Order of the Phoenix
Know Your Enemy
By Ruskbyte
Chapter Nineteen
~ Know Your Enemy ~
They were close. From over the rampart high up on the Astronomy Tower, Harry could make out the moving shadows amidst the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. The steely grey clouds hung low in the air
above the school and a chill had descended in the hour it taken for Voldemort and his minions to wind their way to Hogwarts.
*This is an unnatural cold, Harry.*
*It penetrates through skin, flesh and bone down to your very soul.*
It's the Dementors, decided Harry. So many of them. Coming to feed.
Harry turned from looking out over the forest to inspect the assembly of defenders now arrayed across the battlements of the castle. It had taken some convincing on Dumbledore's part, with help from McGonagall, Flitwick and Lupin, but the Aurors stationed at Hogwarts were cooperating with regards to Harry's plans for the upcoming battle.
Thomas Nitta, the senior Auror, and his second in command, Leanne Van Walten, had acquiesced to the headmaster's wishes and were deploying according to Ron's orders. The fifty one Aurors were spaced out more-or-less evenly across the castle wall, interspersed with those teachers and students that had volunteered to help fight. It was mostly seventh and sixth-year students that had come out, but there were a fair number of fifth and fourth-years, mostly from those who regularly attended Practical Fighting Techniques.
"You know, this is almost disappointing."
Ron's disembodied voice echoed and made Harry smile. "Why do you say that?" He could imagine his friend, safely ensconced far beneath the castle, gesticulating at the map and at Voldemort's approaching minions.
"There's absolutely no order to You-Know-Who's forces," observed Ron. "At least none that I can see. They're either hiding their strategy very well, or whoever's in charge doesn't have a clue when it comes to organizing his forces."
"Harry?" a hand came to rest on his shoulder, "are you all right?"
He turned to face Remus and Sirius, his scarlet and gold Quidditch robes swishing loudly in the silence hanging over the area. Since none of the Aurors were stationed on the tower Sirius had temporarily returned to his human form, his eyes sparkling with worry.
"I'll be all right," he replied. "It's you I worry about."
Sirius scowled and shook his head, his long hair whipping about from the movement. Next to him Remus laughed lightly and patted his old friend on the back. "Nothing ever changes I see."
Harry smiled and exchanged a bemused look with Ginny, who was standing near the stairwell. He returned his attention to his godfather. "Try not to get yourself killed."
"I'm not going to die," asserted Sirius with icy certainty.
"Really?" asked Remus, arching his eyebrows, "you sound awfully certain about that."
A look of grim determination settled of Sirius' harsh features and a frightening gleam entered his piercing blue eyes. He bared his teeth in a silent snarl and growled, "I'm going to live long enough to catch and kill Peter Pettigrew first."
*This godfather of yours is a dangerous man.*
That he is.
"Remus?" It was Ron. "If you're finished talking with Harry, can you and Snuffles get to your positions by the North Tower?"
Remus nodded and, after clapping Harry on the shoulder, made his way to the stairs. Sirius looked after his friend and then engulfed Harry in a bear hug. Just when Harry thought he would need to pry Sirius free to breathe again, Sirius pulled back.
"You be careful now, understand?"
"Don't worry so much. Killing me isn't going to help them," assured Harry. After a moment thought he smiled mirthlessly. "Of course, come to think about it, it's not going to help me all that much either."
Sirius nodded and backed away to the stairs, changing into Snuffles as he reached Lupin's side. The two quickly wound their way down, leaving only Harry and Ginny standing up on the tower. Harry looked worriedly at her, standing there with her robes pulled tight around her.
*She seems distracted.*
"You okay, Gin?" he asked softly, moving to stand by her.
"Not really," she replied, "I keep thinking about my first year. The diary."
Harry nodded his understanding and gently took her in his arms, holding her close to him. With a shudder she buried her face against his chest and clung to him. "It's the Dementors," he said as he slowly rocked back and forth.
She shivered in his arms. "I know. I remember how it was when they were here searching for Sirius. But this time is worse."
