Harry Potter and the Sword of the Hero

HARRY POTTER AND THE SWORD OF THE HERO

Chapter 16 - War

I am become Death, shatterer of worlds.

--J. Robert Oppenheimer upon witnessing
the explosion of the first atomic bomb

Harry awoke to a thin ray of sunlight obscuring his vision. Across the room a slit in the curtains was letting the early morning sunlight pour into the room in a defined line that rested over his face.

For a moment he lay there blinking in the pale morning light as he struggled to recall his dreams. All Harry could remember was an extreme darkness that was pierced by a bright golden thread. It was gone. With an early morning sigh, Harry rolled over and hopped out of bed, cracking a few joints as he went.

The clock on the wall told him it was twenty five past eight as he passed it and went into the bathroom. At the sink Harry splashed his face with cold water and felt immediately refreshed and fully awake for doing so. He stared at his scar in the mirror and gently ran a finger across it. Small flakes of dried blood were chipped away and fell into the sink. Harry winced as this happened and all the memories of yesterday were... remembered.

Who had angered Voldemort so much? And are the dead now? he thought. Grandma Granger's a squib... not overly surprising. Why had my scar burned for hours on end? Why isn't it now? As Harry thought, and all these questions clouded his mind, he twirled the ring on his finger from Ginny, felt the cool silver on his skin and he smiled. It was a really nice piece, and Harry liked it all the more because it had come from such a close friend.

After a shower and a change of clothes, Harry exited the bathroom to find Ron still dead to the world. He smiled; Ron and Hermione had stayed up long into the Christmas night. Harry had gone to bed out of sheer exhaustion just before ten thirty.

Downstairs Harry entered the kitchen to find Mr. and Mrs. Granger, Hermione, and Grandma Granger all seated at the table.

"Morning, Harry," they all said one after the other.

"Good morning," yawned Harry, taking a seat at the table.

"Juice?" asked Hermione, holding up a jug of orange juice.

"Yes, please," Harry said, and passed her a glass that was at his place in front of him.

"You feeling any better, Harry?" asked Mrs. Granger.

Harry stared at her for a moment. "What?"

She smiled knowingly. "It was fairly obvious last night that you weren't at your best. You looked very... unwell."

"Oh! Yeah, yeah I'm fine now. Just felt a bit off last night."

Mrs. Granger nodded and Hermione smiled sadly, but encouragingly at him. Grandma Granger, the squib turned Muggle, just nodded. "So... what are we all up to today?" asked Harry as he took some toast from the rack.

"Well I'm driving, Mum, to the station at ten thirty, and then me and Janet have to be at the practice until late, so its work all day for us," sighed Mr. Granger, rubbing his eyes with his hand.

"We can go to the station to see Grandma off," said Hermione, "but we'll have to catch the bus home. Mum and Dad will be late if they have to drop us back here."

Harry nodded and drank his orange juice in two quick gulps. "Someone's going to have to go slap Ron then. Otherwise he won't be up before sunset."

There were a few laughs at this and Hermione smiled and rose from her chair. "I'll get him up," she said, leaving the kitchen.

*****

Pain. The entire world is pain, and is born of pain; it is with pain that we are born into death. Nothing is real but pain. I hold my breath, and I wish for death.

"An interesting knife," hissed the Dark Lord and Rafe snapped his eyes open. "The runes on the blade have some meaning to you, Boy? They say nothing...."

Ethan saw darkly through the haze that fell before his eyes. Voldemort had removed his dagger from his pocket. Rafe made some struggle to move, that blade was special to him. He'd had it six years.

He wasn't sure when it actually happened, but suddenly Voldemort was leaning over him, and Rafe felt his breath on his cheek... it was cold, deadly so. He shivered. "It ends today, Boy. Potter will know pain as you have...."

With a quick flick of his wrist Voldemort brought the blade up to Rafe's forehead. Ethan barely felt it as the dagger pierced his skin. It was little pain compared to what he had had to endure the past... he wasn't sure how much time had passed? From what Voldemort said it couldn't have been more than a day, but that couldn't be right? It felt like a lifetime, a lifetime of pain.

"You have failed your master, your father, Boy... And death is your reward...."

Without hesitation and with a sadistic pleasure, Rafe watched helplessly as Voldemort raised his dagger above his head. It seemed to happen in slow motion, the blade falling inch by slow inch. In reality it was less than a second before the blade came crashing down and the point ripped into Rafe's skin, just below his ribs. Voldemort plunged the dagger into his skin effortlessly, without a hint of emotion. It went in deep before Voldemort stopped and Ethan coughed up a mouthful of blood.

The last thing he heard, before unconsciousness claimed him, was that evil laughter ringing in his ears. The last thing he saw was Voldemort rise, and cast the dagger aside, his work done. And the last thing Ethan did, before the darkness claimed him... was use his last ounce of strength to move his left arm, the one that wasn't broken, over to the hilt of his dagger. Grasping it weakly, Ethan dragged his arm back over to his pocket, and placed the dagger inside....

*****

One Hour Later

"Goodbye, Mum," said Brian Granger warmly, hugging his mother as her train prepared to make its way out of the busy Muggle platform.

Harry stood with Ron as the goodbyes were said. They were both getting over having to carry the heavy suitcases from the car to the train, and Ron was nursing a small cut the cat had given him through its basket.

"Goodbye, Brian," replied Grandma just as warmly. "And you, Janet. Thank you for Christmas, dear."

"You're welcome," she smiled returning the hug.

She then turned to Hermione. "Hermione, dear. It was nice to see you. That school of yours up North makes it hard to. I hope it won't be another five years between visits?"

Harry smiled as Hermione shook her head and wrapped her arms around her grandmother. "It won't be that long. I'll be home at Easter; do you think you could make it?"

"I'll try, Hermione," she said with a smile and then turned to the train. On the first step up she turned back to Ron and Harry. "It was nice meeting you, boys," she shouted slightly with a knowing sparkle in her eye as she looked at Harry. "Goodbye everyone," she cried finally as the whistle blew and the train began to slowly move out of the platform.

They stayed there until it was out of sight and then the three Grangers, plus Ron and Harry, turned away and headed back to the car. Harry followed the crowd through the busy station, dodging people who were passing here and there. At one point Harry turned around quickly, he had felt that someone's eyes were upon him. Just a tingling feeling on the back of his neck. He scanned the crowds and his search turned up no one suspicious, though Harry remained on his guard. After walking down the escalator the station gave way to the car park.

