by M. Tyrone Darklord
Voldemort lay on the forest floor. He gasped for breath, blood dripped from his mouth. He had no wand.
Harry stood over him, pointing a wand at the pale face of the fallen dark wizard. The forest around them was heavy with silence. Voldemort spoke.
“Before you I die,” he said. “There is something you must know. Something Dumbledore would never tell you. I did not kill your father.
"What?” Harry’s hand was steady. He would not fall for another of Voldemort’s tricks.
“Harry, I did not kill your father.” Voldemort reach up and pulled his dark hood back to reveal a scar on his forehead shaped like a lightning bolt. He took one final breath and exhaled: “I am your father.”
“No,” said Harry. “No. Nooooooooooooooooooo!”
His voice echoed through the forest, but none heard. Voldemort was dead. And Harry was alone once more.
-0-
A loud crack filled the air. Voldemort froze with his wand held high above Harry. Several large figures apparated around Voldemort. He froze with his wand held high above Harry, who still lay on the ground.
“It ends now, Voldemort,” said the tallest of the figures. He stepped forward and cast a long shadow over the Dark Lord.
“It’s … it’s not possible,” Voldemort stammered as he looked into the robot’s steely eyes, his own overcome with fear.
Harry knew now that he was safe. Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots, had returned to finish the job he started so many years earlier.
-0-
Voldemort and Harry raised their wands, ready to duel to the death. They inhaled at the same moment. As their wrists made the first twitch towards a spell a thin gray hand grabbed Voldemort’s shoulder. The dark wizard spun around to face his attacker and crumpled immediately.
Harry’s heart raced. Dumbledore had returned! Then he looked more closely and could tell that the figure biting and gnawing at the head of Voldemort was not the Dumbledore he knew and loved. Albus Dumbledore, former headmaster of Hogwarts who fought so valiantly so many times, was now a zombie.
The sight of Voldemort’s dead body had temporarily lifted Harry’s spirits, but now a new thought entered his mind. He must fight the zombie of his former mentor, and he must act quickly before Voldemort reanimated and joined the fray.
-0-
Even though Voldemort now lay dead Harry could not relax. Soon other wizards would be rushing to his side. They would have questions. Harry could explain the body of Voldemort easily enough -- but what about the pandas?
-0-
“It doesn’t have to be like this Harry,” shouted Voldemort from across the lawn. “You could join me. There are no wizards more powerful than us. We would be unstoppable. We could rule the world. Your wildest wish desire would be yours. Think of what we could do if united. Think of the possibilities!”
Harry considered the offer. Voldemort’s argument was tempting.
“Alright then,” Harry shouted back, “I’ll do it.” The two wizards walked towards each other with determined, eager strides and sealed their deal with a handshake.
-0-
There were flashes of red and green light. Harry and Voldemort were both still standing, but their wands had been destroyed.
“It seems there is only way to settle this now, Potter,” shouted the dark wizard.
“How’s that?” Harry shouted back.
“A race. Around the world. We leave King’s Cross at noon tomorrow.”
The two stared intensely at each other. Harry knew Voldemort to be right. There was no way around it. “Then I’ll see you at noon!” Harry snarled back.
In that instant the two turned and hurried off in opposite directions. Harry’s heart burned inside his chest. He had suitcases to pack.
-0-
“And that, children, is the story of the battle of Hogwarts,” said the pale old storyteller as he closed a massive, well-worn book.
“Professor,” said a young red-haired girl, “is that a true story?”
“Of course is it sweety, of course it is.”
“How do you know?”
“I was there,” the old man said, and the young girl’s eyes widened with excitement. “For I am Lord Voldemort.”
Share or be shared:
