When Worlds Collide: The Plight of the One Ring - Chapter Two: The Hour of Reckoning

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except any characters I invent and the plot.

A/N: Here is my second chapter for this story. This is based during the Battle of Hogwarts in Deathly Hallows, but it won’t be the exact chain of events. I hope you enjoy, please read and review!

‘You have to!’77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK3Pf6NKVVo

‘I can’t do that!?’77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRuXYUyzziW

‘You have to! You must protect him! You promised!’77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5AHRamm49J

‘Narcissa…’77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYNiB20FpDG

Narcissa dropped to her knees, grief surging through her body and making her shudder. Noticing her pain, Snape knelt beside her with an uncommon tenderness. He gently wrapped his arms around her shoulders, his cloak rustling softly as he offered comfort. Narcissa leaned into his embrace and clung to him, seeking refuge from the brutality of the world. They remained there, concealed among the gnarled trunks and tangled roots of the Forbidden Forest, protected from the chaos and violence raging at Hogwarts.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDojBNdoH7w

‘Please,’ Narcissa begged, clutching Snape’s cloak tightly. She frantically gripped the fabric, her fingers digging in as if she could grasp him or the last remnants of hope. Her grip turned her knuckles white, bunching the soft cloth beneath her desperate hands. The cold night air stole her breath as she pressed her cheek to the coarse fabric, her eyes swimming with unspoken terror and pleading. Her trembling hands exposed her deep fear, and she leaned towards Snape as though he alone could shield her from the darkness. In that moment, she lost all composure, stripped down to raw panic and a desperate urge to protect her son.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTqxPpbgGrY

‘But you’ll…’ Snape interrupted himself, his voice faltering and his expression briefly darkened by an unspoken fear. A flicker of dread crossed his dark eyes. He raised his hand in protest but froze mid-movement, his fingers curling inward as the thought visibly caused him pain.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhSrqojzFGH

‘I know, but he will survive,’ Narcissa whispered, her voice fragile yet determined. She gently pulled away from Snape’s embrace and trembled as she softly touched his cheek. ‘Please do me this final favour, Severus,’ she begged, her voice shaking with emotion.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCPWgETkC7Y

Snape hesitated, clenching his fingers into trembling fists at his sides, his knuckles whitening as he weighed the consequences. The worn leaves beneath his boots pressed against him, almost urging him to act, but he remained rooted, compelled by Narcissa’s plea and the heavy weight of his own conscience. He drew in shallow breaths, vapour escaping into the cold air, while the scent of moss and earth filled his lungs and his heartbeat thundered in his ears.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ7nxbx3aLr

He realised, in that moment, that she had already made up her mind—he could not convince her otherwise. Narcissa’s tear-streaked face showed such determination that he knew any objection would be futile. With a heavy heart, he nodded. ‘Alright, stay here where it’s safe, I’ll be back,’ he said softly, his voice thick with emotion as he tried to soothe her amidst the chaos. He briefly placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, holding it for a moment as if to anchor her with what little hope remained.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeArqZNLB4v

He stood up, the fabric of his cloak softly brushing against tangled roots and damp leaves. He quickly turned away, fearing that his resolve might weaken, and pushed through the underbrush as brambles briefly snagged the hem of his robes. Darkness from the Forbidden Forest closed in around him, swallowing his figure as he ventured deeper into the shadows. With every step he took away from Narcissa, her anguished cries echoed in his mind, haunting him and merging with the distant thunder of battle and the whispering of ancient trees above. The image of her grief-stricken face seared itself behind his eyes, relentlessly reminding him of the fragile trust he had just accepted—and the dangerous task he now faced.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl3RbJykUyI

Draco Malfoy crouched by a small fire and poked at the flickering flames with a stick while distant explosions echoed through the trees. The sounds of war triggered memories of everything he had left behind. Although nerves and unease gripped him, Draco forced himself to hide deep within the Forbidden Forest, cutting himself off from everyone he knew. The thick underbrush closed in around him, its twisted branches clutching at the hem of his robes. Moonlight barely pierced the dense canopy overhead, casting shifting shadows and a faint silvery glow across his pale face. The cold night air made him shiver, so he pulled his cloak tighter and kept a wary eye on the shapes moving among the gnarled trunks. Each distant rumble of battle made his anxiety spike, and his heart hammered as he listened for footsteps or spells. Surrounded by towering trees, he felt the isolation build, intensifying his fears and forcing him to confront the harsh reality of his choices and the uncertain future for himself and those he cares about.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHVCB8UJCz9

Draco struggled with the disturbing reality of being alone, but he had little choice. With Voldemort and his father hunting him, he found himself thrust into harsh exile, the shadows whispering threats with every gust of wind. He had chosen to abandon his role as a Death Eater—a decision he once thought impossible—but now, it seemed like his only hope. The Mark on his arm weighed him down, serving as a constant reminder of the world he could never return to. By leaving that path, Draco drifted aimlessly, haunted by uncertainty and regret. He faced the consequences amid the chaos of war, with no hope for reconciliation. Uncertainty gnawed at him; every heartbeat echoed his anxiety as he strained to hear any sound that might signal a friend or a foe. He breathed in fear and longing with every breath, painfully aware of his solitude and unsure of what awaited him.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUtQqGSoRB0

Draco worried constantly about his mother, knowing that Lucius would kill her without hesitation if given the chance. That fear haunted him relentlessly, tightening his chest and making every breath feel constricted. On edge and unable to relax, he found no solace even by the flickering fire. Each small movement in the undergrowth or the crack of a twig heightened his vigilance, sending sweat trickling down his spine. Paranoia sharpened his senses; the faint hoot of an owl or a distant spell crack sent his heart racing wildly. When rustling sounded nearby, panic surged through him—he sprang to his feet, gripping his wand tightly and scanning the darkness for the source. Shadows between the trees rippled and shuddered while Draco’s breath trembled, torn between hope and fear of what or who might be coming.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx6ktd3xW2t

Draco gripped his wand tightly as a figure stepped out of the darkness, his heart pounding. The moon’s pale, flickering light threw strange shadows over the tangled bushes, creating an eerie silhouette around the stranger. Draco clenched his hand so firmly that his knuckles turned white against the smooth wood of his wand, poised to face any threat that might come in the night. When he recognised Snape’s sharp profile, a wave of relief swept over him. The Professor’s dark robes blended perfectly with the shadows, and for a moment, Draco nearly collapsed under the combined rush of fear and hope.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW9Bky5BrHc

