The Hidden Hero

In the weeks following Harry’s release from Azkaban, he pretended to be catatonic even when he was not living in Voldemort’s mind. He was usually left alone but, a few times a day, different nurses would check on him, calling his name but not expecting him to respond. Harry memorized the times of their rounds, and was careful to be quietly resting when they came by. Healer visits were rare, and Harry was easily able to avoid attracting their notice when they did take a quick look at him.

Whenever he was left alone, Harry exercised his body, pushing himself as hard as he could to recover his strength. More importantly than his physical exercises, Harry exercised his mental defenses. He had been worried that, whenever Voldemort was feeling an intense emotion, particularly anger, he was sucked through the tunnel into Voldemort’s thoughts whether he wanted to be there or not. Eventually, Harry thought, he and Voldemort would have a showdown and, unless he could kill Voldemort while the Dark Lord was sleeping (and how likely was that?!), Harry would be sucked into Voldemort’s mind, leaving his own body defenseless. If Harry couldn’t control whether or not he entered that tunnel in his mind, how could he hope to defeat Voldemort?

Each day, Harry practiced trying to control whether or not he entered the tunnel linking him to Voldemort and the length of time he stayed in Voldemort’s thoughts. The more intense Voldemort’s emotions, the harder it was for Harry to shut off the link between the Dark Lord and himself and stay in his own present. With Crouch captured by the Ministry, Harry had no lack of opportunity to practice. Voldemort was angry for days on end and his fury acted as a vacuum, trying to suction Harry into the Dark Lord’s mind.

Voldemort’s temper was razor thin and the Death Eaters lived in terror of displeasing their master. Harry thought that, ironically, when he killed Voldemort (which of course, he would do), it wouldn’t surprise him if some of the Death Eaters cheered loudest of all. They may have wanted a world without muggleborns, but Voldemort was as likely to kill a Death Eater as any muggleborn. “Serves them right,” Harry thought to himself. It was a twisted sort of justice.

About a month after Harry had arrived at St. Mungo’s, Voldemort attacked the Ministry. Harry had had no notice. He was visiting Voldemort’s mind when Nott told the Dark Lord that he had just learned that Crouch was being secured at the Ministry but that the Ministry was planning to transport Crouch to a different location that night. Without further notice, Voldemort rounded up his Death Eaters and attacked the Ministry.

Harry left Voldemort’s thoughts and jumped out of bed. He stood next to his hospital bed, leaning against it, and gathered his thoughts. His heart pounded and his mouth was dry. Was this it? The battle he was destined to have with Voldemort? Harry looked down at his empty hand. He had no wand. Without a wand, what could he do? The Ministry was already under attack. There was no one to warn. It had happened so quickly.

In frustration, he re-entered Voldemort’s mind to see what was happening. Nott and his Death Eater colleagues had done their job well. Voldemort and his followers were able to infiltrate the Ministry easily. Within just a few hours, the Ministry had fallen, Fudge was killed, and Ministry officials by the score lay dead. The survivors were captured or fled the building, leaving Voldemort in possession.

In victory, an ecstatic Voldemort released Crouch from the cell where he had been held for the past month. The Death Eater fell at his Master’s feet, kissing the hem of his robe. “I knew you would come, My Lord,” he breathed in worship.

Harry pulled back from Voldemort’s thoughts. He couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed. A coup! Voldemort had taken over the Ministry!

What should he, Harry, do? He was supposed to defeat Voldemort. He was supposed to be the savior. But, Voldemort had just brought down the Ministry. All those people killed! Nothing Harry did now would bring those people back. He had waited too long. He should have figured out a way to get a wand. He should have made his move against Voldemort before. It was all his fault.

Stop! Harry told himself. This type of thinking was exactly what Voldemort thrived on. It was not Harry’s fault that these people had died. It was Voldemort’s fault. Each person killed or harmed was just one more reason why it was so important for Harry to defeat Voldemort. He would conquer Voldemort when the time was right. Unfortunately, until that day, Voldemort would spread his poison of death and despair. But, Voldemort’s reign would come to an end. His days were numbered. Because it was only a matter of time before Harry killed him.

*

Voldemort moved to consolidate his power. His Death Eater squads rounded up and imprisoned any wizards not loyal to him. Any creatures who refused to join him – such as goblins and centaurs – were indiscriminately slaughtered. Known blood traitors and muggleborns went into hiding or ran to the safety of Hogwarts, the last bastion of resistance. The remnants of the Ministry fled there as well, using it as their base, and trying to regroup. With Fudge dead, Rufus Scrimgeour was serving as interim Minister.

Dumbledore permitted any student who wished to leave Hogwarts to do so. A number of purebloods did leave, believing that, under Voldemort’s regime, they’d be safer away from Hogwarts. The majority of students remained, with their families electing to join them at Hogwarts. While the adults worried that it was only a matter of time before Voldemort attacked Hogwarts, there seemed to be safety in numbers.

“It’s like a refugee camp,” muttered Scrimgeour, looking out over the assorted groups eating dinner about two weeks after the Ministry had fallen to Voldemort.

Dumbledore, sitting next to the interim Minister, followed Scrimgeour’s eyes. The Great Hall was host to about double the number of its usual occupants. Little children played in one corner of the room, in a makeshift nursery, while parents and grandparents joined students at the house tables. Food was simple as the house elves were stretched thin catering to so many guests.

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes. And I expect that more will come. It is lucky that Hogwarts is so big; housing shouldn’t be a problem. But, I am concerned about food. If Voldemort puts us under siege, we may quickly run out of food.”

Scrimgeour looked alarmed. “Do you think that’s what he’ll do?”

