HARRY POTTER AND THE SWORD OF THE HERO

Chapter 23 - The Way of the Hero

You have come into a hard world. I know of only one easy place in it, and that is the grave.

Henry Ward Beecher

Harry fell to the ground, his scar exploding with a blinding pain that caused him to cry out with an unearthly scream. It was noticed by no one but Dermas, though, as most of the High street was still locked in a state of terror over the current Dementor attack. Screams were common as people shakily got to their feet, those that could anyway. All the while Harry bit his lip against the pain, drawing blood.

"Merlin, Harry," whispered Dermas. "What the hell is happening? We have to get back to Hogwarts now!"

The pain in Harry's scar left as quickly as it had come; he opened his eyes and found himself staring into Dermas'. "Too late..." he croaked, sounding more regretful than scared. "He's here..."

The screams of the innocent on the street had died down to nothing. A cool, quiet wind blew up and through the street, a few dead leaves flying with it. It seemed as if the whole village, buildings and all, was waiting with baited breath for some unknown moment, in which Evil would enter their presence.

It happened an instant after Harry had stopped talking and picked himself up off the ground. Several loud, unmistakable pops broke the quietness that had settled on the wizarding village. Dermas grasped Harry's shoulder hard and dragged both of them back into the shadow of a shop – he had finally understood Harry.

More and more pops pierced the air and as a collective group, a scream of absolute terror tore up the street. Barely recovered from the Dementor attack, the dozens of people up and down the street despaired as the evil that plagued their world showed itself once more. Lord Voldemort, accompanied by at least one hundred and fifty Death Eater's, had Apparated onto the street, his presence known instantly from the wave of terror.

His appearance had effectively created a 'plug' at one end of the street. The exit that led to Hogwarts was now entirely blocked off from the High Street. Harry was about one hundred metres away from Voldemort himself, hidden with Dermas in the shadows, but he could still see the Dark Lord, and the seventy or so people that stood in between the two of them. The Death Eater's, Harry wasn't sure how many were there, stood behind their Master, silent in their black robes and masks.

Voldemort and his army did not move, did not make any sound. They stood in absolute silence, seemingly awaiting something. Harry knew what they wanted and also knew it was his duty, whether he wanted it or not, to give it to him. Since the time Harry had been hidden with Dermas to the time Voldemort appeared, only about fifteen seconds had passed. It was then that Voldemort made a graceful sweeping movement with his arm and Harry felt a long, hot, invisible wave of bitter magic pass right across the village of Hogsmeade. He wasn't sure what it was, but he could take a guess at an anti-Apparation ward.

The masses of innocents on the street remained fixed in a silent terror. People stood in the middle of the road, hanging out of shops, standing silently in fear. A few witches were slowly trying to make it into the Three Broomsticks, presumably to the floo fireplace in there. Harry had already begun formulating a plan as he saw this, and now grasped his wand tightly in his right hand, his hand only slightly shaking with the wind.

"Harry," whispered Dermas quickly, dangerously, his hand still grasping Harry's shoulder. "Apparate, Apparate now..."

He shook his head, grimly. "Didn't you feel it? Anti-Apparation wards..."

Dermas swore under his breath and his hand moved to the hilt of his sword strapped to his belt under his robes. "You know why he's here..."

"Of course," Harry smiled, belying the fear he felt. "Prophecy time..."

Harry made to move forward out of the shadows, but Dermas' grip held strong. He saw the people on the street beginning to move now, away form the road. "We have to get out of here!" he said fiercely. It was the most serious he had ever been.

"I can't do that," Harry said just as strongly. "If I leave it will be a massacre. Just like Diagon Alley, just like Abingdon."

"You can't take these chances with you life," Trask whispered, pulling Harry towards the side alley. Harry felt it was time to break free from his grasp. “You can’t possible beat him yet…”

"If I don't who will?" questioned Harry, knocking Dermas away. "Look, I have a plan..."

Trask paused and looked him up and down. He saw the undying determination in Harry's eyes, the acceptance. He slowly nodded and in an instant all of Dermas' memories of the First Dark War passed before his eyes. He had seen Voldemort only once before, in 1979. It was an experience he was happy to forget, and was lucky to have lived through. Now he was faced with that same evil, except this time Voldemort didn't look as human as he had done last time. "If you're going out there I'm coming with you."

Harry shook his head. "Not a chance. My battle, my enemy. You have to go get the Aurors. I can hold him back for a while, but I can't take him and the Death Eater's on alone. Get to the Ministry, Trask. Floo from the Three Broomsticks."

Harry's eyes held a light that showed wisdom far beyond his sixteen years. Dermas respected that and saw at that moment why many considered this boy to be the saviour, the hero of the world. He nodded slowly. "Not many would go and face him, Harry. I want you to promise me not to die."

Harry smiled grimly, seeing the weak humour in the joke. "I'm not promising anything," he said, taking a few steps forward.

"What are you going to do?" asked Trask, following Harry.

"Distract him... He'll talk first, play with me. The Death Eater's won't attack, he knows only he can kill me. That's why you have to get the Aurors here, and fast. Whether we like it or not the first major battle between both sides is going to be fought today." They had now stepped out of the shadows and a few people recognised Harry and gasped in surprise.

"Please tell me you know what you're doing..." Dermas said finally.

Harry shrugged, his eyes connecting with Voldemort's. "I know when you are walking through Hell," he said, taking a few steps forward, "to keep on going..."

Harry stepped out into the road, some wizards running across it out of harm’s way as he did. His new chest armour made him feel slightly braver. After reaching the centre of the road, he turned and stood alone. The road was now deserted, save for a few soulless bodies. The bystanders had now either run away in the opposite direction, jumped into shops or were hiding in various places, unable to Apparate. Not a one had stood against the fear, such as Harry had.

Voldemort's red, pitiless eyes fell on Harry and a smile crept across his snake-like face. The Death Eater's behind him stirred with anticipation. Harry took a few nervous steps forward, closing the gap between the two of them. Fear and magic were heavy in the air, so much so that Harry could taste it. He was about twenty metres away from the Dark Lord when he came to a stop.

*~*~*~*

Dermas had taken this opportunity to run across the road, knowing Voldemort wouldn't be interested in him, taking him for nothing more than another frightened victim. As quickly as he could he ran into the Three Broomsticks and growled with anger as he saw the fighting and struggling over the fireplace.

Bloody hell, he thought.

*~*~*~*

Harry and Voldemort stared deep into each others eyes. Neither was moving, neither was blinking, neither gave an inch. It was the Dark Lord that broke the silence on the street, taking a few steps across the icy ground, further narrowing the distance between them. His Death Eater's remained in place, filling up the road as far back as the path to Hogwarts.

"Harry James Potter," spat Voldemort, his voice full of venom. "A fool to leave the protection of your school." His wand was tight in his hand; both he and Harry knew they wouldn't be much good. Brother wands...

Harry smiled shakily, his stomach doing flips. He had never been so nervous. Remembering something Dumbledore had said back at the Ministry in June, Harry spoke. "The Aurors are on their way, Tom."

