Harry Potter and the Sword of the Hero

Chapter 2 – It is Never Easy

It may sound absurd, but don't be naïve
Even heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed, for once you can see
Even heroes have the right to dream
And it's not easy... to be me.

-- Five For Fighting (Superman)

Harry had travelled through the night, checking his wand every half an hour or so to make sure he was still heading in the right direction, towards Hogwarts. As best as he could tell, the castle was still several hours flight away.

He had been going slower now it was light, having to avoid Muggle towns, even with the invisibility cloak on someone could still look up and see him through the gap in the bottom. It was about eight o'clock in the morning and having flown all night, he was in need of a rest.

Up ahead Harry could see the beginnings of a forest, he decided to rest just on the edge of the wood. He began his descent and was soon on the ground, wincing as he bumped his arm in landing. After entering the woods, he wormed his way through the trees and looked for somewhere to lie down. Five minutes later he came across a small clearing and quickly collapsed onto his back. The events of the last twelve hours were only just catching up to him.

He lay there with his broken arm throbbing painfully, thinking about the Dursleys. It was my fault, he thought, Voldemort killed them because he was after me. If I hadn't been there they'd still be alive. He'll pay; he'll pay for everything, for everyone he's ever killed.

And then all of a sudden Harry's defence walls collapsed. The walls he kept up so well to keep out the pain… the guilt. He cried, he cried hard, so many dead because of him. He was responsible for so much death.

I'm sorry Sirius… Cedric… Dudley… Aunt Petunia… Uncle Vernon…Mum… Dad… It all started with you, I'm responsible for my parent's death… that damn prophecy

The grief was overwhelming. It was set to consume him. He put his head down between his arms as he heaved one violent sob after another, his very soul crying out from within.

If I'd never existed then so many would still be alive. I'm sorry… I couldn't protect you... Why me? This always happens to me… why am I always the survivor… I'm sorry...

Harry thought about all the people lost, and then he thought about all the people that could be lost if he continued with life. And then a dark thought came to him. A thought he'd never had before….

Continue with life... Why not just end it…? What's left to keep me here… nothing. Let Voldemort and all of the death and pain be someone else's problem.

As these thoughts of death and suicide clouded his mind, Harry brought his good arm up to rest on his chest. He felt it hit something metallic beneath his shirt and he frowned. Harry reached under his shirt and pulled out the pocket watch on its chain. In one instantaneous moment of realization, Harry knew exactly what was left in this world to keep him here. Ron and Hermione.

The inscription on the cover said it all: Forever Friends. They were all that he had left, and he'd be damned if he was going to let Voldemort win that easily. No, he would carry on with life, he would carry on being the survivor, and he would carry on protecting his friends from the evil of this world.

This didn't take away the feeling of absolute guilt though. He continued to cry, until he could cry no more. And finally, the enormous exhaustion that had built up over the night claimed him. Harry slowly drifted into a restless sleep.

Harry was standing in a room he had never been in before. The walls were made of stone similar to that of Hogwarts and there was a single oak door on the other side of the room. The windows of the room were hung with blood-red curtains and had a crest on them he wasn't familiar with. It appeared to be two green snakes entwined, one devouring the other forming a circle. At the other end of the room there was a podium. The room was full of people in long black cloaks. Harry couldn't see their faces, they were masked. He knew who these people were though… Death Eaters. Though for some reason they didn't attack him. Harry began to move towards the podium.

Standing on the podium to begin his speech, he raised his hands for silence. The hands were long, thin, and bony white. Voldemort's hands, he had Voldemort's hands.

"My Death Eaters," Voldemort/Harry began, "I have brought you here to tell you the most greatest of news. Harry Potter is dead."

A murmur of surprise spread throughout the crowd of Death Eaters who hadn't been with Voldemort on Privet Drive.

"Yes," he continued, "the boy who plagued me for so long has died by my hand. Last night myself and a select group of Death Eaters apparated to Potter's home and destroyed him. It is over, he is dead."

The assembled Death Eaters stood in silence for a few moments before beginning to cheer their master.