"I think they were holding back then," replied Harry, "because of Dumbledore."
"At least this time I have something to fight them off with."
Harry smiled and kissed the crown of her head. "I hear your Patronus is quite spectacular, even if I haven't been able to convince Professor Lupin to tell me what it is."
She pulled back slightly and grinned up at him, a slight blush on her cheeks. "You'll be seeing it soon enough, Mr Potter. Patience is a virtue, try to remember that."
"I tend to forget myself around you, Ms Weasley," he replied, leaning to kiss her softly.
Ginny looked up at him, her warm chocolate eyes wide and glistening. "Please tell me everything's going to be all right. I don't want anything to happen to you."
*You do have some idea about what you're going to do, don't you?*
Not a clue. I'm making this up as I go.
"Don't worry, Gin. I know almost exactly what I'm doing."
***
"I think I'm going to throw up."
Hermione nodded her agreement to Neville's words and said, "You and me both."
She, along with Neville and Cho, had been stationed by Ron along the ramparts, between Professor McGonagall and one of the Aurors, a man called Curtis. Apparently Ron, although he had not said anything, had specifically planned for Neville and Cho to be together. Everyone in Gryffindor was seemingly delighted by their budding relationship, especially after Neville's minor panic attack the previous evening.
Only Ron would try to continue playing matchmaker during an attack by You-Know-Who.
Most of the students participating in the defence had been grouped in twos and threes, spread out between the many Aurors and scattered teachers. Very few of them had any proficiency in casting a Patronus Charm, less than a dozen of them actually, so Ron had assigned them the task of keeping the trolls and Acromantulas at bay while the teachers and Aurors dealt with the Dementors.
"I just wish I had more than a half decent Patronus," muttered Cho, watching as the Dementors drifted in the shadows at the edge of the forest.
"I wish I had a half descent Patronus," retorted Neville.
Since the attack on Hogsmeade during Christmas and the news that the Dementors had abandoned their posts, Professor Lupin had been drilling all his students on the Patronus Charm. Every year from first up until seventh were had been going over the spell for the past two months, even if most could barely produce more than a fine mist or sparks.
In fact, most of the school were spending more time in Defence Against Dark Arts than any other subject. Subjects such as History of Magic, Astronomy, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Divination had all suffered heavy losses those students that could pulled out. Divination had been particularly hard hit.
As I have always said, a pointless class.
According to Lavender and Parvati, the only Gryffindor fifth-years still taking the subject, Trelawney was livid. Apparently she was blaming Harry personally for the decline in attendance.
"Mine's not that good," downplayed Cho.
"It's better than mine or Neville's," replied Hermione. "At least you manage to give it some shape, mine's just a fine mist."
"At least you get a mist," moaned Neville dejectedly.
"Pay attention!" snapped Curtis, who had been listening with half an ear, "here they come."
***
"Steady. Steady," urged Ron's voice, "wait for it."
Voldemort's small army had finally cleared the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the tall black forms of the Dementors gliding silently towards Hogwarts. Ginny watched as the foul creatures detached from the shadows and slowly began to approach.
"Wait. Wait."
Though nobody other than herself and Professor Lupin had seen it, Ginny's Patronus was possibly the most powerful one in the school, save Harry's of course. Because of this, and her obvious connection to the Order of the Phoenix, Ginny had not been grouped with any other students. Instead she had been partnered with Professor Flitwick and was located in the centre of the line of Aurors stretching across the ramparts.
He would match me up with a duelling master.
Ron had not been happy with the decision, but had eventually agreed with it. Fred and George, a dozen or so yards down the line, had been even more vocal in their protests. Dumbledore and Harry had insisted, however, and they too had backed down.
"Steady. Line up your targets."
More nervous than she had ever been in her life, except perhaps during the previous summer when she had written to Harry and sent him a present for his birthday, Ginny aimed her wand down at the advancing mass of Dementors. She licked her lips and tried to ignore the churning of her stomach and the pressing cold that was gnawing at her.
