It's Time to End It!

"Ah, Sirius, the traitor to the House of Black!" Voldemort exclaimed, his smile suddenly disappearing. "I had hoped that the two of you would meet here and die together. It would have been a most exquisite sight…"

"So he escaped from here, didn't he?" Harry asked eagerly, his dead heart suddenly alive again.

"It's not impossible if you insist on believing so," Voldemort said slowly, a strange smile once again forming on his face. "But I think he might prefer to die here!"

Ignoring Voldemort's words, Harry felt a surge of joy. All he knew was that Sirius was alive and had managed to escape…

That, at least, was good news!

The change in Harry's mood could not be hidden from Voldemort, and it destroyed his joy at being resurrected.

"Where is the incompetent house-elf?" Voldemort demanded, looking around the room.

There was a brief riot in the crowd gathered around.

A moment later, an ugly, emaciated house-elf was chased out by the Death Eaters.

"Winky?" Harry immediately recognised her as Mr Crouch's house-elf, whom he had met at the World Quidditch Cup.

Winky ignored Harry's shout, trembling with fear in her bulb-sized eyes.

"Come here, you fool!" Voldemort stared at it fiercely. "Potter has the sense to remind me that I have not punished you for your incompetence and dereliction of duty!"

"Sir, Winky… Winky was knocked out…" Winky stammered, trying to defend herself.

"I don't want to hear your explanation!" Lord Voldemort sneered, raising his wand gently and pronouncing each word. "Crucio! (heart-wrenching)"

"Ah ah ah~" The pain caused the poor house-elf to let out a shrill cry and fall to the ground, writhing and screaming in pain.

The Death Eaters watched in horror, and none gloated, as one of them had recently been subjected to exactly the same criminal code!

"Stop!" Harry shouted as he watched Winky on the verge of collapse.

However, Voldemort had no intention of stopping, and simply enjoyed Winky's twisted expression.

Almost half a minute later, Winky could no longer scream. Her face was covered in snot and tears, and she lay on the ground like a dying fish, twitching from time to time.

Lord Voldemort seemed to have lost interest in torturing the house-elf, for he lowered his wand and turned to Harry. "Don't be so hasty, it will be your turn soon, Potter!"

"Now, let's get back to what we were doing!" Voldemort's red eyes gleamed in the darkness, and he spoke the word softly. "Duel!"

Harry took a deep breath and clenched his wand in his right hand, knowing that there was no turning back. Resistance was the only option!

However, when faced with the Dark Lord, whom countless wizards feared to call by his first name, Harry was overcome with despair.

Think of all the spells I've learned this year…

Harry's mind raced; his duelling experience was limited, and he had only practised with Ron and Hermione a few times.

Defend! Build a defense first!

Protegos ~ (Armour) Harry thought of this and pointed his wand at himself, creating an invisible barrier of magic around him.

"That's right! To be able to master the Armour Charm at such an age, Dumbledore must have taught you well!" Voldemort said with some interest and surprise.

Under the protection of the Shield Charm, Harry gradually regained some of his courage, his eyes fixed on Voldemort's every move, ready to defend himself against any attack!

Harry, however, soon realised that he had been too naive. All Voldemort had to do was lift his hand and an indescribable pain filled his head, as if someone were scraping his flesh with a hot knife.

Harry resisted the urge to scream, but the pain quickly tore through his sanity, and screams of agony escaped his mouth.

"It seems Dumbledore did not tell you that Armor Charms cannot defend against certain spells!" Voldemort continued gently, staring at Harry's face, which was contorted with pain, like an instructor.

"And … whether or not the spell works depends on who is using it!"

As he spoke, Voldemort waved his wand again, and a beam of black light as thick as his arm flashed through the air.

The Shield Charm's defences were shattered like paper, and Harry watched as the black light hit him, sending him tumbling into the gravestone behind him.

Harry's right hand was still clenched tightly around his wand, and he tried desperately to get up from the ground as soon as he landed, but his whole body was in so much pain that he nearly fell into the hole that Peter had recently made and had not yet filled.

Tom Riddle's name on the gravestone came into view, but Harry had the sudden feeling that after today he would be the one to place his name on it — if, indeed, Voldemort was willing to do so.

"I must say, you disappoint me, Potter!" Voldemort said coldly as he advanced.

"I thought you'd be special! They say you're my worst enemy, but it seems you're not as good as they say. You're lucky, that's all! There's no one else to die for you!"

At Voldemort's mention of his mother, Harry's anger flared up, driving the fear from his mind, and he spat, "We are all the same, and you are nothing special, Voldemort! Everyone hates, hates you!"

"Really? You won't be able to feel that way for much longer!" Lord Voldemort sneered, raising his wand again, and a dark green light flashed.

"It's time to finish this! Potter! Avada Kedavra! (Avada Kedavra)" Lord Voldemort chanted softly, and a green beam of light shot from the tip of his wand.

The fear of death slowed Harry's heart, as he knew that the Shield Charm could not protect him from the Killing Curse, and his weakened body would not allow him to avoid it.

Death was close at hand, but Harry was reluctant to die in self-defence like his parents.

"EXPELLIARMUS ~ (Expelliarmus)" Harry screamed at the top of his lungs, waving his wand vigorously.