Once they reached the car there was a small discussion, in which it was decided that Mr. Granger would drive the three of them to Flinders Street, which was a few streets over from their building, and they could catch the right bus home from there.

The traffic on the roads was busy as Mr. Granger wound his Ford Mustang through the streets of Abingdon. The weather threatened snow again as Harry looked out of his window and up into the sky, but not for a while. Harry didn't know why, but as soon as the car turned onto Flinders Street, he felt unexplainably nervous.

Halfway up the street Mr. Granger pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the car. "This is the bus stop," he said, pointing to said bus stop. "We'll see you three later tonight," he ended.

"Goodbye, kids," added Mrs. Granger.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione said their goodbyes and stepped out of the car. With a final wave the car pulled away and continued on down the road until it turned a corner and was lost from sight.

The three of them moved over to the bus stop and Harry went over and checked the time table attached to the stop. "Ten minutes," he called to Ron and Hermione. "It is the 462, right?"

"Yep," nodded Hermione.

"Then ten minutes," finished Harry, walking back over to the bench and sitting down.

As Ron and Hermione talked happily and carefree. Harry watched the people who were moving up and down the very busy street suspiciously. He couldn't shake the nervous feeling he'd gotten as soon as he was on this street, and after all these years of fighting he'd learned to pay attention to his feelings. All he saw were the normal old brick buildings and crowds of busy people, all having something on their minds. It was, for all intents and purposes, a normal Muggle street.

"Where did you get that ring, Harry?" asked Ron five minutes later.

"Hmm... Oh! Oh.... Your -eh- your sister gave it to me?" he said nervously.

Hermione grinned but Ron appeared confused. "Ginny?"

"Of course, Ginny," answered Hermione, rolling her eyes.

Ron's brow furrowed in confusion. "But I thought she didn't like Harry anymore?"

Harry blushed slightly. "This doesn't mean she likes me, Ron," he said unconvincingly, but with a smile, "it was just a Christmas present."

Ron opened his mouth to reply but was stopped when Hermione jumped up because the bus had arrived. It turned off the busy street and came to a grinding halt before them. As usual, the automatic doors opened with a hiss.

"Come on, you," smiled Hermione, grasping Ron's hand and pulling him up the steps of the bus before he could say anything else to Harry.

Harry smiled, then laughed, and then finally shook his head. Ron really was a good friend. Before he walked up the steps, Harry pulled out his Muggle money bag from his pocket. He was just about to jump on to the bus when a passer-by nudged his back causing a few coins to slip out of the top and onto the icy ground. Harry cursed under his breath and motioned the bus driver to wait a minute as he picked them up. It didn't take him long. Harry made sure he had them all, as he needed them to pay his fare on, and walked forward. He only got his foot on to the first step before the world exploded....

It happened instantly, viciously, and unexpectedly. The building two doors down from the one directly behind Harry exploded in a ball of dark green flames. The initial shockwave sent Harry flying backwards across the length of the bus before dropping him hard at the rear of the vehicle. Small bits of plaster and debris from the explosion ripped his skin and were embedded in his face as the flames ripped out into the street. The explosion continued and Harry looked up from the ground to see several Muggles flying through the air from the pure force of the blast and some of them were engulfed by the green flames.

It only took another moment for the screams to start. The nearby pedestrians that had been knocked off their feet from the blast cried out in horror at this unexplained event. Harry had been winded when he landed, and was now struggling for breath and trying to get up as the cuts on and across his face began to bleed. He knew this was no accident.

The bus driver had some sense about him; as soon as the initial shock was over he slammed on the accelerator and began to drive away fast from the scene. Harry coughed and relaxed slightly when he realised his friends were escaping.

They arrived a moment later, as soon as Harry was on his feet. The pops and cracks signalled their arrival and Harry watched with a growing fear as Death Eater's in long black cloaks appeared up and down the street. With an angry groan, Harry flicked his wrist, and his wand was propelled into his hand from its holster.

Most of the Muggles on the street stood in shock horror as the impossible happened right before their eyes. Apart from the green flames, people in dark cloaks were appearing out of nowhere. Harry, without a moment's hesitation, began running up the street to the nearest Death Eater and starting shouting for everybody else to run.

It was then that the real nightmare started. As a collective group the growing number of Death Eater's on the street raised their wands to the nearest Muggle and started shouting Unforgivable curses. Harry's stomach flipped as he saw a group of Death Eater's across the street slaughter three Muggles mercilessly. All of them enveloped needlessly in green light.

With an increased ferocity, he ran faster to meet the first Death Eater. The man turned just in time to take Harry's full weight in the chest. As Harry collided with him he heard several cracks that had to be ribs, and then the man cried out from beneath his mask. "I hope that hurt," shouted Harry angrily as he looked at a lifeless Muggle a few feet away, eyes wide with a dead surprise. This Death Eater was responsible. "Stupefy," said Harry as he got up, the man giving no fight.

Harry took a deep breath and assessed the situation as best he could in a few small seconds. What he saw was horrible. The once normal street of only a few minutes ago now resembled a battlefield. Several buildings and structures up and down the street were alight with green and red flames. And defenceless Muggles were running here and there, some straight into the light of the killing curse. The noise was almost deafening as cars crashed into one another, and curses crossed each other in mid air. And the screams, the screams were what Harry remembered the most.

The scene made him angry, very angry. In a few seconds Harry felt and saw the familiar tingle and small bolts of lightning on his skin that meant his emotion had released his power. It had been anger, of course, that had caused the reaction. But Harry wasn't complaining.

"Stupefy," he shouted, and a jet of enormous red light, more powerful than usual, burst out of his wand and rocketed across the road and into the back of a Death Eater. The Death Eater was thrown into the air, and came down hard on the roof of a parked car.

Harry turned to look up the street as he heard the screech of tyres and fear once again took him. It was the bus. The bus that held his friends.... At the end of the street, roughly one hundred and fifty metres away, was a line of Death Eater's that prevented anyone or anything from leaving the street.

Harry cried out from where he stood as the Death Eater's, all two dozen or so of them, pointed their wands at the bus and shouted a levitation charm. The bus was instantly lifted off the ground and flew thirty feet up into the air.

Without even thinking, Harry ran towards the bus with all the speed he could muster. As he went he Stupefied two more Death Eater's and shouted to the Muggles to get themselves out of the way.

