One Last Time

Is it any wonder why I'm scared?

So it comes down to this... me and Him... man to man, wand against wand, magic against magic. It is with this fight that we will see who is the tougher wizard. With this last duel I will either come out on top as the big hero again or die trying and leave the wizarding worlds to their dooms. Those are my only choices. And if I held that kind of power you know which one I'd choose.

To tell you the truth, I'm scared to death. More scared than I've ever been in my entire life; more than the first time I met Hagrid, more than my uncle, more than even the dementors could ever scare me. Maybe not the dementors. Voldemort could kill me and the a dementor could give me The Kiss and that is a fate worse than death.

On the outside I look calm and ready, but on the inside I'm trembling. Part of me feels I'm not ready and the other half is telling me I could never be more prepared.

I decide that determined in my mind, I will not lose this duel. The wizarding world's fate depends on it. Everyone I care for depends on it. My mother, my father, Cedric, and Sirius will not to have died in vain. They will live on inside of me for as long as I live. And that will be longer than tonight.

Moody told me to clear my mind of all emotion except for hate of Voldemort. That's what I'll need to kill him. Bellatrix told me in my fifth year you have to have a lot of anger toward someone in order to cause them pain. I had tried the Cruciatus curse on her but it hadn't worked as I'd wanted it too. There wasn't enough hate. Of course I hated her for killing Sirius but... there should be no 'buts.'

Remembering Sirius was easy. His shaggy, hairy face (when transformed to a dog) is what first comes to mind, the first time I saw him after blowing up my aunt. The always serious face he held and the calm power I wish I felt, makes me smile in spite of myself.

Cedric? Well, there isn't much to remember him by. I hardly had the chance to know him. He was kind and all the girls wanted him. I was never jealous excpet for when he took-- chose Cho before I could. We haven't talked much since that ride back to Hogwarts.

My father. My father's name is-- was -- James Potter. He was a brave, fun-loving, good man once he grew out of his immaturity. At least that's what I've heard from everyone. He was awful to Snape but deep down I hope I'm brave like he was. Dumbledore says he's living within me and survivng Voldemort the first time, was like a rebirth of James Potter.

I try to remember my mother... her screaming voice rings in my ears and I cover them in an effort to block out the bad memory.

No! Please! Not my Harry! Please, no, not Harry! I beg of you!

I feel myself getting slightly teary and kick myself mentally. You idiot, Harry. Knock it off and be a man! I remove my hands from my ears and violently wipe the god forsaken tears from my eyes.

Feeling like the walls are growing stronger

I don't know if this cage can hold me any longer

What scares me is that I can feel him inside of me. I can feel his power, Voldemort's power, his anger raging inside of me, in my vains. I feel him in my very skin. The pain is white-hot and fierce, beyond falling to my knees and screaming. It's rather annoying but I've dealt with worse pain. I can feel him growing stronger, everything around me feels like it's crumpling beneath me. Like the power inside of me is so strong that the ground will open up and suck me under.

You never dreamed you'd have to live your life so guarded

My whole life I've been under some secret service, people constantly watching me, guarding my life with their own, furtively or otherwise. And now no one can guard me, no one can save me or prepare me for the night ahead. Only I can save myself.

I'm not afraid of tomorrow

I'm only scared of myself

Feels like my insides are on fire

And I'm looking through the eyes of someone else

I'm not afraid of what will happen tonight... or after. I'm just wondering what will happen if our wands' magic collides like they did three years ago at the Triwizard Tournament. Can one of us really win? Will the power of the wands shaking become unbearable that one will give up and take the fall? Will we both die in the end? I never actually understood the part of Trelawny's prediction nearly eighteen years ago:

Neither can live while the other survives.

So Voldemort and I can't live if both of us survives the fight? Is he slowly killing me from the inside out? Is it the other way around?

It feels like I'm a different person and I'm seeing myself from above, from the cieling's point of view. I'm looking down on myself, criticizing every move, judging every thought, every sigh.

Everybody loves to be in on the pressure

But I know they're all waiting for the crash

All the students this week have been wishing me luck, some girls crying and sobbing on my shoulder, not saying anything; I guess giving me pity. All the boys have been slapping me on the shoulder and cheering me on... Like this is some great deed I'm doing, fighting off Voldemort. But do they have any idea how hard it will be on my real friends if I don't come back?

I can see Ron's tear stricken, unbelieving face opening and shutting like a guppy fish. I see him dropping to his knees with his face in his hands. It'd kill him. I see Hermione too. I see her dropping to her knees with her face in her hands. I see her sobbing at the ground over my dead body, screaming my name, her small, weak form crumpling from the inside. She's devastated. It would kill Ron, yes, but with Hermione, it'd destroy her. She has her hopes set on me. I won't let her down. I love her.

Everyone assumes I'll win, at least that's what their exterior auras say. But I know they're prepared for me to lose. They're waiting for the bad news.

I will go and I will fight with every bit of my soul. And if I die, bringing Voldemort down with me, than so be it. If that's not enough, I don't know what is.

I have to go. But I have to say good-bye to someone first. One last time.