‘Bloody hell, you scared me half to death!’ Draco exclaimed, his voice tense and slightly hoarse after hours of quiet waiting. The words tumbled out naturally, echoing through the still woods, and showed just how close he had come to panic. Draco’s hands quivered as he tucked his wand back into his pocket, his movement unsteady from the rush of adrenaline. He looked past Snape’s tall figure, his eyes darting nervously between the twisted trees and shifting shadows, desperately searching for even the faintest sign of his mother’s pale form.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgDb6UnhbLy

Draco’s anxiety etched deep lines across his face; he tensed his brow and pressed his lips together. His haunted eyes clearly revealed his constant fear for his mother, each imagined scenario growing more terrifying than the last. When he finally spoke, his voice shook with barely contained desperation, ‘Where’s mother?’ He tried to maintain calm, but the tremor in his voice betrayed the effort it took to conceal his concern, his composure stretched to its limit by the terror of the Forbidden Forest.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡynQe26ZQJi

Snape approached Draco and said steadily, ‘She’s safe, for now.’ He kept his tone calm but abrupt, his eyes flashing with unspoken worry. He maintained an impassive face and offered certainty with his words, though he gave no further comfort. Without hesitation, he reached into his robes and drew a small, shiny knife. The blade caught the dim moonlight, gleaming as he moved with deliberate, controlled precision. He revealed none of his internal turmoil. The silver edge flashed briefly in the firelight as Snape’s long, pale fingers gripped the hilt.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrNdXEKEPFI

Draco’s eyes widened in alarm, and he instinctively pulled back, his breath catching. ‘Whoa, wait a minute—’ he started, his voice rising in panic. But Snape acted swiftly and precisely. He gripped Draco’s head with his long, pale fingers, holding him in a firm, unyielding grasp. Draco barely had time to flinch before Snape pressed the cold steel against his scalp.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbuhJTSmAjd

‘There’s no time,’ Snape said urgently, his voice sharp as he moved quickly. He flicked his wrist and uncorked a small glass flask, releasing a strong, pungent scent from the potion inside into the cold night air. Without delay, he sprinkled the freshly cut strands of Draco’s hair into the swirling, thick liquid. The potion fizzed and shimmered, reflecting iridescent colours under the moonlight. Snape kept his hands steady and determined, concealing the tension on his face as he submerged every hair. The mixture released a faint, acrid steam that curled upward, briefly illuminating Snape’s sharp features before he efficiently recorked the flask and tucked it back into his robes.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCf1ZEGwzSy

Shock hit Draco, and he staggered back, anger surging through him as his heart raced. He nervously ran his trembling fingers through his freshly cut hair, disbelief and outrage flickering across his pale face. ‘My hair! What the hell, Snape!?’ he shouted, his voice trembling with indignation and confusion. Draco fixed his wide, adrenaline-glazed eyes on the small glass flask in Snape’s hand. ‘Is that Polyjuice Potion? What do you intend to do with it?’ Draco asked, alarmed and eager for answers.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTcVVI8mTgF

Worry lines deepened around Snape’s eyes as he approached Draco, his face tightening. He conveyed urgency in his expression, setting his jaw in a determined manner. He said firmly, his voice calm yet resolute, ‘I can’t explain right now.’ He placed a reassuring hand on Draco’s shoulder, and his long fingers provided unexpected warmth that grounded Draco amid the cold uncertainty. This gesture offered a strangely comforting, rare sign of care from the normally inscrutable Professor. ‘You’ll be safe. Stay here and put out that fire. We don’t want the Dark Lord to find you,’ he instructed, his tone authoritative and unyielding. Snape turned to leave, and he cast one last fleeting glance back at Draco.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYT7Ez0poLj

Draco remained shaken from the encounter and eyed Snape with suspicion and unease. He swallowed hard and summoned the courage to speak to Snape, his voice trembling despite his effort to sound steady. ‘Wait, why would the Dark Lord come here?’ he whispered, darting nervous glances among the swaying trees. Dread pressed heavily on his chest as he tried to picture what might lure Voldemort into the heart of the Forbidden Forest during such chaos.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡccEl6eiu7N

Snape shook his head and said in a low, serious tone, ‘He believes Potter will sacrifice himself to save his friends, so he will likely meet him in the Forbidden Forest.’ He cast a nervous glance over his shoulder without another word, his eyes scanning the darkness as though he expected trouble to emerge at any moment. ‘I need to return before he notices I’m gone,’ he whispered, tense and urgent, making the seriousness of the situation clear. Snape turned, his black robes fluttering behind him and rustling through the tangled undergrowth. He did not wait for a response; he walked away quickly, his boots softly crunching as they pressed the leaf-covered forest floor beneath him.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3LkNc7Qsz2

Draco forced himself to swallow, grappling with the news about Potter. The idea that Saint Potter would risk himself for his friends sparked both resentment and admiration in Draco. He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, and fixed his gaze on the darkness between the trees, weighed down by this new realisation. Potter’s bravery threw their choices into sharp contrast, making Draco uneasy and uncertain about his own decisions. His breath came in ragged bursts, the cold air stinging his lungs as he struggled to steady the tumult of emotions within him. Bitter envy stabbed at his conscience—Potter’s courage stood in stark opposition to his own paralysing fear, and Draco felt the pain of his helplessness twist inside him.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPo9WsWgE1j

Draco shivered, not just from the cold but because the heavy burden of expectation and responsibility clung to his skin like damp mist. Each sound—the crackling fire, a twig snapping in the distance—made him flinch, as fear grew that Potter’s sacrifice would soon shatter the fragile safety he relied on. In the darkness and uncertainty, Draco’s resolve flickered; the vastness of the world overwhelmed him, and he faced choices that seemed both limited and dangerous.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIOc3DOxzyE

Maybe I can do the same…77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrGvUAoTstM

Snape pushed through the dense underbrush of the Forbidden Forest, snapping twigs underfoot and breaking the silence with each step. The forest’s unyielding grip made every step a struggle, but Snape pressed on, jaw clenched in determination and urgency. Finally, his heart pounding, he reached the small clearing where Narcissa waited anxiously in the shadows.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwIXyscUAlK

Snape paused, then handed her the flask filled with Polyjuice Potion, cloudy and swirling with strands of Draco’s pale hair. Narcissa accepted it with trembling hands, her knuckles almost as white as her worried face. She drew a deep, shaky breath and lifted the flask to her lips. She shivered at the first bitter sip but pressed on, her determination clear as she forced herself to drink.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8legy7lOYu

Narcissa’s features rippled and changed; her elegant cheekbones softened, her hair shortened and darkened until it matched Draco’s pale blond. Her jawline narrowed, and her stature shrank as her frame took on Draco’s familiar angularity. The transformation soon finished, and Narcissa’s eyes—now Draco’s steely blue—looked silently at Snape. He found himself standing face-to-face with a perfect double of Draco—an eerie, familiar, yet unsettling resemblance under the cold moonlight.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFdbGqRhVHp

Snape slowly exhaled, relief softening his stern expression. The tension that had gripped his face for so long finally loosened, if only momentarily, as he took the empty flask from Narcissa. He carefully turned the flask with practised fingers, ensuring not a single drop remained. Then he discreetly slipped it into an inner pocket of his cloak. Every movement was precise and almost ritualistic—he left no trace or evidence of the exchange, no glint of glass or hint of potion visible beneath his dark fabric. Throughout, he kept his eyes darting warily around the shadowed clearing, alert for any sign of danger. Only after he completed the task did he relax his posture slightly, once again adopting the composed appearance he so desperately needed to maintain.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAXKbt5YqZk

‘How long?’ Narcissa asked, though Draco’s voice echoed from her lips. She spoke with anxious urgency, her words carrying a tone so strikingly like her son’s that Snape’s heart lurched. Her new voice—sharp, youthful, and trembling with Draco’s familiar nervousness—rang through the clearing, exposing her deep unease. The transformation had been so complete that, for a fleeting moment, Snape almost believed Draco himself stood before him; the cadence, pitch, and hesitant vulnerability perfectly matched the young Malfoy. Yet, behind that voice, Narcissa’s eyes, bright with maternal fear, darted between Snape and the shadows, as she awaited his answer, her shoulders taut with anxiety and determination.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1iaqyWtken

Snape said softly, ‘An hour at most,’ as he placed a hand on her shoulder. He kept his touch gentle but firm, though his long fingers trembled slightly against Narcissa’s—now Draco’s—slim frame. He pleaded, ‘You don’t have to do this… there must be another way,’ while his eyes darted anxiously between Narcissa’s worried face and the shadows creeping at the clearing’s edge. Snape frantically searched for an escape from the grim path ahead, the heavy burden of responsibility pressing on him, and let his hopeful yet despairing words drift on the cold night breeze in a desperate attempt to find any solution that could avert the looming danger.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAW9qGpS8nw

‘It is the only way…’77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtlaL8SyVx0

Narcissa’s words brought Dumbledore’s voice echoing into Snape’s mind as he closed his eyes. Sorrowful eyes fixed on him, silently pleading for reassurance and hope amid despair. ‘You have been a good, loyal friend, Severus. You understand what you need to do. Dumbledore trusted you to do whatever was necessary to ensure his plan’s success,’ Narcissa said, her voice trembling yet steady. As she spoke, she gently cupped his cheek—a soft but desperate contact, her cold fingertips pressing against his pallid skin. 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡINLpWpDk9l

‘You will not fail,’ she assured him firmly, her words brimming with fierce conviction even as tears welled in her steely blue eyes. Narcissa stepped into his embrace, trembling yet resolute, and hugged Snape tightly, trying to steady herself against the mounting fear and uncertainty. Narcissa’s quiet, raw sobs broke the silence as she let tears stream down her face, tracing shining paths along Draco’s borrowed features. She buried her face in Snape’s shoulder, seeking comfort in his steadiness. She whispered, ‘Protect him for me,’ her voice muffled by his cloak’s fabric.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRhtHVXzrDI

‘I will,’ Snape vowed, his voice a rough whisper, raw with unseen pain as tears burned behind his closed eyes. The night’s chill grew sharper, the shadows deepened, but Snape reopened his eyes, haunted yet resolute, prepared to fulfil the promise that bound him, whatever the cost.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9bmbdxvswV

Voldemort’s voice rang out around them, its chilling clarity slicing through the air and sending shivers down their spines. The sound came from everywhere and nowhere at once, reverberating through the trees and curling through the misty darkness of the forest. The night itself seemed to carry his voice, amplifying every word until each struck their hearts with terrible finality. ‘You have fought valiantly… but in vain,’ Voldemort declared, his tone cold and eerily calm—devoid of triumph or anger, yet filled with a cruel certainty that allowed no argument. ‘I do not wish this. Every drop of magic blood spilt is a terrible waste. I, therefore, command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured,’ Voldemort instructed, his words lingering like a pall, the supposed mercy more menacing than a direct threat. The leaves above quivered as his voice faded, and for a brief, empty moment, the battlefield stood still, suspended between destruction and a fragile pause.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzb7heRHNNT

Snape grimaced as anxiety overwhelmed him; he compressed his lips and clenched his jaw so tightly that the prominent muscles stood out beneath his pale skin. Voldemort’s words relentlessly echoed in Snape’s mind, pounding like a drumbeat of fear and doubt. Instinctively, he wondered what new scheme the Dark Lord plotted. Snape believed that this so-called withdrawal served as a ruse—a clever act hiding darker motives yet to come. Well aware of Voldemort’s reputation for cruelty and ruthlessness, Snape’s instincts warned him that danger still lurked in the shadows.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3fTqrfw1DC

Snape quickly weighed up possible outcomes, fears and calculations flickering in his eyes as he tried to decipher Voldemort’s complex intentions. He knew Voldemort intended to extend his ambitions beyond Hogwarts, ultimately seeking total domination and destruction of the Muggle world—a vision so terrifying that even Snape, accustomed to the Dark Lord’s grand threats, found it chilling. He imagined cities succumbing to dark magic, families hiding from an invisible terror that spread across the land, and the magical world teetering on the brink of collapse because of such evil. Yet, Snape could not pinpoint Voldemort’s exact plan; the details remained hidden and misleading, leaving him with nothing but shadows and vague suppositions. The scale of the endeavour seemed almost unimaginable—requiring enormous manpower, vast magical resources, and braving inevitable resistance, which made it difficult to believe anyone could truly control the entire world. Nevertheless, Snape recognised Voldemort’s relentless resolve; Voldemort’s cruelty, cunning, and readiness to sacrifice anything made him more dangerous than anyone else. Snape’s heart raced as he fluctuated between disbelief and fear, bracing himself for whatever horrors awaited.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡczDoRhBFfL

Snape forced himself to banish his thoughts as Voldemort’s voice cut through the night once more, swirling like a dangerous wind and echoing in every shadow: ‘Harry Potter, I speak now directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonour. I ask you to join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. Should you do so, I give my word that no other life will be lost on this night. You have one hour. If at the end of that time, you have not given yourself up, then I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who tries to conceal you from me.’ Voldemort’s voice, cold and deliberate, vibrated with power as it echoed off ancient trunks and rippled through the night, making the forest itself recoil in fear. Instead of simply summoning, the message delivered a sentence meant to break Harry’s spirit and haunt all who listened. The promise—no more deaths if Harry surrendered—offered cruelty rather than mercy, with the threat of further suffering woven into every word.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWTVLtLipuw

Narcissa exhaled with difficulty, her resolve wavering as she looked at Snape. The breath she let out jittered in the cold night air, forming a mist before her lips. Her usually steady hands shook at her sides. ‘It’s time,’ she whispered, her voice barely audible with fear and reluctant bravery.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMKVjIRjUHT

Snape met Narcissa’s gaze with deep regret, sorrow clouding his dark eyes. ‘Yes, it is,’ he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached for her trembling hands, his touch unexpectedly warm and comforting. He gently enclosed her slender fingers in his, offering a brief moment of solace as they both braced for what lay ahead. ‘I’m truly sorry,’ he murmured sincerely, exposing a rare vulnerability beneath his usually stern exterior.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf3gXtdHeVy

Snape braced himself, briefly closing his eyes and taking a trembling breath that made his chest rise and fall as he struggled to contain his inner turmoil. Heavy-hearted, Snape released her hands and deliberately raised his wand. Regret flickered across his face as he hesitated, then he looked at her with an apologetic expression. ‘Incarcerous!’ he called out, his voice resonating in the quiet.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWvG5HGZ0uL

Snape conjured magical ropes from the tip of his wand, sending thick, twisting cords weaving swiftly through the darkness to coil tightly around Narcissa. The cords bound her arms and secured her so firmly that she couldn’t break free. Narcissa gasped at the sudden restraint, her eyes wide with shock and fear, but she chose not to protest—placing her trust in Snape’s judgement even as her freedom vanished.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCOW57vAWjw

Narcissa gave a gentle, reassuring smile; her lips trembled with effort, but her eyes shone with quiet resolve. ‘Don’t be,’ she whispered, her voice soft yet steady. Trusting him fully, she let Snape lead her through the forest.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5b7Lmw79ee

Voldemort’s demand overwhelmed Harry’s thoughts, the gravity of his ultimatum pressing fate down upon him. He leaned against the cold stone wall, feeling the chill seep through his robes and shivering. The shifting torchlight cast moving shadows across his pale face, highlighting his exhaustion and anxiety. Voldemort’s threat echoed relentlessly in his mind, each beat of his heart tightening the dark melody around it. 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq503dCg5pF

Hermione and Ron stood by him, their faces tense with concern and helplessness, eyes wide and glistening in the dim light as they searched for words of comfort. Hermione twisted the hem of her sleeve nervously, her furrowed brow betraying her struggle to contain her fear. Ron shifted anxiously, clenching his jaw and balling his fists at his sides.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc8BdDW50FF

One hour.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL3jBEs6Zq9

Harry drew a deep breath; determination etched on his face. Instead of their usual bright mischief, his eyes reflected unwavering resolve and profound sadness. ‘I have to go. I can’t ignore him,’ he said firmly after a short pause, his voice steady and confident. Without waiting for a reply, he turned away from Hermione and Ron—his stride purposeful. His footsteps rang sharply on the cold stone floor, echoing through the silent halls as he strode towards the marble staircase. The ancient walls of Hogwarts stood as silent witnesses to his sacrifice, washed in ghostly moonlight from high windows.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡO3QcmdSLVj

Hermione shouted, ‘What? No, Harry!’ Her voice trembled with fear and desperation as she watched him walk away. She clenched her shaking hands at her sides, her calm features twisting in panic. Without hesitation, she exchanged a quick look with Ron—an unspoken understanding passing between them that they had to act quickly. Ron clenched his jaw as worry hardened into resolve, while Hermione’s breathing grew rapid and urgent. They raced after Harry, determined not to let him face Voldemort alone. Their footsteps pounded through the silent corridor, echoing off the ancient stone walls.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbgFsjhjlKD

Ron firmly grasped Harry’s shoulder, his fingers digging in with desperate urgency as a worried crease shadowed his brow. ‘Are you barmy, mate?’ he asked, his voice trembling with disbelief and concern as he tried to make sense of Harry’s choice. He tightened his grip, his knuckles turning white with worry, silently begging Harry to reconsider. Ron’s wide-eyed, searching gaze swept over Harry’s face, looking for any sign of doubt or hesitation, hoping his friend might turn away from this risky route.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1PpUIEfVcQ

Harry fixed his intense gaze on Ron and clasped his shoulders, brushing aside his friend’s worry. ‘I can’t let him hurt anyone else,’ he declared with firm resolve, his voice calm despite his inner turmoil. The threat from Voldemort weighed heavily on him, each moment serving as a bitter reminder of loved ones and the sacrifices they had made. Harry exhaled slowly and stiffened, bracing himself against an unseen force. 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaYY1NLn2Fr