Ignoring the growing pain in his cheek from the shrapnel embedded there, Harry jumped onto and then over the bonnet of a crashed car, that was being licked by green flames from a near by alight shop. It took him ten seconds to reach the bus and then his common sense caught up with him. He couldn't stop twenty Death Eater's single handed, and he couldn't stop them from dropping the bus either.

They hadn't seen him yet as he was now hidden, crouched behind to a parked car. Harry watched the bus swirl in the air and heard the laughter from the men in masks down below. He could just make out the people on the bus up above as it tilted to its side and they were thrown roughly against the window. There was the sound of smashing glass up above and a person fell out from thirty feet as the bus was rotated three hundred and sixty degrees in the air.

Harry swore loudly as he watched this person fall, and then without really thinking about it, he raised his wand and took careful aim. "Wingardium Leviosa," he shouted and felt the familiar pull on his wand as his charm connected with an object. Harry let out a long held breath as he eased the woman, who had fallen, to the ground slowly.

She was safe, at the moment. But her survival had alerted the Death Eater's to his position. Harry looked back up the battle ruined street briefly to see another building go up in flames, and several more Muggles get cut down by green light. But Harry had a bigger problem right now.

When it happened, it happened fast. It only took the Death Eater's levitating the bus a moment to realise who he was, and when they did every single one of them broke the connection their wands had with the bus, and pointed them at Harry.

It was an impossible decision. If he tried to catch the bus, which would be near impossible considering its size and weight, the Death eater's would surely kill him while he was occupied being the hero. If Harry fought the Death Eater's, then the bus would fall thirty feet to he ground, certainly killing everybody on board, and that included Ron and Hermione. In the end there was no real choice. He would die for his friends.

Harry ran out form behind the car and into the middle of the death filled road. He stood directly underneath where the bus would land and pointed his wand up towards it. Harry sighed as he heard the first curses of the Death Eater's begin to form on their lips, and raised his other hand. He briefly noticed the small crackles of lightning across its surface, and, if anyone could have told him, his eyes held the same crackles of power.

The bus was falling fast now and Harry barely shouted his charm before it was too late. "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" he cried with every ounce of his being. The bus was four feet above his head, and about ten feet above the road, when it came to a sudden, floating stop. Harry's eye's widened at the sight of it. The bus had fallen on its side, so its occupants were pressed against the glass pane windows. Harry could see the terrified Muggles and he also saw Ron holding onto Hermione at the back, who wasn't moving. They were both pressed against the glass.

All of this happened in a single moment, though, and Harry collapsed to his knees almost instantly as the strength and magic required to levitate the bus on his own was tremendous. He panted heavily and it was now that the curses of the Death Eater's caught up with him.

Harry turned his head slightly and saw multiple beams of red light flying towards him. Odd he thought they're not trying to kill?. His thoughts were lost in an instant though as he realised these spells would surely break his connection with the bus. It was directly above him, and would crush him for sure if it fell. At least they'll survive he thought briefly. They won't fall that far....

Harry braced himself for death and closed his eyes against the coming curses. A few moments passed and nothing happened. Another few and then Harry opened his eyes. No curses had hit him. The shield, the blue shield created by his magic had taken each and every curse fired towards him and had absorbed it into its blue haze. He hadn't created the shield, nor had he thought of it, but it was there just the same.

Harry sighed heavily with relief and barely heard the Death Eater's shouts of anger and more futile attempts at firing curses, only to have the shield stop them. He didn't know how long the shield would last, and the bus was now really heavy on his arms. With a last effort he pulled his arms to the left and brought the bus over a clear patch of road. He lowered it slowly but it was still two feet off the ground when the effort became too much physically, and magically. His levitation charm broke and the bus fell the remaining two feet, Harry cringed as the windows smashed and the metal scraped across the ground, sending fiery sparks up into the air.

As soon as the weight of the bus was off his shoulders Harry felt his strength return almost instantly. He turned as the resounding clangs of curses kept hitting his shield. He saw the twenty four Death Eater's fire curse after curse, all non lethal ones, he was wanted alive, and get more and more frustrated as they did nothing.

Harry clenched his jaw and got to his feet quietly, his shield glowing blue as another curse hit it. He eyes flicked quickly to the bus, and then to the destruction of the street around him, all of the bodies of the innocent lying here and there, some burning in the green flames, leaving a sickly smell. And then Harry turned back to the two dozen Death Eater's. They-would-pay. If not for all the destruction up and down this street, then for trying to kill his friends. That was what blinded Harry now, anger. No, not anger, pure rage directed at the servants of Voldemort for threatening two of the few people he loved.

"You want a fight? You've got a fight," he shouted and took two quick steps forward. The Death Eater's were about fifteen metres away and laughed as Harry stepped forward to challenge them. You won't be laughing long he thought.

Harry ran, raising both his wand and his hand as he did so. "Incendio," he cried and a massive ball of flame burst from his wand and hand, combining into one. It hit a laughing Death Eater who wasn't quick enough to move. He was instantly burnt to a crisp from head to toe as the fire engulfed him, and his screams joined that of the innocent. He died quickly, as did the laughter of the other Death Eater's.

Harry's shield absorbed another fifteen stunner spells, but he could tell it was weakening. It wouldn't take much more of a pounding, but he would give them hell before the end. Harry cried out in rage as he spotted a Muggle child lying dead three feet away. Innocent... "Reducto!" he shouted and the red light burst through the smoky air and hit a Death Eater in the chest. He was instantly blown into a thousand unrecognisable pieces.

Another assault of spells and this time the shield flickered at the last and a burning curse broke through the blue haze. It hit Harry on the upper left shoulder and he winced, letting a cry escape his lips as his skin was burnt deeply. It was then that Harry realised that he couldn't stop all the Death Eater's before his shield fell... he couldn't win... but something told him to try anyway, to carry on the fight.

"Stupefy," he cried and another of the shieldless Death Eater's fell. Harry fired the stunning curse again but it missed. The words formed on his lips a third time, but just as he was about to say them, a strange feeling assaulted his senses and Harry paused halfway during the spell. A voice in his head whispered, double the spell, triple it.

Harry had no idea what this meant, but when he looked down at his wand he saw that the tip was glowing red. The voice in his head told him it was the stunning spell he had thought of a moment ago. Double it, triple it, go even further....

