Chapter 15 - The Snake…
Lucius Malfoy held up his hand for silence as he led his group into the Ministry Atrium. He was being followed by twenty five of the Dark Lord's servants - not many, but sufficient for the purposes of this mission. The Dark Lord had informed him that the Ministry would not be well guarded today - apparently he had received assurances that the majority of Aurors would be used to cover Hogwarts. It did not make sense to Lucius for Scrimgeour to leave the Ministry so exposed, but he had learned many years before not to question his master - If Lord Voldemort said that the Ministry would not be guarded, then who was he to question his wisdom? Besides; the Dark Lord did not tolerate such doubts from his followers.
Lord Voldemort had instructed him to strike straight for the heart of the Ministry by going directly for the Minister himself. Lucius knew exactly where that particular office was; he had visited often enough when Fudge had held the role. He knew that this was why he had been selected to lead this mission. He also knew that this was his final chance.
Lucius was somewhat disconcerted at the moment, however. The Ministry seemed to be eerily quiet - too quiet for his liking. The lights were dimmed and not even the usual security guard had been present at the front desk. They had been able to approach without hindrance and this had come as surprise to them all. These facts had immediately put him on edge. Why would the guard not be there? Did they know of the attack?
Impossible.
He edged forward, still on edge. It occurred to Lucius once again that he was on his last chance with the Dark Lord; a fact that made him determined to succeed. Even though there was something about this mission that did not seem quite right, he knew he could not abandon the attack. He could almost imagine the conversation with his master were he to retreat.
So why did you not attack Lucius?
Well, Master, I thought the Ministry seemed too quiet…
The argument seemed absurd; even to him; and he knew what consequences would await him were he to try such an approach.
He had wanted Draco to accompany him on the mission to make this a triumph for the family, but the boy had flatly refused. He was severely disappointed in his son at the minute and believed that he did not have the stomach to be a true supporter of the Dark Lord. His wife had informed him that Draco was having second thoughts about being a Death Eater. The young fool; did he not realise that one did not leave the Dark Lord's service? After being informed of this, Lucius had wanted to insist on Draco's inclusion in his force, but it seemed that Snape had wanted his son at Hogwarts and that had been it; decision made. Snape was building his own power base at the moment, and Lucius was not able to challenge his authority. It astonished him sometimes how things changed so quickly; two years ago Snape would never dared to challenge a Malfoy. That would change though; after the victory tonight, a lot of things would change.
He shook his head at the distractions. Concentrate, Lucius; you must not fail in this. His eyes scanned the Atrium seeking potential enemies, but he found none. He turned to his supporters.
'Move forward,' he hissed. 'Be as quiet as you can and head straight for the stairs,' he added, before leading them across the hall.
He had not gotten ten yards when he was suddenly blinded by the most brilliant lights that now shone on them from all directions. He froze on the spot, his arm raised to shield his eyes.
'Nobody move!' came a voice. 'You are completely surrounded! Any attempt to escape and I will order my men to shoot to kill!'
Lucius' heart sank. They had known of the attack. How in Merlin's name had they known? Not that it mattered now, he realised. Glancing around, he knew that to try and fight his way out of this was pointless; he could not even see who threatened him. He and his men were standing in open ground, lit up like Christmas trees and surrounded by an unknown number of enemies.
He turned as one of the younger Death Eaters tried to make a run for it, firing off a curse into the light as he did so. The fool hadn't even got three paces before being cut down by a jet of green light. Lucius had not even seen where it had come from. It did confirm something though; resistance would be suicide.
'Drop your wands!' The same voice again. Lucius did not recognise it, but that wasn't important now. Nothing seemed to matter now. He looked up, squinting into the light as the voice continued.
'Drop them right now, or we will open fire!'
Knowing they were defeated, the Death Eaters slowly let their wands fall to the ground. The last person to do so was Lucius himself. Within a few moments they were being manhandled by Ministry Aurors; forced onto the floor and bound. Lucius cursed the over-confidence of his master as his hands were tied behind his back and his face forced onto the tiled floor.
Draco had evidently been right after all, he thought despairingly.
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Harry strode slowly down the length of the Great Hall, aware of the stunned reaction of practically every person in the room. His cloak was draped loosely around him, his wand held tight in his right hand. The Sword of Gryffindor beat the rhythm of his steps as it hung in its scabbard on his left hip, concealed by his cloak. The only sound that could be heard was his footsteps as he neared the headmaster's chair. His heart beat furiously in his chest as the distance closed and he was acutely aware that he had no idea what to do at the minute.