Voldemort's red eye's blazed with a fury unseen. Several of the Death Eater's from the group stirred angrily, but Voldemort silence them with a wave of his hand. "Yes I had thought I would have to suffer a few words of bravado, Potter. How characteristically Gryffindor."

"Thank you," growled Harry, choosing to take it as a compliment to further infuriate Voldemort and to buy time. He didn't like playing with fire, though. He glanced quickly to each side and saw a few witches and wizards sticking their heads out of shops, some looking on fearfully. "Couldn't fight me alone, Tom? What's with the loyal morons?"

Voldemort smiled now and that unnerved Harry. "As you told me, Potter... The Aurors are on their way."

Harry felt a moment of shock and knew it had spread to his face, he covered it up quickly. Voldemort had planned to start a battle today, he was expecting the Aurors. He was excited at the idea, death would rein. He cringed when realising that people were going to die today.

It was at this moment, as Harry stood alone against the Dark Lord and his army, a cloudy sky threatening a storm overhead, that he realised how far he had come over the past five years. Five years ago he had been eleven years old, living in a cupboard under the stairs. Unloved, barely cared for. It was a sad existence, but it had been a death-free one. Now he was facing down the most feared man in known history, no... most feared creature. It threw a lot into perspective, but he didn't have time for that now.

*~*~*~*

Dermas wrestled his way through the crowd and grabbed a pinch of floo powder from the pot above the fireplace. Pushing a young wizard out of the way, he stepped into the fireplace just as someone disappeared in green flames. Ignoring the anger from all those frightened people desperate to leave, Trask cast a nervous glance out of the window. He briefly saw Harry walking forward, before throwing the powder down hard. "Ministry of Magic!" he cried.

Dermas didn't stop the instant the floo spat him out in one of the many fireplaces placed in the Atrium of the Ministry. He ran, knocking a few people down as he burst through the crowds of Ministry employees. Dermas knew the Ministry well; he had trained Aurors once upon a time in sword techniques, and knew just where to find their offices. His emotions and adrenalin on high, Trask threw himself in to the elevator just as the doors were closing.

As the lift ascended, he paused to catch his breath. It was at this moment he realised he wasn't alone in the lift. Three other witches and wizards and a few paper memo's were there with him. The witches and wizards were looking at him strangely, as if he were unhinged. Trask gave them a lopsided smile, panting heavily and then burst forth from the doors of the lift when they opened to the Auror Division.

"HEY!" he cried, turning a corner and then running through a pair of heavy oak doors, emerging in a cluttered open area divided into cubicles. The area was alive with talk and laughter. Trask sprang forward once again; memo's shooting out of the cubicles. "HEY!" he shouted again.

At this half a dozen of the nearest Aurors stood up quickly, their wands instantly trained on Trask, suspicion heavy in their narrow eyes. These days you never knew what to expect, and being an Auror made you a target to the Dark Lord's servants.

"Bloody hell," cursed Trask, raising his hands, he was no match against the whole Auror division. "Listen," he turned to the nearest Auror. Most of the room had now stood up, and were watching the intruder carefully. "Voldemort," the Auror visibly flinched, "is attacking Hogsmeade."

No one moved, no one spoke. Trask sighed. "Did you hear me?" he shouted to the room at large. "The Dark Lord and his army are in Hogsmeade, right now. I don't think he's there for a drink at the Three Broomsticks."

An Auror was rushing through the crowds of people and cubicles and after a moment came up to Trask. "Dermas!" said Kingsley Shacklebolt, shock and surprise on the Order member's face.

"Shacklebolt," Trask said exasperated. He was one of the Aurors Trask had trained with a sword years ago. "Hogsmeade. Dark Lord. Death Eater's. Am I getting through to you?"

Shacklebolt nodded. "How many?" he asked in his gruff voice.

"I'd say about one hundred and fifty, just bring every Auror you can. Harry Potter needs help! I've already taken to long."

Kingsley's eyes widened. "Harry... Harry Potter?"

Dermas sighed. "Do you know another? He's there facing Voldemort alone."

Kingsley looked fearful for a moment but his years of training quickly hid that. "Right..." he whispered to himself. "Okay." Kingsley was second in command of the division now Arthur was Minister, the men and women in this room would listen to him. "Sonorus," he said pointing his wand at his throat. "AUROR SQUADS THREE THROUGH NINE ASSEMBLE IN THE ATRIUM IN TWO MINUTES. FULL BATTLE WEAR."

Immediately wizards and witches around the room began to move, some running for the lift, others the stairs, some the fireplace. Kingsley continued. "ONE AND TWO, HEALING POTIONS AND PORTKEY'S TO ST. MUNGO'S. TWO MINUTES IN THE ATRIUM."

Trask was impressed, although he didn't have time to show it. Auror's were running all over the place, but they all knew where they were going. It was all organised and within thirty seconds, two-thirds of the Auror Division was empty. Shacklebolt wasn't done, though, but Dermas spoke up first. "Anti-Apparation wards are in place, Kingsley," he said quickly, causing the Auror to curse.

"DAMN! OKAY. SPELL AND WARD BREAKERS. FLOO TO THE AUROR OUTPOST ON THE FAR SIDE OF HOGSMEADE. BRING DOWN THOSE ANTI APPARATION WARDS. GO NOW, YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES." Kingsley had now turned away, heading for the lift. Dermas followed him. "SQUADS TEN TO TWELVE. INFORM THE MINSTER OF THE SITUATION AND THEN INFORM ALBUS DUMBLEDORE AT HOGWARTS. THEN JOIN US AT HOGSMEADE."

Without even waiting for conformation Kingsley entered the lift, Dermas with him, and the two of them headed back to the Atrium of the Ministry.

When Dermas had come through from the floo place in Hogsmeade, the Atrium had been full of everyday people, bustling and shoving around, going about their business. How it looked now was a far cry from that.

All civilian personnel had been escorted out and in their place, standing in ten rows of fifteen, stood the Aurors, in their white robes with the crest of the Ministry upon their chests. All stood silent in the Atrium, facing the floo fireplaces. Kingsley ran to the front of the rows, every eye in the room following him. In his mind Kingsley was going through all the possibilities of what could occur. He wasn't happy with most of them.

Least of all this mission wasn't sanctioned by the Division leader, the Ministry Heads of Department, or by the Minister himself. Kingsley had taken it upon himself to lead one hundred and fifty Aurors into battle, without clearance. But that was the least of his worries now. Harry Potter fought alone, and there was no way to get his Aurors to Hogsmeade until those wards came down. Having not taken off the Sonorus spell yet, Kingsley informed the group of the situation.

There was no time for pleasantries; he just got straight into it. "AUROR SQUADS ONE THROUGH NINE. YOU HAVE BEEN GATHERED HERE TO ANSWER THE THREAT OF THE DARK LORD AND HIS ARMIES. APPROXIAMTELY FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO YOU-KNOW-WHO AND AN ESTIMATED ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY DEATH EATER'S APPEARED IN THE VILLAGE OF HOGSMEADE. AT THE MOMENT THE VILLAGE IS INACCESSABLE DUE TO ANTI-APPARATION WARDS." Kingsley paused and caught his breath. "BREAKER DIVISION IS THERE NOW. PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR A FULL SCALE BATTLE. WE LEAVE AS SOON AS THE WARDS ARE DOWN."

That was it, nothing more was said. Kingsley gently tried to Apparate but felt the resistance of the wards. He turned to Dermas to ask him what Harry was doing, and found the man standing with his blade drawn.

After taking the Sonorus spell off himself, Kingsley approached Dermas. "What is Harry trying to do?" he whispered furiously.

Trask smiled grimly. "He's trying to end a war."

*~*~*~*

"You came looking for a fight, Tom?" asked Harry, his wand pointed straight at the Dark Lord's face. The constant use of Voldemort's long ago name was giving Harry courage, but at the same time infuriating the most evil creature in existence.

"Indeed, Potter," spat Voldemort, his wand equally trained on Harry. "I was told I could find my equal here, and here you are. I figure I can destroy you and the Auror's at once."

Harry's eyes twitched. He was so confident, while Harry felt understandably nervous. Still trying to stall for time, Harry took a few steps to his left. Voldemort and every other pair of eyes in the street followed him. "Then what are you waiting for?" he growled.

Voldemort's face grew with amusement. A smile spread across his white skeleton face. "Very well... let us duel, Harry Potter."

Harry fell into the duelling stance he felt most comfortable with. Dermas had taught it to him. He wondered briefly if the Auror's had been alerted yet. God I hope so, he thought, but then gave his complete attention back to Voldemort.

"Bow to death, Harry," whispered Voldemort, Harry heard him and a vicious memory of Cedric flew through his mind. The Dark Lord didn't wait any longer, using the moment Harry was lost in his memories, he struck mercilessly. "Crucio!"

Harry didn't even see it coming, he was on the floor as every nerve in his body exploded with pain, blinding and burning. A thousand white hot knives stabbed him repeatedly, again and again. Through the pain he saw the beam of red light that connected him to Voldemort's wand, he saw the manic look on his enemies face, he saw the mass of Death Eater's behind him laughing.

The pain increased and Harry felt his mind slipping away from it. It was at this moment that Harry wondered briefly where the rest of Voldemort's Death Eater's were. Only one hundred and fifty were here, Harry knew for a fact there were at least one hundred more... But that thought was forgotten as a fresh wave of the most excruciating pain imaginable enveloped him, and Harry screamed into the cold air.

The citizens of Hogsmeade watched helplessly from their hiding places as the Dark Lord tortured Harry. Not a one moved as they were all frozen in terror, all unable to tear their eyes from the scene in front of them. He was just a boy, a boy who was feeling the fury of the Dark Lord and no one could help him. Fear was, and would always be, Voldemort's biggest weapon.

Harry gasped for air as his voice grew hoarse from screaming. His scar split and began to bleed but Harry didn't notice it, he had bigger problems. The pain of the Cruciatus was everywhere; he couldn't find relief from it. It was when he realised this, that he realised Voldemort wouldn't break the connection. He no longer had any reason to. Prophecy had ordained that one of them would die by the other's hand. If Voldemort damaged his mind with the curse, he presented no threat. Merlin... Harry thought. I've lost...

A blinding white light filled his vision, and nothing penetrated it. He was completely blind to the world, and deaf. His very being was still being ripped asunder from the curse, but Harry accepted that now. He knew the end was coming, that it was inevitable... but something happened then that he didn't expect.

Harry felt it only subtly at first, but almost instantly it blossomed into something more. His magic, the pure magic passed down through generations from whatever force had bestowed it upon Godric Gryffindor, was angry. Harry didn't know how to describe this feeling. He just knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his magic was furious. Maybe it was in response to the unearthly amounts of pain from the Cruciatus, which Harry had now been under for four minutes, though to him it felt like an eternity. Whatever reason he was pissed, and therefore his magic had responded to that emotion, taken on one of its own.

Harry felt it coming a moment before it did.

The pure magic broke through the barrier that had stopped it in his mind and seeped into every part of his body. It was the unused, untouched magic that Minra Algren, the pure magic scholar, had told him about a week ago, after he had touched the Seeing Glass. The pain from the Cruciatus stopped instantly, but the connection was still there, he could feel it even though he was blind to everything else. There should be pain, but there wasn't. Not all the magic in him was realised or released at that moment, but an extraordinary amount of it was. It warmed Harry as he felt the invisible substance flowing through him like a river. It made him feel powerful, too powerful for his liking, but it would do for now.

Harry opened his eyes and found himself on the cold ground of Hogsmeade, the Dark Lord still standing over him, the red beam of the Cruciatus still connecting him to Voldemort's wand. Harry knew he was supposed to be feeling unbearable pain, but all he felt was a dull ache. No time to ponder it, though, apparently he had rewritten the rules again, but he wasn't complaining.

Surprisingly Harry still felt his wand in his right hand and it was then, with the power of his magic coursing through him like an untamed river, that Harry Potter fully accepted his place in the world, his purpose for being. He was alive to kill, to end Voldemort's life. He was the champion of the wizarding world, or will be by the time he's done. Prophecy may have decided this, but that no longer mattered to Harry. He had long since grown tired of innocent people suffering and dying at the hand of Voldemort, he knew he would fight now even if there was no prophecy.

The world had lived in fear for long enough, too long had Voldemort gone unchallenged by the population, too long had he reached for immortality. Too long had he been a walking plague upon this Earth. So with that in mind, Harry's grip tightened on his wand, and he took the fight back to Voldemort.

Harry rose heroically to his feet, shocking everyone who was watching. Most had assumed that he had long ago fallen under the madness of the Cruciatus, but no. Harry Potter had surpassed them all yet again, surviving the curse intact for nine minutes.

Shaking his head of weariness, Harry's green eyes met red.

Voldemort broke the connection of the Cruciatus curse and took a quick step back. "Impossible, madness should have claimed you, Potter."

"I am the impossible, Tom," Harry whispered, taking a step forward and brandishing his wand. "Incendio!" he shouted.

Flames tore through the air but Voldemort quickly sidestepped them. His speed was unnatural but Harry didn't have time to think about that as he dodged another Cruciatus curse, his magic tingling with the excitement of battle.

Several Death Eater's behind Voldemort made to move forward, but he stopped them with a wave of his hand. Voldemort and Harry, Dark Lord and Hero, Slytherin and Gryffindor, surveyed each other impenetrably. Their eyes bored into one another, and slowly they circled the ground, wand's heavy in their hands. After a moment, in which all present held their breath, Voldemort spoke.

"You will die," Voldemort said, bringing his wand up to be level with Harry's heart. "You will die painfully."

"Death doesn't frighten me," Harry said and was surprised that what he had said held some truth. He had been so close to death so many times that he was no longer scared of the prospect. Harry was mindful of the audience of innocent witches and wizards, who had stopped trying to flee and were now watching the exchange between the two enemies. Some had even come out of their hiding places for a better look at this moment, but they did not matter. To Harry all that mattered was the coming duel.

"Dumbledore teach you not to fear death, boy?" scoffed Voldemort.

Harry smiled grimly. "No, Tom... you did."

Voldemort's eyes blazed with an awesome fury that would have sent anyone else to their knees, but Harry held his ground. "Vestic!" hissed Voldemort.

Harry brought his wand up quickly and with a sweeping gesture, created the strongest shield charm he could. Not knowing the spell Voldemort had used, Harry didn't know what to expect. The purple light collided with Harry's shield and both of them exploded in a ball of blue flames, disappearing to nothing. The force knocked Harry back a few steps but he recovered quickly.

"Incendio!" he cried again, a massive torrent of flame shooting through the air towards the Dark Lord.

Voldemort raised his wand and muttered something Harry didn't catch, but suddenly the flames heading towards him turned to ice, and fell to the ground harmlessly, shattering into a thousand pieces. "Imperio!" called Voldemort, using the first Unforgivable of the match.

Harry threw himself backwards and landed hard on the ground, the curse flying over him, barely brushing his robes. Cobblestones on the street exploded next to him as Voldemort, with his inhuman speed, rained down dark curses one after the other. He dodged, rolling right and coming up in a defensive crouch. But Voldemort held the offensive now, and it was all Harry could do to avoid his barrage of deadly curses.

"Protego!" Harry said quickly, using the brief protection to get to his feet. "Vestic," he said, repeating the curse from only a few minutes a go. The purple light shot from his wand and Harry knew that it was dark magic. But he didn't care.

The curse missed, of course, as Voldemort's shield absorbed it. Harry swore under his breath as Voldemort laughed.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry ran to the right as fast as he could to avoid the wall of green light, the wall of death. It collided with the ground behind him and the cobblestones were once again thrown into the air, destroyed into dust. The impact was deafening and it threw Harry to the ground, but thankfully the curse missed him. The innocent people on the street gasped in shock and terror at this, but many sighed with relief as Harry got back up.

"Crucio," cried Voldemort and Harry fell to one knee under the curse. This time the pain was there but it wasn't as bad. He managed to remain standing on one knee. It had begun to rain now and Harry wiped the water off his glasses, before standing again still under the Cruciatus.

Raising his wand, Harry cried. "Soroxim!"

Voldemort's Cruciatus instantly broke and Harry stood up with a new strength. He ran back towards Voldemort, his wand glowing at the tip as he did.

"Gostagicus!"

Long, slimy, green vines grew out of Voldemort's wand and he brandished them like a whip. A crack rang through the air as he flicked his wand and the three vines, which were razor sharp, tore across Harry's chest as he ran. Harry stopped running, and some of the Death Eater's cheered. He didn't know why.

Voldemort was sure he had just won. Those vines he had used as whips could cut through steel, and would have torn right through Potter. Harry looked down at his chest, and saw the cloth of his robe fall away, completely torn to shreds. This made his entire robe fall away, revealing his black jeans and shirt, exposing his bare arms. Voldemort saw this and howled with anger as he saw through the cut's also on Harry's shirt. He was wearing-

I am glad I bought that armour Harry thought to himself. "Vestic!" he shouted, recovering quickly – not knowing the curse but guessing if it was in Voldemort’s arsenal, and directed towards him, then it wasn’t anything pleasant.

Voldemort stepped forward and raised his wand, still attached to the vines and sent them crackling through the air. The thorny vines connected with the dark spell and both spells exploded, sending showers of sparks everywhere.

The duel became a blur to Harry. He wasn't sure how much time had passed as spells and curses melded into one another. Fire and destruction rained down on the street from where the two enemies duelled. The innocent watched with wide, hopeful eyes on one side, while the Death Eater's watched from the other side. And there was still no sign of the Aurors.

And Harry, for the life of him, did not know how he was holding his own. Only a few short months ago in the Department of Mysteries had he watched Voldemort battle Dumbledore, and this duel was just as intense. He should have been wiped off the board in the opening minutes, yet here he was – still going strong.

It was frightening, his magic was fuelling his very soul.

Harry deflected a fireball charm, but unfortunately that sent it into the front window of Honeydukes. The duel was moving so fast Harry didn't even notice as the wooden building exploded, splinters of wood and glass flying up into the air and raining down upon the town. It was also raining sweets.

For Harry, curses were exchanged back and forth so fast they were barely uttered before another took its place. His magic had grown so much it was frightening. So far none of the spells used had caused the brother wand affect, for which Harry was thankful, but he didn't want to push his luck. Minutes passed but it felt like hours. The street had become a mess of cobblestones and debris in those few minutes and Harry began to feel the strain, even though his magic had grown so much. Where the hell were the Aurors...?

*~*~*~*

Kingsley paced the Atrium with Dermas restlessly. Twelve minutes had passed since he had sent the ward breakers to Hogsmeade and so far no luck. In his stomach was the gnawing feeling that Voldemort could have killed Harry a hundred times over in the time they were taking to get there.

Dermas swore angrily and tried once again to Apparate. Nothing, the wards were in place, they were too strong. He had left Harry to die.

The one hundred and fifty Aurors still stood to attention, nerves clearing showing on some of their faces. Tonks stood in the group on the far left, and she was desperate for something to happen. Her hair was a bright blue with anticipation, and she chewed her fingernails nervously. Come on... she thought.

"That's it," said Trask. "I'm flooing back. Follow me if you can, just get there quickly."

"Wait," said Kingsley, but it was too late. Trask stepped into one of the many fireplaces and picked up a pinch of floo. "The Three Broomsticks," he said. Flames roared up but Trask did not disappear, the flames died down. "DAMN IT!"

"It's being used from the other end, or destroyed," said Shacklebolt. "It's the wards or nothing..."

*~*~*~*

Harry was panting heavily, blood dripped down his face from his scar. Several other cuts on his arms, and one on his neck, were also bleeding but thankfully nothing was too serious. He and Voldemort had ceased the spell work, and were now circling a patch of the torn up ground, their eyes darting to and fro.

"You have grown, Harry," Voldemort said, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"In hopes of killing you," Harry replied calmly. He cast a quick glance around the street and what he saw shocked him. Honeydukes was in flaming ruins; the cobblestones of the road and path were destroyed and upturned in many places. Several benches and rubbish bins were alight, and many lampposts were bent out of shape. Harry was even more shocked when he realised that some of the spells he had cast had caused some of the damage.

"Pelius sox trux," whispered Voldemort, and the bench to his left shimmered and transfigured into a large green snake with pitiless red eyes, much similar to its master's.

"Attack," hissed Voldemort in parseltongue, only Harry understood him.

The long snake slithered forward, hissing menacingly. Harry took a few steps back but the snake was incredibly fast – it struck out at him faster than his eyes could see and sunk its fangs deep into Harry's upper right arm, causing him to drop his wand.

Harry cried out with pain and brought his left arm around. "Incendio," he growled, wincing. The snake exploded in a ball of red flames.

Harry rolled into a dive, picking up his wand with his left hand as he did. As he came back up, he pulled one of the snake's fangs out of his arm, hardly noticing the pain. Voldemort hadn't been idle, though. He had seen the wandless magic Potter had just performed and decided to end this now.

He once again brandished his wand like a whip, and just as Harry was raising his own wand, Voldemort brought it down fast and hard. Immediately Harry felt a constricting weight across his entire body. Invisible, hard ropes held him in place and pinned his arms to his sides, effectively leaving him at Voldemort's mercy. "Oh damn..." he breathed, turning to look up into Voldemort's face.