Harry understood what it meant. The spell, the Stupefy spell was sitting at the end of his wand, waiting to be fired. He didn't know how he knew? But he realised that he could add another Stupefy to the end, increasing its power. So that is what he did. Harry concentrated, not really knowing what he was doing. All the sounds of battle, the smell of burning, and the sight of death was forgotten as Harry thought of adding another stunning spell to the one already on the tip of his wand. Beads of sweat appeared on his brow and Harry almost dropped his wand as the red light at the tip of the wand became brighter. There was the power of two spells there now. He did it again, only this time it came faster. The red light at the tip became even brighter and that was when Harry realised it.

"STUPEFY!" he shouted and felt the magic erupt from his wand. He stepped back slightly from the force of the spell as it shot through the air. It exploded near a group of eight Death Eater's and four of them were dropped instantly. The other Death Eater's turned to see four of their number drop, and some of them stepped back in fear. Uncertainty in their stance as they looked from the fallen, and then back to Harry, who was glowing with power, the fury evident in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Harry was already rebuilding that power. He didn't know how he knew this magic. Something in his mind had just... known it. Right now he didn't care; he'd worry about it later. It was just what he needed to thin out their numbers. They had begun to circle him now, but Harry did it faster this time. Building one stupefy spell on top of another. In fifteen seconds he had six at the end of his wand, and the light from it was so bright it was almost blinding. He pointed his wand into the thick of the Death Eater's and released the magic. As it exploded out of his wand Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise at the sheer power. He was almost thrown back as the beam of ultra bright red light hit one of the Death Eater's sharply. He was instantly stunned for at least a week, and any Death Eater within ten metres of him fell as well. In one spell Harry had taken out ten of the Death Eater's. It had honestly scared him, that magic was on par with Dumbledore and Harry felt extremely weak for using it. What's happening to me? he thought...

His spell was it for the rest of them, though. Harry turned, anger and power lighting up his eyes. It was clear to the eight remaining Death Eater's that they wouldn't win a fight. Harry knew this, and what's more Harry didn't care. He heard the screams of dying Muggles on the streets, the charred corpses of once innocent shoppers were all he saw. Ash and smoke were heavy in the air as he raised his wand at the fearful group of Death Eater's.

Harry felt his magic crackle over him like a second skin, and in the blink of an eye he called four more stunner spells to the tip of his wand. Without hesitation he let them loose on the retreating party of enemies. Two of them took the brunt of the spell, and the resounding shockwave knocked out another three in close proximity.

There were now only three Death Eater's, when five minutes ago there had been twenty four. They were on the floor and struggling to get up as the power of his spell had knocked them down.

Harry ran over to the closest one, some fifteen metres away on the ground who was struggling against the stunner that had almost hit them. He fell to his knees as he came level to the Death Eater and grabbed the scruff of robes around their neck. A brief glance up the road told him the other two Death Eater's had already gone, Disapparated. But that didn't matter, they would pay for their crimes eventually, right now Harry had his Death Eater.

He looked back down at the person he held roughly in his grasp. There was coughing coming from behind the white mask and Harry felt a moment of confusion, it sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it. He sighed angrily and let fall his wand into the holster. Without even a moment of hesitation, Harry grabbed the mask, and pulled it cruelly away from the face of the Death Eater.

The shock came instantly, but Harry got over it just as quick. This was someone he knew, someone he knew very well. "Hello, Umbridge," Harry said acidly, anger in his voice and not a hint of any other emotion.

Dolores Jane Umbridge was still reeling from the stunner spell, but Harry couldn't mistake the absolute hatred and venom that was in her eyes, directed right at him. For a brief moment he thought that his eyes probably looked the same.

With a cry of anger Harry stood up, and in so doing brought Umbridge up by the collar with him. He pushed her back against the underside of an upturned car and removed his wand from its holster. With one hand still holding her against the car, and another now pointing his wand in her face, Harry saw Umbridge realise the hopelessness of the situation. She struggled slightly but Harry pushed her back effortlessly, his strength coming from his anger.

He now saw the hatred in her eyes turn to fear as she stared with her wide toad like face from the wand and then to Harry in turn. Harry took a deep breath and then with a few moments thought, called two Reductor curses to the tip of his wand. It glowed brightly across Umbridge's face, and she cried out slightly as Harry inched his wand closer. "Nice to see you again, Professor," Harry whispered but she heard it all and whimpered slightly at the unforgiving tone in his voice. "Oh, don't worry," continued Harry. "This," he shook his wand close to her face causing her to whimper again, "is just to make sure I have your complete attention."

Harry showed no emotion as he grasped her robes tighter and then stepped to the side and threw her roughly to the ground. He had absolutely no patience for Death Eater's, especially this one. Harry still kept his wand trained on her as she turned to look fearfully up at him from the ash covered road.

Harry spoke so forcefully next that anyone who heard it would've taken a step back at the feeling of power his words seemed to hold. "Go back to Voldemort," she whimpered again, "You go back and tell him. Tell him one day soon he will know the pain he has caused. Tell him I'm coming...." Harry turned away from the sight of Umbridge in front of him, he wondered briefly if she had cast any of the spells that had killed the Muggles that now littered the battle ridden street. "Go," he said with an edge in his voice. "Go, before I do something we'll both regret."

Umbridge didn't need telling twice. She was gone a second later with a loud crack and Harry didn't turn back to look at her. Instead he ran, he ran back over to the upturned bus that was beginning to smoke slightly from the heat of the flames that were licking its underside from a destroyed, smouldering building not far away. The survivors on board were climbing out, and some of the stronger braver ones were helping others out of the windows.

With a loud sigh Harry climbed onto the 'roof' of the bus, which was really the right hand side and looked down into it for Ron and Hermione. It was now that the exhaustion of his battle began to catch up to him. He hadn't realised it, but now that the adrenalin in his system was beginning to calm down, as was his magic, he was in quite a bit of pain. The pieces of shrapnel embedded in his face and exposed skin stung terribly. It hurt to move his left arm, as the burning curse had left his shoulder weak. He also felt just... tired.

Harry shook his head, though, now wasn't the time. His friends needed him. He came to a man who was also standing on the bus, and was trying to pull what must have been his wife out through the window. Without saying a word Harry jumped to the other side and grabbed her other arm. With a nod to the man, who saw his face and cringed, they lifted her up and out of the damaged bus.

Harry didn't wait, he barely heard the mans thanks before he began off again down the bus. He remembered seeing them at the back when he had levitated it down safely, and in three seconds he was there.