"NOW!!"
Shouts of "Expecto Patronum!" rang out across the battlements and silver shapes, large and small, sprang forth, charging down to the grounds.
Ginny had first attempted the Patronus Charm during her duel with Harry after the Christmas holidays. Then, before Professor Lupin's lessons and some tips from Harry and several teachers, her Patronus had been just more than a fine mist. A weak web of silver, run through with gold, that could barely hold a Dementor back.
Now, after countless hours of practice, it was much, much more.
"Expecto Patronum!" she cried, concentrating on the wonderful, overwhelming, feeling of joy and completeness she had felt that first time--and every time since--that she and Harry had kissed.
It was a man, sitting astride a broomstick and bedecked in Quidditch Robes as well as pads and gloves. He was awash in gleaming, flickering silver that could outshine a full moon. He was, as anyone familiar with the sport could tell, a Seeker. And clustered around him, glowing so bright that they were hard to look at, were a dozen Golden Snitches.
Now that everyone's finally seen him, the twins are never going to let me live this down.
Her Patronus streaked through the air as silver blur, surrounded by glowing gold orbs, and cut a swath through the ranks of the Dementors. Following closely behind the Seeker, coming from the Astronomy Tower, were three giant golden forms. Harry's Patroni drove a wedge into the Dementors, tearing apart anything that got before them.
Ginny watched as Prongs, the giant stag, impaled a Dementor with his antlers and threw his head back, tossing the vile creature high into the air. The Dementor crashed heavily to the ground and exploded in black and dark blue fire, burnt to ashes and shadow in a bare instant. At the same time Prongs reared up on his hind legs and shattered another Dementor's head with a blow from his powerful front legs. He dropped back down and cantered to one side, swinging his head to impale another Dementor.
Moony the werewolf tore the legs out from one Dementor and leapt upon it as it fell, tearing viciously at this fallen creature. If Dementors had proper throats, then that is what he tore at with his gleaming fangs, pouncing away and onto another Dementor as the one beneath him burst into flames and disintegrated.
She saw her Seeker sweep past, one arm held out stiff and smashing against a Dementor's chest as the Golden Snitches tore through another. The Dementor he had, she thought the term was clothes lined, knocked to the ground was immediately set upon by the hulking form of Padfoot, who tore at its robes and flailing limbs.
They work well together. Like a well practiced team.
After several minutes, most of the Patroni that had been fighting the Dementors began to lose their brilliant sheen and faded away. The three Marauders and Ginny's Seeker and Snitches lasted much longer than any of the others, battling against the Dementors until they too were finally overwhelmed by their prey.
"Hoohoo!" exclaimed Professor Flitwick happily, "I'd say we got thirty of them! At least thirty, don't you think?"
Ginny smiled at this, aware of the awed look the Auror to her right was giving her. Her Patronus, along with Harry's, had easily accounted for at least half that number, maybe even two thirds of it.
"Which still leaves over two hundred and twenty," chided Ron's voice. "Don't count your owls before they hatch, Professor. Ready a second volley, if you can, on my order!"
She looked up at the Astronomy tower just in time to see Snape push Harry over the edge.
***
Falling through the air, Harry was disconcertedly reminded of the few times he fallen from his broom whilst playing Quidditch. Only this time he had deliberately allowed himself to be sent hurtling towards the ground.
*I sincerely hope this little stunt doesn't get you killed.*
That makes two of us.
*Slightly more than that actually. You forgot about the rest of the Order.*
With a twist and a deft spin, Harry flipped head over heels only an instant before the ground rushed up to meet him. He landed nimbly on his feet, crouched low with his hands out for support and showing no more effort than if he had rolled off his bed.
All action on the battlefield spread out before him seemed to come to a halt as he looked up and faced a surprised Voldemort and his four companion Death Eaters. The Dark Lord was instantly recognisable by his tall, skinny frame and his pale mockery of a face. The Death Eaters were cloaked in black and hidden behind their masks, but he recognised the stances of the two standing to either side of Voldemort.