"Thank you," he continued, "Now how about we go out into London to celebrate. I hear that the Muggle torture has been lacking the past sixteen years an-"

Harry awoke in the clearing to searing pain in his scar. He pressed his palm against it in hopes of numbing the pain, but to no avail. It burned and Harry knew why… He's angry… he knows… Harry removed his hand, there was blood on it. His scar had opened again. He stood up, the immense grief forgotten for a moment. No he thought, he knows, he knows I'm alive. Harry quickly grabbed his broom and mounted it as best he could with his good arm. Kicking off, he knew he had to get to Hogwarts before he was found.

*~*~*~*

"-the past sixteen years an-" Voldemort stopped abruptly, he had felt him, he had felt the boy deep within his mind. Potter was alive, and he knew it. Several questions flittered through his mind: how had he escaped Privet Drive? Where was he now? What was-? 

"My Lord?"

Voldemort looked up; Bellatrix was standing in front of him, apparently wondering why the sudden stop in his speech.

"My Lord, what is it?"

"POTTER! HE'S ALIVE," raged Voldemort, fury in his eyes that sent a wave of terror through the assembled minions. "I FELT HIM IN MY HEAD, HE'S ALIVE."

"Ho- How?" asked Bellatrix.

"I do not know, but we must find him before he gets to Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?"

"Yes, for a brief moment I saw into his mind. He is travelling up the country on his broom to Hogwarts."

"What should we do?"

Voldemort thought in silence for a moment, before replying, "He is still several hours flight away from the castle, if you and a few others apparate just outside of Hogsmeade, you could await his arrival. Take your broomsticks and cut him off."

"My Lord, dead or alive?"

"Kill him once and for all. And Bellatrix, do not fail me."

Bellatrix nodded to her master before moving off. On her way to the door she motioned six Death Eaters to follow her. Outside she headed for the rack of brooms on the opposite stone wall, grasping one of them firmly on its polished handle.

"Bellatrix, what is happening?" asked a Death Eater.

"Grab a broom and apparate to Hogsmeade, to the Shrieking Shack just outside of the village. I will fill you in when we get there."

With a small pop she was gone, closely followed by the six Death Eater's.

*~*~*~*

Dumbledore arrived in the Atrium at the Ministry of Magic. It was packed with witches and wizards all going about their daily business, completely oblivious to the nightmare that had now befallen them with Harry's death. Several of them waved down Dumbledore, but he had neither the time nor the patience to talk with them now.

He began to walk over to the lift. He hadn't been here since his battle with Voldemort and looking around he could see that The Fountain of Magical Brethren had been rebuilt and so had several other things that had been destroyed. He reached and entered the lift. It was empty apart from him and several paper memos and it wasn't long before he arrived at the Auror division.

Stepping out of the lift, Dumbledore began walking down the hall and entered the door marked 'Severe Crimes Unit- Auror'. He looked around for Kingsley. This office was just as busy as the Atrium, dozens of people trying to do dozens of things. Dumbledore spotted Kingsley heading into his office. Moving across the floor to the office, Dumbledore knocked three times on the wooden door.

"Yes," came a gruff voice from within.

Dumbledore walked in and stood opposite Kingsley's desk. "Dumbledore, what brings you here? I thought you'd be at Hogwarts waiting for the studen-"

"Kingsley," Dumbledore cut him off, "It's Harry, Harry Potter. He -er- he- he died last night at an attack on his home at Privet Drive. Voldemort killed him. It- he destroyed the protection and… killed him.”

Kingsley sat in shock for a moment before looking up into the old wizard's eyes, hoping that it wasn't true, but all he saw there was despair. "Dum- Dumbledore, do you know what this means? The war- losing Harry will severely weaken our chances of winning."

"More than you know," said Dumbledore, thinking of the prophecy. "I would like you to send a team to Privet Drive, to recover what they can. Harry deserves a proper burial."

"Of course," said Kingsley sadly, "I'll go myself with a few trusty Aurors."

"Thank you. Keep this as quite as you can, we don't want the world to know yet."

"Sure... but what are you going to do now though."

"I will return to Hogwarts and await the students. I shall make the official announcement of Harry's death tonight at the feast."

