A/N - There's really no way this can be drawn out any longer! I just wanted the full emotional impact of what was going on to be established, and of course also to draw up the whole Horcrux sub-plot. For those new to The Final Countdown because of the long wait, I encourage you to go back and read the rest of the story. I know it has been a long time, but having re-read the story it still holds up, and I'm quite proud of it. Please leave a review!
Voldemort thrashed his wand hand forward like a snake, firing a vicious volley of spells at Harry.
In one smooth motion, Harry whipped up a Shield Charm across his body that caught and absorbed all of them.
They paced each other slowly in a wide circle, some thirty metres apart, ignoring the driving rain and the hundreds of spectators.
Harry responded with a quick burst of Stunning Spells, but Voldemort summoned a jet of flame from his wand that devoured them.
It was as if they were feeling each other out, each of them testing the other's alertness and defences.
Ron and Hermione had been escorted to sit just behind the Hogwarts teachers. They jumped and flinched with every exchange, Hermione especially.
Harry dodged another spell, this one wordless and dark red in colour, and quickly shot back a Disarming Spell, hoping to catch Voldemort before he had fully re-established his footing. Not surprisingly, he caught and parried the spell away with ease.
"Is this all that they can teach you in six years, Potter?" Voldemort jeered.
Harry said nothing, concentrating only on the movements of Voldemort's wand. So far he had coped well, even surprisingly so. For so long Harry carried with him the idea that he would be quickly overwhelmed by Dark magic. But so far, he was holding his own. Maybe he really was Voldemort's equal after all…
Voldemort unleashed another torrent of fire, this one much larger and more powerful. Harry bolted up into the air and performed a perfect Dagonet Leap, flipping over and landing some twenty metres behind Voldemort. As he landed he aimed and released a blast of ice, that Voldemort blocked with a Shield Charm of his own.
"I find your cheap spells and parlour tricks amusing, Potter," Voldemort said, "but they will not save you."
Be patient, Harry, he told himself. He's only getting frustrated, don't follow him.
Voldemort pointed his wand into the ground, conjuring a snake. It began to slither towards Harry with impossible speed, but he was ready. Before it could strike, Harry ignited his wand-blade and swung at its neck as it jumped up, splitting it in half. As it thrashed its way into death, Voldemort fired another wandless spell, which Harry caught and blocked with the blade.
Voldemort fired again, and Harry was able to parry the spell back at him. Voldemort simply raised his wand to meet the spell bolt, absorbing it back into his wand.
And so they continued, in a steady pattern of curse-block-counter. Harry remained calm, allowing his mind to work. He found himself calling on almost every spell, jinx and curse he had ever learnt, spanning his entire history at Hogwarts and in the magical community as a whole. Flashes of the last six years flitted across his mind as he ducked and dodged, blocking spells and throwing others back…
Hagrid telling him he was a wizard…
Meeting Ron and Hermione for the first time…
Confronting that troll…
Encountering Sirius…
The Tri-wizard Tournament…
The Department of Mysteries…
Beginning the search for the Horcruxes…
Telling Hermione that he loved her…
Voldemort blocked yet another jinx with gritted teeth, his eyes narrowed in anger. He breathed in growls, beginning to realise that Harry was equal to almost anything he could throw at him.
But then again, Harry began to realise, Voldemort wasn't alone.
Voldemort looked around the pitch, where his Death Eaters lined the edges. He magically amplified his voice, and growled, "Pin him down."
In horror, Harry cast his wand across himself, turning around endlessly and taking aim at the advancing storm. The ring of Death Eaters, maybe thirty or forty in total, began to slowly advance on him across the soaked, sodden pitch.
Oh Merlin, what do I do?
Across from him, Voldemort took a few paces back and lowered his wand. He wanted to enjoy this…
Harry searched his mind for something.
There's just so many of them…
And they were getting closer.
Harry levelled his wand straight ahead at the nearest Death Eater, some twenty metres and closing. He'd take him down, move to the left and then…
One of the advancing Death Eaters leapt up into the air.
He flipped over himself, leaping over the circle of advancing Death Eaters and coming in to land ahead of them.
A blue wand-blade flashed to life.
He landed in a forward roll, sweeping the blade across and slashing two Death Eaters across the chest.
They all stopped.
With his free hand, the Death Eater reached up and yanked off his mask.
It was David Adams.
As Voldemort took in what was happening, as Harry did, David tore hurriedly at his cloak, throwing it aside just as Voldemort shouted, "Kill him!"
Spells and curses rained down on David; he turned and dodged, blocking many of them and deflecting them away from Harry. With one brief look at Harry, David jumped up into the air, landing some thirty metres away, drawing the Death Eaters onto him.
Harry turned back to Voldemort just in time to dodge a curse.
Now it was a fight on two fronts.
