Duel with Death

The ground looked as though it had been plowed by iron rakes, a complete mess. The withered shrubs and spruces that had regained their vitality after being swept by emerald light were once again scorched by thunder and black mist. The air had cleared, yet that invisible, evil magic filled with fury had not faded. It was still poised to strike.

The Death Eaters felt as though thorns were pricking their backs, trembling all over. They had all seen how terrifying the Dark Lord was when enraged. Hoping that he would "remember old ties" at a time like this was nothing but wishful thinking.

No one dared ask what had happened. As for that altar, perhaps only the Dark Lord himself knew what it was.

"Before Voldemort's power, any conspiracy or trickery is useless."

Voldemort spoke softly. He had no intention of explaining himself, merely offering that transparent excuse. Then, at last, he looked at Harry.

The final moment had arrived. Harry knew it. He let out a breath of relief. Under Voldemort's watchful gaze, Sparkle had no chance to take him away now. That was for the best.

Harry slowly bent down and picked up the wand he had dropped earlier. His emerald-green eyes, filled with hatred, fixed on Voldemort.

"It seems you came prepared, didn't you, Potter?"

Voldemort approached slowly. With a soft laugh, he said to his Death Eaters,

"I think you have all seen how foolish it was to believe this boy stronger than me. Now, I shall thoroughly erase that misunderstanding from your minds. Harry Potter escaped from my hands only through sheer luck. This is the final act of Voldemort's resurrection ceremony. I will kill him, prove my power, here and now, before your very eyes.

"There is no Dumbledore or Breen here to