Chapter 1547: It's Time to Hit the Road
Chapter 1547: It's Time to Hit the Road
"Is it finally my turn to make an entrance?"
Hearing the echoes reverberating between the walls and floors, Harry turned to look at Albert.
"It's your turn now," Albert said with a smile. "Are you scared?"
"To be honest, a little," Harry admitted. He had come to terms with facing death.
"That's perfectly normal. If given a choice, who would want to die?" Albert replied.
"Let's go, then." Harry released his clenched palms, leaving the Resurrection Stone on the desk as he walked out of Dumbledore's office.
"You're going like that?" Albert called out, a bit exasperated.
"What do you mean?" Harry stopped and turned, confusion written on his face. He didn't quite understand Albert's implication, but he soon realized why Albert had asked that question.
A house-elf appeared out of thin air in the Headmaster's office, bowing slightly to Harry and Albert before disappearing with Harry using a Disapparition spell.
"You don't seem as confident as you're trying to portray," Phineas' portrait on the wall commented as soon as Harry had left.
"Of course, anyone would feel nervous at a crucial moment like this. Am I right, Professor Dumbledore?" Albert ignored Phineas' teasing and gazed out the window at the night sky, murmuring, "It's finally coming to an end."
After Voldemort's declaration, the battle within the castle had almost ceased. Everyone was now gathering at the castle's main entrance, eager to witness the legendary duel that would decide the outcome of the Wizarding War.
Leading the way was Voldemort and his group of Dark Wizards.
As the Dark Wizards reassembled, they immediately realized something was amiss. Their once massive group had dwindled to less than a third of its original size.
No one would believe that they had suddenly turned cowards and fled.
So, what had happened?
They all turned their gazes to the ancient castle before them, a chill running down their spines.
Not long ago, they had been confident of their ability to conquer the castle, but in less than an hour, their numbers had drastically reduced.
How had the castle devoured the lives of hundreds of their comrades in such a short time?
No, it wasn't just a few hundred. The entire battlefield was now almost empty, with only their group remaining.
The expendable foot soldiers that Ax had used to attack the castle had disappeared without a trace.
Perhaps the number of giants wasn't significant, but there had certainly been a substantial number of werewolves, and none of them had appeared in the previous duels.
Where had the werewolves gone?
It was inconceivable that they had all turned tail and run. The only plausible explanation was that they had all perished.
This chilling speculation sent shivers down everyone's spines as they soon arrived at a terrifying conclusion: Had the Aurors of the International Confederation of Wizards finally taken action against them?
Aside from this, the Dark Wizards couldn't fathom any other possibility.
Some of the more astute Dark Wizards, sensing that something was amiss, began to quietly inch backward, hoping to find an opportunity to escape this dreadful place.
Their subtle movements were noticed by the other Dark Wizards, but no one voiced their concerns aloud, as the desire to retreat was spreading among them.
They hadn't joined Voldemort's ranks to be mere cannon fodder, sacrificing their lives without reaping any benefits. So many had died, and they had yet to gain anything from this alliance.
If they stayed any longer, they would only be putting their own lives at risk.
It wasn't worth it.
However, Voldemort paid no heed to those with fleeing intentions. His eyes were fixed on the crowd pouring out of the oak front doors, spreading out in a line, as he searched for Harry Potter.
"Are you looking for me?"
A voice suddenly rang out from within the crowd, and all eyes turned to see Harry stepping forward from the parted group.
"Harry!"
In truth, no one could quite comprehend why Harry had chosen to face Voldemort in a duel, why he was willingly walking to his death.
Yes, no one believed that Harry stood a chance against Voldemort in a duel.
Even if someone had to face Voldemort, it shouldn't have been Harry.
"Oh, how surprising. I thought you'd run away," Voldemort said, raising his hand to silence the commotion behind him.
"Run away? Why would I do that?" Harry replied, holding Voldemort's gaze without a hint of fear.
"I thought you'd hide behind Albert Anderson," Voldemort said, reassessing the boy standing before him. His lipless mouth twisted into a strange, gloomy smile.
"I considered that, but the feud between us needs to end, so here I stand," Harry said, fully aware that Voldemort didn't truly care about him. But he, too, didn't mind that fact.
"You're right, Harry Potter, the boy who lived," Voldemort said softly, his voice carrying to everyone present. "It's time to settle our score and put an end to that blasted prophecy. Let's have a duel to the death, witnessed by all, and show me what you've got. Show me why Dumbledore chose you to oppose me."
"This body has nothing to do with it," Harry shook his head.
"Is it that so-called love again?" Voldemort sneered.
"You truly are pathetic, knowing nothing of your fate!" Harry looked at Voldemort with pity in his eyes.
Indeed, the man before him was ignorant of how his destiny had been orchestrated long ago by certain individuals.
Whether it was Dumbledore or Albert.
"What do you mean by that?" Voldemort suspected that Harry was trying to provoke him.
"Your little tricks have been seen through," Harry said with a soft laugh. "You thought you'd murdered Dumbledore, but you didn't realize that he had chosen the manner of his own death. All of this was planned long ago—my standing here dueling you, your acquisition of Dumbledore's elder wand from his grave, the death of Snape, and even the inevitable failure of this Wizarding War. Everything was predetermined, and yet you remain oblivious."
Voldemort's pupils narrowed to thin slits, and his skin paled at Harry's words, which clearly unnerved him.
"Thinking you had everything under control, but unaware that your life and death were also being manipulated. Now, let me send you on your way!"
As Harry spoke these words, which made everyone's pupils shake with fear, he curled his lips into a pleasant smile and raised his wand, seemingly ready to deliver a fatal blow to Voldemort.
However, the more experienced Voldemort had already acted as soon as Albert raised his wand. His movements were faster than Harry's, and just as Harry was about to swing his wand down, Voldemort shouted a curse.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A deadly beam of green light shot out from Voldemort's wand, expanding before everyone's eyes. Just before the light of death engulfed their vision, Voldemort saw that Harry Potter, wand raised high, was smiling.
Harry had not cast any spells to counter the attack. His wand movement seemed more like a trap to lure Voldemort in, and then, willingly embracing death, Harry Potter walked unflinchingly toward the green light that symbolized the end.
And in Harry Potter's final moment, he smiled—a smile so strange that it sent shivers down Voldemort's spine.
(End of Chapter)
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