Ron and Hermione were there as well. At the 'bottom' of the bus lay Hermione, a nasty looking bump on her forehead, she wasn't moving.... And trying vainly to get her up was Ron, who was bleeding from a cut on his cheek. "RON!" he cried and his best friend looked up fearfully from inside the bus.

"Harry?" he said carefully as he took in all the blood on his friends face. "Harry, is that you?"

Harry didn't answer. Instead he moved one window over to the right and, without another moment's thought, stepped down heavily on the glass with his left foot. It shattered instantly and Harry was just about to jump down into the bus when he heard something above the destruction of the street.

Harry paused and didn't turn for a moment. "POTTER!" shouted a cold hard voice. Harry looked up from his kneeling position on top of the bus and a fresh wave of fury emanated from him.

About one hundred and fifty metres down the street stood two lone Death Eater's. The only ones left on the street. One was robed and unidentifiable; the other Harry knew all to well. The two men were carrying something between them, and as Harry watched they threw it to the ground roughly. The robed man Disapparated and Harry shouted. "PETTIGREW!"

"It's not over, Harry," said the rat faced Peter Pettigrew and then with a final smug look he to Disapparated. They had left whatever they had been carrying behind.

"Harry! Harry, help me. I can't get her up on my own." Harry only just heard Ron; he looked up the street to the bundle Pettigrew had left behind and something told him to go to it. He hesitated for a moment and then felt a hand on his shoulder. Harry wheeled around, wand in hand and... stopped. It was the man he had helped just a moment ago.

"Can I help you, son?" he asked in a strong Irish accent.

Harry looked down at his friends in the bus, to the bundle up the road, and then finally back to the man. "Please," he said. "Help my friends out of the bus...."

Without another word Harry jumped forward and off the end of the bus down to the hard road. He ran slightly up the destroyed street, another nervous feeling shrouding him as he drew closer to whatever Pettigrew had left.

Harry passed by body after mangled body, each one had the same look upon their face. They were frozen in fear. He coughed as he ran through a heavy cloud of smoke and ash and drew close to the prone form just up ahead. Harry slowed to a walk as he came upon the bundle. It took him a moment to realise it was a person; he couldn't see who because he was lying on his stomach with his face turned away.

Harry approached cautiously, his wand tight in his hand. He looked about the street around him quickly, making sure there were no enemies, that it wasn't a trap... and then Harry bent down and turned over the still form.

The person coughed as he turned and Harry let out a cry of surprise mingled with fear and a thousand other emotions as he recognised the person beneath him. Harry fell to the ground as shock took hold. It wasn't possible... it was horrible... it was real.

"Ethan," croaked Harry, looking up and down Rafe's body slowly. He noticed at least a hundred dark bruises on all his exposed skin. His right arm was pointing at an odd angle and he was sure it was broken. From the short stabs of breathe coming from Rafe, Harry surmised that he had broken ribs. And from the way his foot hung, had a broken ankle as well. But that wasn't the worst of it.... Harry could see a deep stab wound across his stomach that had been bleeding heavily, and still was slightly. He recognised the symptoms of the Cruciatus curse as well, the rings under the eyes and the pale look his skin held. There was also one final wound... cut crudely into Ethan's forehead, about a quarter of an inch thick, was a lightning bolt shaped scar.

Harry almost threw up at the sight before him, almost. It was then that Rafe's eyes snapped open and he seemed to focus on the world around him. He looked around wildly for a moment before his gaze settled on Harry's. Harry looked down helplessly, it was obvious he was dying, he was almost unrecognisable.

"...Harry..." whispered Rafe his eyes focusing and blurring one after the other.

"It's me, Ethan," croaked Harry, tears in his eyes.

"Harry... I'm- I'm- I'm.... sorry...." Rafe said with some effort.

Harry didn't know why he was sorry but it didn't matter. "Don't be," he said as Rafe closed his eyes again. Harry jumped. "NO!" he shouted, pulling Ethan close to him and gentle slapping his cheek. "Stay awake, Rafe. We can get help-"

Ethan's eyes opened again and he coughed in what Harry thought may have been laughter. "No... Harry. Its over." He coughed again but this time he brought up some blood in doing so.

"Ethan... I-" Harry began.

"Don't... don't say it, Harry." Harry could tell that every word caused him pain. "Don't say it. We've all got to die sometime..."

Harry had nothing to say to that. What could anyone say to that? He looked around helplessly for anything that could help him... there was nothing. "Did Voldemort do this, Ethan?"

Rafe's eyes opened and closed a few times. "Voldemort...? Yes. Ask Dumbledore, Harry, he'll tell you everything...."

"What are you talking about, Ethan?" asked Harry desperately.

Ethan's eyes flickered in and out of focus for a moment, and his mouth opened and closed slowly. He closed his eyes for a few minutes and Harry feared the worst, but then he opened them again and there was a fierce determination there.

"Harry... argh... Harry. Take this..." Ethan moved his left hand slowly down to his jeans pocket; it took him all his strength to weakly pull a dagger out of his pocket by the hilt. "This, Harry... take it."

Harry stared from Rafe, to the dagger. His eyes were as focused as they had ever been and Harry gently reached over and removed the dagger from his still hand. The blade was encrusted with dried blood and Harry didn't have to think hard as to who's, as his gaze lingered on the stab wound in Rafe's stomach.

He looked remorsefully back into Ethan's eyes. "Promise me, Harry. Promise...." Ethan raised his hand and grabbed the scruff of Harry's shirt around his neck. His breathing was coming in short desperate gasps now. He was at the end. "Take the blade... You have to... have to promise me, Harry. Promise me you'll send the Devil back to Hell. Promise me you'll defeat Voldemort...."

"Ethan... I-" Harry stopped as he saw the look in Rafe's eyes. This was a dying man's wish. "I... promise."

Ethan sighed and let his grasp on Harry's shirt go. His breathing was laboured now and coming more infrequently. Harry watched helplessly, as Ethan's blue eyes glazed over and all the life died within them.

He let fall a silent tear as the breathing stopped all together, and Ethan Rafe died in the middle of this street of pain. Harry reached over and closed his eyes with a brush of his hand. A thousand thoughts whipping through his head as he did so. He's dead... What do I do now? Why's it always me...? I can't be expected to carry on... but I must. I can't leave his body here... but I must. I need to get my friends to Hogwart's... Ron, Hermione.... Placing the dagger in his pocket, Harry rose.

Harry wiped away the tears and taking a final look at Ethan's lifeless body, turned away back to the bus, and the problem at hand. Now wasn't the time for guilt, or tears. He still had a job to do... Harry began to sprint back up the road. Forming a plan in his head as he went. He made himself think logically... Okay, what do I need to do? Get everyone to safety at Hogwart's. How am I going to do that? Use the floo powder in the Granger's fireplace. Which means I need to get everybody back to Hermione's house. We need transport...

Harry reached the bus just as Ron and the Muggle man were helping Hermione down off the roof. She was swaying unsteadily on her feet and looked slightly confused at the surroundings around her. Harry hoped it was only the bump on the head causing this, and not something more serious.

"Ron," he said as he drew level to the bus.

"Jesus, Harry. What the hell is going on? You look like you've been run over by the bloody Hogwart's Express!" exclaimed Ron, taking in Harry's weary form.

Harry nodded grimly. Ron was still bleeding across his cheek and half his face was caked in dry blood. "I feel like it as well," he said as Hermione finally placed her feet on the ground.

"Thank you," said Ron and Harry together to the stranger who had helped them. The man's wife was standing a short distance away, holding her side and looking around in utter disbelief at the destruction around her.

The man looked them up and down. "I'm not sure what's going on, lads," he said in his Irish accent. "But good luck to yer," he ended and turned away over to his wife.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" asked Ron, holding Hermione up with an arm under her shoulders.

She nodded slightly. "Just a bump on the head, Ron.... Harry? Harry, you look terrible!"

Harry ignored her. They had to get out of here, to Hogwart's. "Hermione," he said seriously. "How far is it to your parent's office? We have to get back to your house now." Harry began to hear siren's in the distance. The Muggle emergency services were arriving. He glanced at his watch and discovered it was only quarter to twelve. The first explosion had rung out through the street only twenty five minutes ago, Harry felt like it had been hours.

Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion and gingerly touched the lump on her head. "Ow...." she winced, but her strength was returning, as was her awareness. "It's... four streets over, Oxford Street. We have to head to the end of this one and turn right."

Harry nodded to Ron and in an instant they were off, each of them holding one of Hermione's arms to keep her steady on her feet. Harry was thankful they were going the opposite direction to where Rafe lied. Right now that would cause too many time wasting questions, and the pain from that was still yet to fully hit Harry, he didn't have time to grieve yet. They still had to pass several bodies on the street, though, and when they came to the large pile of unconscious Death Eater's Ron looked at Harry but didn't say anything and Harry didn't enlighten him.

At the end of the battle field that was once Flinders Street, there were half a dozen upturned cars smouldering in fire and smoke. On this new road, Grey Sky Drive, were some of the survivors and people who had just been caught in passing. The traffic had come to a dead halt at the entrance to Flinders Street and quite a crowd had developed of disgruntled motorists and pedestrians. Of course they took one look at the street and saw the death and destruction before turning away.

Some were helping the injured, though. As Harry and Ron struggled with Hermione, Harry saw the same Irish bloke who had helped him now helping with the injured in the road. There are a few good people out there he thought as they made good speed up Grey Sky Drive. Most people on the street stood in shock as they saw the mangled, dead, or dying bodies of the innocent. It was truly a massacre, and nobody knew what to do.

They passed by the first turn off on Grey Sky and Harry could see the fourth one roughly three hundred metres down the road, that was the one they were making for. The Muggles looked at him in horror as he passed, their hands raised to their mouths.

Harry didn't know how he looked, but from their reactions he assumed it was bad. He raised his spare arm and rubbed the skin on his face along his left cheek. Harry cried out and almost dropped Hermione as he disturbed the protruding pieces of metal shrapnel embedded there and pushed them in further, they hurt. He also noticed that the glass lens on the left side of his glasses was shattered. I must really look a mess he thought.

They passed more and more helpless Muggles who had no experience in things like this, and they passed by the first of the emergency service vehicles. Harry was exhausted as they passed the third turn off, but Hermione said she felt fit enough to stand on her own now, so he and Ron let her go.

"Are you sure?" asked Ron. She just nodded grimly and the three of them continued down the street at a fast pace.

They were further away form the disaster area now, and some people weren't sure what was happening. Several called out to Harry to stop, but he ignored them. The traffic was moving up here and more and more emergency vehicles passed them by.

The Granger's practice wasn't that far down Oxford Street, and Harry recognised Mr. Granger's Ford Mustang in the car park, right below the sign that advertised the business.

Hermione led the way now. She ran across the car park as people stood in horror at the sight of them, all bloodied and torn. Hermione pushed open the glass door to the two storey building and the three of them entered quickly.

Harry and Ron followed Hermione down a white hallway and he barely noticed the pictures on the wall of the Granger's and their daughter as they passed by in a blur, or the door that said Surgery. They ran straight into the waiting room, which had three people sitting in chairs nervously. Two of them stood up as Harry, Ron, and Hermione came running in, but Harry once again ignored them.

"There we go, Mrs. Perkins," said a familiar voice to Harry's left. "Just don't eat anything for two hours and next year lay off all the Christmas-"

"MUM!" screamed Hermione, tears running down her face.

Janet Granger looked up sharply and it took her a moment to register what she saw before she screamed loudly. "HERMIONE! What? BRIAN! BRIAN, GET OUT HERE NOW!"

Mrs. Granger ran over to her daughter quickly, and was closely followed by a confused looking Mr. Granger, who took one look at the three of them and cried out as well.

"What happened?" he asked quickly and sharply, wincing as his eyes fell on Harry's face.

"You have to drive us back to your house now!" said Harry quietly, but forcibly, while Ron nodded and Hermione cried into her mother's shoulder.

"What is going on?" repeated Mr. Granger.

"I'll explain on the way," said Harry nervously. They couldn't linger... he had to get to Hogwart's.

Mr. Granger looked from Harry to Ron and then Hermione in turn. "Right," he finally said, "come on. We have to get you to a hospital, Harry. Your face is ripped to shreds."

"NO!" shouted Harry. "It doesn't matter. Right now we have to get to your home."

The other people in the surgery watched with mouths agape as the argument raged. Mr. Granger finally relented. "Okay... but you better know what you're doing!" he said angrily.

Mr. Granger dug into his pocket and pulled out his keys. Sensing the need of urgency, he set off at a slight jog. Harry followed, and then came Mrs. Granger still holding Hermione, and then Ron.

They were in the car and pulling out onto the street two minutes later. Harry briefly explained about the destruction four streets over, and pointed to the smoke rising from there. The sirens and flashing lights were everywhere as Mr. Granger turned onto Grey Sky Drive.

He took the first right so as to avoid the destruction zone. For the first time in an hour all the events began to catch up to Harry. He saw a thousand images in his mind flick by in quick succession. The first explosion, the dozens of Death Eater's, the levitated bus, his shield and how he had joined spells together, Dolores Umbridge, Ethan.... Harry wiped away another tear as he saw Ethan again, he would never forget that. But he couldn't grieve yet, there was still work to do. He felt for the dagger in his pocket that Ethan had given him. I promise....

"Are these people after you, Harry?" asked Mrs. Granger.

Harry nodded. Why else would they be here? "Yes," he croaked through his dry sore throat.

"Then what do you plan to do?" asked Mr. Granger.

"Just get us back to your home. We can escape to Hogwart's from there."

Ron looked at him; Harry thought that he looked really bad. He was pale and was obviously only just keeping it together. "How?" he asked.

"Dumbledore gave me some floo powder," Harry told him and Ron looked relieved.

Mr. Granger was taking the back streets home and was doing speeds that probably weren't legal.

After ten minutes they were in an area that Harry began to recognise. He thought they were about two minutes away. "You two will have to come to Hog-" Harry leaned forward to say but was immediately thrown back as his scar burst with pain. He clasped his hand to his forehead and bit back the pain, but it was too late. He'd Seen.

"Shit,' he said as the pain cleared.

"What is it?" asked Mr. Granger and Hermione quickly.

Harry clenched his jaw. "Just hurry it up," was all Harry said as his scar continued to burn fiercely.

In three minutes Mr. Granger was pulling the car into the drive way and before he had even fully stopped Harry jumped out of his door and raced towards the house. "Get to the living room," he shouted behind himself as he ran, and looked back to see everyone getting out of the car. The front door was locked, of course, but Harry quickly shouted an unlocking charm as he reached it and it burst open.

Without stopping he ran up the stairs two at a time. On the top one he collapsed as his scar burned again and sent him tripping over the stair to the floor. Harry cried angrily. Come on he thought getting up. He ran into his room and grabbed his bag from the base of his bed. He saw Ron's bag across the room and it was open. As quick as a flash Harry grabbed all his and Ron's loose belongings from the table and shoved them into Ron's bag. With a wave of his hand the bag zipped itself up and Harry slung it over his shoulder.

Harry had only taken one step forward when his scar exploded a third time and he fell to one knee. Yeah, yeah I know he's coming he thought angrily.

In less than five seconds Harry was running down the stairs and into the living room. Ron and Hermione were already standing by the fire, while Hermione tried to explain to her parents what was happening. As he entered Harry threw Ron his bag, he caught it deftly and slung it over his shoulder. Meanwhile, Harry ripped open his bag and dug around for the small bag of floo he knew to be there.

There was a loud resounding bang outside and Harry looked to the window to see a blue and gold shield sparkle in the air. Everyone else saw it as well. It's the wards thought Harry. He's bringing down the protection.

Hermione realised what it was as well, and urged Harry to hurry up. It took Harry another moment to find the bag and when he did he cried triumphantly.

"Here," he said, grabbing his backpack and shoving it into Hermione's arms. He then pushed Hermione into the fireplace. Another loud bang and then Harry tore open the small pouch of powder. He took a pinch, looked desperately at Hermione for a moment before throwing it to the ground at her feet. She was immediately engulfed by the flames, and transported to safety.

"WHAT DID YOU DO!" shouted Mr. Granger, as he watched Hermione disappear in a ball of flames.

Harry had no time for this. He grabbed Mr. Granger's arm and pushed him roughly into the fireplace. "Don't worry,' he said simply as the wards cracked and a shower of golden sparks rained to the ground. It would have been quite beautiful if it didn't mean they were no longer safe. "Shit," whispered Harry and threw some floo into the fireplace. In a flash Mr. Granger was gone.

"What are you doing?" cried Mrs. Granger this time.

"Ron get into the fireplace," shouted Harry as another, final bang was heard and this time blue sparks fell. That was it, the wards were gone. Ron stood in the fireplace now, and Harry threw some powder to his feet. He was gone in the green flames.

Harry sighed with the exhaustion. "Your turn," he said finally, turning to Mrs. Granger. She didn't budge. "MOVE!" shouted Harry and she took a few nervous steps into the fireplace. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and dug into the floo powder for a fourth time. It was then that, for the second time that day, Harry's world exploded.

The front of the house simply exploded. The glass was ripped from the windows and the plaster, brick and wood of the walls was vaporised into dust. Harry was thrown from the fireplace and onto the sofa which tipped as he flew into it roughly. Harry could feel more shrapnel now embedded into his skin and he winced as he saw a piece of splintered wood stuck in his arm. "Argh," he cried as he pulled it out.

It was then that Harry noticed that his scar had stopped burning, and, despite the destruction of the front walls, all appeared calm.... but it was far from it. He didn't need to hear Mrs. Granger's scream of absolute terror, to know who stood where the wall to the house had moments before.

Harry rose slowly, carefully, fear gnawing at his stomach. He rose and looked into the face of Lord Voldemort.

"We meet again, Harry Potter," he hissed in his snake like voice.

"Voldemort," whispered Harry, and Mrs. Granger screamed again.

Harry never took his eyes of Voldemort, and Voldemort in turn never took his eyes from Harry. This was the first time since the Ministry that they had come face to face in reality, and despite all that Harry had said, he was afraid.

"Mrs. Granger," he said calmly, his eyes still on Voldemort. "The floo powder is by your feet, you know what to do."

Mrs. Granger was whimpering in fear and didn't seem capable of rational thought. "Always the hero, Potter," whispered Voldemort, pointing his wand at Mrs. Granger in the fireplace.

Harry's eyes widened as he watched Voldemort, standing on the rubble and destruction of the front of the house, do this. "Don't..." he said quickly, desperately.

A smile passed across Voldemort's face. "Put down you wand, Harry." Harry did without a second thought, the wood of his wand clunking to the floor. Voldemort now brought his own wand back to Harry.

"Mrs. Granger," shouted Harry, pure fear coursing through him. This time Janet Granger jumped and through her tears turned to Harry. "The floo powder," he said, pointing to the small bag but never leaving Voldemort's gaze. "Get out of here."

Harry didn't see her, but she nodded and reached out to grab the small bag. As she did, Voldemort slowly turned his wand again, a smile on his face. Harry looked from the wand to Mrs. Granger and then back to Voldemort in quick succession.