With a pop, he was gone; leaving Kingsley to attend to Privet Drive.

*~*~*~*

The Hogwarts Express 

"That was utter bollocks," announced Ron, as he and Hermione made their way down the carriage to find Ginny, and their compartment. They had just come from the prefects meeting they were obliged to attend at the beginning of the journey.

"What was?" asked Hermione.

"The meeting of course! New Head Boy shouting out orders. Bloody -er- what's his name -er- Davers or something…?"

"Was a little bossy, wasn't he. I think Cho will be a good Head Girl though."

"Yeah..." muttered Ron, his mind wandering back to Harry. Something was wrong, he just knew it.

They found Ginny's compartment and walked in, sliding the glass panelled door closed behind them. Ginny wasn't alone though; sitting to her left was Luna Lovegood; Luna had grown somewhat over the summer. She was several inches taller and her hair was no longer waist length, she had had it cut so that it was at shoulder length. It suited her well, thought Ron, as he took a seat opposite her.

"How was the meeting?" asked Ginny.

"Long and boring," moaned Ron, not wanting to go into the finer details of the past few hours.

"How was your summer, Luna?" asked Hermione.

Luna, who had previously been staring out of the window, turned and faced Hermione. "Fine," she replied, somewhat icily before turning back to the window. “For those who Believe in Twilight, that is…”

"What's wrong with her?" Hermione mouthed to Ginny. Ginny shrugged her shoulders.

As the journey progressed their compartment was visited regularly by familiar faces. Dean Thomas stopped by and sat down next to Ginny. They were still seeing each other and this clearly wasn't lost on Ron, who muttered a very rough 'hello' and 'goodbye' to Dean. Members of the DA popped in occasionally asking if the club was going to continue.

"I don't see why not," said Hermione to one such member. "We'll probably have a proper teacher for DADA this year but we could still do with a little extra defence."

The light outside had begun to fail as the sun went down and the train approached its destination. Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Luna pulled on their robes over their clothes. Once they were dressed Ron decided to voice something that had been bothering him all trip.

"Hermione," he said, "you don't think anything's happened to Harry, do you?"

Hermione didn't know what to say, she had been about to ask Ron the same question. She felt that something was…. "I don't know. I think we would have heard if something had happened. I mean, the Order would know."

"Yeah... yeah you're right. He's probably up at the castle now waiting for us. I'll bet-"

Ron was cut off by a familiar, unwanted voice at the door; Malfoy was standing there, flanked by his huge friends Crabbe and Goyle. "Alright Weasels," drawled Malfoy to Ron and Ginny, "You to, Mudblood." he said, nodding to Hermione.

"Sod off, Malfoy," replied Ron viciously as Hermione grasped his arm tightly.

"Now, now, Weasel. I merely came by to talk to Potter but it appears I've missed him. I do hope he's okay…." Malfoy said this with the air of someone who new something they did not.

"He's-" began Hermione.

"I really do hope he's okay," repeated Malfoy, an evil smirk spreading across his face.

"Get out," spat Ron harshly, using ever ounce of self restraint he had not to hit the slimy git.

"I'm going, Weasley, but do tell Potter I want a word. If you see him again."

"OUT!" shouted Ron, as he got up and shut the door in Malfoy's face. The train came to a slow stop as he did this.

Once on the platform Ron looked around for Harry but failed to find him. Hermione who seemed to have been doing the same thing turned around to face Ron.

"I'm sure he's up at the castle," she assured Ron.

They both stared at each other for a moment before turning away. Ron had a feeling in the pit of his stomach, he knew something was wrong. Hermione had the same feeling, but neither wanted to say what they felt. It was better to live on hope.

"Firs'-years this way," called a familiar voice. "Come on now, firs'-years."

"Hey, Hagrid," Ron shouted over the crowd. Ron being taller than most in the crowd, bar Hagrid, was able to get noticed by him easily.

"All righ', Ron?"

"Fine, I was just wondering if you'd seen Harry?" Ron replied quickly.

"Harry? Wasn' he on the train?"

"No, we thought maybe he'd been brought to the castle separately, you know for safety."

