Harry kept his wand trained on Voldemort, distrusting the malevolent wizard even though they outnumbered him four - no, three - to one. Voldemort had yet to turn around, calmly standing in front of the mirror with his arms folded in front of him.
Surveying the room, Harry noticed Nagini crumpled in a corner, its head unmoving and its eyes blankly staring into oblivion. He flicked his head towards the giant snake and Hermione quietly cast a spell to detect life.
"Nagini is dead little Mudblood," Voldemort hissed, looking over at his beloved pet.
Hermione frowned, unsure as to why the large snake would be dead when there was no other way to reach the top of the tower. Voldemort had clearly shown his ability to leave the tower, but surely they would have heard from one of their fellow soldiers if Nagini had been killed.
"I can see your little gears twisting away, trying to rationalize the situation. It is your limited perspective that holds you back, Mudblood. You just can't comprehend it, can you? You're all the same."
"Every last one of you." Voldemort's voice turned moody, his countenance stormy as he continued to look into the mirror, not even bothering to turn around to address any potential dangers.
"You plot and scheme for a way to kill me, driven and bound by the prophecy, but your plans are half-baked and insulting to my intellect. Do you really think I would have let you so easily waltz in here?"
"It wasn't easy," Harry responded.
"Easy enough," Voldemort scoffed. "At least - for them, but not for you, Potter. And definitely not for the Longbottom boy."
Harry could see the slight smirk of Voldemort's repulsive face in the reflection of the mirror. Hermione and Ron were slowly fanning out, trying to surround Voldemort but Harry knew it was only just a mere distraction. Voldemort could easily escape any circle they could create.
"Are you really so foolish to think this would come down to a battle of magic, Potter?"
Harry bit his tongue because Voldemort was right. He was hoping to use Hermione and Ron to distract and use up Voldemort's magical resources through a series of non-lethal but consuming spells. In the meanwhile, he would save up the strength to attack Voldemort and dispatch him cleanly.
"You are but a boy, hardened by the burdens of war, but still a boy nonetheless. Do you really think you can defeat a man who has experienced two wars and faced wizards immeasurably more powerful than yourself?"
"I'm not going to be the one that kills you, Voldemort," Harry said with a steely edge in his voice.
"Oh yes," Voldemort stared at Neville's blank expression in the mirror, "The Longbottom boy will be the one who kills me."
Voldemort snapped his fingers and the trio jumped, expecting a spell or curse to come flying their way. Hermione procured a strong shield while Ron lashed a curse out, missing badly due to his nervousness. Voldemort bellowed in amusement, unmoved by the sudden outburst of magic.
"Calm yourselves, little Gryffindors."
Neville stepped forwards, his feet striding purposefully until he was by Voldemort's side. It was such a sudden shock that no one moved to stop him and all their mouths were a bit ajar as they saw their friend stand by Voldemort.
"Surely this doesn't come as quite a surprise to you. I'm sure you all had your…inklings," Voldemort hissed as he finally turned around to face them.
He was taller than Harry remembered and his face was smoother and even more reptilian. His arms were folded within the sleeves of his robes and his eyes a stark white with a vertical slit in each eyeball. He stood with his chin jutted outwards, radiating arrogance and confidence as he looked upon all of them. Only Ron stood near his height and even he looked to be cowering and tiny in the presence of Voldemort.
But Harry could sense something a bit different about him. Though he stood with the confidence and impunity of a demi-God, Harry sensed a loss of magical power within him. There was a slight tension in his shoulders as if were holding them up just to make sure he radiated power and his robes were shaking ever so slightly around his arms. There was a weakness to Voldemort.
"I've watched your journey for a while now, Potter. It is quite remarkable how much you've improved since I last rid of your useless parents."
Harry continued to stare boldly into Voldemort's eyes, not willing to be baited quite so easily by his deceptive tongue. Voldemort smiled at Harry's reaction, obviously trying to goad a reaction out of the younger man.
"The dragon was expected, but when you killed your Irish friend…" Voldemort actually admonished him, his tongue clicking with a reptilian hiss in what he could only assume was Parseltongue.
He saw Hermione and Ron both look at him in alarm out of the corners of his eyes, but he could pay them no attention. They were bound to discover the truth of Seamus' demise eventually. There was only one goal in Harry's mind and he would see it through.
"How insidious of you! Did you really not tell them?" Voldemort sounded absolutely gleeful at Harry's deception. "I couldn't hear you but from what I observed through Longbottom, I assumed you told them. How delightfully deceptive of you, Potter. You and I are not so different."
"You and I are nothing alike," Harry hissed.
"Oh really?" Voldemort cocked his head. Neville was still at his side, unmoving except for the steady, rhythmic rising of his chest.
"Aren't you the so called Captain that killed and tortured any and all Death Eater prisoners? The same person that's willing to kill your friend just so you could get up here? All things truly wicked start from an innocence."
"Hemingway," Hermione whispered.
"Very good, Mudblood," Voldemort smirked, his eyes sliding over to the shaky brunette.
Harry leaned slightly, concerned that Voldemort was focusing his attention on Hermione. It was a slight movement, his leg slightly buckling as he took the tiniest of steps towards her, but it did not escape unnoticed. Voldemort's reptilian eyes flicked back towards Harry, the malevolent glee evident.
Voldemort was about to speak, but Hermione suddenly cut him off, surprising even the dark wizard.
"Reading Muggle books, Voldemort?" Hermione said in faux confidence, her voice badly shaking. "What would the Death Eaters say about that?"
"The Death Eaters would read an entire library of that trash literature if I told them to. What you to fail to understand, Granger, is that it was never about hating Muggles. It is about conquering them. It is about unflinching power and ruling them. What can they do with their bombs and their guns? The tower is invincible against them, a show of magical power that stands against all the ridiculous Muggle innovations."
"This magic can not be undone."
"It will be undone when you die, Voldemort," Harry fired a strong Blasting Curse, a special one he used against the most evil of Death Eaters.
Voldemort finally emerged from his shell, raising his wand into the air and dismissing the spell with an angry glare.
"Do not be so RIDICULOUS!" Voldemort bellowed, his rage finally showing, "Are you so infantile and arrogant to think this would come down to a battle of strength?"
Voldemort waved his wand and Ron rocketed through the air, crashing against a wall. His body crumpled in an unconscious lump. Hermione and Harry both fired spells at him, but he shielded again, covering himself and the unmoving Neville.
"How stupid you must be to think that you can defeat the greatest wizard of this age," Voldemort continued to admonish them, his previous mocking replaced with unbridled anger. "Did Dumbledore teach you nothing?"
This time, Voldemort pointed towards Hermione. A yellow flash of light shot out of his wand, speeding towards her. She dug her heels in and yelled, "Protego!"
The shield blasted her off her feet, lifting her a few feet in the air. She landed awkwardly on her rump, wincing in pain from the fall, but Hermione was undeterred as she scrambled to her feet. Voldemort growled and shot another spell at her, but Harry was prepared and blocked for her.
"Dumbledore was afraid," Harry finally responded. "I am not."
"You should be," Voldemort's eyes flashed as a large purple beam erupted from his wand, but Harry was game. He countered and deflected the spell towards the ceiling. The unknown spell crashed into the ceiling, splintering the granite and stone. Debris and ash fell from the ceiling as Harry resolutely stared at Voldemort, daring him to attack again.
"You are nothing more than just another wizard, Voldemort. Just another scared boy fighting against his father."
Voldemort struck again, another power spell emerging from his wand. It was more powerful this time, but Harry deflected it yet again, redirecting it to a side wall where it burned the stone and scorched the floor.
"You would know about weak fathers, wouldn't you, Potter? Did you know he didn't even fight? He didn't even raise a spell against me. The weak filth couldn't even bother to defend himself."
"The weak filth has a surprise for you," Harry growled as he extended his bare hand.
There was a brief moment of surprise on Voldemort's face as he looked at Harry's oddly extended hand. The surprise was short lived, however, as Voldemort was suddenly pushed through the air, his feet stumbling as a pressure against his chest propelled him backwards.
