The flames that had swallowed Fred and George seemed as though they would never burn out, roaring high in the air.
Harry stared fixedly at the blaze, as if the flames were burning his eyes and throat along with it, scorching his eyes until they stung and leaving him barely able to breathe.
Fred and George's laughing voices seemed to linger around his ears, as though they were trying to tell him that the fire burning in midair was merely another one of their pranks.
Yet it only seemed that way. He could no longer hear Fred and George's voices.
It's because of me...
Harry could not stop himself from thinking it.
Wizet's unknown fate, Fred and George's sacrifice, the devastation littering Hogwarts...
As the person mentioned in the prophecy, if he had been able to do more when facing Voldemort, perhaps none of this would have happened.
It was as though that thought had set his soul ablaze, and fury rose within his heart.
It was a rage that could not be extinguished, no matter how desperately he suppressed his emotions.
He knew perfectly well that there was only one way to put out that rage: defeat the culprit behind all of this!
Harry swiftly turned his head and quickly found Voldemort, who was fending off the fierce attacks of Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald.
He gripped his wand tightly and drew a deep breath.
At that moment, he clearly realized that his wand was in his hand, the ground beneath his feet was a dueling ground, and all he had to do now was fight the final duel against the other person mentioned in the prophecy!
He wanted to defeat Voldemort more than he ever had before!
To achieve that, he was willing to give everything, even his own