*This is a retelling of the final exchange between Harry and Voldemort in chapter 36 of Deathly Hollows, right after Molly Weasley defeats Bellatrix Lestrange.*
“Protego!”
Harry’s Invisibility Cloak fluttered from him as the spell left his wand. The Shield Charm filled the middle of the hall, and it only took moments before everyone knew who was the source.
“Harry!”
“HE’S ALIVE!”
The cheers died down as quickly as they began. Pressure filled the air, choking the words at their throats, for they dared not break the tension that built between Harry and Voldemort when their eyes met. Slowly, their circling footfalls tread upon the sudden silence, the creaks of their hands squeezing their wands so loud that it was like boards about to snap. Harry could see movement out of the corner of his eye, and raised his hand to stop them.
“I ask that you stay behind the shield. It has to be this way. It has to be me.”
The Dark Lord hissed. “Potter doesn’t mean that. That isn’t how he works, is it? Tell me, who do you plan to hide behind today?”
“Nobody.” Harry flicked his hand out, a lash of red erupting from his want and lancing towards Voldemort’s chest.
His foe flicked his wrist to brush the spell to the side, splashing it harmlessly against Harry’s own shield. “I defeated Dumbledore, boy, do not think-”
“You didn’t!” Another spell flew from Harry’s wand, striking the shield that Voldemort summoned with enough force to make him stagger. The Dark Lord looked at him in shock. By every metric, that shouldn’t have happened, unless what Harry had guessed was true. “It wasn’t you who felled the greatest wizard to ever live, was it Tom?”
Anger flared The Dark Lord’s red eyes. “You dare?!” A streak of green blasted from the Elder Wand, only to be batted aside with a simple deflection from Harry.
That confirmed it, and he couldn’t let Voldemort figure it out. “It was Snape who killed him!”
“Under my orders!”
“No, under his.”
Spell and curse crashed against each other, their collisions thunder that drowned all else out but their words. Confusion had made itself known on Voldemort’s face, and Harry took the opening, letting anger fuel the next spell he spoke.
“Sectumsempra!”
A flash of white slashes across The Dark Lord’s chest and he cried out in pain, disbelief splaying across his snakish features as blood poured from his lips.
Harry continue to let his spells fly. “Dumbledore chose how he died! Months in advance, and who do you think he asked to do such a task? The man you thought was so faithful a servant!” He could hear the gasps from behind the shield, but stayed focused.
“What does it matter?!” A flurry of magic whipped out from the Elder Wand, all of which Harry deflected with ease. The anger on Voldemort’s face grew hotter. “He is dead and rotting in a marble grave! I have seen his corpse, Potter! He will not return and that Half-Blood filth lies in a pool of his own blood! This wand is proof of that!”
Curse after curse battered against Harry’s protections, but each one lacked the weight to break them. “And such display you are giving with it, Tom! Who is it that bleeds in this moment? Who is it that has failed to kill his enemy thrice?!”
“You think you know more magic than me, Potter?! I, who dared venture where the great Albus Dumbledore only dreamed of?!”
“Oh, he dreamed of it, but he always had what you will never possess, and that is the wisdom to leave those path’s untread!”
“He was weak!”
“And yet, you had to hide behind another to kill him, and even then you were dancing to his tune the whole time.”
1/3
fate defying expelliarmus