He had been standing right outside the hall trying to formulate a plan when he had heard Lord Voldemort as he had tortured and tormented Hermione. All thoughts of trying to come up with a stratagem had evaporated at that point; he could not stand idly by whilst the woman he loved was so callously put to death. He had made the instant decision to burst into the hall - he knew that his appearance would at the very least postpone the execution that was about to take place. He hadn't given any thought as to what he would do next though.
And now he had no idea what to do; the situation was hopeless. Apart from the Dark Lord himself, there were at least twenty Death Eaters in the hall. His own friends had clearly been disarmed which meant that the only armed ally in the room right now was Snape. He could not expect much help from that quarter at the moment. He realised that he was now relying entirely on what he had described to the DA members back in fifth year as his instinct, or - as Professor McGonagall had so adroitly put it all those years ago - sheer dumb luck. He was also struggling to control the rage that he was feeling, aware that he had to keep a tight rein on his emotions. His temper had gotten him into trouble in the past; he needed to keep his thoughts as clear as crystal at the moment. It was no consolation to realise that his rage was now being assuaged by the sheer terror he was experiencing as he neared his enemy.
The main reaction, he noticed, was - predictably - astonishment. He watched as Voldemort stood to his full height and turned to Snape, an expression of incredulity on his face. Snape - to his eternal credit, Harry realised - looked back at the Dark Lord with an equal expression of amazement. He's good, thought Harry dispassionately. He's really good to have reacted so quickly. It occurred to him that he did not know what Snape would do if Voldemort was to triumph today. Would he act as if the meetings of the previous month had not happened? Would he remain Lord Voldemort's most trusted advisor?
His eyes briefly swept the hall and he noticed the general looks of astonishment that he received from the room at large, particularly the smiles that broke onto the faces of his friends. In the corner, he could see the four Professors; only Minerva did not stand open mouthed at his appearance. He even caught sight of Draco Malfoy as he slipped into the hall by means of the staff entrance behind the top table. The former Slytherin proceeded to stand with his fellow Death Eaters and act as if nothing untoward was happening. Lord Voldemort did not see any of this. Harry then noticed with a start that Nagini slithered close to her master. It took all of his self control not to look at Snape at that moment whilst his mind raced with unanswered questions.
Even though his peripheral vision had taken in all of these details, his eyes at that moment were focussed on the brown haired girl who lay at the feet of Lord Voldemort. To those watching his approach it seemed as if there was no one else present in the hall.
He finally reached her and - without casting a glance at the snake like visage of the man in front of him - held out his hand to help her rise.
'Are you OK?' he asked gently. He tried to stop his hand from shaking as he held it out to her. She had been so close to dying, he thought with a shiver. Even now, they were all in mortal peril. And it's your fault, Harry! You have brought everyone to this!
'I am now,' she replied as she allowed him to help her to her feet. She stared at him intently as if reading his thoughts and for a brief moment it was as if there was no one else present. Finally, Harry embraced her briefly before turning to face Lord Voldemort.
By this point, the Dark Lord had recovered his composure. His initial feeling of astonishment at Harry's entrance had been replaced by fear; fear that this boy had returned to slay him; fear that Harry Potter was his own personal nemesis, sent by fate to wreck his dreams. For one fleeting moment as he watched Potter approach and help the mudblood to her feet, Lord Voldemort considered the possibility that he could die today; killed by the boy who had seemingly haunted him since his birth seventeen years before, and the boy who was evidently responsible for the destruction of five parts of his seven part soul. He had even considered for the briefest of moments that he had been betrayed by his most loyal servant who had planned the death of this boy, but one glance at the look of astonishment on the face of Severus had been enough to dispel that doubt.
Then he realised the reality of the situation and began to feel more at ease. It was only five parts of his soul that were gone, not seven; two were left and one of them resided within his own form. And when he looked at Potter now, he realised that the young fool was alone, and was now surrounded by Death Eaters who had finally overcome their amazement and who now had him completely surrounded and covered by drawn wands. Glancing to the rear of the hall he saw with satisfaction that the doors were already being swung shut by two of his servants. Armed or not, Potter would not escape now. He was, after all, just a boy.
He started to relax. Was he not the greatest wizard alive today? The fear that he had tasted in his mouth on first seeing Potter enter the hall now abated. The young fool had even allowed his wand to be taken by Draco, as if he was accepting his fate. He composed himself and retired to the headmaster's chair. Sitting down, he rested his chin in the fingers of his left hand and regarded Potter carefully. Finally he laughed. Laughed at the absurdity of the situation; laughed at his own irrational fear. The situation was well under his control.