Dumbledore looked grave. “It is one of a number of unpleasant possibilities. Certainly, he will be looking for ways to bring Hogwarts to its knees.”

Scrimgeour was silent for a minute. Then, his voice low so that Dumbledore could hardly hear him, he said, “The situation is looking very bleak.”

Before Dumbledore could respond, there was a commotion at the entrance to the Great Hall. Death Eaters poured into the Hall. There were screams and shouts as the adults realized what was happening. Scrimgeour, Dumbledore, and a number of the Aurors, wands in hand, rose abruptly and faced the Death Eaters.

“Hold your spells!” called a high, cold voice. Voldemort strode into the room. He had his snake, Nagini, draped around his shoulders. Children started crying but the adults froze.

Voldemort strode to the front of the Great Hall, until he was facing Dumbledore and Scrimgeour. He smiled coldly at them both. “Put down your wands,” he ordered. “Look around you. If you fight me now, see how many innocent lives will be lost.”

Dumbledore looked quickly at the Death Eaters lining the perimeter of the Hall. Their wands were pointing at the children.

“You will kill them anyway,” accused Scrimgeour.

Voldemort smirked. “Some of them…maybe,” Voldemort admitted. “But, wizard blood is precious. I will let most of them live. But, if you fight me, many more will die.”

Slowly, Scrimgeour and Dumbledore lowered theirs wands. There were gasps throughout the Hall and a few scattered cries of “No!” Voldemort smiled. He raised his own wand and said, “Expelliarmus.” The Minister’s and headmaster’s wands flew into the air and the Dark Lord caught them easily. He laughed a cold laugh.

Pocketing his own wand and Scrimgeour’s, Voldemort caressed the wand that had previously been Dumbledore’s. Nagini uncurled and slithered down Voldemort’s body to the floor, where he curled around the foot of the head table. “Finally,” Voldemort whispered. “The Elder Wand is mine. I am unbeatable!” He laughed joyfully. Then, turning the wand on to Dumbledore, Voldemort shouted, “Crucio!”

Immediately, the headmaster fell down, writhing and screaming on the ground. Children started screaming and crying louder and some of the adults made to come to Dumbledore’s aid, but were halted by the Death Eaters’ wands pointing at them.

Cackling wildly, Voldemort lifted the curse. Panting heavily, Dumbledore got to his feet, assisted by Scrimgeour. Some of the other teachers would have come to him as well, but Voldemort gestured threateningly with his wand for them to stay where they were. Professors McGonagall and Sprout were crying. Professor Flitwick looked glassy-eyed, as if he were in shock.

Professor Snape, eyes glittering, held himself rigidly still. He knew that there was nothing he could do to save Dumbledore but he had to force himself not to react. He was devastated that, after all his years as a spy, he had not known that Hogwarts was to be attacked that night. But, since Snape had already been positioned at Hogwarts, Voldemort had not seen the necessity to summon the potions master to him to tell him of the plan to invade the school.

“You’re an evil madman,” said Scrimgeour, his voice tight. He knew that he and Dumbledore, and many other brave men and women, would soon be killed by Voldemort. He only hoped that Voldemort would spare the children. He stood up straight and refused to show fear.

“Madman, am I?” sneered Voldemort. “Still clever enough to enter Hogwarts under your very noses.”

Neither Scrimgeour nor Dumbledore wanted to give him the satisfaction of asking how he had managed to do this. But, Voldemort didn’t wait for them to question him. “I will tell you before I kill you,” he taunted. “There is a cabinet in the room above the caretaker’s office that forms a magical pathway with its twin, housed in the Borgin & Burkes shop in Diagon Alley. I learned of the cabinet when I was fresh out of school, first working at Borgin’s. I always knew that once I defeated the Ministry, that I would be able to take down Hogwarts by penetrating it from within. All I had to do was just walk right in. And, once I was in, it was a simple matter to bring down the wards.” Voldemort laughed again, in triumph.

Dumbledore clenched his jaw. This was it. The end. Voldemort had won.

Voldemort turned to face everyone. “I am your ruler now! I am supreme! No one can stop me!”

Death Eater cheers mingled with the cries of little children and the sobs of the older students and some adults.

“Actually,” said a clear, strong voice from the entrance to the Great Hall, “I can stop you and I will!”

*

Harry had been visiting Voldemort’s mind when the Dark Lord had first entered Borgin & Burkes. Reading Voldemort’s thoughts, Harry learned that Voldemort was going to invade Hogwarts and complete his plan for domination of the wizarding world in Britain. Harry forced himself to withdraw from the tunnel linking him to Voldemort. It was very difficult to do so, since the Dark Lord’s emotions were riding high. After “separating” from Voldemort, Harry had to catch his breath.

He had to get to Hogwarts! He forced himself not to think about Ron, Hermione, Ginny or any of his other friends. The way to protect them was to defeat Voldemort. He simply could not let Hogwarts fall to Voldemort. This was it! Today was the day he would bring down Voldemort! There was no doubt in his mind.

As he had realized when performing the three tasks in the Triwizard Tournament, waiting was always the hardest part. Now that the time to confront Voldemort had finally arrived, Harry was not frightened. He felt a sense of utter calm and certainty. His thinking was clear; he knew what he was going to do as if he had spent months planning.

He climbed out of bed and quickly put on his glasses. Harry pulled back a small section of the curtain separating his bed from the rest of the ward. The ward was sectioned into other similarly curtained off areas. In some, the curtains were drawn back and patients could look up and see Harry. But, these poor witches and wizards paid no attention to the boy. They rested in their beds and stared blankly at the ceiling or sat in chairs scattered around the room and stared equally blankly at the floor. No one even turned in Harry’s direction. It was dinnertime; the nurse on duty was in the far corner helping one of the other patients eat. Her back was to Harry and she didn’t notice him at all.