Harry refused to let his loved ones keep suffering because of him—memories of friends lost and wounded surged through his mind, strengthening his resolve. ‘I have to end this now,’ he declared, his voice firm and unwavering. His eyes, usually brimming with youthful energy, now burned with a mature intensity forged by their long struggle—steadfast and resolute. He gave Ron a final, reassuring squeeze on the shoulder—a silent sign of hope—then gently but determinedly stepped past his friend toward the doors, carrying with him a sense of purpose with every stride.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOcBbUEik6I

Professor McGonagall entered, solemnly carrying a large stretcher on which Lupin and Tonks lay side by side. Their intertwined, bloodstained fingers powerfully symbolised their strong bond, persisting even in death. The stark contrast of their pale faces against the dark stains of battle struck Harry with almost overwhelming force. Lupin gently inclined his head towards Tonks, a strand of greying hair falling across his forehead, while Tonks’s hair—though dulled by battle, still faintly pink—fanned out over the stretcher, quietly evoking the joy and mischief she always brought to any room. 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjRb6R1pLWY

Their bodies lay calm and undisturbed amid the chaos, showing that they had fought battles side by side and shared a love that even death could not break. Tears blurred Harry’s vision, and intense grief tightened his chest until he could barely breathe. He watched as McGonagall’s usually steady composure wavered; she pressed her lips together and her hands shook slightly while she carefully set down the stretcher. Silence deepened throughout the Hall, and those near the fallen couple bowed their heads quietly to pay their respects. Harry struggled to hold back his tears, but seeing Lupin and Tonks united forever in both life and death overwhelmed him, and grief poured forth.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5mEGD5Znk6

He tried to move forward, determined to honour their memory, but a piercing, anguished cry from the Great Hall stopped him abruptly. The sound, raw and primal, echoed off the ancient stonework, cutting through the heavy silence and deeply affecting everyone nearby. Ron immediately furrowed his brow in recognition; he could not mistake his mother’s voice, filled with such pain that it seemed to shake the castle itself. The cry conjured vivid images of heartbreak and devastation as Mrs Weasley’s lament soared above the murmurs of other mourners, flooding the hall with overwhelming sadness. Ron, without a second thought, hurried towards the source, his steps urgent with dread, while Hermione followed closely behind, her face pale and strained, gripping her wand for comfort. 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBCoqnRh9ne

Grief weighed heavily on Harry as he slowly moved towards the doorway, as though invisible chains held him back. As he drew nearer, the sheer enormity of what lay ahead—the fallen loved ones, grieving families, and the harsh reality of death—rose before him like an insurmountable wall. Sorrow and fear paralysed him, and he could not bring himself to cross into the hall; his heart pounded as waves of loss and heartbreak crashed over him, threatening to consume him entirely.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmm6h3nAbgS

Harry stood in the doorway and gazed over the Great Hall. The once lively and busy room now appeared almost unrecognisable, a respectful, heavy silence filling the space. Neat rows of bodies rested quietly in the centre of the chamber, each one covered with a cloak or blanket, their outlines stark against the cold stone floor. The golden banners of the four Hogwarts houses hung limp from the ceiling, their colours faded in the subdued torchlight, symbolising all that had been lost.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGzppJeHK4D

Mourners filled the hall with muffled cries and trembling sobs, breaking the silence. Grief weighed heavily on everyone, subduing every breath and movement with sorrow. Families drew together, supporting their loved ones, while friends offered silent comfort, their reddened eyes revealing their tears. Every figure, respectfully dressed, reminded all present of the toll of war—each pale, peaceful face in repose, with hands folded or intertwined with those who had fallen.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBlvy6kq6WH

Harry’s heart sank as he recognised familiar faces among the fallen—he spotted Colin Creevey, his spiky hair poking out from a Gryffindor scarf, and saw Tonks and Lupin lying side by side, still holding hands. Feelings of loss and a bittersweet pride in their sacrifice echoed through the Great Hall. Grief struck Harry with overwhelming intensity, weighing heavily on his chest as he silently acknowledged the ultimate cost paid in the battle against Voldemort.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDujPeeikMO

A heartbreaking cry shattered the heavy silence and immediately drew Harry’s attention to George. Harry saw George kneel beside a familiar body, trembling with uncontrollable sobs, his shoulders shaking as tears streamed down his freckled face. George clung to his Fred Weasley’s robes, gripping them tightly as if he would not let go, his head bowed low and his red hair falling over his face in a futile attempt to hide his grief. Ron’s face twisted in sorrow as he hurried to George, knelt beside him, and gently wrapped his arm around his brother’s hunched shoulders to pull him into a comforting hug. George leaned into Ron, his body shaking with grief, and the brothers shared their sorrow.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq4lCGauJ1U

Hermione crossed the hall and approached Ginny, who curled up, shoulders trembling from silent tears. She gently wrapped her arms around Ginny and held her close while she cried into her shoulder, muffling her sobs against Hermione’s robes. Hermione stroked Ginny’s hair and whispered calming words, barely audible through her own trembling lips, as she offered what comfort she could amid the overwhelming heartbreak.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFJSeSySBmM

Harry’s chest clenched as he shouldered the weight of loss, the harsh reality of war’s devastation made painfully evident by the sight of Fred lying motionless while his family mourned. Sorrow pressed in on everyone in the hall, almost becoming a tangible force, as the Weasleys’ clung together, united by their grief.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzd1wbF2E2O

Overwhelmed by emotion, Harry abruptly backed away and ran, not once glancing behind him as he fled the grief-stricken scene in the Great Hall. He gasped for breath in ragged, uneven bursts while he hurried past mourners whose tear-stained, sorrowful faces blurred before him. Haunting cries and choked sobs echoed in his wake, their sounds fading as he burst through the tall oak doors and into the night. The evening air struck him with a sudden chill, prickling his skin and sending shivers through him. Bending over with his hands on his knees, Harry struggled to catch his breath, desperate to drown out the ache gripping his heart. Above him, cold stars glittered in the vast sky, indifferent to the tragedy below, and the looming castle behind echoed with memories and sorrow. For a brief moment, Harry stood there, feeling insignificant and utterly alone, lost among the ruins of everything for which he had fought, with loss closing in on every side.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaCOA9n3gdr