'Well, well, well,' began the Dark Lord, clearly amused. 'This is indeed a most unexpected surprise, Harry.' He allowed his tongue to linger on the name as he said it, almost as if it was a delicious treat that he was savouring. 'Allow me to congratulate you; you have allowed me to enjoy the sensation of being surprised for the first time in many a year. I cannot remember the last time I was caught out in the manner that I have been today. Perhaps we should celebrate your return from the dead? Should I call for a feast?'
Harry licked his lips. He knew that he had nothing to bargain with here; no hope of escape to cling to. He had rushed in to the situation without thinking things through. He had let what Snape called his 'sentiment' cloud his judgement and now he must deal with the consequences of doing so. He was aware of one thing though; he had to keep Voldemort talking. He knew that if Riddle became bored, he would end this charade in an instant.
'Surprised? I am gratified to hear it,' he replied. 'Although I don't think that it should be too difficult to recall the last time you were caught out. I suspect that my escape the night you returned must have taken you aback somewhat. Or even the night you murdered my parents. That must have been quite the shock for you, Tom, being disembodied in that manner.'
'Do not dare to address me with that filthy name!' hissed Lord Voldemort. For a brief instant, the veneer of calm disappeared from Voldemort's face and a flash of rage was noticeable on his drawn features. He forced himself to relax.
'Why not?' asked Harry. 'It is your given name, is it not? Why be ashamed of a name?'
'It is not the name I choose to give myself. That should be sufficient reason.'
'But it is the name I choose to call you by, Tom. Surely after everything we have been through together, I have earned the right to call you by your true name?'
Voldemort, to everyone's surprise, smiled at this remark. 'There may be something in what you say, Harry, we have shared much over the years. But what you must understand is that you only remain alive at the moment because I require some information from you. I could crush you like an ant right now; you know this to be true. It may be prudent of you to respect my wishes in this matter.'
'If I am to die anyway, Tom, then what does it matter how I address you?'
Voldemort smiled grimly. Harry did not like this particular smile. 'I shall give you the same choice that I offered to the mudblood and the traitor,' said Voldemort, gesturing at Ron and Hermione. 'Answer my questions truthfully and I shall make your death quick. Fail to satisfy me and I shall make your death slow and painful. Your mudblood will share the same fate. The decision is yours, Harry. Do you understand?'
After a few seconds, Harry nodded. 'I understand. I will tell you anything you want if you release my friends. It is I whom you want, Tom. You have me now; let them go.'
Lord Voldemort laughed again. 'And why should I release them, Harry? I have everything I want right before me at the moment. You have no say in this, Potter,' he spat. 'You cannot dictate terms to me; you have nothing that I want, save your death. Now, I ask you again; will you answer my questions?' He raised his wand as he asked this; raised it and pointed it directly at Hermione.
'Yes!' shouted Harry, the fear evident in his voice. At all costs, he must keep attention away from Hermione. 'Yes, I will answer your questions. What do you want to know?' He knew that he had no option at the moment. No options at all.
Lord Voldemort took a long moment to consider Harry. He let the silence draw out and Harry found himself almost desperate to know what the man wanted of him.
'Why?' Lord Voldemort finally asked.
'Why what?' replied Harry, obviously confused.
'Why have you persisted in coming after me, Potter? Why are you here now? It is the one thing I have never understood about you. After your fortunate escape sixteen years ago, I would have thought that you would have done everything in your power to escape me. Once you discovered the truth, you could have went anywhere; done anything. And yet, you did not flee. Instead, you persisted - indeed you still persist - in trying to destroy me. Why?'
Harry laughed bitterly. 'I persisted in pursuing you? Are you mad, Tom? Do you think I enjoy this? That I sought to have my life overshadowed by the constant threat of murder? Do you honestly think I wanted my loved ones killed or my friends put in danger? Why should I have run away? I just wanted to be left alone; it was you who did not permit me to do this. You seem to have this the wrong way around, Tom. You came after me. It was you who sealed our fates sixteen years ago, not I.'
'Ah, now we are getting somewhere, Harry. You speak of fate and yet you have me at an advantage; at least in this. It seems that we are bound by fate. You know of what I speak. You are aware of the full prophecy, are you not?'
'I am,' replied Harry. 'I have been aware of it for over a year now. Ever since the night we met at the Ministry.'