Quietly, the teen crossed to his nearest neighbor and opened the closet in that patient’s “room”. Harry took out a robe hanging there and pulled it on.

Harry looked over at the nurse whose back was to him. Her hands were busy holding a spoon and bowl as she encouraged a patient to eat. The Summoning Charm was one of the few wandless spells Harry had learned from Voldemort. Silently, Harry called, “Accio wand!” The nurse’s wand flew out of her pocket and into Harry’s hand. She didn’t even notice that it was gone.

Harry gripped the wand and closed his eyes for a brief moment. He had forgotten – or had not allowed himself to remember – the warm flow of energy that came from holding a wand. He had missed this!

Silently, the barefoot Harry went out of the room and down the corridor. At the end of the corridor was a heavy door, which was kept locked to prevent the patients from wandering. Harry whispered, “Alohamora!” and it opened with a click. Harry went down the stairwell, rather than taking the elevator, to avoid meeting anyone. He quickly reached the lobby and, casting a disillusionment spell on himself, went through the front door. Once outside the hospital, Harry found himself on a muggle street. The pavement felt cold against his bare feet.

Giving a mental probe, Harry confirmed his suspicions that the wards protecting St. Mungo’s did not extend beyond the building itself. Free of the anti-apparition wards, Harry gave a quick twist and apparated outside the gates of Hogwarts.

Harry’s heart gave a great lurch when he looked up at the castle. It seemed a lifetime ago that he had been there. He wasn’t sure how he felt. It was where he had lived some of his happiest memories but it was also where he had been most vilified. It was a haven and a hell.

Pulling his eyes from the castle, Harry looked at the gates protecting the grounds. The gates were open! The wards had already been dropped and the Death Eaters were even now inside! He had to hurry!

He entered the gates and ran across the grounds, the cold grass numbing his feet. He stumbled over a rock and fell down, scraping his knees and hands. Forcing himself to slow down, he tried to fly in the manner he and Voldemort had recently learned together – without a broom. It was a strange sensation and Harry wasn’t sure he liked it. He didn’t feel comfortable flying high above the ground, so he let his feet hover just a few inches above the grass. By gliding in this manner, he reached the front doors in minutes.

Slipping inside, he hesitated. He wanted to make his way to the Great Hall right away but he knew that he had something he had to do first. Working as quickly as possible, it was still over half an hour before he was able to return to the Great Hall.

There were two guards standing at attention flanking either side of the doors to the Great Hall. They didn’t turn at Harry’s approach and he remembered that he was still invisible, under the disillusionment charm. And, since he was hovering over the surface of the floor, they couldn’t hear any footsteps. Silently, Harry pointed his wand and thought, “Stupefy!” and the guards fell to the ground unconscious.

He entered the Great Hall and heard Voldemort explain how he had entered Hogwarts through the twin cabinets. As he entered the Hall, he felt the disillusionment charm lift Voldemort must have cast some protective spells so that people couldn’t use invisibility to enter the Hall without his knowing. But, no one noticed Harry as they were all looking at Voldemort. Voldemort had just turned to face everyone. He was lifting his arms in victory and proclaiming, “I am your ruler now! I am supreme! No one can stop me!”

Death Eater cheers mingled with the cries of little children and the sobs of the older students and some adults.

Here was the moment, thought Harry. This was truly it. He was going to confront Voldemort at last. “Actually,” he said, standing in the entrance to the Great Hall, “I can stop you and I will!”

Reaching deep inside to his magical core, Harry grabbed hold of that energy. He took advantage of the momentary shock of his pronouncement to point his wand into the center of the Great Hall and shout, “Expelliarmus!” Hundreds of wands – from Death Eaters, parents, students, teachers, and anyone else in the Hall-- flew toward him. Anticipating this, he quickly conjured a huge trunk, lid open, to sit on the floor next to him. He directed the wands toward the trunk and, as soon as all the wands had flown inside, Harry waved his wand and the lid slammed shut and locked with a deafening clank. The wands were sealed inside.

Only Voldemort still clutched his wand. Only the Dark Lord was clever enough, or paranoid enough, to keep a protective shield around himself at all times. The Expelliarmus spell had not worked on him.

A few of the Death Eaters closest to Harry, including Bellatrix Lestrange and the Death Eater he recognized as Nott, tried to grab him. He whipped his wand through the air and they were thrown backwards into the wall, where they slid to the floor, unconscious. A number of the adults sitting at the house tables started to rise.

Voldemort shouted, “No one move! The first person who moves is dead!” The room froze.

Slowly Voldemort walked down to the center of the Hall. He halted, looking directly at Harry. “Who dares to oppose me? Approach!”

Harry silently strengthened the protective shield he had cast around himself before he had entered the Hall. Slowly, but without hesitation, he moved up the center aisle of the Hall, approaching Voldemort. When he was close enough that Voldemort could see him clearly, the boy stopped and looked boldly at the Dark wizard.

“Mark!” Harry gazed quickly at the Gryffindor table at the group of students who had involuntarily called out his name. Ginny and Ron had their hands over their mouths, as if trying to force the word back in. Hermione was flushed and crying. The Weasley twins were looking shocked. Harry was vaguely aware that their parents were sitting with them, but his attention was all for Voldemort now.

“Mark Twist?” Voldemort asked in surprise. “I thought you were lying in St. Mungo’s --insane!”

Harry smiled. “No. I am perfectly sane, and here to kill you.”

From his vantage point at the head table, Dumbledore watched and felt his head reeling. How was it that Mark Twist was here? He, himself, had seen the boy at St. Mungo’s, completely catatonic. And, yet, here he was. Battling Voldemort.