"Don't know nothin' abou' tha'." said Hagrid, who was now looking a little worried. "But yer probably righ', he'll be up at the castle."

"Sure," agreed Ron. "See you later, Hagrid."

Ron and Hermione dragged their trunks through the crowd and over to a carriage pulled by Thestrals. They got into the one that Ginny had saved for them and began the trip up to the castle. Nobody spoke on the way; Hagrid's words had been worrying. If Hagrid had been at the castle today, surely he would have seen or heard something about Harry. The fact that he hadn't only added to the worry.

Once at the castle they disembarked and made their way up the steps, running up quickly into the warm torchlight as it had just started to rain. Upon entering the castle they discovered that they were the first there, their carriage had been the first to arrive. The Entrance Hall was empty apart from Professor McGonagall, who was standing in the shadow of a torch near the door to the Great Hall. Hermione and Ron walked over to her.

"Oh, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," she said a bit shakily upon seeing them.

On closer inspection Hermione thought that she had been crying. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, she looked tired. "What is it, Professor?" she asked.

"It's- it's."

"Where's Harry?" asked Ron, who was seriously worried now.

"He has- Oh I think it's best if you go into the Great Hall and await the headmaster's speech," she said, her voice dying away at the end. McGonagall smiled weakly, pitifully and turned towards the doors.

Other students had started to arrive now and the Entrance Hall was getting rather crowded. Hermione and Ron moved through the doors of the Great Hall and along the Gryffindor table. Sitting down, Ron had a look around the hall. It wasn't as nicely decked out as previous years. The light came from the hundreds of floating candles and looking up, Ron saw that the sky was clear and for the most part cloudless. There was one patch of grey and that was the rain. A thousand and one stars dotted the entire roof. Bringing his gaze back to the Hall, he saw that the staff table didn't have nearly enough staff. Missing were Dumbledore, Hagrid and McGonagall of course and whoever was taking the DADA job. There was also a table at the front of the Hall, where the Sorting Hat would usually go, that normally wasn't there. Hermione had also noticed this and she and Ron exchanged confused, worried looks.

"Wonder where Dumbledore is?" said Ron, trying to sound carefree.

"I don't like this at all," Hermione said more to herself than to Ron, not worrying about being casual, she was scared. "Where's Harry? Where's Dumbledore? Something's happened, I just know it."

Ron sighed. "I think so, too."

The Hall had been filling up around them and it was almost full now. Hermione was watching the door for Harry but someone else always came through. She turned round to Ron who had just tapped her shoulder.

"What?"

"Dumbledore's here."

It was true. Dumbledore had just entered the hall. He came in through one of the side chambers and made his way up to the staff table. Hermione thought he looked practically ancient. It was as if he had aged thirty years or so over the summer holidays. She knew he was old, but this…

He moved along the staff table and took his place at the centre. For a brief moment his eye's met with Hermione's; all she saw there was despair, loss. The familiar twinkle seemed to have died, only to be replaced by a cold stare. It was as if her worst fears had been confirmed; the look on Dumbledore's face told her something had gone terribly wrong.

The first years entered the Hall led by Professor McGonagall. She brought them down through the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. The reason for the table up the front also became apparent. Professor McGonagall instructed the first years to sit at this table, before taking her place at the staff table next to Hagrid, who had just arrived through the side chamber door.

"What's going on?" asked Ron.

"I don't know," said Hermione, tears in her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Something's happened to him, Ron," she said, a tear now rolling down her cheek. "I think… I think he may be… hurt or- or worse… dead," she practically whispered this last word.

Ron didn't know what to say. He looked back up at the staff table as Dumbledore rose from his seat. Every eye in the room was now focused on the headmaster. No one spoke; it was as if everyone knew something was wrong. Dumbledore surveyed the students in the hall for a moment before beginning his speech.

"My dear students," he began, though somewhat wearily, "I welcome you back to Hogwarts for another year."

Hermione watched him from her seat. She heard the uneasiness in his voice; saw the look on his face. She didn't want to hear the rest of his speech. Her stomach felt as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it.

"I apologize to the new students... but the Sorting will not take place this evening. There has been… a -er-" Dumbledore stopped speaking and let out a heavy sigh before continuing. "I wish that the year didn't have to start on most grievous news but I... I... regret to inform you that our number is one less than what it should be." The strain in his voice was apparent to all.

The Hall greeted this news with utter silence. Nothing could be heard for a moment until there was a cry from the Gryffindor table. Every head in the hall turned to face Hermione who was now sobbing violently into her arms. Ron who was sitting next to her stared numbly at the table in front of him.

"Harry Potter," continued Dumbledore "was attacked last night at his summer home. I'm afraid he did not survive. He was killed, killed by Lord Voldemort."

A collective gasp and shudder spread throughout the Hall and several cries were heard. Ron looked up briefly and caught sight of Malfoy. He didn't appear shocked by this news, nor saddened by it. If Ron had ever wanted to hurt him, kill him, it was then.

"We have lost a great student and man this day," said Dumbledore, "A man that has shouldered the burdens of a lifetime in his short sixteen years. But Harry Potter's death will not be in vain. We must all stick together through these times if we are to have any hope of overcoming the impending darkness."

The hall was once again quiet, apart from Hermione's continued cries. Tears could also be seen rolling down several faces in the room. McGonagall was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue and Hagrid was looking at Dumbledore in terrifying disbelief.

*~*~*~*

One Hour Earlier 

Harry had been flying all day, after his dream in the forest he had abandoned the use of the invisibility cloak. He had tucked it under his shirt with the Marauder's Map deciding that speed was what was needed. The wind was beginning to pick up as the sun went down and it had become quite cold. It was a clear night and the stars shone brightly around him, except for one patch of grey in the sky ahead. He knew he was close to Hogwart's though, he could just make out the outline of the Forbidden Forest and it gave him hope.

After forty more minutes of flying Harry could see lights down below that must belong to the village of Hogsmeade. He was about twenty minute's flight from the castle and could see the turrets of it in the distance. Almost there, he thought, almost there. His limbs ached from a full day of flying. His broken arm was just a dull throb now; he'd grown used to the pain.

Flying on he pulled out the watch from around his neck and opened it. The small hands belonging to Ron and Hermione were settled on 'Hogwarts'. Good, he thought, they're safe.

He looked at his own hand on the watch and for a brief moment it rested on 'Travelling.' That would be right, thought Harry. He was about to clasp it shut when slowly he saw his hand begin to move – ticking up heartbreakingly, moving up to the top of the watch and resting on 'Mortal Peril'.

"What?" Harry said aloud to himself, confusion followed by dread.

Harry wasn't left wondering long why the hand had changed though. Over his right shoulder he clearly heard two words that cut right through him and the quietness of the night.

"AVADA KEDAVRA."

Harry reacted almost instantly. Using his natural born Quidditch skills he quickly dived several feet and felt the curse rocket over him, the cold chill grasping the back of his neck. Looking back he saw several shapes in the sky behind him. He counted seven shapes in all and they all had their wands pointed at him.

"AVADA KEDAVRA."

The Killing Curse flew at him through the night again. Dodging this one he turned to face his aggressors, pulling his wand out as he went. The Death Eaters were coming in fast; they were about thirty metres away and closing. The closest one Harry recognized as Bellatrix Lestrange.

"BELLATRIX," he cried. Anger beyond belief welling up inside of him. She had cast the curse which sent Sirius back through the veil. "STUPEFY."

She dodged Harry's spell easily but had lost her shot at him because of it. The other Death Eaters were in firing range of Harry now.

"REDUCTO," yelled one.

"Protego," cried Harry, the shield charm protecting him from the blasting curse and sending it back at its owner, which Harry found odd as the protego shield charm shouldn’t reflect curses, but he didn’t have time to think about it now.

The Reductor curse flew back at the Death Eater who wasn't quick enough to dodge it. When it hit it wasn't pretty. The blasting curse, designed to blast solid objects out of the way, ripped apart the Death Eater into hundred's of pieces. The other Death Eater's were momentarily shocked by the sudden explosion of one of their number. Harry used this time to swing round and take flight again. But he was still a good fifteen minutes from the Hogwart's grounds.