* * * * *
David flipped over a Death Eater and caught him across the neck with his blade, landed and blocked one, two curses before turning around and slicing at another Death Eater, taking him down with a searing slash diagonally across the torso.
Keep moving, just keep moving.
This was what the Auror Office had sent him to do, ever since the Hogwarts duelling incident; infiltrate the Death Eaters. From that point a final confrontation like this seemed inevitable, and David knew that the best way to give Harry support was to appear as one of them. For all the good it was doing him right now…
He tried to keep half an eye on Harry every time he repositioned; for now, he seemed to be holding up alright. But he knew Voldemort could turn a duel on its head in a heartbeat…
David rolled forward, knocking another Death Eater off his feet and quickly stabbing him, bringing his blade back up to block a fresh volley of curses. Every time, he had only seconds before they started to close in on him, becoming too close for comfort. It was just a matter of cutting down their numbers, making things more manageable. There was no telling what number of reinforcements Voldemort might have had in reserve…
* * * * *
Harry felt himself losing ground, each spell being blocked or dodged with fewer and fewer milliseconds to spare. Voldemort had stepped up his intensity, throwing out faster and harsher volleys, and it seemed like he could go much farther.
Harry ducked another curse, but the force of it made him stagger back. His wand hand dropped, only for a second…
"Crucio!" The blast burst from Voldemort's wand, and to Harry it even seemed in slow motion…
A blue bolt of energy flew from across the pitch and slammed against it just before it reached Harry, exploding the curse with a concussive force that knocked Harry back onto the wet grass. He rolled backwards, dodging another curse by mere inches, blocking another as he sprung to his feet.
His back foot slipped on the wet mud…
"AARRRGGHHHH!" Harry had been caught. The pain was excruciating, invading every nerve ending and synapse, multiplying and intensifying. He thrashed and writhed on the ground, his wand flying out of his hand.
Just before Harry lost consciousness, the last thing he remembered hearing was Voldemort;
"AVADA…"
* * * * *
Voldemort felt a strong shove in the back, pushing him forward and throwing off his aim. His wand discharged a weak, pale green bolt that flew harmlessly into the air.
As Harry lapsed into unconsciousness, Voldemort's attention was turned to the insolent boy cutting into his Death Eaters, who dared to stop him from completing his destiny and killing the Potter boy.
* * * * *
David knew without looking that his wandless Disarming Spell caught Voldemort in the back. If all it had done was throw off his aim, that was good enough for him. Whereas the Death Eater ranks seemed endless, now he knew there were only eight or so left in the fight. But the ones that were left had held out this long for a reason, and David knew he had to dig even deeper to catch them off-guard.
His blue wand-blade moved unceasingly; he cut down one, two, jumped up and over to land, knocked back a few spells that caught one of his assailants square in the chest, and moved on. He had to be patient, find a way inside and then…
A spell flew over his head, some five feet wide.
David turned around and effortlessly blocked another from the same Death Eater, tall and gangly, sending the spell right back into his face.
The spell knocked his mask right off. It was Draco Malfoy.
David recognised his cold, pale face, "Oh, piss off."
With his free hand, David drew back and threw out a strong Disarming Spell that pitched Malfoy back into the air, slamming him hard against that grotesque statue of Voldemort, back first.
One more down.
* * * * *
Voldemort simply observed this newcomer as he rounded on the few remaining Death Eaters. Their losses did not matter to him; they could easily be replaced.
Who was this boy? And where did he learn what he is doing? Voldemort decided that, before killing him, he would uncover this secret, and make his strengths his own.
Harry lay forgotten behind him as Voldemort watched the last Death Eater, Macnair, engage the invader, cutting into his magical sword with his great scythe, spinning and hacking and slashing. Voldemort had long considered him a feckless, ill-cultured brute, but if his sheer power was enough to overwhelm the boy then so be it. He would simply have to stop Macnair from cutting him in half before the…
Voldemort simply raised an eyebrow as his opponent caught Macnair by surprise, pushing him back. Eventually he caught Macnair's scythe with just the right block, and Voldemort could see events unfold before it happened. He forced the scythe around in a circle and into the thick stone of his own monument, before slicing Macnair hard across the neck. Sparks flew out of his charred skin as he collapsed pathetically in a heap.
The boy began to turn around…
* * * * *
Suddenly and immediately, David's head filled with a familiar feeling. It felt heavy and bloated, like his brain had turned to liquid and was swimming about his eyes…
He's in my head…
A few seconds later the sensation subsided. He opened his eyes, and found himself down on his knees, his wand a couple of feet from his hand. David looked up, and saw Voldemort standing there, looking straight at him.
Harry was unconscious behind him, but still breathing.
Good…just need to keep him a bit longer.
David stood up slowly, checking his body was still in working order. His eyes locked with Voldemort, he opened his right hand for his wand to fly up into it. Taking a deep, steadying breath, David began to walk forward.
