Harry Potter: The Forgotten Chronicles- Book 8

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

The courtyard was a scene of utter chaos, spells ricocheting off walls, debris flying through the air, and the intense clamor of clashing forces. Harry and Voldemort were locked in a fierce duel at the center of the tumult, their wands crackling with magical energy. Voldemort's eyes were fierce, his face contorted with rage and determination. Harry, equally resolute, matched him spell for spell, their magic creating a dazzling yet deadly display of power.

Suddenly, Voldemort's expression shifted. His face twisted into a grimace of pain, and he staggered back as if struck by an invisible force. For a moment, the Dark Lord seemed disoriented, clutching at his chest and gasping. His wand wavered, and the intensity of the curses he was casting diminished. The dark magic surrounding him faltered, revealing a rare vulnerability.

Harry's heart skipped a beat as he noticed the change. Voldemort's pain was evident, but it was the sudden realization that struck him with a jolt. He knew the source of this disturbance—it could only be the result of Evelyn's sacrifice. Her willingness to give everything for the cause had created a ripple, a moment of weakness in the Dark Lord's otherwise impenetrable defenses.

"Evelyn..." Harry whispered under his breath, his voice a mix of grief and gratitude. Her sacrifice was not in vain; it was weakening Voldemort, giving Harry and his allies a fighting chance. The raw emotion spurred him on, and he could almost feel her presence urging him to continue, to fight harder.

Voldemort's eyes snapped open, filled with a venomous fury. Before Harry had a moment to accept Evelyn's fate, the duel resumed with ferocious intensity. Voldemort unleashed a barrage of curses, each one more deadly than the last, while Harry, fueled by a mix of sorrow and resolve, deflected and countered with equal ferocity. The air crackled with the power of their spells, the very essence of their magic clashing in a spectacular and deadly dance.

Harry's focus was intense, his every instinct honed on the duel with Voldemort. The Dark Lord's spells were relentless, and Harry had just managed to dodge a particularly vicious curse when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Nagini—Voldemort's massive serpent—slithering silently toward him. Her sinuous body moved with a lethal grace, her fangs bared and ready to strike.

The moment was terrifyingly clear in Harry's mind, knowing that if he didn't act fast, he'd be vulnerable to an attack from behind. But before he could react, Neville appeared as if summoned by fate. With a determined set to his jaw, Neville brandished the Sword of Gryffindor. His movements were swift and decisive, and with one powerful swing, he severed Nagini's head from her body.

The great snake's head flew through the air, its eyes still open in shock, before it landed with a thud on the cold stone floor. Her massive body thrashed violently for a few moments, but then stilled, the life draining from it. The courtyard fell into a stunned silence as the snake's head came to rest. With Nagini destroyed, the last of Voldemort's Horcruxes was gone. The Dark Lord was now vulnerable—truly mortal.

Voldemort's eyes widened in horror and rage as he realized the full extent of his loss. His face twisted into a mask of agony and fury, and he roared in pain, a sound that echoed through the Great Hall. He whirled on Harry, his eyes blazing with murderous intent. With a furious shout, he unleashed the Killing Curse, the green light of Avada Kedavra streaking toward Harry with lethal speed.

Instinctively, Harry raised his wand, his heart pounding in his chest. The air crackled as his counter-curse met Voldemort's curse head-on. A blinding flash of light erupted where their spells collided, the force of their magic creating a static charge that crackled and pulsed through the room. Harry's entire being was focused on the spell, drawing on every ounce of his strength and magic.