Harry moved to approach the Hogwarts grounds when a sharp, desperate shout stopped him. Ron and Hermione, exhausted from their frantic chase, caught up to him and gasped for breath. Their pale faces, streaked with sweat and tears, showed their exhaustion clearly, and dust from the chaos inside the castle muddied their clothes. Worry and fear shaded their features; their wide, pleading eyes made it clear that they refused to let Harry face danger alone. Ron clenched his fists and blocked Harry’s way, his jaw set in stubborn resolve as he stood protectively in front of him. ‘Don’t do this!’ Ron pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion as he stepped forward to stop Harry, clearly desperate.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7SxjlPT6IB

Harry insisted urgently, shaking his head, ‘You must destroy the Horcruxes first. Only then can he be killed.’ A faint, bitter smile flickered across Harry’s expression, though it didn’t reach his eyes and remained shadowed by grim acceptance. ‘It’s ironic, really. I’ve realised why I’m connected to him. I can feel it… him,’ he whispered almost inaudibly. He unconsciously moved his fingers to his chest, as if an unseen thread pulled them there. Harry now understood the link between himself and Voldemort—once confusing, painful, and full of nightmares—with newfound clarity. He sensed the lurking darkness, the cold, snake-like presence that always hovered at the edge of his mind. For years, this connection had cursed him—an unhealable wound—but he now recognised its clear purpose: fate and magic bound him to Voldemort, making him both the key and the lock. 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtl6peTwje5

Hermione met Harry’s eyes, which shone with a tender honesty that instantly made him seem much younger. He spoke with a quiet vulnerability, softly admitting, ‘I think I knew, deep down.’ His voice trembled, barely more than a whisper, as if he feared that speaking the truth might make it more real. Hermione held his gaze, and he gently added, ‘I think you’ve known for a while, too.’ 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrWOtY8oMGK

Hermione’s brow creased and her lips parted in silent acknowledgement as tears glistened in her eyes, absorbing the truth and showing sorrow, understanding, and reluctant acceptance. She exclaimed, ‘We’ll go with you!’ Emotion thickened her voice as tears streamed down her face, leaving shining tracks on her cheeks. She reached desperately for Harry, her hand trembling while she tried to close the distance between them, fingers spread wide in her urgent need to comfort and support him. Her words caught in her throat, ‘I’ll…’ and she faltered, overwhelmed by a tidal wave of grief. She struggled to compose herself, her shoulders shaking as silent sobs wracked her body. Her posture exposed heartbreak and unwavering loyalty, torn between the instinct to stand by Harry and the crushing weight of fear and sorrow.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1owNX75s3d

Harry wiped away the tears from Hermione’s cheeks with a trembling hand. He paused for a moment, offering silent comfort before meeting her gaze, his own eyes shining with resolve. With calm, unwavering authority, he said, ‘Destroy Hufflepuff’s Cup, Ravenclaw’s Diadem, and kill that damn snake,’ each word landing like a solemn vow in the dim torchlight. ‘Once that’s done, it’ll just be him, and I won’t be needed anymore. It will all be over.’ 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFiablfc815

Harry squared his shoulders and drew strength from the determined expressions of his friends. He turned away from Ron and Hermione, kept his back straight while the flickering light illuminated his silhouette, and inhaled deeply, feeling hope and fear mingle in his chest. He began to walk away, leaving them behind to face what awaited him, alone but uplifted by their love and loyalty with every hesitant step.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYqetgdOh0S

Ron and Hermione watched Harry walk away in silence, fear and despair chaining them to the spot. Ron clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his jaw trembling as he struggled to contain his emotions. Hermione hunched over and shook, pressing her hand to her mouth with tears filling her eyes. They gripped fear, grief, and helplessness, which drained their strength. Unable to call out or move, they helplessly watched Harry’s familiar yet distant figure grow smaller with every step until he vanished into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. The weight of what he faced—and what they had just allowed—loomed over them, leaving them to endure a silent, shared agony, grasped by sorrow.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1etekxJZf5

Ron spoke in a trembling voice, ‘The Basilisk Fangs.’ Hermione instantly lifted her head, her eyes widening with realisation. In that moment, they both grasped the significance of the discovery—they finally possessed the means to destroy the Horcruxes. This understanding reignited Hermione’s sense of urgency; she drew a sharp breath as she looked at him. Ron gripped Hermione’s arm tightly, and his face shone with conviction as he said, ‘That’s the key to destroying the Horcruxes,’ his tone growing more confident. They locked eyes, fully understanding each other in that brief instant—years of friendship and peril condensed into this crucial realisation. Ron, speaking rapidly, pressed, ‘Come on, we don’t have much time!’ He tightened his grip for a moment before releasing her and heading towards the castle with Hermione at his side.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXADQauaMj0

They sprinted down the cold stone floors, their footsteps echoing as they dashed through the dim corridors—dust and debris from the recent chaos scattering beneath their racing feet. The castle’s dark shadows seemed to withdraw in the face of their explicit purpose. Determination etched on their faces, they navigated the maze of hallways, their hearts pounding and minds locked on their goal: reaching the Chamber of Secrets to retrieve the deadly fangs. Each swift stride reflected their understanding that everything they cherished depended on their speed and courage.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxbgKRwqwVE

Harry approached the forest’s edge, feeling like a condemned man about to face his execution. He paused and stared into the darkness, bracing himself as Dementors floated silently among the trees, filling him with dread. As he stepped into the shadows, he felt as though he was entering the jaws of an ancient beast. Twisted branches stretched overhead, reaching into the night sky and casting jagged shadows on the moss-covered ground. The Dementors’ cold, unnatural chill seeped into his bones, draining away warmth and hope and causing his breath to become shallow and tremble. Fog curled around his ankles, swirling in the ghostly light cast by the distant, flickering castle torches, as if the darkness itself sought to swallow him. The oppressive silence broke only when Harry breathed raggedly and leaves rustled, moved by unseen horrors. At that moment, he realised the enormous challenge ahead—he faced an overwhelming mix of fear, destiny, and a flickering courage, like dying embers in the night behind him.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6mAdexJRzz

Harry drew a deep breath and advanced towards the forest, but something caused him to stop. He instinctively slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the Golden Snitch. To his surprise, it fluttered gently in his hand and cast a soft glow—a light that seemed to push the darkness away. Harry frowned, turning the Snitch over to study the mysterious words engraved on it—words he had pondered countless times since Dumbledore gave it to him: “I open at the close.” The phrase shimmered in the faint light, its meaning still just out of reach, the writing curling elegantly over the fragile shell. For a moment, Harry found himself mesmerised by the object’s subtle warmth and the hope it radiated, standing in stark contrast to the cold uncertainty of what lay ahead.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdf53ta9xOm

Still confused, Harry softly murmured the phrase, furrowing his brow in concentration. His voice trembled slightly, and the words, barely more than a whisper, faded into the heavy silence around him. With his heart racing, he brought the cool, golden Snitch to his lips and felt the intricate inscription beneath his fingers. A shiver ran down his spine as he pressed a cautious kiss to the metal, hope and fear swirling within him, eager for this simple act to finally unveil the Snitch’s long-held secret.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJOTOC0uYob

After a tense moment, Harry’s hand quivered as he lowered it, keeping his eyes fixed on the object. Gradually, almost hesitantly, the shell of the Golden Snitch opened along nearly invisible seams, unfolding like the petals of a rare flower. A gentle click broke the silence as the gold casing revealed a small, mysterious stone nestled inside. The stone’s surface felt smooth, yet a jagged crack ran down its centre—a fissure pulsing with ancient energy. This crack precisely mirrored the distinctive line of the Elder Wand, linking both objects by fate. Harry gripped the stone between his thumb and forefinger, marvelling at the subtle weight and the cold it seemed to emit, as though it had drawn in centuries of hope and sorrow. When he looked more closely, he noticed faint carvings etched into the dark surface—a triangle enclosing a circle, split by a straight line. These symbols, delicate and almost spectral, clearly signified the Cloak of Invisibility and the Resurrection Stone, the other two legendary Deathly Hallows.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1dOORzQnn8

Harry examined the stone in his hand, his mind whirling with disbelief. As his trembling fingers traced the cracked line and the ancient emblem, he gradually came to understand its true importance. He felt as though he held all of wizarding history in his palm. He gazed in awe for a moment, overwhelmed by the significance of this artefact of myth and memory, unexpectedly finding it precisely when he needed it most. Harry traced the jagged crack across the stone in his hand. The stone radiated an unnatural coldness, yet it pulsed softly against his skin, alive with ancient memories beyond understanding. ‘So, it was in there all along,’ he whispered, his breath fogging in the cold air as realisation dawned on him. The Resurrection Stone—concealed in plain sight, waiting for this moment—now felt incredibly precious and hefty, as though history itself had chosen Harry to carry it.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4KOyo46D6G

Harry tightened his hold on the stone, running his fingers along its smooth surface and feeling the crack beneath his touch. The tangible sensation steadied him amid the chaos and fear raging within. Although cold invaded his hand, he kept his grip, determined not to let go, fully aware of the stone’s meaning, the hope it carried, and the looming sense of finality. As he turned the stone slowly, he allowed a gentle, bittersweet smile to appear. Thoughts of Dumbledore filled his mind—the headmaster’s enigmatic guidance, his steady blue eyes brimming with understanding and sadness, and the subtle encouragements that had steered Harry towards decisions he had only begun to comprehend at the time. ‘You really did think of everything, Professor,’ Harry whispered, his voice trembling with gratitude and awe. At that moment, he felt Dumbledore’s presence linger at the edge of the shadows, silently reassuring him as it wove through the night’s fabric. Harry straightened, acknowledging the late headmaster’s careful planning, the trust Dumbledore had given him, and the sacrifices that led him to this crucial moment. The Resurrection Stone shimmered softly, symbolising loss and hope—Harry now held its magic and mystery, entrusted to him as the one person able to use it for the greater good.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWZRsRmvZtR

Harry drew a deep breath and focused on his next move, his resolve growing stronger as the enormity of his task and the burdens he carried fuelled him. He paused and gazed at Hogwarts one last time—its ancient silhouette cut sharply against the indigo sky, turrets and battlements outlined by the faint glow from far-off torches. Warm, golden lights shone in a few windows, serving as beacons of hope and home, standing in stark contrast to the cold darkness of the Forbidden Forest. For a brief, painful moment, memories overtook him—the laughter that echoed through the corridors, friendship by the common room fire, and the sense of safety and belonging within those stone walls. Each memory struck him with bittersweet clarity, reminding him of what he fought to protect and what he risked losing. He wiped away his tears, squared his shoulders, and set his jaw with determination. The Resurrection Stone pressed coldly into his palm, and the memory of those who believed in him kept his heart steady. Casting a final look at the castle—his sanctuary and the symbol of all that was good—Harry turned from its reassuring presence and strode into the trees.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxuCOODOU76

Dozens of Dementors glided silently through the smoke-filled air, drifting as ghostly shapes among the shadows. Their movements made their tattered cloaks flutter, trailing darkness that mingled with the acrid smoke rising from the scorched landscape. Crackling embers sounded, and burnt wood filled the air with its smell, creating an eerie, apocalyptic atmosphere. Although the deep hoods kept their hollow faces hidden, Harry sensed their hunger—an overwhelming desire that chilled him to the core. The Dementors overlooked Harry, passing by as if he were just another shadow in the darkness. For a brief moment, he felt protected by an invisible barrier that shielded him from their intimidating presence. He stayed tense and alert, but his anxiety eased—he realised he didn’t need to risk revealing himself so soon by summoning a Patronus Charm.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR3Q7ZASKQq

Harry strode forward with purpose, drawing ever closer to Voldemort with each careful step. Shadows twisted and shifted among the trees, their gnarled branches stretching out into the night sky, while the surrounding darkness thickened, suffocating any sense of safety or hope. He made only the softest sound—the nearly silent swish of his footsteps on the leaf-strewn ground, further muffled by a thick carpet of ash covering the forest floor. Calm settled over him; he no longer felt afraid of what lay ahead. Instead, steady resolve filled him, as if the Hallows and the memories of those he loved guided him through the darkness, bolstering his courage for the final confrontation. 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPXVuBTIvFi

The crackling fire ahead illuminated the gloom, its flickering orange glow slicing through the darkness. Smoke’s sharp scent mingled with scorched earth, and faint, indistinct voices floated on the wind, taunting, mocking, and impatient. Harry silently navigated the trees, drawn by these sounds, until he reached the edge of a large clearing. He stopped at the edge of the trees, holding his breath as he watched the scene unfold ahead. 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuPHzTprk7Z