I don't see Wormtail anywhere, noted Harry as he slowly stood up. I guess he's not as stupid as he seems.
*Harry, nobody could be as stupid as he seems.*
Standing straight, Harry ignored the shivering cold of the Dementors that was permeating the air around him and gave a short, mocking bow to his opponents. Voldemort's scarlet eyes narrowed, and his thin lips curled as he motioned his Death Eaters forward.
"Bring him to me," he hissed, a skeletal finger aimed at Harry.
The two Death Eaters Harry did not recognise immediately charged towards him, apparently intent on dragging him to their master by their own hands. Harry remained in his place, rising up onto the balls of his feet as they bore down on him. Just as the first one reached him he seemed to explode into action.
Harry's right leg snapped out as his hips pivoted, connecting a simple yet effective side kick into his attacker's stomach. The Death Eater folded in half, clutching at his middle as Harry stepped close and smashed his left knee into the man's face.
As the now insensate Death Eater collapsed to the ground, Harry pivoted and simultaneously leapt three feet into the air. As he spun about his leg shot out and nearly separated the second Death Eater's head from his shoulders. Harry landed lightly and watched with a smirk as the man toppled over like a felled tree, just as unconscious as his companion.
*Wizards these days have no appreciation for personal combat.*
*They've become lazy. Complacent. Prefer to use their wands instead of their hands.*
Just makes my job easier. Oh, this should be fun. I know this one.
The tall Death Eater was marching up to Harry with long strides, his hood thrown back and mask discarded to reveal his moustached face. In his hand, instead of a wand, he was holding a large and gleaming axe of which he was eagerly fingering the keen edge.
"Macnair," growled Harry, remembering not only his past encounter with the man during Voldemort's rebirth the previous year, but also how the brute had been assigned to execute Buckbeak, Hagrid's hippogriff.
The burly man bared his teeth and took his axe in both hands, clearly ready and willing to fight. Harry reached within the folds of his scarlet Quidditch robes and drew clear the gleaming blade of Godric Gryffindor's sword. With practiced grace he weaved the broadsword through the air between them and settled into a ready posture.
"That puny table knife will not be able to help you, Potter!" snarled Macnair.
"Come and get me then," taunted Harry, shifting fluidly into another stance and then another.
With a bestial roar, Macnair charged forward, swinging his axe high over his head and down. Harry arced his sword up and across, deflecting the axe as he pivoted on a heel. As he spun around and Macnair's momentum carried him past, Harry switched hands and smacked the Death Eater on the rump with the flat edge of the blade.
*Clumsy oaf, isn't he?*
*Relies too much on his size and strength.*
He never did strike me as being overly smart.
Macnair snarled in frustration and whirled around to face Harry again. His strokes were shorter this time round and more controlled, but still he could not penetrate Harry's defence. The blades clashed together, ringing out loudly as Harry parried again and again. With a deft flick he twisted the axe to one side and slashed across Macnair's chest.
"Grraah!"
The Death Eater stumbled back, hissing in pain from the deep cut. Steadying himself, Macnair glared at Harry, his eyes burning with rage. With his teeth bared in animalistic fury he ran forward again, swinging his axe wildly.
Harry blocked and deflected several blows before deciding that Macnair was doing nothing more than wasting his time. He was down here to fight Voldemort, not deal with his lackeys. For a moment he seemed to lower his sword, creating an opening for Macnair to strike at. As the Death Eater swung his axe, Harry neatly stepped to the side and lashed out.
"EEEEEAAAARRRGGH!!"
"Not to worry," Harry said as he returned Gryffindor's sword to its sheath, "I'm certain your master will give you a new hand. He's done it before."
Macnair dropped to his knees, mewling in pain, and Harry stepped away from him to face the last of the Death Eaters Voldemort had sent his way. Anyone watching would have felt their blood go cold as green eyes locked with grey eyes.