Voldemort hissed. “Mudblood! You think you, a mudblood, can kill me? Me! The greatest wizard of all time! I will swat you like a fly!”

“Like Cedric Diggory?” asked Harry his voice razor sharp.

“Who? I don’t know who Diggory is. Another mudblood?”

Harry drew an angry breath. “No. He was a pureblood. He was the boy you killed when we were both transported to you after touching the Triwizard Cup. He was a better person than you could ever hope to be. But, he was an inconvenience to you and you killed him without a second thought. The way you have killed so many others.”

“I am above these petty concerns, boy. Why should I care about Diggory or any others I have killed? Who do you think you are to question me?”

Harry clenched his jaw. Through his teeth, he said, “I am the one who is going to stop you.”

Voldemort’s eyes burned red. “You foolish boy. You think that, because you were able to escape me before, you can defeat me? At our last meeting, our wands connected because they shared a common core, and the priori incantatem spell saved you. But, your wand has since been destroyed and I have exchanged my old wand for this one.” He held up the wand he had taken from Dumbledore. “This is the Elder Wand. Its master is unbeatable and I am its master.”

“I don’t care what wand you have,” said Harry. “I was born to kill you and I have waited all my life for this moment.”

Finally, after five long years, he lifted the glamour charm and the crowd watched, astounded, as the boy transformed in front of them. His hair turned black and messy. His nose shortened and his jaw became squarer. He grew taller and thinner. In a moment, a handsome young boy, not quite 16 years old, stood facing Voldemort. Behind his glasses, his vivid, emerald green eyes burned fiercely. Harry pushed back the hair on his forehead and his famous lightning-shaped scar was clearly visible.

Voldemort froze. “Harry Potter,” he breathed. His words, though quiet, easily reached every corner of the room. The very walls of the Great Hall seemed to shudder and hold their breath.

Dumbledore, who had been standing until this time, sat heavily down in his chair. His legs no longer could support him. Harry Potter! Here! Mark Twist was Harry Potter. The headmaster tried to get his mind around this revelation. But, one burning thought kept pushing itself to the front of his brain. The prophecy! Harry Potter was here at last and he was the one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord. Could their imminent defeat at the hands of Lord Voldemort actually turn completely around and would tonight end with Voldemort’s death instead?

Harry stood proudly in front of Voldemort, not replying. Harry radiated authority and strength. To the watching witches and wizards who had been afraid of dying just moments before, he seemed like a warrior Prince.

Voldemort had turned pale with anger and fear. Unbeknownst to the Dark Lord, Harry struggled not to be sucked into the tunnel in his head. “Your mother’s sacrifice bought you fifteen more years, Potter. But, today is the day that I finish what I planned to do all those years ago.” Voldemort raised his wand higher. While it was clear what he intended to do, and the audience watching caught their breaths, Harry actually lowered his wand, waiting. Incensed at this display of bravado by the teen, Voldemort hesitated no longer. He shouted, “Avada Kedavra!” and a blast of green light issued from his wand.

Harry did not try to evade the spell. He had known that Voldemort would cast the Killing Curse and, indeed, had been counting on just that happening. With a slight smile on his face, he took the blast straight on. He was vaguely aware of screams in the background but, when the spell hit him, he was aware of nothing more.

At first, everything was dark. Slowly, Harry noticed a point of bright light that seemed to spread the longer he looked at it. While the light blinded him momentarily, his eyes eventually became accustomed to the radiance and he realized he was not alone. Standing in front of him were two shadowy figures whose features slowly came into focus. He caught his breath as he realized that it was Lily and James Potter.

“Mom! Dad!” he breathed.

They smiled at him proudly. His mother was crying. Harry lurched forward and tried to hug them, but his arms went through them. They were as insubstantial as ghosts. He let out a cry of loneliness and pain.

“Harry,” said his father. “You cannot touch us because we are already in the world beyond.”

“But aren’t I dead?” Harry demanded. “Voldemort killed me! I knew he had to kill me in order to destroy the horcrux in me.”

“We are so proud of you, son,” said Lily. “You sacrificed yourself to defeat Voldemort. You are brave and good.”

Harry felt his heart swell with emotion. Here was the praise he had waited his whole life to hear.

James continued. “But you are not dead. You are not alive either. You have the choice now whether to go back or to come with us.”

“I want to come with you!” said Harry without hesitation.

Lily’s tears flowed more heavily. “Oh, son. We love you but we don’t want you to join us now. Go back and live your life. There will be time in the future, when you are an old man, to join us.”

“No!” said Harry. “There’s nothing for me back there. I want to stay with you!”

James looked sad now. “Harry, we want you to have a good life. We died to protect you so that you could live. But, even if you don’t want to go back for yourself, think about the people Voldemort will hurt if you don’t finish your task.”

Harry hesitated and then, in a voice that he feared contained more than a hint of desperation said, “Why must it be me? Why must I go back?”

“You are the only one who has the chance to kill him now. Yes, he might be killed in the future since you have helped pave the way. But, what about all the harm Voldemort can do before then, all the people he can kill, if you don’t stop him today?”

Harry started to feel a hard knot of grief form in his stomach. “I don’t want to leave you. I love you.”

Lily let out a wail of pain.

Trying to find a way to remain, Harry thought of a reason why he couldn’t return. “How can I go back anyway? Voldemort cast the Killing Curse. Why am I not dead?”

“Because you and Voldemort anchored each other to the living world. A piece of Voldemort’s soul was encased in you all these years and you, along with his other horcruxes, helped keep him from death. The opposite is also true. Voldemort keeps you tied to life since you are encased in him.”