He pushed his Firebolt harder and faster than he ever had before. The ground below him became a blur and the sound of the wind in his ears was deafening. The Death Eaters were catching back up to him again as he felt the heat of a curse fly over his head. What are they riding? he thought. These brooms were faster than his. He was giving his all to outrun them but they caught up with ease. There was soon a Death Eater on either side of him.

"GIVE UP, POTTER," shouted the one to his left. "YOU'RE AS GOOD AS DEAD."

Harry barely had time to acknowledge what he said before the other Death Eater pointed his wand at him and shouted a curse.

"AVADA KEDAVRA."

For the third time that night Harry heard the most unforgivable of curses. Without thinking what he was doing; he pushed his broom downwards sharply, causing him to fall several feet. The killing curse missed him by an inch, hitting the Death Eater that was on his left instead. This man fell from his broom down through the night sky... dead.

Harry looked up at the Death Eater who fired the curse. He was watching his dead companion fall. Harry quickly withdrew his wand again and shouted:

"STUPEFY."

The man turned to Harry and took the curse directly in his face. He fell from his broom like the former Death Eater and down to the ground. He wouldn't survive the impact. Three down, thought Harry grimly, hugging his broken arm close to him. Four to go.

He sped off again with all the speed he could muster. Looking back he could see the four remaining enemies catching up to him with ease, Bellatrix at their lead.

"DIE, POTTER!"

Harry swerved as Bellatrix sent a curse at him. Releasing his grip on the broom momentarily Harry pointed his wand over his shoulder and shouted the first curse that came to mind.

"Petrificus Totalus."

From the muffled yell that came before Bellatrix's scream of anger, he assumed that his spell had hit one of his attackers. Yes, a quick glance over his shoulder told him there were now three Death Eaters behind him and one dark blur falling down through the night sky.

Hogwarts was getting closer, it was about five minutes to the boundaries; The Death Eaters wouldn't cross the boundaries, he thought. If he could make it that far he was safe. With the pain in his broken arm worsening, he glanced back again, just in time to see Bellatrix raise her wand.

Harry didn't catch the name of the curse, nor did he see the speed of it. Her curse came at Harry faster than he could dodge. The dark blue beam hit him painfully in his right leg, tearing away the muscle and opening the flesh deeply, tearing through the cartilage and finally breaking the bone.

"SHI- AGH- AAAGGHH," screamed Harry, as his now broken leg bled profusely.

He lost control of his broom and began plummeting towards the ground. From what he could see of his leg he saw that the flesh was torn open. What struck him the most though was that he could see the splintered bone. Biting back the pain and the tears he pulled himself up as steady as he could in his condition and continued to fly. He was about one hundred metres above the ground and the Death Eater's were directly above him.

Breathing heavily, and wincing with pain, Harry took careful aim with his wand at the nearest one; he shot an Impediment curse up into the fray. The curse hit the Death Eater in the face and he slowed to a stop and was soon left behind. Two left, he thought, as Bellatrix once again shot a killing curse at him. The other man also shot a killing curse but Harry dodged them easily.

The grounds were drawing ever closer, he was almost over the boundary when the man put on a burst of speed and overtook him. Once far enough ahead he turned around to face Harry. They were flying towards each other at fantastic speeds. Harry raised his wand and sent a Stunning spell his way. The Death Eater dodged it easily and took aim with his own wand. The gap between them was closing fast when he shouted his curse.

"AVADA KE-,"

Harry thought there was no dodging this one, the Death Eater would fire it and he would fly right into it. But then through the immense pain Harry had an idea, a simple idea but a brilliant one. "Accio Broom," said Harry simply.

The simplest spells were more often than not the most effective.

The man's broom slid out from under him and towards Harry. He let it fly right past him and fall out of the sky. The Death Eater fell towards the ground screaming all the way.

THUD!

Harry could see the castle gates below him. He had made it; he was on the Hogwart's grounds. He flew gloriously over the boundary and into safety, relief swelling up inside of him. Looking back he hoped to see Bellatrix give up the chase. He was wrong. She also flew onto the grounds and continued on towards Harry.