Every step closer felt like a step towards his doom. But maybe not…maybe I can take him…
Voldemort cast his free hand across the sky, throwing up a pink-tinged barrier between himself and David. The Auror stopped some ten feet short of it; Voldemort was about the same distance away.
"You fight well, but now all your secrets are mine…David."
David flinched slightly at the sound of his own name. What he was determined not to have happen was now done.
Voldemort's face contorted gruesomely into a smile, "Are you ready to lay down and die before Lord Voldemort?"
"I'm not dying today." David said calmly.
"You insolent little fool!" Voldemort said, "What hope do you have, when I know everything you can possibly use against me?"
David had no answer.
"You must sense it, you must realise by now…you are doomed."
David could sense it. The corner of his eye caught one of the columns of Dementors, guarding the massed ranks of Hogwarts and the Ministry.
Yeah…but at least I can do something about that.
He closed his eyes and focussed, concentrating hard. He raised his arms, fingers tensed and outstretched, rising slowly towards the raining night sky…
The heavy, pelting rain intensified further.
The rumbling of thunder became louder.
Blinding bolts of lightning thrashed into the night sky, one after another.
The Dementors reacted uneasily, casting their faceless forms about wildly…and then floating up into the sky and away, desperately trying to escape the lightning.
David opened his eyes, and the sky began to calm, the rain becoming more steady.
A fresh surge of pride filled David's soul. He felt the hope, the passion, return to him as the Dementors and their influence faded away. He felt unstoppable.
He ignited his wand blade.
He heard a roar emanate from a corner of the stadium, joined quickly by another. Soon a wave of raucous support, openly defiant, filled all the stands.
Voldemort sneered at David, raising his wand to levitate in front of him. It began to spin, quicker and quicker…until a blood-red blade emerged from each end.
Voldemort gripped his newly-formed staff and held it ready.
David kept his own sword down, bouncing on the heels of his feet…come on…
The barrier was lifted. The duel was on.
* * * * *
David surged forward and swung at Voldemort once, twice, both times facing a strong block. Voldemort parried and countered with lightning reflexes, but David still pressed the attack, chopping with a speed and ferocity he had never used before. Voldemort forced a counter, chopping at David's sides, forcing him to manoeuvre his wand-blade fully across his body with milliseconds to spare.
David broke the attack and pushed Voldemort back, attacking again with a greater variety of blows in the hopes that Voldemort hadn't read his mind fully. But he found the Dark Lord equal to them all, blocking in just the right way, at just the right angles.
David tried a feint, forcing Voldemort to position for a block, for a blow that never came. Instead, David swung up from the underside, and caught the bottom of Voldemort's wand just before he could pull it fully out of reach. His blade sliced through the wood, taking maybe half an inch off the back end, but more importantly taking one of his red blades with it.
Voldemort reacted instinctively, infuriated. He launched a fresh offensive using his one remaining blade, but David not had more time to react and the ability to focus on just one blade. He leapt up and over, trying to slash through Voldemort's back but only catching the flailing edges of his dark robes. He rounded on the young Auror and pressed the attack, but David caught one of his strikes just the right way.
He batted it aside, knocking the blade down.
He swung ferociously at Voldemort's head…and missed.
Voldemort caught the follow-up downswing with his blade, deadlocking them.
Their eyes locked as David willed every ounce of strength into breaking the impasse.
Voldemort smiled cruelly as he took one hand off his wand…but still maintaining the strength to deadlock David's wand.
That instant was when David knew he was doomed.
Voldemort winded up his left hand, the magical energy visible in his clenched fist before he shot forward…
David was pitched high up into the sky in an instant, unable to stop himself or control his flailing limbs.
Just as he began to fall, he felt his whole body freeze, hanging suspended in mid-air. Against his own will, his arms and legs spread out from his body. He found himself looking up at the sky, spread-eagled.
He heard Voldemort's voice beneath him, once again amplified, "This is what happens to all who will oppose me from this day forward! Let this fool's death serve as a demonstration!"
Voldemort levelled his wand up at David and fired a blast of lightning. The stream impacted David's body and travelled across his clothing and skin. David screamed in pure agony, writhing against his invisible bonds. On and on it went, for seconds that stretched into an eternity.
Voldemort stopped, and sneered up at his captured prey, "You never…never…stood a chance!"
He fired another surge, and David's battered body once again fell victim to the most excruciating pain. The screams became higher-pitched, blood-curdling in their volume and intensity.
When it ended, David's exhausted mind struggled to keep his eyes open. Every ounce of energy had been drained from him. He knew what was coming next…
"Do you have any last words?" Voldemort asked triumphantly.
David's eyes cast down as much as they could.
He could just about make out a prone figure on the wet ground beginning to stir.
And he saw his own wand only a few feet away from him.
Alright…that's my job done.