“Me? Encased in Voldemort? What do you mean?” Harry’s voice rose shrilly. He always hated the idea of any part of Voldemort in him. The idea that a piece of him was in Voldemort too was horrifying.

“Don’t be alarmed, Harry,” soothed his mother. “You already knew this. You remember when Voldemort stole your blood the night he made a potion to return to his body?”

“Yes,” said Harry slowly.

“Well, your blood flowing through Voldemort’s veins acted in somewhat the same way as a horcrux for you. While Voldemort lives, he anchors you to the living world.”

“I don’t understand,” said Harry. “It can’t be that anyone can create a horcrux just be stealing a little blood from another wizard. Then no one would ever die!”

James shook his head. “We’re not explaining this very well. The magic is very subtle. It wasn’t just that you gave your blood to Voldemort. It was that this blood was used in a spell to create Voldemort’s new body. So, your blood is intrinsically linked to Voldemort’s very existence.”

“So he anchors me?” asked Harry, trying to understand.

Lily and James nodded. “That’s right,” said his mother.

“The important thing to understand is that, when Voldemort tried to kill you tonight, his curse killed that piece of his soul that was in you. You no longer anchor him to the living world,” James explained.

Harry smiled wryly, “Everything he did to try to kill me actually rebounded on him, didn’t it?”

Lily smiled back but it didn’t reach her eyes, which still shown with her tears. “I love you, Harry.” She turned and started to walk away, heading toward a tunnel in the distance that blazed with such bright light that it blinded Harry when he looked in its direction.

“I love you too, son,” whispered James. He turned to follow his wife.

“No, don’t go!” yelled Harry. He ran a few steps toward where his parents had stood but they were already gone. Harry stopped. He knew that he could follow them and enter the white tunnel through which they had disappeared. If he did so, he would be reunited with his parents and he wouldn’t have to worry about psychopathic evil wizards any more. Harry felt tears sliding down his cheeks.

“It’s not fair!” he yelled into the air. He sat down heavily on the ground and wiped the tears from his face. “It’s not fair,” he muttered again. “I want to stay with them.”

As if his mother were whispering in his ear, he heard her say, “We want you to have a good life, Harry. Try to be happy.”

Harry breathed heavily and, finally, nodded in decision. “I will return,” he said. Impatiently, he wiped the tears from his face. “I will finish killing Voldemort and then I’ll be free. I will try to be happy, as my parents wanted me to be. I’ll find something to live for. And, if I don’t find it, I’ll join my parents then.”

Taking a deep breath, Harry forced himself to focus on the Great Hall, and imagining himself back there. Soon, it was a reality and he felt the hard stone floor beneath his body. He had been thrown on the ground by the force of the Killing Curse. Slowly, he stirred and he heard people shouting around him, “He’s alive! Potter is alive! It didn’t kill him!”

Slowly, he raised his head and looked toward Voldemort. The spell had apparently knocked the Dark Lord off of his feet as well. He was being helped to his feet by some of his supporters, but he was angrily shrugging away their assistance. He was still clutching the Elder Wand he had seized from Dumbledore but the other wands that had been in his robe had fallen to the ground. Harry saw Barty Crouch seize Scrimgeour’s and Draco Malfoy scooped up Voldemort’s old wand.

Voldemort ignored his supporters. He looked toward Harry and his eyes were glowing red.

Harry quickly scrambled to his feet, clutching his wand. Shrugging, he smirked at Voldemort, knowing that he was angering the older wizard. “You forget, Tom. I am the Boy-Who-Lived,” he taunted.

Voldemort shook with anger. “You are not immortal. And, you can be hurt.” Swishing his wand swiftly through the air, he cried, “Crucio!”

Harry ducked and the spell flew over his head. “Temper, temper,” Harry scolded. “I’m surprised at you, Tom. Really I am. After all these years, and all the times we’ve met. What is it now? Four times before tonight? And, you have nothing you want to ask me? You’re not curious at all about how I escaped you?”

Voldemort hesitated. He seemed to consider what Harry had said. “I know how you escaped me when you were a baby,” he said slowly. “I miscalculated and forgot that your mother’s sacrifice would protect you. This was old magic. You got lucky in our previous meetings; your continued existence is more due to my mistakes than to any talent on your part.”

Harry snorted. “And tonight, Tom? What about tonight?”

Voldemort’s nose flared at Harry’s continued use of the name “Tom”. It was clear that Voldemort was thrown by Harry’s failure to die but he wasn’t willing to admit ignorance. He watched the boy with narrowed eyes. Finally, slowly, he said, “You may be right, Potter. Perhaps I have underestimated you. You have managed to survive far longer than I would have thought possible. Instead of trying to kill you, I would have done better to invite you to join me. Tonight is the beginning of a new regime. You can be part of that new world order.”

Tension filled the Hall. Harry knew that many of the people watching were worried that he would indeed turn out to be a Dark wizard after all. If he elected to join Voldemort, all was lost.

“You are right,” said Harry, quietly. Voldemort started to smile in triumph. Harry continued, “Tonight is the beginning. It is the beginning of a new world without the threat of you in it.”

Voldemort narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “You stand for the Ministry? For Dumbledore? They didn’t do anything to protect you. Why trust them?”

“I trust no one!” Harry said fiercely. “I can count on myself alone!”

Harry’s voice rang through the Hall. It felt like a condemnation of everyone there.

Scrimgeour shifted uncomfortably. He felt a quick stab of guilt at Harry’s words. But, he reminded himself, he had not been responsible for sending Harry to Azkaban. “No,” said a little voice in his head. “But, the Ministry was. And, while you argued in favor of releasing him, it was touch and go for a while whether you would have agreed with Fudge and left him there. You know you would have done so if you thought that the truth would never have been revealed to the public.”