"JUST DIE, POTTER," she screamed.

Harry increased his speed towards the castle. He was half way across the grounds when Bellatrix drew level to him.

"IT IS FUTILE, POTTER. YOU CANNOT CHALLENGE THE DARK LORD AND EXPECT TO LIVE. YOU CANNOT FIGHT."

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAVE I JUST BEEN DOING," he shouted through gritted teeth.

Bellatrix's eyes blazed with anger as she pointed her wand at Harry. "AVADA KEDAVRA."

Harry pulled back on his broom and once again successfully dodged the curse. But he was so exhausted now, it was all too much. He turned left and sped off across the grounds for one last ditch effort.

He was no longer heading in the direction of the entrance to the castle but towards the Great Hall. To his right he saw all the carriages, empty carriages, making their way back down towards Hogsmeade, but this barely registered in his mind. His leg was bleeding badly and he began to feel faint. I've gotta get inside, he thought.

Bellatrix was shooting curses from somewhere behind him, he wasn't sure where, his vision had become blurred. He was flying towards a window that he recognized as the one behind the staff table in the Great Hall. His eyes began to feel really heavy as the window grew closer and closer. Harry had begun to slip into unconsciousness when something abruptly woke him up. One of Bellatrix's curses had hit him; the pain was immense as he felt blood trickling down his back. This is it, he thought. I've run my race, it's over…they win.

Harry looked over his shoulder and saw Bellatrix grinning madly with pleasure as she pointed his wand at him for the final time. No, said a little voice in his head, No, they don't win... they don't... no, no, no... not yet. You haven’t come far enough to die yet, Darkslayer.

Darkslayer? Harry thought wearily, a blind thought in the inferno of pain. What is that? No time, but he wasn’t about to give up and die.

"NOOOOO!" shouted Harry, as he turned his head back around just in time to see a pane of glass that belonged to the window of the Great Hall.

*~*~*~*

"We have lost a great student and man this day," said Dumbledore, "A man that has shouldered the burdens of a lifetime in his short sixteen years. Harry Potter's death will not be in vain... We must all stick together through these times if we are to have any hope of overcoming the impending darkness." 

The hall was once again quite, apart from Hermione's continued cries. Tears could also be seen rolling down several faces in the room. McGonagall was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue and Hagrid was looking at Dumbledore in terrifying disbelief.

"I once again remind you about choosing between what is right and what is easy. If a choice presents itself to you in the future I want you to remember, remember Harry Potter and the choices he made. He chose to fight for what he believed in, he chose-"

Dumbledore's speech was cut short as a crashing sound emanated from above. Something had been hurled through the window above him, shattering it into a hundred pieces. Glass began to rain dangerously down on the Hall and its occupants.

Harry hadn't expected it. The shards of glass cut his skin as he flew into the hall. He had a brief glimpse of the entire school turning their heads upwards before he felt himself fall from the broom. It seemed to happen in slow motion, taking hours for him to just fall off the broom. He saw the Hall before him. He felt like he had enough time to study every face now looking up at him.

Slowly – so slowly – he fell. At least it was slow to him. No more than a few seconds to everyone else. Harry saw a table rushing up to meet him. And then everything grew dark. He was unconscious before he hit the table – wood, glass and all manner of shrapnel hitting with him.

The Hall watched as this tattered and weary looking figure fell from his broom. He fell at least twenty metres and landed hard on his back, breaking several ribs, onto the Gryffindor Table. It was enough pain to jolt Harry back to consciousness.

"Agh- aaagghhh..." he cried. Looking wildly around, and wondering where he was. There was a golden fork sticking into his broken arm. And the absurdity of that was enough to force hysterical laughter out of him. Was this death? he thought. Have I died? But in an instant it all came flooding back to him, everything.

"H- Ha- Harry?"

Turning his head to the left he spotted a familiar face.

"HARRY!" shouted Ginny Weasley.

"Not my best landing..." he whispered, before passing out cold. And for a long time he knew no more.

*~*~*~*