'I suspected as much. Dumbledore told you of it, didn't he?' Voldemort did not wait for a reply. 'Tell it to me then. Tell me it in full. Lord Voldemort commands you in this.'
Harry took a moment to consider his options. Would it matter now if Voldemort knew the full prophecy? Probably not, he decided. It had all come down to this moment; what did it matter if he knew now?
'You heard some of it, didn't you?' he asked, temporising. 'That's why you came after me. Tell me, why did you decide to go after me? I was not the only one the prophecy could have been speaking of. It was not necessarily I that was fated to be marked. You chose me, Tom, not fate.' He deliberately did not mention Neville's name when he asked this; his friend did not need to know how close he came to death all those years ago. He noticed Voldemort's eyes flicker in Neville's direction before he answered, and he hoped retribution was not in the immediate offing. If he failed here today, Neville would die with the others, he was sure of that.
'It is true that I only heard the first part,' replied Lord Voldemort, with a sigh. 'I had actually decided to remove both threats. It was just coincidence that I chose to go for you first. I see now that this choice was significant; and that the missing part of the prophecy will explain why this is so. Despite my best efforts, I could never discover the missing part. I order you now to tell me.'
Harry took a deep breath. 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches,' he began, reciting the words that had cursed his life. 'Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies .And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.' He looked directly at Voldemort as he said this; as he finally revealed the secret that had damned him to this fate and had ultimately cost the lives of his parents and Godfather. And probably his own, he now realised.
Voldemort closed his eyes on hearing these words as if deeply considering them. Finally he laughed; a mirthless, bitter laugh that Harry found hugely unsettling.
'That's it?' he finally asked, incredulously. 'I have "marked you as my equal?" How, pray, did I do this?'
Harry pointed to his scar. The Dark Lord laughed again. 'And this makes you my equal?'
'No, I guess not. But it was you that made the choice, Tom. We are equal in some respects; we are both half-bloods. Was it really a coincidence that made you go for me first? Or did you see the boy that had similar origins to your own as the greater threat? It is our choices that define us, Tom. Well, you defined life for the two of us with that choice.'
This silenced Voldemort for a moment. Finally he spoke. 'So tell me, Harry, what power is it that you have then? What power that I "know not"?' he scoffed. His Death Eaters laughed too as their master mocked 'the Boy-Who-Lived.'
Harry just shrugged. 'No idea,' he replied. 'I never said I understood the prophecy; just that I knew what it said.' He considered whether to say any more. 'Dumbledore thought it was my power to love that would destroy you.'
'Love?' Voldemort asked scornfully. 'You will use love to conquer me? Much as the thought might appeal to some people, Harry, I am afraid that it carries no meaning to me.' Voldemort was enjoying himself; the mirth was evident in his tone. He laughed again. 'So I have spent all these years wondering about this? This excuse for a prophecy?' he asked. 'Wondering about a prophecy that makes no sense? Neither can live while the other survives? This is patently nonsense. Here we stand, Harry, you and I; both quite clearly living. For the moment at least,' he added ominously. 'How do you explain this, Harry?'
'I wondered about that myself when I first heard the words. It initially made no sense to me either, but I realised not too long ago what it meant.'
'And?' asked Lord Voldemort. 'Do tell, Harry. I am eager to hear your views on this,' he mocked.
'Neither of us have lived; really lived. For sixteen years, neither of us has truly lived.' Harry spoke quietly now as he considered the meaning behind the words that had blighted his life. 'My life has been cursed; cursed by you, Tom. I have not been able to lead a normal life. To really live, one must be free to choose ones own path. I have not had that choice; you made sure of that when you killed my parents and marked me that night. All I have done is to survive. And as for you?' Harry continued. 'You have not lived either since that night; unless you count drinking unicorn blood in the forest as a satisfactory life. Unless you consider existing on the back of a weakling's head as an acceptable way to live. You were a shadow, Tom; barely alive. What kind of life is that? You survived, but you did not live. Even after you regained your form two years ago, your life has been constrained by fear. In fact, your whole existence has been overshadowed by your fear of death - and your fear of me. You have never accepted that all men must die, and this has prevented you from living your life; it has stopped you from truly being alive, all these years.'
This stopped Voldemort in his tracks. He looked as if Harry had slapped him such was the impact of these words. His lidless eyes narrowed for a moment, before he regained control.