Scrimgeour looked over at Dumbledore. The older wizard looked very pale and ill.

Voldemort smiled slyly. In a soft, cajoling voice, he continued, “Then why reject me so quickly? I can offer you immortality! Power beyond your dreams!”

Harry laughed but there was no amusement in the sound. “Immortality! When I desire nothing more than the peace of death?! The hardest thing I’ve ever done was to return to this world just now, after you had ‘killed’ me. I wanted nothing more than to follow my parents into the world beyond. Immortality! You could offer me little I’d desire less!”

Dumbledore’s breath caught in his throat. To know that the boy desired nothing more than death illustrated all too clearly how much Harry had suffered. Dumbledore’s eyes clouded at the knowledge that he was to blame for much of Harry’s misery.

Harry continued. “And power! What do I want of power? As soon as I kill you, I will be free of my duty to this world. I intend to leave it and never return! I hope never to hear the word ‘magic’ again!”

As scared as people were of attracting attention, there was a rustling and intake of many breaths at Harry’s pronouncement. Even Voldemort was so surprised, he asked in genuine curiosity, “You would leave the wizarding world? To do what? Join the muggles? Why?”

“I grew up with muggles and expected little from them. My aunt and uncle…you’ve heard how wonderful they were! But, when I first learned about the wizarding world, I was so excited. I thought it would be a good and noble world. With magic, I thought that people could help each other and be kind. I thought…I’d find friends, and people who would care. I thought I’d find a home. But, it was all a lie. You didn’t rise to power in a vacuum. You found fertile ground for your ‘new world order’ in the racism and prejudice that pervade this world.

“It was the wizards in this world who left me to be raised by my abusive relatives. It was the wizards in this world who turned on ‘Mark Twist’ because he was muggleborn…like my mother! It was the wizards in this world who sentenced an innocent boy to Azkaban without a trial! I have no desire to stay here. I have no wish to live in this world any longer!”

Voldemort looked at Harry calculatingly. “So, why not leave now? Why interfere here? If you don’t wish to be a part of the wizarding world, this is not your fight.”

Harry shook his head. “I’ve seen what you are. I’ve seen the wizards and muggles you’ve tortured and killed. This isn’t just a wizard fight. I know that you must be stopped, no matter what. And, even if this were just about the wizarding world, I’d still not stop until you were defeated.”

Voldemort huffed in disgust. “A bloody little hero.”

The word was like a fire under Harry. He narrowed his eyes and said through gritted teeth, “Yes! That’s what I am! I am the hero!”

It was as if an electric shock had run through the crowd. Harry’s words were like a promise. Many in the audience started to believe, for the first time since Harry had appeared, that Harry was going to win.

Seeking to distract Harry, Crouch, who had been standing behind Voldemort, turned without warning toward the nursery in the corner and raised the wand that had fallen from Voldemort’s pocket. “Incendia Maligna!” he yelled. A blast of flame shot out of his wand.

This was no ordinary fire. Crouch had summoned Fiendfyre. The flames, a vivid burning orange, took on the shape of various dark creatures, dragons, lethicores, and snakes, as they roared with deadly purpose toward the children. But, Harry had trained under Voldemort for almost a year. He was intimately familiar with the Dark Arts and, with lightning fast reflexes, Harry raised his arms and brought his wand down with a powerful sweep.

The fire sucked inward as if it had met a mighty wind. It reached its point of origin and flared up with a fiery explosion, swallowing Crouch and a few Death Eaters standing next to him. It also caught Nagini, as the snake had been slithering close to Crouch at the time. The flame vanished, leaving behind a small pile of ash.

It had happened so quickly, people barely had time to react to the danger to their children before the danger was past. Parents started to scramble out of their seats when Voldemort screamed, “Stay where you are!” and they froze again. Mothers started sobbing louder. The children, who had frozen upon seeing the flames heading their way, started to cry with fright and call for their parents.

“Silencio!” Voldemort waved his wand and silence descended. Children’s mouths were still open, as they cried, but no sound issued.

Harry ignored the hysteria around him and stared fixedly at the spot where Crouch and the others had last stood. Finally, he raised his eyes to Voldemort and said coldly, “You’ve even done this to me. Turned me into a killer!”

Dumbledore started in his chair. He wanted desperately to tell Harry that killing in self-defense or defense of others didn’t make Harry a killer.

“I will make you pay!” hissed Voldemort.

Harry laughed wildly. There was an edge of hysteria to the sound. “Make me pay! What else can you do to me? You’ve killed my parents! You imprisoned me in Azkaban! You made me wish I’d never been born!”

Suddenly, a scared, trembling voice yelled, “Drop your wand, Potter, or I’ll kill her!” Harry whipped around and saw Draco pointing the other wand Voldemort had dropped at Hermione. Hermione looked terrified and Draco looked equally so.

“Good boy, Draco!” purred Voldemort. “So, Harry, what’s it to be? Are you going to let Draco kill your little friend? Even you cannot move fast enough to stop him. Drop your wand!”

Harry didn’t move. He stared intently at Draco. Draco shook like a leaf. Quietly, Harry spoke directly to the other boy. “Now’s the time for you to make a choice, Draco. This is the fork in the road. You must choose whether you will be a Death Eater or come back from that darkness.”

Draco looked haunted. “I…I already…”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what you chose to do before. I know you have the Dark Mark. But, that will be forgiven if you turn back now. You don’t really want to help him, Draco. I’ve seen what he’s done to you…and what he’s made you do.”