Voldemort smiled and without another moment's hesitation fired the most Unforgivable of curses. "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry saw the green light of death coming his way, saw the inevitability of the future. It was going to hit and he was powerless to stop it. A thousand unfinished images of his life passed before his eyes, so many hard times all became a jumble as his vision was completely enveloped by the green light.

It was a mere inch away from his face, the cold curse of death, he could smell it, hear it, and feel its untamed power. But there was also another wave of power that was completely unrelated to the killing curse and Harry's eyes widened when he felt it. And then he Apparated.

POP!

Harry reappeared instantly one metre to his left, and the curse shot passed him at an amazing speed, the force knocking him to the floor. It collided with one of the many thatched cottages in the village, disintegrating the wood of its front and causing the building to go up in green flames. Harry smiled in spite of himself, he was alive and the invisible ropes binding him were gone. But that wasn't all...

One hundred and fifty loud pops radiated up and down the High Street of Hogsmeade and one hundred and fifty Aurors came with them. Harry laughed out loud as he saw them, not willing to believe that he'd held off Voldemort long enough to protect the people of the village and get the Aurors here.

It was the ultimate standoff.

Harry rose to his feet, weary from his duel with Voldemort. One hundred and fifty Aurors were at one end of the street, one hundred and fifty Death Eater's at the other and in the middle stood one Dark Lord and one teenage boy.

*~*~*~*

Albus Dumbledore paced his study calmly, watching the rain fall lightly against his window. Beyond the window the forest swayed in the wind and the village of Hogsmeade couldn't be seen for the clouds and sheets of rain.

As he did most of the time, Dumbledore was thinking of Harry. More accurately of Harry's fate. It was a cruel twist of fate that had led him to the defeat of Grindelwald all those years ago, he had never quite recovered. But the hand Fate had dealt Harry was a thousand times worse. One trial after another and the boy somehow pulled through miraculously, stronger than before. He wondered briefly if Harry would one day take too much and finally crack under the immense weight constantly placed on his shoulders.

Albus looked up as Fawkes shrilled twice from his golden perch. One hundred years spent with the amazing creature and Dumbledore had come to understand his calls. Someone was coming through the floo. He turned towards the fireplace and folded his hands neatly in front of himself.

Sure enough a moment later the fire roared to life in a torrent of green flames and sparks. With the flames came the twirling form of a person and after they stopped spinning Dumbledore's brow creased.

"Headmaster," said the man quickly, bowing slightly to Albus.

"Hello, Rollins," smiled Dumbledore, remembering his old student, who, just like most, would always call him Headmaster. Rollins had left Hogwarts eight years ago, he had become an Auror. "What can I do for you?"

*~*~*~*

Harry looked between the three separate groups of people on the street. To his right stood the Death Eater's, wands now out pointed at the group to his left, the Aurors. Harry saw Dermas at the front of this group with Kingsley Shacklebolt. They were all looking around unbelievingly at the destruction on the street and then between Harry and Voldemort themselves. The third and final group was that of the innocent bystanders, who now had enough sense to try and get out of the way. This was not going to be pretty.

Turning back to his enemy, Harry saw Voldemort looking right at him and then he smiled, causing his skeleton like face to look even more manic. This was what he wanted. A slaughter... and from the looks of things he was going to get it.

Breathing heavily, Harry watched as the most senior Auror present stepped forward, hesitating for only a moment. It was Kingsley.

"Lord V-Voldemort," shouted Kingsley, and Harry winced when he stumbled on saying the name. Voldemort didn't even turn to face him, everything was deathly quiet as the Dark Lord continued to stare straight at Harry. "I, as a representative of the Ministry of Magic and of wizarding Britain, do hereby order you to cease any and all hostile activity and to surrender your wand and order your servants to do the same."

Harry might have laughed if the situation hadn't been so serious. He heard some of the Death Eater's mumble curses under their breath. Voldemort didn't even blink.

"And if I refuse, Auror?" questioned Voldemort, his eyes and wand still trained on Harry.

Kingsley paused for a moment but then found his voice. "We will be forced to use any means at our disposal to resolve this," he looked around at the flaming street, "conflict..."

"Very well," nodded Voldemort and as if that was the cue the Death Eater's had been waiting for, the biggest battle fought in wizarding Britain in the past seventeen years began.

Harry threw himself to the ground a moment before it happened. Hundreds of curses were shouted instantly as Aurors and Death Eater's alike raised their wands to fight. Harry was pinned to the ground, unable to move as the magical force of three hundred separate curses was astonishing. Greens, reds, blues, purples, whites, oranges, yellows, and brown curses flew through the air in a magnificent rainbow of deadly colours.

It was at once the most amazing and sickening thing Harry had ever seen. The curses met in the middle as the forces of light and darkness moved about the street, some firing a second curse to join their first. The effect was instantaneous and the heat burned the skin off Harry's cheek. The inevitable happened and as the curses collided in the middle, they were deflected in every direction imaginable.

To Harry it sounded like the end of the world.

Hundreds of curses colliding in mid-air, most were deflected straight up into the sky, before turning around and beginning to rain back down on the five hundred or so people, Aurors, Death Eater's, and civilians, none were spared. The curses came back down in a rain of magical missiles, mixing with the magic of others they became mostly destructive curses. Spells hit buildings, tore up the cobblestone road, destroyed bins and benches, burnt trees to the ground, and killed dozens.

Getting over his initial shock at the wild rain of curses, Harry only just managed to raise a shield charm to protect him against the worst of the fall. Screams rang out from those unable to defend themselves – Aurors and Death Eaters fell dead.

Harry breathed in heavily, coughing on the heavy smoke and dust in the air. With an effort he stood up and beheld the battle around him.

The two forces, light and dark, good and evil, charged at each other mercilessly, stepping over the fallen bodies of their friends, allies. Harry was, quite simply, washed away in the tide. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, holding onto his wand for dear life.

With the barrage of curses and the constant movement of the battle, Harry had lost sight of Voldemort. With a wrench he pulled himself free of a crowd of Aurors and Death Eater's, stunning one as he did, and ran out onto the road. There was a little more room to breathe out here but Harry still had to dodge curses as they flew back and forth.

He looked around quickly, searching for the Dark Lord... but there was too much destruction and fighting going on. Voldemort could be anywhere on the street by now, killing Auror's.

"Reducto," he cried, turning around and blasting a Death Eater through the air.

Voldemort... where the hell are you?

Smoke and ash were heavy in the air and Harry coughed, running up into the heart of the street towards the Three Broomsticks. He had to fight his way there, but this was a whole new battle. No one paid any particular attention to him, he was just another face in the crowd. Surprisingly, that made it easier to get where he was going. He stunned another Death Eater as he went, panting heavily at the exhaustion of the fight.

Screams and cries echoed down the street and through Harry's mind. Fighters on both sides fell, littering the ground with their bodies. Harry shook his head to block out the death and again looked around for Voldemort. He was nowhere to be found, Harry couldn't see him anywhere on the street. Coward, he thought, protecting himself against a curse with a new shield charm.

