A Potter Secret

Final Spells

As Harry climbs to his feet, Voldemort sends a ribbon of dark matter snaking through the air. Harry blocks it, deflecting it downward, where it explodes violently. As the walkway beneath his feet gives way, Harry drops, just as another of Voldemort's spells sails over his head and Harry drops to a walkway below. Harry glances up, sees Voldemort's shadow begin to move forward. He glances around, then dashes for a doorway ahead. He is almost there when- whoosh! tendrils of fabric encircle his ankle, arm and neck and spin him round. Harry looks, Voldemort stands upon the walkway now, cloak swirling madly as the hem unravels and cloth vipers slither across the walkway and up Harry's body. Before Harry can react, Voldemort flicks his wand and snaps the cloth tight, reeling Harry toward him. "Why do you live!" Voldemort demands. As Voldemort's face looms close, eyeing Harry like a curious specimen, Harry looks up.

"Because I have something worth living for," Harry says.

Angrily, Voldemort poises the Elder Wand over Harry's scar. The flesh there begins to color with blood, the lightning bolt turning white as ice. And then Voldemort's hand begins to tremble. He stares at the wand and watches, in horror, as a crack appears and begins to expand along its length. For a moment, he only stares, as if betrayed Harry looks too, mind racing. The tendrils encircling him begin to fray, loosening their grip on him ever-so slightly. He wiggles his hand free and lashes out, striking Voldemort across the cheek. Voldemort's eyes shift, glaring at Harry, when he looks down, watches a drop of blood strike the fabric encircling Harry's wrist. He reaches up, fingers his cheek, blood. Instantly, Harry steps back. "Confringo!" Harry shouts.

The tendrils of fabric burst into flames. Voldemort falls back and, with his fractured wand, slices the burning ribbons. As they turn to ash, Harry stumbles back and Voldemort picks him up and hurls him into a wall. As he rises, Voldemort fires again.

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A pair of eyes open. Blink. Shadows streak across the view, like warriors in an ancient shadow play. Sound surfaces slowly, oddly, as if our ear drums were numb and swollen and gradually returning to normal. We return to the eyes, unblinking, slowly drifting in their sockets, taking in the sound and fury that dances across the irises. We pull back and reveal Neville. Bruised but unbowed. In an instant, it all comes clear, to him and us, that the Hall is full of wizards, fighting. Something glimmers in Neville's periphery, The Sword of Gryffindor. Bellatrix laughs madly as she stands upon a table, wand in hand, spraying the room with spells. As she pivots, one bolt just misses Ginny.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" Mrs. Weasley shouts. Mrs. Weasley pitches her cloak, wand raised. Bellatrix ROARS with laughter at sight of her.

"Come on, granny, give us your best,' Bellatrix laughs.

Mrs. Weasley fires a volley of spells and Bellatrix's smile fades. As she counters, jets of light fly back and forth, skittering off the tables and overturned benches. Just then Neville comes into view, clutching the Sword of Gryffindor now, bumping past McGonagall and Dean Thomas as they battle a pair of Death Eaters, his gaze fully forward and oddly intent. As Mrs. Weasley parries a ferocious blast from Bellatrix, George, Bill and Mr. Weasley leap into the breach, raise their wands. "Back off, boys! She's mine!" Mrs. Weasley shouts, glaring at Bellatrix. "You will never touch my children again!"

"Be thankful we only took one. Besides," Bellatrix smirks, indicating George. "It's not like you don't have a spare."

As Bellatrix grins, a massive green bolt of light spits from Mrs. Weasley's wand, striking Bellatrix directly in the sternum. Bellatrix's smile curdles, then she topples to the floor, still. A blood-chilling scream fills the air.

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Nagini writhes forward angrily as Ron dashes away. Seconds later, Hermione comes into view, running alongside. "Hermione!" Ron cries.

"Yes!" Hermione shouts.

"I need to tell you something!" Ron insists.

She glances at him, then looks straight ahead, still running. "I don't want you to say anything you wouldn't say if we weren't about to be killed by a giant snake! It'll just ruin it!" Hermione replies. Ron starts to respond, then says nothing.

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Harry rises and Voldemort fires again, but Harry simply rises again. Furious, Voldemort steps forward and points the wand only inches from Harry's forehead, seething. Harry glances behind, his vision spinning. Nothing is behind him. Only a void beyond the blasted battlement. Only sky and a great fall. He turns back to Voldemort. "You were right," Harry says. Voldemort's eyes glitter curiously. Harry's eyes drift to the wand in Voldemort's hand. "When you told Professor Snape it was failing you. It will always fail you."

"It belongs to me! I killed Snape!" Voldemort cries.

"But what if the wand never belonged to him? What if the wand's allegiance was to someone else?" Harry taunts. Voldemort stares at him. Confused. And suddenly, in this moment, it is Harry, beaten and bloody, who seems in control. He smiles, then presses even closer, his voice quiet, vaguely taunting. "Come on, Tom. Let's end this the way we started it-" Harry grabs Voldemort's cloak in both hands. "Together."

And then he falls back, pulling them both into the void Hermione and Ron dash down the stairs. Nagini closes on them. And then, suddenly, Nagini hisses madly, twisting crazily on the steps, tail snapping back and forth, shattering stairs and walls. "What's the matter with her?" Hermione asks.

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Harry and Voldemort plummet, twisting crazily, when suddenly a crack fills the sky and they apparate into a plume. Harry and Voldemort entwined, morphing monstrously in and out of one another, a single screaming beast one minute, adversaries the next, hurtling downward, toward the courtyard below.

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Hermione and Ron watch Nagini thrash. As rubble rains down, they begin to run for the Great Hall, skirting Flitwick and Hagrid, who battle a pair of Death Eaters on the stairs. Further up the marble stairs, Professor Trelawney raises her wand, draws a bead on a Death Eater and with a forceful flick, sends him flying through the air. Seamus regards her with amazement. "There's more to me than incense and tea leaves, Mr. Finnegan," Trelawney says.

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The fighting wizards stop, peer upward at the plume above. As it streaks toward the ground, another crack fills the sky and Harry and Voldemort burst apart as they meet the ground, rolling onto their feet facing one another across the courtyard. Chests heaving, they stare at one another, then Voldemort's eyes shift. Harry follows his gaze and watches the Elder Wand roll to a rest. "I told you, it's useless to you," Harry says.

Just then, Ron and Hermione burst into view, followed by Nagini. Nagini rises, ready to strike. Harry turns, wand in hand, but he's too late. Ron reaches out and takes Hermione's hand. Voldemort grabs the Elder Wand Nagini's head drops toward Ron and Hermione Harry watches in horror as Neville, appearing out of nowhere, steps into the breach, sword in hand, and with one mighty swing severs Nagini's head.

Voldemort freezes, watching Nagini's body thrash madly for a time before going still. The great snake's head tumbles end-over-end and then, as it comes to a rest Voldemort bellows in pain and turns, firing on Harry. Instinctively, Harry raises his wand, countering and the Elder Wand sails from Voldemort's hand, turning end-over-end, the spell ricocheting back on him. He stands, utterly still for a moment, his eyes on Harry, then drops. Dead.

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A light breeze blows over the damaged grounds.