Hermione's mouth dropped at Harry's display of wandless magic. She had seen small bits of his power before, but it was usually accidental and only involved small objects. This whole time - the whole war - he was holding back for one moment.
"He counted on you killing him. He counted on you not to understand what it meant to sacrifice yourself."
Harry fired a spell from his wand and flung his bare hand in a whipping motion at the same time. A shockwave barreled through the floor and Voldemort only just managed to prevent it from crushing his legs. He also deflected the Blasting Curse, but not far enough. It crashed into the wall behind him, pummeling Voldemort with collateral debris.
"He understood what true sacrifice was."
He raised his wand over his head and brought it down in an arc, a large whip of fire bursting from his wand and barely missing Voldemort. He flexed his open palm again and the same invisible force pushed Voldemort further into the wall.
"True sacrifice is for others, Voldemort. Not YOURSELF!"
With his palm outstretched and his wand pointed directly at Voldemort, Harry produced a bright fluorescent beam that caused Voldemort to produce an actual shield. Harry kept stepping forward, trying to literally crush Voldemort against the wall.
"ENOUGH!" Voldemort yelled as he banished Harry's bright spell. Harry's knees buckled from the sudden power change as Voldemort stepped forward and made a crumpling motion with his bare hand.
Harry's arms suddenly snapped to his sides and his feet rose off the ground. He screamed in agony, wriggling as if he was trapped in a bind. Voldemort twirled his wand in the air and wrapped Harry in a magical rope. He squeezed his hand even tighter, the blood pooling around his knuckles and a maniacal anger radiating through Voldemort's face. His tongue was sticking out and his eyes wide as he continued to squeeze the life out of Harry.
"You think you are the only one who can do wandless magic!? You think that impressed me? You think you hurt me?!" Voldemort bellowed as he came right up to Harry's face. He inhaled deeply, his face centimeters away from Harry's. Harry was struggling, gasping for breath as he felt his insides slowly being squeezed to death.
"Fear," Voldemort hissed as he released Harry from the bind.
Harry crumpled to the ground, his bones aching and his insides shaky from the wandless magic. He had no time to rest as Voldemort cast the Cruciatus Curse on him. Harry screamed, the agony reaching unbearable levels as Voldemort focused his love of malice into him. His back arched, the pain never ending and his body quivering like a violin string. There was blood in his mouth as he bit the inside of his cheek, barely able to breath.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Voldemort blinked, frowning in confusion as he released Harry from the spell and side stepped the Killing Curse. Hermione was pointing her wand at him, her chest heaving from the raw power of the spell.
"Your first time?" Voldemort snorted in derision. "Let me show you how it's really done."
Harry sprung to life, lashing out at Voldemort. The evil wizard deflected the spell and Hermione saw a small window of opportunity arise. She didn't think she had enough power for another Killing Curse, but perhaps she could injure or distract him and give Harry enough time to get the upper hand on him.
"Reducto! Confringo!" She used the two spells in unison, hoping to catch Voldemort off guard, but the evil wizard was too experienced and had fought too many battles to be so easily surprised.
He flicked his bare hand and Hermione could only watch in abject horror as the spells suddenly turned around and sped back towards her. She was unable to conjure a shield in time and the spells hit her with full force. She could feel the slight burning of her protective robes as she flew through the air. It felt as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to her stomach and she could sense her body already shutting down in her mind to omit her of the agonizing pain.
"Hermione!" Harry yelled.
"I said you were foolish, Potter," Voldemort made a karate chop motion with his hand and Harry's neck snapped back, his head slamming against the floor. He felt dizzy and nauseous, his bones and nerves aching and pulsing as every second passed.
"Foolish enough to think you would best me in a duel," Voldemort pointed his wand and levitated Harry. Harry's wand clattered against the ground as it slipped out of his hand. A magical rope extended from the ceiling and wrapped itself around Harry's wrists, stringing him up. Harry was too tired to struggle, his body limply hanging from the rope.