'Fool!' he exclaimed. 'I have conquered death; you know this to be true. You may have destroyed five of my Horcruxes, Potter,' he spat, 'but I have two parts of my soul remaining. And I will add that I will make your death especially beneficial to me. I shall create more Horcruxes; the deaths of you and your pathetic little friends will not be in vain. I cannot lose,' he asserted triumphantly.
'Life is not a game, Tom, to win or lose,' said Harry. 'You have never understood that, have you?'
'Oh, but it is, Potter. It is you that has never grasped this simple truth. It is the greatest game of all.'
'In that case,' replied Harry, shaking his head, 'you have never understood the rules, have you?'
This perplexed Voldemort, who looked curious for a moment. 'Rules? What rules?' he asked. 'There are no rules.'
'That life is a game none of us can win, Tom. None of us,' he repeated. 'You have never understood or accepted that we all must lose in the end. This is the gift of life; the key to the whole "game" as you call it. We can only fully appreciate being alive because we live with the knowledge that one day we will die. Once you accept this truth, you come to realise that what is important is how to play the game when we are given our chance. When the end comes - as come it must, sooner or later - what ultimately matters is how we have played. If I am to die here today, Tom, then I die in the knowledge that I have played the game well. Can you say the same?'
Voldemort laughed, and this time there was genuine amusement in it. 'Oh, Potter; you really are a sentimental young fool. Did Dumbledore teach you this nonsense?' He laughed again. 'You have not been listening to me, Potter. I have conquered death. I cannot die. I will not die. I have changed the rules.'
Harry said nothing in reply. There really was nothing to say at the moment for it did indeed look as if Voldemort was correct. Riddle seemed to sense his resignation, for he abruptly changed tack.
'For a month now, I have thought you dead, Potter; and yet here you stand before me. It explains much. I take it you were present at the graveyard?'
'I was,' replied Harry. 'I was hidden under my invisibility cloak and managed to Apparate us to safety.'
'I should have known,' replied Voldemort. 'I was convinced that I had the mudblood and the traitor under my control. There are not many who can resist the will of Lord Voldemort and I suspect these two do not have it in them. Not like you though, Harry. You have resisted me before. But no longer; not after today. Now tell me; how did you escape the Shack?'
Harry didn't mind answering this question. 'The Minister pulled me out before the Shack blew up. It was his idea to fake my death. I told him that I needed to do something without interference from you.'
'So Scrimgeour was at the meeting?' He turned to Snape. 'My apologies, Severus; it would appear that your information was indeed correct. The fault for their escape does not lie with you. Fear me not.'
'Thank you, master,' replied Snape, the first words anyone had heard him speak today.
Voldemort turned back to Harry. 'You told Scrimgeour of my Horcruxes?'
'Not straight away, but he knows now. Does that matter anymore?' asked Harry, gesturing to the room at large. 'Everyone here now knows of your little secret, Tom. Those that do not know what a Horcrux is will find out soon enough. If I have achieved nothing else, then at least I have revealed your secret to the world.'
'That is of no consequence now,' replied Voldemort. 'As I said; I shall create some more and put them beyond the reach of any witch or wizard. There are ways of achieving this. You know this to be true.'
'Maybe,' replied Harry. 'Maybe not. You will know that there will always be those who will seek to destroy you. Do you think the Minister will give up now that he knows?'
Voldemort laughed. 'What the Minister does or does not do is of no consequence now. Even as we speak he is outside the front of this castle fighting for his life. You are forgetting that I control this castle now. No one shall enter unless I permit it. Once I have finished with you, Potter, I will see to the Minister, be assured of that. Did you honestly think that your little plan to ambush me would work?'
'It nearly did work,' said Hermione, who until this point had remained silent by Harry's side. 'You were lucky today; we only need to be lucky once.'
Voldemort deigned to regard her for a moment. 'Luck has nothing to do with it, mudblood. I would have taken care of Rufus and his little force, even if he had gained entry to the castle. As it is, I will deal with him shortly. Soon all resistance to me will be crushed completely. I have already taken steps to take the Ministry. Do you think that I would merely be content with capturing the school?'
Now it was Harry's turn to laugh. 'Do you think we don't know about the attack on the Ministry, Tom? That we were not aware that Umbrage was spying for you? Measures have been taken; I am quite confident that the little force you sent to take the Ministry has been dealt with by now,' he added scornfully.
Voldemort looked furious. 'So,' he hissed. 'Now we get to the crux of the matter, Potter. How did you know? How did you come to discover my plans? You knew I had taken Hogwarts and you knew about the attack on the Ministry. So I ask you now, Harry Potter; who amongst my followers has betrayed me?'
