pocket.

Harry collapsed down onto the floor. His scar continued to burn, as though hot wax was being poured onto his bare forehead.

Pettigrew's lifeless body lay on the floor across the room. Harry grinned. He had deserved what he had gotten. Sirius would have been proud of what Peter had done.

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!" Harry could hear Sirius roar.

Sirius' loud voice echoed in the empty room. Harry knew his voice wasn't real, but Harry could imagine Sirius talking to him.

"Peter has done what he's needed to do in life. There's nothing you can do, Harry," Sirius' voice whispered. The voice seemed to have travelled through the wind.

Then, Harry heard Dumbledore's voice again. "The time may come when you will be very glad you saved Pettigrew's life."

Harry shook his head. 'How can Dumbledore always be right?'

Harry scooted over to where Pettigrew's lifeless body lay, and very quietly said, "You have paid your debt."

Silent tears slipped out of Harry's eyes, landing with a splash on the wood floor.