"I have watched all of you for a while through Longbottom's eyes," Voldemort circled around Neville, a triumphant smirk on his face. "His mind was weak and retreated the second I achieved dominance. And you, Potter, were the catalyst. You pushed him away, isolated him, and segregated him from his friends. As each life line eroded, he started to lose his grasp of his mind. I have you to thank for that, Potter."
"Because you see, I finally understood how I could use love. Dumbledore always told me it would be my downfall, but he was mistaken. It would be my rejuvenation - the key to immortal power. The only love I ever knew was destructive. My mother died and my father was nothing more than a powerless Muggle. But I could use that," Voldemort spoke as if he were discovering a new, unfound land. "I could use that pain."
"The only thing left standing were the Horcruxes. I couldn't be granted immortal power without getting rid of all the souls. But they still served their purpose…"
"Neville," Voldemort whispered in his ear, using the boy's given name to imply assistance instead of coercion, "Step towards the mirror."
Neville obliged, walking in front of the mirror. Voldemort extended his hand towards the door and after a minute, the doors opened and the sword of Gryffindor landed in Voldemort's hand. He levitated it gently to Neville's feet and stepped away from the boy, out of view from the mirror.
"She is here, Neville," Voldemort directed Neville's gaze to Hermione's comatose body, "She is waiting for you to rescue her."
Neville's head slowly turned until his blank eyes were gazing upon Hermione's prone form. There were burn marks on her torn robes and a large gash along the crown of her head, but other than that, she looked to be peacefully sleeping.
"She can be yours," Voldemort enunciated the last word, drawing it out.
"Neville, no!" Harry managed to choke out, but Voldemort immediately silenced him with a spell.
"Do you remember, Neville?" Voldemort continued to say in a surprisingly soothing voice. "Do you remember when you almost had her? She was at the tip of your fingers, but then Potter took her from you. He stole her away from you; convincing her you were wrong for her. He took her and he fucked her, Neville."
Harry could see Neville's fists clenching and although the boy still had a very calm visage, he could see that Neville was listening to Voldemort's wicked tongue.
"She's your love. She belongs to you. She loves you, Neville. Only Potter stands in the way. What if there was no Harry Potter? Her heart belongs to you and the conniving bastard wouldn't be able to steal and manipulate her away."
"Look into the mirror and give me the power, Neville. I will get rid of Potter. Get rid of everyone that stands in your way. You and she can live gloriously unimpeded if you grant me immortal power. You will live safely and away from the judging eyes that condemn you as their savior. Why should such a responsibility fall upon someone so young? Can you not be content with the love of your life instead? It can be done, Neville. You need not only look in the mirror and grant me the power to protect both of you."
"Do you understand, Neville?" Voldemort continued.
After a few more moments of Neville staring at Hermione, he nodded. He looked up and made eye contact with Harry. Harry shook his head, desperately urging Neville not to grant Voldemort's wish. He flung his body and tried to break his bonds with wandless magic, but it was no use. The bond was too strong and he was still recovering from the torture. Neville maintained eye contact and smiled at Harry. He turned back towards the mirror and Harry could only struggle in futility.
"Do it, Neville. Wish for Lord Voldemort's immortal power and I will grant you your love," Voldemort raised his chin in triumph, sensing greatness was near.
Harry and Voldemort both watched as Neville stared into the mirror and to their great surprise, they saw a conscious Hermione in the reflection.
"Please Neville, don't do this! Free Harry! Don't let Voldemort gain this power," Hermione was begging with him, pleading for him to stop. Hermione morphed into a grave looking Dumbledore.
"Do not do this, my boy. Do not let Voldemort win," he tried to warn him. But Dumbledore disappeared and the mirror flashed a bright yellow.
"He has passed the first test," Voldemort whispered, his excitement growing as he continued to push Longbottom.
An angry raven suddenly cawed at him from the mirror and Neville fell to his knees, clutching his head as he moaned in pain and agony.
"Hold strong, Neville," Voldemort continued to falsely encourage the boy. "It is just an illusion. Do not stray from the course."
Neville pushed the heels of his hand into his eye sockets, literally trying to force the images and attacks out of his mind. His shoulders were shaking from exertion and the raven in the mirror continued to caw and shriek at Neville as if it were casting its own version of the Cruciatus. The raven vanished from sight and the mirror now shined a deep purple. Neville stopped holding his head and stood up on shaky knees, staring right into the mirror and looking at his reflection.