Draco turned pale and hesitated. “He’ll kill my family,” he whispered. It was clear he wanted to believe Harry.

Harry smiled serenely. “No, he won’t. I will kill him tonight.”

Voldemort let out a roar of rage. Draco flicked his eyes fearfully to his father’s and then to Voldemort’s. Lucius was off in a corner, drawn in upon himself. He didn’t say anything and it was hard to guess what he wanted Draco to do. But, Harry noted, the Death Eater wasn’t encouraging his son to take Voldemort’s side. Harry thought briefly that Voldemort’s cruelty, even to his own followers, had turned them against him. Lucius was no longer the ardent supporter of Voldemort that he had been when the Dark Lord had first been reborn.

As if compelled by the force of Harry’s confidence, Draco looked back at the other boy. “Are you sure?” he begged for assurance.

Harry spoke loudly and without any hesitation, his voice ringing with conviction. “You can bet on it.”

Draco lowered his wand and took a step backward. Voldemort let out another scream of fury.

“Crucio!” he screamed, casting the spell toward Draco. Anticipating the curse, Harry erected a barrier between Draco and Voldemort and the curse bounced harmlessly away. Voldemort was furious but his attention was, once more, focused on Harry.

“You filthy little mudblood!” he shrieked. “You think that you can stop me?!” With a slashing movement of his wand, he shouted, “Stupefy!”

Harry shouted, “Echo Magnus!” Voldemort’s spell bounced off the shield Harry had conjured and rebounded upon Voldemort, knocking the Dark Lord off his feet.

Harry walked over to Voldemort who was lying on his back and the teen crouched down on the balls of his feet. Looking down at his nemesis, Harry asked softly, “Are you taking me seriously yet?”

Then, he got up and walked a few steps away. Voldemort regained his feet. The Dark Lord was flushed with anger and a hint of fear. “How did you know that spell?” he whispered. “That’s a new spell that I just invented. How did you learn it?”

“Why you taught it to me,” said Harry, facing Voldemort.

“What do you mean?” Voldemort demanded.

“You created your own worst enemy, Tom,” continued Harry. “If you hadn’t tried to kill me when I was a baby, you wouldn’t have left a piece of your soul in me. For the last year, I’ve been living inside your head. I have learned your secrets. You have been an excellent teacher.”

Voldemort’s voice became hoarser with fear. “You can see inside my head?”

Harry faced him calmly. “Rest easy, Tom. When you cast the Killing Curse at me earlier, you killed that piece of your soul residing in me.” Voldemort looked fearful and Harry smiled wryly. “Yes, a mixed blessing, wasn’t it? You certainly didn’t want me continuing to see inside your mind but the cure was perhaps worse than the disease. After all, losing a part of your soul, Tom…that is dangerous.”

Slowly, Harry reached inside his robe and withdrew an object. He let it fall on the floor with a clank. Helga Hufflepuff’s cup. Harry reached inside again and this time let Slytherin’s locket fall to the floor. Voldemort staggered, as if suddenly lightheaded. Dumbledore half-rose from his seat, his eyes blazing. Harry reached inside his robe yet again and took out Slytherin’s ring, which fell to the floor with a little tinkle of sound. Harry reached inside one last time and took out Ravenclaw’s diadem. This, too, he let fall from his fingers to join its brothers on the floor. The objects were all black and clearly damaged.

Voldemort’s mouth was half open and he was breathing in short gasps. Voldemort raised unseeing eyes to Harry’s and the teen answered the unspoken question. “I have destroyed them all, Tom. You have no horcruxes left.” A few of the wizards who knew what a horcrux was gasped, finally understanding the significance of the items on the floor.

“How? How?” Voldemort was stunned and couldn’t frame his question clearly.

Harry pulled a basilisk tooth from his pocket. “I knew that basilisk venom was able to destroy a horcrux, Tom. After all, I used it to destroy your diary when I was only twelve. I told you that I knew your secrets. I knew that, when you entered Hogwarts tonight, you planned on hiding your remaining horcruxes in the Secret Room before joining your Death Eaters in the Great Hall. Before I came here, I went first to the Chamber of Secrets, where I found some basilisk fangs, still there from years ago. I took some fangs with me to the Secret Room which I knew how to enter from having read your thoughts. I used the basilisk venom to destroy the horcruxes you had hidden there. Only Nagini was left and, as you can see, she’s dead too.” Harry gestured toward the pile of ash on the floor.

“I’ve already told you that you unwittingly split your soul again, when you tried to kill me as a baby. You killed that part of your soul yourself, when you cast the Avada Kedavra tonight. So, now you have no more horcruxes, Tom. There is nothing to keep you anchored to this world once you are killed. You will be well and truly dead.”

Voldemort was shaken but he tried to hide it. “No matter. I will create more horcruxes tonight. I will use your death to create the first.”

Harry stared back calmly. Voldemort raised his wand but was clearly unsure whether to chance casting the Killing Curse again. He lowered the wand slightly and tried once more to convince the boy to join him. “If you’ve lived inside my head this past year, then you must realize that there is much that I can teach you. Don’t be a fool! You owe these people nothing! Join me and I will continue to teach you everything I know.”

The boy looked at Voldemort with sadness. “You’ve been my refuge this last year,” he admitted. “What a frigging irony! You wanted me dead and cast me to the Dementors. Yet you were the reason that I didn’t die from them.”

Voldemort seized on Harry’s explanation. “Harry! Perhaps this was meant to be! I was your savior, wasn’t I? A mentor. A father of sorts. Let me continue to be your guide.”

Harry’s eyes blazed. “You’re not my father. You killed my father! You are evil and I will not stop until you are defeated!”

Voldemort lost some of his control. He threw an entrails expelling curse at Harry, which the boy deflected by summoning an iron shield from one of the suits of armor standing in the corner of the room. When Voldemort’s spell hit the shield, it gave off a low gong sound. Taking advantage of the fact Voldemort had lowered his own magical shield in order to cast the spell, and Harry quickly muttered a Switching Spell of his own.

Voldemort realized immediately that something had changed. He looked down at the wand in his hand and realized that he was no longer holding the Elder Wand, but an unknown wand. “What?! Where’s my wand? What have you done?” He glared at Harry.

“Magic,” Harry taunted. “You’re right, Tom, it really is a nice wand.” He twirled the Elder Wand in his hand, driving Voldemort ever more wild with fury.

Voldemort gave a sudden twist of his body, trying to apparate away. Harry shook his head. “That won’t work, Tom. I’ve restored the anti-apparition wards you took down. Tonight is the night that this ends. There’s no running away. This is it.”

“I will kill you! You cannot win!” screamed Voldemort.

“You are wrong. I cannot lose,” said Harry evenly, confidence radiating from him.

Driven by his rage, Voldemort shouted once again, “Avada Kedavra!” Harry quickly flew out of the way of the spell, flying without a broom as Voldemort had taught him. As Harry dodged out of the way, Voldemort’s curse hit the barrier behind Harry, the barrier formed by the Echo Magnus spell that Harry had cast earlier – the spell Voldemort himself had taught Harry. As Harry had hoped, Voldemort had completely forgotten it was still there.

When the spell hit the force field, it richocheted back to Voldemort, hitting him solidly in the chest. It killed him instantly and his body fell backwards with a loud thump. His arms and legs splayed wide and his eyes gazed sightlessly up at the ceiling. He was dead.

At first there was utter silence. Then, a rumbling began and built up slowly until it was a deafening roar. Screams and shouts filled the room. “He’s dead! You Know Who’s dead! Potter killed You Know Who!”

Harry stared at Voldemort’s body in slight shock. He had known without a doubt that he would kill Voldemort that night but the reality was still hard to absorb. He was aware that hundreds of eyes were staring at him, looking back and forth from him to Voldemort’s dead body, unable to believe their eyes and the sudden change in fortune. One moment, Voldemort was poised to take over the wizarding world. The next, he was dead.

Dumbledore and Scrimgeour were hurrying around the head table, approaching Voldemort’s body to confirm that he was really dead. Throughout the Hall, people were rising from the tables. The parents whose children were in the nursery section were rushing to retrieve their children, hugging them tightly. Death Eaters started fleeing the Great Hall, but a number of the Aurors ran after them, and started rounding them up.

Pandemonium reigned. A few people approached Harry and tentatively reached out to touch him, but, not sure of their welcome, pulled back before they made contact.

Harry felt lightheaded. He had been so focused upon defeating Voldemort, he didn’t quite know how to handle the reality that he had succeeded. It was over.

Suddenly, the Weasleys and Hermione were there. “Harry…Mark…Harry…” began Ron. He stopped, unsure how to even begin.

“Harry,” the other boy confirmed.

“Harry,” Ron continued. “We’re so sorry…”

Harry shook his head to stop his friend from saying any more.

“You tried your best to free me,” said Harry. “You don’t have to say anything. I understand.”

Ginny stepped forward a pace. She, too, had so much she wanted to say and could only manage, “Please, don’t…”

Harry’s eyes were full of pain as he said, “I can’t stay here. I can’t.”

“I…We’re your friends.” The Weasleys and Hermione nodded their heads vigorously, in agreement.

“It’s not enough,” he said bluntly. They looked stricken. Ginny, in particular, looked like she’d been slapped. Harry tried to explain better. “It’s not about you…any of you. I’m just filled with such pain and…rage. I need to get away from here.”

And then, there was Dumbledore, with Scrimgeour right behind the headmaster’s left shoulder. The Hall started to quiet as people strove to listen.

“Harry,” said Dumbledore in a low voice, regret tingeing every word. “I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you. Please let us make it up to you.”

Harry’s eyes blazed as he released the bitterness of the last months. “I have no interest in listening to anything you or the rest of the wizarding world have to say. Actions speak louder than words. My relatives hated me because I was a wizard and plenty in the wizarding world hated me because they thought I was muggleborn. Everywhere I turn, I am caught in the crossfire of hatred and intolerance.”

Dumbledore tried to reach through Harry’s fury. “Harry, you have every right to be angry. Voldemort tapped into all that was twisted and wrong in our world. He exposed the worst in us but there is good too.”

Harry shook his head in rejection of Dumbledore’s words. “I did what I had to do – I killed Voldemort -- but I am not willing to forgive or forget.” He gave a huff of disgust, recalling his innocent self. “I used to dream that I’d save everyone from Voldemort and people would cheer me as a hero.”

Dumbledore nodded emphatically, “You will be honored as a hero, Harry.”

Harry just shook his head. His green eyes blazed. “I was a child when I had those dreams. I’m not a child anymore.” He looked over at the still body of Voldemort lying on the ground. “Go on. Celebrate. He’s dead and I am now free to start over. I need to find somewhere I can belong.”

Realizing what he intended, a number of voices throughout the Hall called out “No!”

“You belong here! Let us prove it. Don’t turn away from us,” implored Dumbledore.

Harry removed the anti-apparition wards protecting Hogwarts. Then, he handed Dumbledore the Elder Wand. “This is yours. I don’t need it anymore.”

Dumbledore took the wand. He looked down at the gleaming wood and then back at the boy. It was clear he was considering trying to prevent Harry from leaving.

The boy smiled sadly. “I’m already gone,” he said. And without another word, he disapparated.