"NO!' he cried, jumping forward as Mrs. Granger opened the small bag and Voldemort began to form the words of a curse on his lips.

"AVADA..."

Mrs. Granger took a pinch of the floo.

"...KEDAVRA!"

The green light of death shot out of Voldemort's wand. The last Harry saw of the fireplace was Mrs. Granger throwing the powder to the floor, before the light hit it and it exploded into a thousand pieces, casting rubble and dusty smoke into the air. Harry desperately wished the smoke would clear, and when it did, he sighed with relief at the empty fireplace, though it was destroyed. He could no longer escape, but Mrs. Granger had.

Voldemort was laughing as Harry reached down and picked up his wand quickly. "She will die eventually," hissed Voldemort, turning back to Harry.

"Not before you," whispered Harry, hatred and disgust in his voice.

Voldemort laughed again. "Yes," he mused. "I thought I'd have to suffer some small words of bravado from the hero before the end."

"I don't fear you, Voldemort..." said Harry slightly untruthfully.

"No...?" Voldemort stared deep into Harry's eyes and after a moment Harry felt the familiar probing spike of Legilimency. He did his best to put up his Occlumency shields but it was no good.

"Get out of my head," cried Harry, raising his wand. "Incendio," he shouted.

Voldemort didn't even move as the spell flew towards him. Harry realised why a moment later as the fire spell was reflected by a Protego shield charm protecting Voldemort. Harry cursed as his own spell came back at him and he barely dodged it in time.

This gave Voldemort the chance he needed. With a flick of his wand Harry felt every bone in his body go stiff, he couldn't move. Harry cried out as Voldemort effortlessly turned his wand to the right, and the bone in Harry's left arm did the same. There was a sickening crack as the bone snapped across his forearm and ripped through the flesh and skin, his blood splattering into the air. If Harry had had the power to move, he would have fallen to the ground from the pain.

"You have something of mine, Potter," hissed the Dark Lord.

Harry felt tears rolling down his cheek but he could do nothing about it. With another flick of his wand, Voldemort raised him into the air, where he still stood suspended. "My prophecy, Potter. You know of my prophecy."

Harry fought against the power of Voldemort's curse and slowly but surely lowered his neck so he could look Voldemort in the eye. "I'll never tell you it, Riddle."

Voldemort cried out in anger and threw Harry to the floor sharply with a simple flick of his wand. He cried out again and shoved his wand forward. To Harry it felt as if he had been hit in the face with a sledgehammer. He heard his nose crack and felt blood splatter down his face before the pain came. "ARGH..." he cried as Voldemort once again tightened his grip on Harry.

"I have other ways of making you talk. I can force it out of your mind, Potter. Tell me or suffer the pain," he shouted.

Harry spat out a mouthful of blood and rolled onto his side, coughing loudly. It was then that he realised he'd landed on his wand. He placed a finger on it and with a thought sent it back into the holster. He rolled back over and resumed coughing, both his broken nose and arm bleeding heavily. "Do your worst," shouted Harry through the pain and spat once more, but this time at Voldemort's robes.

"Very well, Harry. Again I must suffer the Gryffindor in you. You must know that, in the end, heroes always lose. They die trying, Harry. With your death the world will be thrown into chaos."

"Like it was when you killed, Fudge," croaked Harry. "You'll never make me tell you a thing...."

"Talk all you want, Potter. Magic has no laws with which to abide. You will break, just like young Ethan did."

Harry blinked once as Voldemort was swimming in and out of focus. He briefly realised he's lost his glasses, and was having trouble focusing on anything. It was then that the real pain started. "Legimens soltu rox" hissed Voldemort and Harry instantly felt some other presence in his mind, digging viciously for information.

Harry cried as it dug further and further, searching for the prophecy. He realised there was absolutely nothing he could do, no one was coming to save him. Voldemort would find the information, just like he had done with Ethan. The sharp spike dug to the deepest reaches of his mind, and Harry's weak Occlumency shields were torn down as if they were paper. And finally, when the pain had become blinding, there it was.

Harry felt the probe touch the prophecy, the words he had unfortunately committed to memory. He then felt a scraping in his throat and he opened his mouth. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...." Harry fought it, but Voldemort's magic was incredible, Harry's was a weak shadow in comparison. "... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..." Harry felt Voldemort's emotions of victory, satisfaction, and eagerness as he spoke the unknown parts of the prophecy.

"Yes..." hissed Voldemort.

"...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but- but he will... have power the Dark Lord knows not..." Harry saw with some satisfaction that Voldemort was no longer smiling. "...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...."

Harry coughed and sighed with relief as the probe spike was removed from his mind. It was short lived though as the pain in his nose and arm returned, along with the feeling of utter defeat. Voldemort had heard the prophecy.

Harry looked into the confused face of the Dark Lord for a moment as he put together what he had heard. He looked around himself, looking for anyway to escape. But he couldn't walk, could barely breath and he felt dizzy from all the effort and blood loss over the past few hours.

He was only scarcely aware of Voldemort turning to face him. "Yes..." he whispered. "It makes sense now. Why else would Fate draw us together so often?" Voldemort laughed and Harry felt pure fear flow through his veins. It was then that Voldemort turned deadly serious. "And either must die at the hand of the other...?" he said quietly.

"Yeah... that part pissed me off too," coughed Harry, his broken nose bleeding profusely.

"Silence, Potter," hissed Voldemort. Harry now saw the look of triumph upon his face Voldemort was sure he had won. He walked from the destruction of the front of the house, and over to Harry in three quick steps, kicking pieces of rubble and debris as he went.

Harry felt the cold wood of Voldemort's wand as it was trailed along his forehead. His scar burst with pain and he cried out anew. "Any final words, Potter?" asked Voldemort.

Harry was breathing heavily and his scar was burning viciously. He looked around at the destruction before turning back to look into the red, pitiless eyes of Voldemort. "Only one," said Harry, moving his right hand and resting it on his stomach, palm down. "Apyraceus!"

The world blurred and in the small time between blinking Harry went from looking into the face of death to looking into the cloudy sky. But something wasn't right.... He had felt a jarring during the Apparation; he wasn't where he'd planned to be. He wasn't at Hogsmeade. Harry lay there, not quite sure of where he was; only knowing that Voldemort wasn't here. And as the snow fell lightly onto his face, and the snow beneath him began to turn red with his blood, Harry finally gave up the fight and passed out.

*****