"Yeah…" David growled through the pain, "One…nil…to the Arsenal…"
Above him, the thunder began to build.
The lightning bolt struck him square in the chest.
David's lifeless body fell to the ground, bouncing sickeningly off the grass before coming to a final rest.
* * * * *
The first thing Harry's eyes focussed on was the wand in front of him. He knew straightaway it wasn't his own.
He groped for it, knowing full well that Voldemort would have taken his as a trophy.
He began to force himself up, ignoring the lingering pain in all of his joints. As his vision cleared, he saw Voldemort standing over a lifeless body. He could not see whose, but he also could not see David.
Oh no…
Voldemort turned around and saw Harry. His evil features twisted angrily.
"You!"
He fired a blast of lightning at Harry. At the last instant he was able to summon a blue wand-blade from David's wand. It caught the lightning and blocked it, but Harry could feel that it was weakening.
Voldemort fired another blast, this one stronger. Again Harry caught it, but could feel that the blade was starting to die out.
"DIE, POTTER!" Voldemort screamed as he fired the last blast. David's wand finally gave out, the wand-tip exploding in a hail of sparks as the force knocked Harry down to the ground. Luckily, it took the lightning with it.
Harry scrambled up to his feet, and found himself staring down the tip of Voldemort's wand from twenty metres away. He was defenceless.
"Now, Potter, the circle is complete." Voldemort said, "Now, you will die. That is your destiny."
Destiny…Harry thought, trying desperately to keep calm. What was my destiny?
The power he knows not…
Harry's head turned towards the stands. His eyes found Hermione's. She looked absolutely terrified, frozen in horror.
But as Harry's eyes searched hers, he began to understand.
It was love…but not just for her…
He turned back to face Voldemort. He really looked like he was enjoying the moment.
"It's alright…" Harry said to him quietly.
Voldemort blinked, "What?"
"I know you have to do it," Harry said, "and it's alright. I understand."
"If this is some pathetic trick…"
"You've always been trying to survive," Harry said, "I know that. You kill because it's the only way you know how to survive. That's just who you are."
Voldemort kept his wand trained on Harry…but now didn't look so sure of himself.
"I was the one who lived…I was a threat to you." Harry said, "You didn't know what I was capable of, so you tried so hard to kill me, kill everyone close to me…to end that threat."
Harry spread his arms, "Well…I guess this is it. Go on, do it."
For the first time in Harry's memory, Voldemort hesitated.
"Do it. Kill me."
Harry gulped down his fear…and closed his eyes.
Concentrate…
Above them, Hermione also closed her eyes.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
The green blast flew into Harry's body, sending him flying backwards…and then rebounded into Voldemort's. The Dark Lord fell to the ground, just as Harry's barely-conscious body hit the wet grass.
* * * * *
Hermione buried her tear-strewn face into Ron's shoulder. She couldn't bear to watch any longer…
Ron's face was fixed in shock.
Harry is…no, wait!
"Hermione, look!" Ron exclaimed, pointing.
He could see Harry's arm move.
* * * * *
The pain kept his senses awake and alert.
Harry felt it across his entire body…but he was alive.
There were green-tinged cuts, openly bleeding, across his face and hands, and doubtless across his body. As Harry began to crawl forward, towards Voldemort's prone body, his first thoughts were of Hermione, what she must have been feeling.
He managed to raise himself to a stagger, on unsteady legs as he approached the Dark Lord. He was not moving at all, but Harry could see him breathing still.
With great pain and greater difficulty, Harry reached down and pulled his wand from Voldemort's robe, pointing it at Voldemort's face.
"Just so you know…I didn't mean a word of it…" Harry said through gritted teeth. He held his wand up, and with some effort he ignited his green wand-blade. He pointed it down at Voldemort's throat, and only then noticed the pain on his face.
He just didn't care.
"This is for everyone you've ever killed…" Harry growled, "For my parents…"
He began to wind back his blade.
"For Cedric…"
The blade began to intensify, becoming brighter and stronger.
"For Sirius…"
The blade continued to brighten.
"For Dumbledore…"
The green in Harry's eyes was frighteningly vibrant.
"And for me."
Voldemort's eyes closed in fear.
"AAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!" Harry swung.
The blade sliced right through Voldemort's neck. His head rolled onto the grass.
Voldemort was dead.
Harry extinguished the blade, and closed his eyes.
The entire stadium was silent, for just a moment. And then…
"YEEESSSSSSSS!" Ron screamed.
Neville joined him, and then Dean, Seamus, Ginny…the entire stadium erupted.
Hermione found herself in the arms of Professor McGonagall, who hugged her gently.
Beneath them all, Harry simply smiled.
And then the corner of his eye caught David's body begin to breathe…and crackle with blue electricity.
That was the last thing Harry remembered before he passed out himself, the effort to stay upstanding finally just too much.
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