"He has passed Ravenclaw's test," Voldemort continued to commentate, mostly to himself.
A snake now appeared in the mirror, it's forked tongue darting out of its mouth as it seemed to speak to Neville telepathically. Neville picked up the sword awkwardly with his right hand, his left arm just a stump for the moment. He lifted the heavy blade, his bicep flexing as he struggled with the weight. Laying it diagonally on his chest, he pushed and winced as the blade drew blood. Lowering the sword so the tip rested against the ground, Neville nodded at the mirror. The snake seemed to accept his offering and the mirror flashed green.
"Only one more," Voldemort smiled.
Harry closed his eyes, knowing he had to stop Neville from giving Voldemort long lasting power. He focused as much magic as he could and squeezed both of his hands in an effort to cut the rope. The rope wavered but did not cut as Harry slumped forward again, his arms aching from being chained above his head.
"Do not bother, Potter. My binds are too strong and the process is almost complete," he turned to Harry with a sickening ear to ear grin. "After it's done, you will watch as I let Longbottom have his way with Granger."
His smile only grew wilder at the evident alarm in Harry's face, "Dumbledore was right. There are much worse things than death but don't fret. I will cut your innards and bleed you once you're done witnessing them."
"Longbottom just needs to do one more thing."
Neville stepped forwards with the sword as Godric Gryffindor's lion appeared in the mirror. He roared at Neville and Neville seemed to understand him. Lifting the sword, Neville plunged the tip into the opening at the bottom of the mirror so the sword stuck out at a forty five degree angle. The lion roared again and the mirror flashed a triumphant gold as the lion transformed into Godric Gryffindor himself.
"You have proven yourself worthy, Neville Longbottom, son of Frank and Alice Longbottom. It is no easy task to pass the test of the Founders. Only the bravest and most courageous can stand before the mirror.
"Your wish?" Godric seemed unable to see the rest of them and focused his attention solely on Neville.
Neville looked around, first staring at Hermione and then up at Harry. Harry shook his head, swung his feet as he did anything he could to try and convince Neville to stop. Neville did not acknowledge him and turned one last time towards Voldemort.
"This is our time, Neville. Grant me immortal power and you shall have everything," Voldemort whispered reverently, his palms outstretched as an offering of power.
Neville continued looking at Voldemort, unspeaking and unmoving. After a few drawn out moments, he turned back towards the mirror and looked at Godric's towering form. He didn't speak, but his message seemed to be telepathically relayed.
Godric nodded once and responded, "As you wish."
Gryffindor disappeared from the mirror and a long tendril of magic suddenly snaked from the mirror. It danced in the air as it crept towards Voldemort and Voldemort opened his arms wide, inviting the magic towards him. It slithered around him, not unlike a snake, wrapping its tendrils around Voldemort's body. Voldemort laughed, his arms still outstretched as he lifted his head towards the skies in triumph.
Harry watched in horror as the magic kept wrapping around Voldemort, the never ending tendril from the mirror still continuing in circular motions around the body. Harry suddenly felt the blood rush back into his arms and a sudden descend to the floor. He clattered awkwardly to the ground, but he was free of the binds!
There anchor of the rope was still at the ceiling but the rope was decidedly frayed halfway down. Quickly untying the rope, Harry retrieved his wand and looked around the room. Voldemort was still distracted by the magic from the mirror, but Harry could see the slightest movement from the corner of the room. Ron shifted a bit, still lying on the ground but he was conscious. As Harry cancelled the silencing spell, he gave an okay sign to Ron. Ron nodded once and collapsed, his hand falling limp and his cheek pressed against the ground.
Voldemort extended his hands, gleefully laughing into the sky as the tendrils of magic slowly loosened and retracted into the mirror. Dismayed, Harry stood up and aimed his wand at him, a spell not really coming to his mind as he feared the worse. Voldemort had not yet realized his captor had escaped and was instead focused on himself. He looked down at his body as if there were some invisible aura surrounding him.