The pure, unadulterated hatred that began to seep from Harry at the sight of his foe was an almost palpable force. Even if he had not thrown back his cowl, even if he had still been wearing his Death Eater mask, even if the Situation Map had not already revealed his identify, Harry would have recognised him.
*What do you know; it's the arsehole's father.*
They do look alike, don't they? Unfortunately their attitudes are the same as well.
"You're working for a madman, you know," he said in a conversational tone.
Lucius Malfoy sneered back at him. "He pays well."
Harry smirked and retorted, "I thought the Malfoys weren't wanting for money. Is your greed that blinding?"
"My Lord deals in the currency of power, boy."
"Then let's see how well he pays you," challenged Harry, drawing his wand.
Malfoy's sneer intensified as he drew his own wand from within his black robes and immediately fired a curse his way. "Binduscorpus!" he shouted, causing magical ropes to explode out from the tip of his wand and straight at Harry.
Harry leapt high into the air, easily passing over the ropes, and replied, "Diffindo!"
The spell cut through the ropes without resistance, severing them from Malfoy's control. Harry had used a bit of wandless magic to aid his jump, propelling him between than five yards straight up, giving him ample time to actively retaliate before landing.
"Pyros!" he snapped, causing five foot high flickering red flames to erupt around Malfoy, completely encircling him within.
"Diminos!" countered Malfoy as the flaming circle began to slowly contract. The flames writhed as his spell reacted against them, diminishing their strength until they were reduced to only a couple of feet in height. With a triumphant grin Malfoy jumping clear and aimed another curse at Harry. "Expelliarmus!"
Apparently he was under the impression that Harry would be rendered more-or-less helpless against him without a wand. Thus he was slightly surprised when his Disarming Spell hit Harry's chest with about the same effect as a raindrop. Only a raindrop would have made him a little wet.
*I think maybe it's time to wrap this up, Harry.*
*Yes, we're just wasting time and energy with him.*
Harry levelled his wand at the Malfoy patriarch and smiled. "Razor Bindus!"
Malfoy barely had a chance to move before he was entangled in a cocoon of razor wire, the fine steel cords wrapped tightly around him from ankles to chest. Gasping in pain as the razors bit into him, Malfoy teetered unsteadily before falling over in a heap.
"From the look of things," observed Harry as he stepped past the collapsed Death Eater, making his way towards where Voldemort was standing and waiting, "I'd say he's not paying you enough."
***
Ron had to admit, this Situation Map of Harry's was a brilliant idea. But at the same time, it was incredibly frustrating and when next he saw his friend he had a dozen suggestions to make. It was amazingly easy to keep track of people and their movements with the map, but he had no clear idea of what was really happening above.
Ron was assuming, that when the attack had begun, that the various Patroni had attacked the Dementors and inflicted casualties. Unfortunately, all Ron had seen were the Dementors shifting about in confusion and sometimes the dot would blink out and disappear. He would have to talk to Harry and see if a Patronus could be displayed by the map as well.
"McGinnis, I can see three Dementors breaking off towards your section of the wall."
"I see them."
"Tighten it up, Sheila..."
Then there were the bracelet Portkeys everyone outside was wearing. A stroke of genius using these to allow them all to hear what everyone else was saying. Unfortunately, they could hear everything said all at the same time. Having over a hundred people talking simultaneously and sounding as if they were standing right next to you, was getting more than a little confusing.
"Carmen, Zabini, there's a pair of Acromantula trying to climb the wall about fifteen yards to your left." He swallowed nervously. He shuddered at the thought of one of those things getting inside the castle. "I don't know if spiders that big can climb a vertical wall, but I don't want to find out."
"Unfortunately they can, Weasley," replied Zabini in a curt voice. "They're already almost halfway up. Any ideas, Ryder?"
"Banishing Charm," suggested Carmen.
"This is Anderson, I need some help here."
And to top everything off, Ron had absolutely no idea how Harry had got from the top of the Astronomy Tower to the battlefield below it. He hadn't seen it happen, he had been busy assessing the effect their first attack had had on the Dementors, but he had a suspicion that Snape was behind it. After all, the Potions Master was the only other person up there.