Destruction was absolute on the High Street now. Shops and cottages exploded in balls of flame, all different colours. The road and cobblestone pavement was ripped and blasted apart; the Three Broomsticks was still undamaged, though. With a frustrated sigh, Harry turned around once again to look for Voldemort and had just broken into a run when a blasting curse exploded before him. He was thrown back hard through the air and landed with a crack on the road ten yards away.

Harry sucked in a sharp breath and grasped his wand tightly. He gently pushed his chest and then cringed. Broken ribs. How many he wasn't sure, but they hurt like hell. The force of the fall, even with the armour, had broken them on impact. With a heavy cough Harry rolled over and tried to get to his feet but needed another moment to catch his breath.

"Reparo," he said from the ground, repairing the cracks in his glasses. It was then that he felt two pairs of hands grasp him tightly under each of his arms and begin to drag him away. At first Harry was surprised and pained, he winced as his arms were moved and disturbed the snapped ribs. His second instinct was that of danger, looking up he saw two familiar faces and all sense of danger left for now.

Dermas and Tonks dragged Harry towards one of the alcoves underneath the partially destroyed Zonko's joke shop. Tonks had one arm under his and was firing curses into the fray with the other. Dermas was doing the same. Harry was able to watch the battle momentarily as the pair dragged him to safety.

The two forces had melded together into one. White robes mixed with black robes, cries and grunts were heard as curses killed or maimed. At least half of the Death Eaters still remained and maybe a little more for the Aurors. It was then that Harry caught sight of Voldemort, standing alone at the far end of the street, where his Death Eaters had stood originally. He was at the Hogwarts end of Hogsmeade, standing unchallenged as he surveyed the battle before him.

As Harry watched, he saw Voldemort look up to the cloudy sky and Harry's own eyes followed him. What he saw made him swear loudly, though it was drowned out by the noise of battle. What Harry had originally took for birds, flying high in the clouds, were actually revealed to be something quite different now they flew lower. Twenty Death Eater's were seated on brooms, Firebolts from the looks of them, and had just begun to rain down curses on the unsuspecting Aurors below.

This would quickly turn into a one sided battle.

Tonks and Dermas dragged Harry under the shadow of the shops window and dropped him a little roughly. He coughed and winced as his ribs twinged with pain. Tonks leaned down next to him and quickly erected a complex shield charm. Dermas blasted a Death Eater away.

"HARRY!" cried Tonks. "STAY HERE BEHIND THE SHIELD."

Her voice was the most serious Harry had ever heard it, but he still shook his head and made an attempt to stand up. Tonks pushed him back down, her now green hair shimmering red angrily. Harry saw Dermas unsheathe his sword and push it through a nearing Death Eater. Harry shook his head, knowing that it was either him or them. He made another move to get up.

"HARRY! STAY DOWN FOR MERLIN’S SAKE," yelled Tonks, pushing him down again.

"NO!" Harry replied, his eyes blazing angrily. "I'VE GOT TO GO FIGHT HIM."

Tonks blinked and shook her head, though a little uncertainly. The dustbins to her left exploded in flames and rubbish was flung asunder. Harry raised his wand and shot an Incendio charm over Tonks' shoulder, she ducked slightly and Harry's spell connected with an advancing Death Eater, ending his life.

Harry gritted his teeth and rose shakily to his knees. Tonks again made a move to stop him but Harry pushed her back. "HARRY..." she said warningly. "LET US AURORS HANDLE IT."

Harry saw that Dermas had rejoined the battle, running down the street with a sword in one hand and a wand in the other. He looked quite powerful. Harry turned back to Tonks. "HANDLE IT?" he scoffed. The battle had turned in favour of the Death Eater's as those on brooms were killing Aurors untouched. They were slowly being pushed back towards the Three Broomsticks. Voldemort still stood alone unchallenged at the roads end. "GET OUT OF MY WAY, TONKS," he said angrily, standing quickly and ignoring the pain in his ribs.

The pure magic in him responded to his violent emotions. It was already on high from all the battle and from whatever the hell had happened during that Cruciatus curse god knows how long ago. Tonks tried to get near him, to push him back down, but found that she couldn't. There was an invisible barrier around him, stopping her from touching him.

Harry just looked at her, hoped she would be alright, and took a few steps forward out into the road. He heard her calling behind him but he paid it no heed. Looking up into the air, he saw the twenty or so Death Eater's on brooms, the leverage in this battle, flying quickly and dangerously over the fight, shooting curses every now and again. He ducked as one flew almost right into his head.

Harry stood behind a group of Aurors that where holding the line on the street, keeping the advancing Death Eater's at bay, but it was fast becoming hopeless. The forces of darkness held the advantage in this battle, they held the air. Something I'm going to change, thought Harry. Amidst the shouts of curses, the screams of pain, and the explosion of buildings, Harry raised his wand at the nearest flying Death Eater.

With a grim smile on his face, Harry flourished his wand and shouted. "Accio Broom!"

He had done it earlier in the year, in his death-defying flight to Hogwarts. It had worked then and it worked now. The broom slid out from underneath the Death Eater, as he only had one hand on it, and shot through the air towards Harry. The previous owner of the broom plummeted to the ground. He wasn't that high so Harry assumed he had lived.

Harry caught the broom with a twirl in his left hand, pocketing his wand deep in his jeans as he did. A weak fireball spell hit him in the back as he began to mount the broom but thankfully the dragon armour pulled through for him again. As he had thought, the broom was a Firebolt. He felt it respond immediately under his touch as he kicked off from the ground hard.

As he ascended, Harry briefly thought about the Quidditch practice he was supposed to be attending later on tonight. Probably cancelled, he thought with a sigh, wiping his glasses clean of rain and dirt. Harry soared up above the town and was soon higher than any other. Looking down at the battle he sighed again. Aurors and Death Eater's alike littered the once snow white street of Hogsmeade. It was now stained red with the blood of fallen fighters and innocent bystanders. Harry could see people running all over the village, most away from the High Street as fast as they could. Looking into the distance, he could just barely make out the shape of Hogwarts through the rain.

Harry turned his attention back to the battle and the flying Death Eater's that were pushing the Aurors back into a corner. He pushed the broom down hard and accelerated to sixty in a few seconds. He saw his first flying victim directly beneath him and in a few seconds Harry shot passed him, pulling out of the dive just before he hit the ground and a group of Aurors, soaring back into the air. The Death Eater he'd skimmed fell to the ground, his broom quickly summoned from under him as Harry had flown past.

Dermas battled against two Death Eater's outside the Hogsmeade branch of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The building was alight in several places, but inside it was deserted. The staff had used the floo to escape. Raising his sword Dermas deflected a bone-breaking curse and sent one back of his own. His sword was wrought of magic so it remained undamaged from the curse. His first enemy fell with a broken neck, the other when he was pierced on the end of the sword.

Pulling his blade clean of the Death Eater, Dermas looked up in time to see Harry fly past overhead, knocking an unsuspecting Death Eater from his broom. Dermas cheered and smiled. God that kid doesn't know when to quit, he thought, returning to the battle.