"Sectumsempra!"
It was a spell that his father once taught him, but he was warned from ever using it unless he really wanted to harm someone. His dad never explained the consequences of the particular spell, only stating that it would do the trick. Harry didn't know why that spell came to mind, but he acted on pure instinct. Voldemort, too busy admiring himself, did not attempt to block it but whirled around once he realized he was struck by a spell.
"You incorrigible whelp," Voldemort hissed, angered he didn't have time to bask in his newfound power. "Do you think any spell can stop me now? Did you not see what just happened?"
"I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. I am now the immortal ruler of the wizarding and Muggle worlds; the power bestowed upon me by the very boy you thought would save you all!" Voldemort triumphantly raised his arms in the air to the invisible crowd. He brought his wand hand crashing back down, sending a blistering spell that Harry only barely countered.
"This is true immortality."
But Voldemort suddenly stopped, a frown and a flash of pain creasing his reptilian visage. He looked a bit confused, but Harry did not know why. Voldemort slowly lowered a hand to his side and pressed against his robes. As he lifted his hand away, even Harry could see the slick blood matting the dark lord's black robes. The blood was bright red against the pale skin of Voldemort's palm and even Harry didn't quite understand what happened.
The realization came faster to Harry than Voldemort, however, as fresh cuts suddenly seared open Voldemort's face. It was the spell! For some reason it was working even after the spectacle of magic they both witnessed coming from the mirror.
"What is…" Voldemort trailed off as more cuts dug into his skin and drew blood.
The blood started dripping off the robes and splattering into the ground, the spell worsening as time continued. Voldemort looked helplessly at himself, trying to desperately come to terms with the sudden mortality of the situation. It was Harry that started to laugh once he realized what happened.
"What did you do?!" Voldemort cried in dismay.
"I didn't do anything," Harry continued to chuckle darkly. "Can't you SEE?!"
Harry was grinning from ear to ear as he looked at the comatose body of Neville Longbottom.
"Neville didn't give you immortal power. He took it away from you! Even after all the shit and lies you put him through; he still made the right decision. What did you think you could do? Turn everyone evil? Everyone's not like you, Voldemort! Everyone's not out to kill everyone and enslave the human race. Decent people will through."
"And what do you know of decent people?" Voldemort snarled as he crumpled to his knees, a puddle of blood pooling around him. "You're no worse than me. You think your friends will stay with you once they find out why you killed the Irish boy? You think that bitch will stay with you if she knew how many people you've killed in the name of revenge?!"
Voldemort was gasping, the pain now sapping what was left of his mortal power.
"You're no worse than me, Potter. Angry at the world. Angry at your parents. Everyone will come crawling on hands and knees to Longbottom," Voldemort bitterly spit out blood.
"I'm not him," Harry said quietly. "But you're kneeling in front of me now, aren't you?"
Voldemort snickered, more blood and spittle ejecting from his mouth.
"You think you've won, have you? You think that just because I bleed that you've finally defeated Lord Voldemort."
"You're pathetic," Harry retorted. "You still refer to yourself in third person as if you're some sort of God, but you're just another paranoid delusional freak. In the end, Neville won against you. He beat all your little mind games and mind traps and made you mortal. He's better than you. He's better than all of us."
"But he won't kill me. He doesn't have it in him. The prophecy will not be fulfilled," Voldemort crumpled onto his side, his cheek pressed against the ground as Harry towered over him.
"Do it, Potter. Kill me," Voldemort's red eyes focused on Harry's emerald orbs, goading him into the final kill.
"I know what you want to. Kill me, Potter, and see your revenge. I'll tell that bitch of a mother of yours how you did it. Maybe I'll have a little fun with her there too."
Harry strode over Voldemort's body and laid his boot against one of his open wounds, pressing down against the cut. Voldemort screamed at first as the pain registered in a capacity that had long been lost in his mind. Then, he laughed as he looked up at Harry, his teeth stained with blood as he smiled at him.
"You can't kill me, can you? You're just as pathetic as your father. This is why I will be great and will be remembered forever and you'll just be a footnote in history. I used to fear death, but here at the end, it's not what I fear. I fear nothing for I know everyone will remember Lord Voldemort."