Should I send someone to check?
Dumbledore, who was standing with his feet on the lake section of the map, spoke up. "Ronald, I believe that Harry might need some assistance shortly."
Ron turned to where Harry was advancing on the dot labelled Tom Riddle, noting as he did the half dozen or so Dementors that where heading towards him.
"Professor McGonagall, there's a bunch of Dementors trying to get to Harry. Can you keep them off his back? I think he's trying to have that chat with You-Know-Who he was talking about."
"We shall do our best, Mr Weasley."
"Don't worry, Ron," assured Hermione, who was not far from the professor, "we'll keep him safe."
He was anxiously waiting to see what would happen when Dumbledore rested a hand on his arm and turned him away. "I know he is your friend, but you cannot allow this to distract you. Harry is more than capable of taking care of himself. You must remain focused on directing those he has placed in your hands."
I know, but it's not easy.
Something caught his eye, not far from the Quidditch pitch. "Professor Lupin? Can you and Snuffles hear me?"
"We're here, Ron. What is it?"
"According to the map Wormtail is right by Hagrid's hut. You should be able to see him from where you are."
There was a pause, then, "Nothing. He must be in his Animagus form. There's no way we could spot a rat from this distance."
Something else for Harry to add when he gets back.
***
*You are completely and unashamedly out of your mind.*
What makes you say that?
*Um, let me think... it might have something to do with the fact that you are insane!*
*Harry, you're willfully walking into a fight with Voldemort.*
So?
*You might have the power of the Order at your disposal, but Voldemort is just on the short side of true immortality.*
And your point is?
*What happens when an irresistible force bangs heads with an immovable object?*
Nothing good I'll bet.
*Exactly. This is going to get dirty, Harry.*
*Very dirty.*
Just the way I like it. Now hush for a minute.
Harry drew to a halt at the foot of the small hillock Voldemort was standing upon, not more than thirty feet away. The two wizards stood frozen in place, like statues cast in bronze, their eyes locked in a silent battle. Fiery green met and challenged pulsing red.
A minute passed, two, three and yet neither one moved, save for an occasional stirring of their robes by the wind. The long minutes stretched between them, undisturbed and separated from the battle raging not far away. It was Harry that finally broke the deadlock and spoke up.
"Glad you stopped by, Tom," he said, "I've been wanting to talk with you."
"You like to flirt with death, Potter," replied Voldemort, his crimson eyes narrowing to fine slits at Harry's use of his given name. "It's time you learnt that death is looking for a more permanent relationship."
A frigid chill swept over Harry, but not from anything the Dark Lord had said or done. Harry glanced to the side and spotted a trio of Dementors bearing down on him, their hoods already thrown back to expose their eyeless faces.
His wand was levelled at them and the incantation uttered before Harry even had time to think about it. His three golden Patroni leapt out from the tip of his wand, tearing at the approaching Dementors with unholy glee. As first one, then the second and lastly the third Dementor exploded in black and blue fire, Harry felt the coldness begin to ebb and gradually faded away.
"An impressive show, Potter," sneered Voldemort, "but doubtless a draining effort for such a young and inexperienced boy such as yourself.
*Inexperienced? We are thoroughly insulted. Kick his scaly ass.*
*Better yet, toast his scaly ass and then kick it.*
"I think you will be unpleasantly surprised by how little effort that took," replied Harry through clenched teeth. His long repressed anger was starting to rise to the surface, causing the air about them was to swirl around with agitation.
Voldemort snorted disdainfully turned to one side, looking away from Harry to contemplate his minions as they lay siege to the castle walls. "I could kill you so very easily if I wished to."
Harry arched his eyebrows and retorted with all the sarcasm he could muster, "What? And not utterly humiliate or torture me first? Oh, that's not your style at all, Tom!"
"Stop calling me that!" he snarled, whirling back to face Harry, his thin lips drawn back and baring his small and sharp-looking teeth.