Harry said nothing. Voldemort sighed deeply. 'Very well, Potter, have it your way. Crucio!'
Harry immediately found himself on the floor writhing in agony. He was vaguely aware of Hermione screaming at his side as she attempted to help him. He wanted her to stay out of the way but he could not ward her off, such was his torment. The pain continued for what seemed like an eternity before Voldemort ceased in his torture.
'That is but a taste, Potter; the merest sip of what lies in store for you and your friends if you do not co-operate. Now; I ask you again. Who has betrayed me?'
Harry struggled to his knees, fighting for breath. He could not reveal the information - he could not even think the name in the presence of Lord Voldemort - for if he did then Severus Snape was a dead man. Indeed, it was taking all of Harry's willpower at that moment to avoid looking at his former Potions Professor. Instead, he glanced off to the side and that was when he noticed something odd.
Draco was looking at him intently, trying to tell him something with his eyes. It was then that Harry noticed Nagini slithering along the floor behind Lord Voldemort; slithering slowly and inexorably towards his former enemy. In an instant, Harry realised what Snape had asked Draco to do. He had to keep Voldemort distracted.
Gasping for breath, he held up his hand as if in a plea for mercy. 'Please,' he whispered hoarsely, 'no more. I beg you, no more.' He put his hand on the hilt of Gryffindor's sword and used it to lever himself to his feet. Voldemort noticed the sword for the first time.
'What is that?' he hissed. 'Can this be the sword of Godric Gryffindor?' There was a hint of awe in the Dark Lord's voice as he asked this. 'You have done me a great service, Potter,' he added triumphantly. 'You destroyed the locket of the mighty Slytherin; the locket that held a part of me. This trophy shall serve as recompense. A relic of the founders to replace the one you destroyed! I shall use it, Potter; use it and your death to replace that which you have taken from me.' He was exultant now; his victory complete.
Harry managed to get to his feet, although he remained doubled over, his hand stretched out as if to stop any more torture. 'Please,' he gasped. 'No more. I will do anything you ask.'
Voldemort regarded him with contempt. 'Really, Potter, I'm disappointed in you. The mudblood showed more spine than you have demonstrated. I shall have that sword, but first I command you; who is the traitor?'
Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as Nagini finally got within range of Draco. On seeing this he finally stood upright. Now, Draco! Now is your time!
As if in answer to the unspoken order, Draco Malfoy moved swiftly. Seeing that all attention in the room was focused on Potter, he leveled his wand at the snake that slithered before him.
'SECTUMSEMPRA!' he cried, scything his wand in one swift movement; a scythe resulting in a streak of red light that slashed into Nagini as she passed in front of him. The snake reared up, hissing furiously as the blood gushed from a deep gash that had appeared on the side of her neck. 'SECTUMSEMPRA! Draco repeated, again slashing at the snake before him. Realising that he had now sliced the head clean off the Dark Lord's pet, Draco tossed Harry's wand back towards him before clutching his Portkey and disappearing from sight, leaving only a bloodied mass lying on the floor.
Harry reached for his wand but the throw had been poor; it struck an astonished Bella and clattered onto the floor. Harry made to grab for it but froze at a sound that chilled his bones to the marrow.
Lord Voldemort, who had initially let out a cry of rage on first witnessing the fate of his pet, suddenly began to laugh. He laughed as Harry had never heard anyone laugh before; a triumphant bray that echoed throughout the hall. With a sudden feeling of desperation, Harry understood. He knew with crushing certainty exactly what was causing Lord Voldemort to behave in such a manner.
Harry sank to his knees again, but this time he was not in pain. Lord Voldemort must have sensed his mood, for his laugh become louder; almost hysterical.
Harry felt sick and was struggling to breathe, but despite his feelings of nausea, one stark, bitter truth rang out in his mind. There had been no black mist; no scream of agony when Nagini had died. Instead, the snake had passed from this world without even a whimper. He glanced up at Hermione and saw the same look of terrible understanding on her face that he knew must be visible on his own.
It had all been for nothing, he thought in despair. The deaths, the struggles, the deceptions; all had been for nothing.
Dumbledore had been wrong. The snake had not been a Horcrux.
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a/n Apologies to anyone hoping for the final battle in this chapter, but I couldn't resist a final cliff...
Don't worry, the clash will be coming along soon.
And a huge thank you once again to everyone who has had the courtesy to leave a review.
BF