"No one will remember the pathetic boy that couldn't kill him."
Harry pointed his wand at Voldemort's manic face, the anger surging through him as the words hit home. The echo of his father and mother sounded in his ears as he replayed the memory of his mother dying in his arms. The same rage that overtook him in Hogwarts was threatening to tear through his body. The blood rose from the ground and surrounded the pair, the thick curtain of red rising from the floor to the ceiling.
"That's it, Potter. Embrace the power. Kill me now! Repeat the endless cycle of death!"
Harry screamed at the top of his lungs as he wrenched his hand up and fired a spell that obliterated a section of the wall. The brick and mortar was expelled from the tower as he saw an opening to the night sky.
Voldemort dropped his head back, still laughing, "You've lost, Potter. There will be no revenge for you."
"No there won't," Harry said through labored breaths, "but you still get to die."
"Stupefy!"
Harry stunned him to shut him up, tired of his constant ranting and raving. He lifted his boot off Voldemort's wound, the bottom of his shoe slapping sickly against the ground as the blood covered the floor beneath him. Harry wanted nothing more than to end Voldemort's life and finally avenge his parents, but it was not to be. He would not be the one to kill the dark lord after all.
He looked down at Neville, the boy with only one hand who was supposed to kill Voldemort. How did he do it? How did he manage to bring Voldemort to the ground even after the endless mental torture?
"Enneverate."
Harry cast the spell on Neville and hauled the groggy boy to his feet.
"It's time, Neville," Harry said to him with a hand on his shoulder.
Neville mumbled something that Harry couldn't quite hear.
"What was that?" Harry asked as he leaned closer to hear him.
"I told you that you lost, Potter."
Alarm bells rang in Harry's head, but he pulled back to make sure he heard Neville correctly. As Neville lifted his head, Harry came face to face with those deadly red eyes.
"Avada Kedavra."
At first, Neville didn't quite understand what happened.
He had his wand in one hand and Harry was lying on the ground with a completely shocked expression on his face. Voldemort was crumpled in a pool of blood while Ron and Hermione were unconscious on various sides of the room.
As Neville blinked, a pulse of images flashed in front of him and he almost dropped his wand in shock. Dismayed, he knelt down beside Harry's body and pressed two fingers into his carotid artery.
Dead.
Neville pulled his hand back as if it had been burned, his wand clattering noisily against the ground. He couldn't believe what he saw in front of him. Harry was dead, his eyes open and frightened and his face stuck in perpetual shock. Surely, he had to know. Harry knew it wasn't Neville that killed him.
His mind was finally free of the endless fog that surrounded it ever since they had arrived in London. Neville was barely aware of what was transpiring; only fleeting glimpses of entering the tower coming to him. But he was all too aware of what he did in the last few moments.
The sound of gargled laughter reached Neville's ears and his neck snapped up as he tried to locate the source of the sound. He scrambled to his feet, picking up his wand as he walked towards Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord was conscious and laughing - no - wheezing blood. The metallic smell rose to Neville's nostrils as he did his best to swallow down the bile that threatened to erupt.
"Tell me, Longbottom. Is this how you envisioned it would happen? Potter dead by your wand?" Voldemort asked.
"I didn't kill him," Neville growled. "You killed him! You're the one who cast the spell!"
"I did nothing. I only gave you that small bit of persuasion you needed to push you over the edge."
"I DIDN'T KILL HIM. You did! I made my choice. I made you mortal."
"Yet in the end, you still couldn't control your mind. All you need was a little nudge and now Potter is dead," Voldemort turned his head, coating the other side of his face in blood, to look at Harry's dead body.
"I didn't…I didn't do it," Neville desperately repeated.
"Just like you didn't try to rape that little Mudblood?"
"That was you!"
"Stop lying to yourself, Longbottom."
"No it was not! Cruciatus!"
Voldemort howled, but even in between the shouts of pain, Neville could hear the gleeful laughter buried beneath the torturous moans. Neville cast the torture spell again, hoping to render him finally useless, but Voldemort was not so easily broken.