*Oooh, you hit a nerve...*
Of course I did. This battle is just as much about words as it is about magic.
*Don't get cocky though, making him angry will also make him stronger.*
It will also make him careless.
"I'll call you whatever the hell I like," declared Harry, using his wand to point at Voldemort. "You perpetuate people's fear of you by assuming a false name and title. Then, to further their fear even more, you cause them not to speak it. 'You-Know-Who'. You claim to be so great, the most powerful sorcerer in the world, and yet almost nobody knows who you really are!"
"They fear me for good reason, boy," Voldemort ground out.
Harry sneered and rolled his eyes. "They fear you, oh mighty Dark Lord, because they don't know who you are anymore. Unfortunately people tend to be afraid of what they don't know, or don't understand."
*Sad, but true more often than not.*
Voldemort drew his wand from the folds of his thick robes, clenching his hand tightly around the wooden shaft. "I begin to tire of your babbling, Potter. I did not come here today to listen to a mere boy make a mockery of me."
"Oh really?" Harry crossed his arms over his chest expectantly. "So what did you come here for?"
*The witty repartee?*
*No, you dolt! He already said he wasn't here for that.*
"I came here," Voldemort explained, his voice growing louder with each word, "so that all the pitiful fools who thought me gone shall discover that my reign of darkness and terror have not yet even begun!"
Harry dropped his hands to his sides and shook his head. "Terror?"
Voldemort glared at Harry and lowered his brow menacingly. "You too would do well to fear me, Potter. You have caused me a great many inconveniences over the years. For all those slights I shall ensure that your death will not be painless one."
*Fear is his most powerful tool. Do not let it control you.*
"I'm not afraid of you, Tom Riddle," replied Harry, standing proudly. "Never again."
"Very well then," Voldemort assumed a classic duelling stance, holding his wand up before him. "Let us match the powers of Lord Voldemort, heir of Salazar Slytherin, against the famous Harry Potter."
Harry held his wand lightly in his hand and assumed a similar position. "You said the exact same thing to me three years ago, inside the Chamber of Secrets." He bowed fractionally at Voldemort, but never let his eyes stray from his opponent. "I defeated your memory then, I shall do the same now."
Voldemort roared in fury and jabbed his wand towards Harry. "CRUCIO!"
Harry dropped sideways, the curse missing him by several feet as he rolled clear. He came up in a low crouch, his wand at the ready. "Naturam Expellas!!"
Thick green vines erupted from the ground beneath Voldemort, rising up and wrapping around him. Their thick coils had tightly bound his feet and legs before he could react to their presence as they continued to ensnare him. "Reducto!"
The vines were torn apart and Voldemort was free. "Serpensortia!"
A dozen large snakes, Harry recognised them as King Cobras, sprang forth and immediately began to wind their way towards Harry. He toyed with the idea of using his fluency in Parseltongue to control them, but as Voldemort could also speak the language that would likely end with the snakes continually being sent back and forth between them.
"Transit Aurum!" he cried as the cobras drew near and the snakes froze in place, gleaming the dull yellow of unpolished gold. He looked up and sent back a cute little curse that made the earth Voldemort was standing on turn liquid, like quicksand. The Dark Lord immediately dropped, sinking almost to his hips, before casting a quick levitation spell that lifted him up and back onto solid ground nearby.
At this point, looking at him, Harry knew that Voldemort was beginning to realize that Harry was no longer the easy target he had been in previous encounters. The Dark Lord scowled at him and decided to end the battle quickly, rather than pointlessly draw it out.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Harry, without even blinking, did something so completely and utterly stupid, that not even the usually loquacious members of the Order could think of anything to say. He defiantly stood his ground and let the Killing Curse strike him on the chest.
And as the world disappeared in a swirl of darkness, Harry heard Voldemort's high cackle as he loudly proclaimed his victory.
"Behold! Harry Potter! The Boy Who Lived - NO MORE!!"
TBC...