The numbers of Death Eater's and Aurors had thinned dramatically now, both sides fighting with only a few dozen members. The Death Eater's still held the advantage with the air, though, but Harry was taking care of that.

Harry swooped and swerved, using his natural born flying skills to dodge curses and send some of his own back. He dislodged seven Death Eater's from their Firebolts. One after another they fell and Harry remained unscathed. But as number eight plummeted to earth, the other flyers began to realise what was going on and all of them concentrated their attacks on Harry.

Twelve Death Eater's chased Harry through the air, following his every move, shooting curses from behind their masks. He soared across several streets and back, through the thick black smoke rising from the flames of ruined cottages, but nothing could shake them. A blasting curse connected with the twigs of the broom, destroying a few of them, but the Firebolt could take it. The damage wasn't too bad and Harry shot a curse of his own back into the group of twelve following him. His connected and the power in it sent three Death Eater's from their brooms. From the height they were flying at they wouldn't survive.

Another curse, dark blue, grazed his ear and Harry instantly felt woozy. He fell a few metres and only just corrected himself, coming to his senses before flying into a building. With his heart beating fast and exhaustion threatening to claim him, Harry turned upwards sharply and managed to shake a few of his attackers, but not all.

Right he thought. Let's try something... Harry thought back a month ago to the nightmare that was Abingdon, the massacre that was Abingdon. He had used a technique there in which the magic of a curse was left at the top of his wand and then joined by another and another, creating a more powerful version of the spell. His eyes fell on the group of advancing Death Eater's down on the street, about thirty five strong and driving the Aurors back. They were clustered in a big group. Perfect... Harry thought grimly. It was the perfect opportunity, but many could die. Deciding the pros far outweighed the cons, Harry pushed his broom hard further up into the sky, leaving his attackers behind as he flew higher and higher.

At the speed at which a Firebolt could fly, it didn't take long for him to reach the low hanging clouds; Harry disappeared into one of them, immediately soaked in the rain and moisture of the storm cloud. It was freezing in there, but it was also the perfect cover. He hovered just inside the cloud, drenched from head to toe and shaking slightly in the cold.

With his wand in his hand Harry concentrated on the spell he would use. The Reductor Curse, the blasting curse. Harry thought the magic, willed it to the end of his wand. It happened just like he hoped it would. The tip began to glow red with the power of the spell. Harry took a deep breath, concentrated and then added another.

Two minutes past like this and in that time Harry added twenty two blasting spells to the end of his wand. The power was enormous, the light from the tip blinding. The heat coming off the spells was enough to negate the cold of the clouds and air. His wand shook violently under his grasp from the amount of raw power coursing through it – begging for release.

Harry knew this super spell had the power to take out the group of advancing Death Eater's, he knew it would probably kill some of them, knew it would be an enormous drain on his power. He knew all of this and he accepted it. It was his job to fight, he'd promised himself that many times. If someone was foolish enough to become a Death Eater then they would be shown no mercy over the lives of the Aurors.

With that in mind, that shaky justification for what was to come, Harry pointed his broom towards the ground, thousands of feet below, and held his shaking wand tightly. He could feel the electricity of the storm in the clouds around him, the moisture building. It was about to break.

Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then dropped to the ground. He flew out of the cloud fast, gained speed even faster, and dropped towards Hogsmeade at a speed never before reached on a broomstick. The wind from the fall was so much that it blew the moisture from his soaked clothes and dried his drenched hair. The storm broke behind him, and lightning flashed and forked across the sky. Thunder roared as Harry opened his eyes, one hand held tightly to the broom, the other to his glowing, shaking wand.

The village approached fast and Harry saw the lights of the duelling curses below. As he dropped even further he made out the shapes of his target.

Thirty five Death Eater's carried on up the street mercilessly, as the Aurors desperately tried to portkey the injured away while still attacking. They weren't doing well. This hardened Harry's resolve and with a final nod to himself, he got ready to release his curse.

Lightning, rain, and thunder all mixed into one behind him as he cut a path down through the raging storm. The village was coming up fast now and Harry was travelling at an awesome speed. The bubbling power at the end of his wand was desperate for release, the wood was so hot under his hand. The sound of the battle reached his ears first and with a fierce determination in his eyes, Harry released the power of his blasting curse.

"REDUCTO!" he bellowed, pointing his wand forward, directly into the heart of the group of Death Eater’s.

The effect was instant, vicious, and powerful. It simply detonated. The red curse exploded out of the end of Harry's wand, untamed power spilled out in the form of crimson light. It exploded from the tip; his wand went with it, splintering into a thousand fragments. Most of them cutting into his hand, tearing it to shreds.

Harry didn't have time to think about that, though. The shockwave from the curse, as the beam of red light plummeted to the ground, sent Harry spiralling backwards on the broom and it took his all to hang on as he rocketed back up into the sky. With the world spinning crazily on the broom for Harry, he didn't see the curse's impact, but he sure as hell heard it.

BOOM!

The thick, unbreakable beam of red curse light came down into the centre of the group of Death Eater's. It enveloped one of them instantly, his form simply disintegrating. When it hit the ground, the beam kept falling and seemingly disappeared into the earth, the destroyed cobblestones showing no sign of it. Everything was quiet, not a soul on the street moved. Voldemort remained standing behind the army, his eyes jumping to the spinning form of Harry on his broomstick high up in the sky to the group of Death Eater's in the vicinity of where the curse had disappeared.

All the Aurors up the street had seen the impressive beam fall into the group of Death Eater's, and all of them had expected a bit more than what had happened. The Death Eater's themselves seemed to shrug it away, and most had once again trained their wands on the Aurors. There was one on the street, though, who knew what was coming.

Voldemort felt the power before he heard or saw it and the surprise on his face was at once truly frightening and then down right terrifying. "APPARATE, YOU FOOLS," he shouted to his remaining Death Eater's. "IT'S-"

The curse exploded just beneath the ground.

The force and absolute power behind the spell caused the most devastating destruction to the street yet. The ground in a twelve metre radius simply disappeared into nothingness as the heat burned through, the red light cracking it in parts. The explosion came next. It was the boom Harry heard and that everyone else felt.

The thirty four Death Eater's were thrown high into the air, most were in several pieces as the red light consumed them. Dust, debris, rock, and body parts were sent flying in a massive fireball of destruction that levelled three deserted buildings and set fire to others. All the bodies in the area of the already dead and wounded were thrown as well, so were those who were injured. The remaining flying Death Eater's were knocked away, some hitting shops, others falling into flame.

The remaining twenty or so Aurors up the street, including Tonks, Dermas, and Kingsley, were knocked of their feet from the raw power of the blasting spell. Smoke rose from the impact crater, shooting two hundred feet into the air. It was the effect Harry had hoped for and dreaded. He had just effectively ended the battle and no Aurors were hurt in the blast, but Death Eater's were and no matter what Harry told himself now, he felt guilty over their deaths.

After he stopped spinning Harry gained control of the broom and looked down on the destruction below. He saw the massive dust cloud and quickly began flying down, weariness beyond belief welling up inside him from the drain on his power. The ground came up faster than he had expected and Harry sharply pulled out of his dive a little too late. The tail of the broom clipped the ground and threw Harry off, his back scraping across the ground as he made contact with the destroyed cobblestone. Thankfully his back armour protected his skin. Harry's slide came to a stop as he hit the body of someone fallen, he didn't know who.

For a moment Harry blinked in and out of consciousness, the world fading black before his eyes. He turned his head and saw the countless number of dead on the street, their blood mixing with one another. In a deep corner of his mind Harry thought that's what this is all about. Blood. Pureblood, Half-blood, Mudblood.

Hell it doesn't matter now he cried as the blood continued to mix. It's all the same once spilt...

Harry's eyes flicked over the crater in the ground, from where his blasting curse had connected, he closed his eyes and wiped away a tear at the sight of the dead. He had to be strong, had to be... strong. Why? The world seemed to slow for Harry and he had a thousand different thoughts and emotions pass through him in one instant.

Why does this happen...? Why do we have to fight...? Why is our world based on the morals of good and evil. What's the deal? WHY! What purpose does this serve? The Death... destruction, the fight for power! ANSWER ME! Harry cried to his mind.

No answer came, yet unbeknownst to Harry Potter, the sheer amount of power he had used that day had sealed his fate in vicious and twilit ways…

Since the moment the Aurors had arrived on the street, only fifteen minutes had past. One quarter of an hour. In that time one hundred and forty lay dead on the street, one hundred or so others lay dying. To Harry it had felt like days, as he slowly struggled to his feet. The Dementors, the duel with Voldemort and the first real battle of the war between Aurors and Death Eater's, had all taken their toll. Harry swayed unsteadily on his feet as the smoke from the destruction cleared. He looked up the street and saw the remaining Aurors running around, searching for the wounded, putting out fires on buildings, evacuating the survivors.

No one noticed the Boy Who Lived... save one.

Harry looked left down the street and his heart skipped a few beats. Voldemort still stood alone by the edge of the road, his eyes locked on Harry. Even though they were a fair distance apart, Harry could feel more than see the fury that the Dark Lord held for him.

Harry just glared right on back and took a few steps forward, towards him, shakily. He limped on his ankle; it may have been sprained, fractured even. His hand bled heavily from the splinters of his now destroyed wand embedded in his flesh, his broken ribs made every breath painful.

Everything seemed so surreal to Harry. The bodies, the fires, the massive crater he had created. There was a loud ringing in his ears that further took away the aspect of realism; nothing was real... but the pain. He shivered in the cold and shock, unwilling to believe it. In his head he cried to anyone who was listening to help him but the closest friend was far and away up the street.

Voldemort was closer, and getting nearer with every painful step Harry took.

Harry gritted his teeth and limped on towards his enemy, wincing every other step. He stepped over bodies, debris, and moved around his crater that was almost the width of the street and about seven metres deep. Voldemort didn't move as Harry approached, didn't do anything except keep his eyes locked with Potter's. Harry moved with a purpose, with one thought in his mind, one last duel.

The ground sped up beneath him and quicker than he'd thought, Voldemort loomed up before him. Harry breathed in heavily, ignoring the pain, the physical pain. In his mind he was screaming for death to take the creature before him, to end the suffering. So many ruined lives all brought back to this skeleton of a man and the power and fear he could wield.

The storm Harry had been up in only moments ago raged overhead. Rain splattered the ground and lightning forked across the sky. A small gust of wind blew down the street, billowing the robes of the Dark Lord and ruffling the unruly hair of the Hero.

Silence was absolute as the wind blew the smoke around in dust clouds that dissipated in the rain. The only sound reaching Harry was that of the small tip tap as the rain hit his dragon armour and that was drowned out as Voldemort spoke.

"How does it feel, Harry?" he hissed. There was no wand in the Dark Lord's hands, he was unarmed.

"How does what feel?" Harry replied, clenching his fists, ignoring the pain from the splinters.

Voldemort smiled. "To have the power of a god at your fingertips, to take life without regard, to fight and kill... How does it feel?"

Harry swayed on the spot, guilt weighing down upon him. Though he wasn't going to let his enemy see that. "I did what I had to do..."

"As do we all, Harry. The end justifies the means..." Voldemort's voice was laced with bitterness.

"I SAVED THE LIVES OF THE AURORS!" shouted Harry, his palm tingling with magic. Anger and hatred threatened to consume him.

Voldemort laughed menacingly. "And yet you still feel you have to justify yourself, to me of all people. Murderer... We truly are equals."

"Shut up," whispered Harry weakly. "I'm nothing like you..."

"You don't sound to sure, Potter. Death can be-"

Half a dozen loud pops echoed down the street near Harry and he turned sharply, palm raised in defence. Not more Death Eater's, he thought. It wasn't. Harry sighed with relief and he heard Voldemort hiss in anger.

Albus Dumbledore, accompanied by half the teaching staff at Hogwarts had Apparated onto the street, barely a stone’s throw from Harry. With him were McGonagall, Flitwick, Sinistra, Mad Eye Moody, and another man Harry didn't know. Judging from the robes he was wearing he was an Auror.

"Harry..." called Dumbledore worriedly, his eyes searching the destruction of the street and all the dead that littered it, his mind jumping to conclusions that all spelled death for Harry. His fears lessened a moment later, though, when he saw Harry standing very close nearby. He was alone with Voldemort, but he was alive.

McGonagall gasped at the street around her and nearly fainted when she saw the endless rows of bodies and the smouldering ruins of the buildings. After a moment she too found Harry. All of the other staff did as well and nobody moved. Harry smiled slightly and turned back to Voldemort and a great fear instantly grasped him. The Dark Lord now had his wand pointed straight at him, an evil grin still on his face.

"Death can be painful, Harry. As I've said before I wouldn't know, I have not died. The end is coming and Death haunts both our footsteps. I will kill you... and all that you love. Know that you will find no rest in this world and that no one can protect you." Voldemort's eyes flicked over to Dumbledore and the others, who had their wands out and were watching the exchange nervously. "Until next time, Harry..."

He bowed – and Harry felt nothing but seething hatred and offence.

Voldemort disapparated with a pop, and a great weight seemed to be lifted from the street and a long held breath was let out. Just like that it was over. Hundreds were dead but the war was no closer to ending. Harry fell to his knees at the hopelessness of it all. What was the point...? Why do I do it... where am I going... where is it going to take me...? If this is life then why is death made out to be so bad...? Please answer me...

No answer came.

"Harry..." said Dumbledore slowly, having walked over. He placed one of his wizened hands on Harry's shoulder. "What happened?"

Harry laughed mirthlessly, crying slightly at the end. "I killed them."

Dumbledore's grip on his shoulder tightened. He and Harry barely heard the shouts from the remaining people on the street. Harry was kneeling in rubble, his cheeks moist with tears. "You did so in self defence, Harry. To protect others..."

Harry sighed and looked up absently at the storm raging overhead, the raindrops falling onto his glasses. Right now he felt incredibly alone. "Yeah..."

Murderer... We truly are equals...

No... Harry told himself. No…

The use of so much power, so much grief and guilt, had taken its toll. Harry did not fight the darkness that claimed him.

*~*~*~*