"It was all you, Voldemort. You took over my mind. You made me do things!"
"I never made you do anything," Voldemort shook his head as his voice started straining. "Even with our connection, I couldn't force you to do things against your body's will. I could plant ideas and I could gain complete access to your mind, but I could not make you do anything, Longbottom. That's not how it works. It had to be there. The thought had to already be there."
Neville screamed in frustration and cast another spell, hoping to silence the dark lord. Deep down, Neville knew Voldemort was right. There was always that dreadful feeling that Neville had…enjoyed it.
"Will you tell them? Will you tell them how you killed Harry Potter?" Voldemort managed to squeeze out the question, but each word was more difficult to enunciate than the last.
He couldn't answer him. He stood over him, looking down at his fated nemesis. Voldemort was no longer the powerful wizard of his time. Unable to move and covered in blood, Lord Voldemort was barely tethered to life, only holding on from the little power he could keep from the tower. Voldemort look a sad sight, covered in blood from head to toe and constantly gasping from the pain.
"I've won," Voldemort whispered.
"No you haven't," Neville replied. "I kill you."
But Voldemort only smiled, his teeth blood stained and his eyes serenely closing as Neville uttered the words that would take his life.
The moment was anti-climactic as Voldemort slumped backwards unmoving. Neville waited for some cataclysmic shifting in the sky; a sign from the heavens that the deed was done. There was no such monumental moment, but there was a rumbling as the walls started to shake. Bits and pieces of rubble started falling from the ceiling and Neville knew it was time to leave.
He mustered his remaining strength to wake Hermione and Ron as he tried to lead them towards the exit. Upon Harry's dead body, Hermione broke into uncontrollable sobs that wrenched the very soul out of Neville. Ron pulled Hermione by the waist and Neville, to the best of his ability with just one hand, tried to drag Hermione out of the chamber. Her desperate cries rang forever as the tower crumbled into a heap.
As Neville exited the tower, running past the dead bodies of Seamus, Sirius, Padma, and Dean respectively, he emerged to a triumphant force of Muggles and wizards. The remaining Death Eaters fled once they realized their master was dead and the tower was crumbling and all that was left was a worn but grinning pair. Draco and Ginny helped the trio out of the tunnel.
"Where's Seamus? Dean? Padma?"
"Dead," Ron could only hoarsely answer, refusing to look back at the tunnel as he gazed out at the rising sun.
"And Voldemort? Is he really dead?" Draco asked with great intensity.
Neville nodded, looking the Slytherin man in the eye, "Voldemort's dead. I killed him."
A chorus of cheers rang out at Neville's announcement, Muggles and wizards alike jubilantly slapping each other in the back as the great war finally ended. It was a pristine picture, the sun rising to a burnt city, but the heroic forces madly applauding in a giant circle around Neville, Hermione, and Ron.
Amidst the celebration, one more question was asked by a tentative Ginny, "And Harry?"
Neville paused, turning around to look at the crumpled remains of the defunct tower. Later, people would theorize how the tower had collapsed and how it was connected to Voldemort, but no one cared right now. The only thing people cared about was that Voldemort was finally dead.
"Voldemort killed him," Neville answered hollowly.
Hermione sobbed and collapsed in Ginny's arms, her tears flowing uncontrollably at Neville's affirmation of her beliefs. Ginny soothingly patted her on the back, her own tears leaking from her tearducts as she looked at the pile of debris.
"So that's it then?" Draco asked one last time, hoping it was truly over. "That's all that happened?"
Neville closed his eyes, the truth swelling from within as it threatened to burst forward and scream from the top of its lungs. He opened his eyes, surveying the red blaze of the sun emerging from over the horizon. He saw Nott congratulating the Muggles by shaking each of their hands. He saw wizards shoot spells into the sky and Muggles shoot their guns into the air in celebration.
But he felt nothing.
As he closed his eyes again, the only thing he saw were the two red slits that dominated his mind for weeks on end.
"That's it," Neville croaked out. "It's finished."
A/N: There will be one more chapter. Reviews are welcome.