Masked and hooded Death Eaters formed a grim circle around the blazing bonfire; their faces bathed in firelight that twisted their features into monstrous shapes. The flames threw grotesque shadows, flickering and merging with the rising smoke. Voldemort paced impatiently in the centre, his crimson eyes gleaming in the firelight while he clutched the Elder Wand behind his back. The Dark Lord’s every movement radiated impatience and malice, as though he commanded the very night. Harry’s heart hammered with fear—the moment he had dreaded had arrived, and its outcome would determine the fate of everything he loved.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKG4Jad0BKs

Harry’s eyes landed on a scorched body lying on the ground beside the crackling fire, its twisted limbs half-shrouded by drifting smoke and the harsh flicker of orange flames, right next to where Voldemort paced. Burnt clothing clung to charred flesh, distorting the once-distinct features through injury and heat. Shadows danced across the lifeless form, mingling with blackened patches of earth and the shifting glow from the bonfire. Harry squinted and strained to discern any familiar trait—he searched for a tuft of dark hair, the curve of a battered wand hand, or the faint outline of a badge on what remained of a singed robe. The distance, the enveloping gloom, and the extent of the burns made identification impossible, with each moment drawing a fresh wave of dread into his chest.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL1AARE4EHp

The possibility that Voldemort had already shattered the fragile truce by murdering a resistance member and displaying their body as a brutal warning pressed down on Harry. He clenched the Resurrection Stone tightly in his fist while his mind raced through the faces of Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Ginny, desperately hoping none of them lay dead in the firelight. Fear surged, but Harry recognised that betrayal and violence came naturally to Voldemort; the Dark Lord’s promises held no value, and his words vanished as quickly as mist. Doubt and worry gnawed at Harry, blending with anger and grief as he stared at the grim scene, silently praying that none of his friends or allies had perished beside Voldemort’s fires.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFlcB1ZfXGb

Harry drew a deep breath and edged closer to Voldemort. The oppressive darkness of the forest pressed in on him, broken only by the faint crackle of flames and the haunting silence from the Death Eaters clustered around the fire. Clutching the Resurrection Stone, Harry let its coldness press into his palm—a constant reminder of those he had lost and the courage they inspired in him. The chill seeped into his bones, steadying his nerves even as it intensified the ache of memory. Fixing his gaze firmly on Voldemort and refusing to waver, Harry understood that everything depended on this moment.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUfpLhSfoET

Draco slipped between the dense trees, keeping himself concealed. The forest pressed in on him, ancient trunks looming overhead while tangled undergrowth clawed at his robes with every stride. Weak moonlight filtered through the branches, painting flickering shadows over the leaf-strewn ground and transforming roots and brambles into perfect hiding places. Distant voices grew louder, urgent and harsh, echoing through the woods and sending Draco’s nerves into overdrive. He halted, his heart hammering, and quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm—cool magic swept over his skin like icy water and merged him with the darkness. Holding his breath, he whispered another spell to silence his footsteps; the crackle of twigs and the rustle of leaves faded away, leaving only total silence. He crept forward, a shadow among shadows, determined to stay utterly invisible.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2C598HygJR

Draco crouched low in a thick bush, letting rough branches scrape his arms and legs as cold, damp earth pressed against his knees. He peered through a fragile canopy of leaves, his breath quiet and shallow, watching the clearing intently. The fire’s glow transformed Voldemort’s followers into sinister silhouettes, their black robes and silver masks glinting in the flickering orange light. Shadows played across their faces, distorting them into grotesque shapes. A chill ran down Draco’s spine, and a prickling sensation crept beneath his robes, nearly overwhelming him with dread. He barely moved, knowing that even the slightest sound or breath might reveal his hiding place.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡckN7d2f0c3

Voldemort strode restlessly around the large bonfire, gripping and loosening the Elder Wand with his long, skeletal fingers. The flames threw monstrous, flickering shadows across his pale, serpentine face, making his crimson eyes glow with menacing sharpness. His robe whispered with every impatient step, its dark fabric billowing behind him and catching the firelight in oily, deep hues. The Death Eaters shifted uneasily nearby, their masks and hoods concealing their identities but failing to hide the anxiety rippling through them as their master’s mood darkened.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ51KBTcYSAG

Draco pressed his back against an old, gnarled tree trunk. His heart thundered as his senses became razor-sharp. Amidst the smoke and restless shadows, Draco listened to Voldemort’s menacing voice reverberate through the clearing—each word landed cold and jagged, promising pain and punishment for betrayal. The sinister tone seemed to pierce the trees’ bark, and unease prickled through Draco. A chill traced his spine as he questioned, not for the first time, whether Potter would dare to face such peril, or abandon others to confront Voldemort alone.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqc08XHiUMD

Suddenly, Draco’s breath caught when Snape strode into the clearing. He gripped a coarse rope in his hand, dragging along someone who struggled awkwardly behind him. Draco’s eyes widened in shock as he recognised the limp, dishevelled figure—his own pale face, tousled blond hair, and the familiar Slytherin robes glowing in the dancing orange light. He froze, muscles taut with disbelief and confusion, unable to process the reality before him. Watching what appeared to be his own ghost left Draco’s insides twisted with terror and astonishment. The Death Eaters parted, their masks gleaming as they watched Snape haul the supposed Draco to the centre. Draco’s mind raced, desperate to understand how he could witness himself being dragged forward like a sacrifice, his identity displayed before Voldemort and the shadowy audience.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOg7VkEiiKf

‘No!’ Draco whispered sharply, and the realisation struck him with force: they had designed the Polyjuice Potion for this very moment. Awareness surged through his senses, making his skin prickle and his stomach twist into knots. Everything became clear—they had set the elaborate plan in motion long ago, arranging each step to culminate in this perilous deception. Betrayal soured his mouth, blending with the rush of panic. Snape probably knew the truth all along and deliberately kept Draco in the dark. Why didn’t Snape tell me? Draco’s thoughts raced over every memory—each cryptic glance, every evasive answer. He recalled how Snape had dodged his questions about the preparations and how his hands trembled while handling the potion’s ingredients. Realising that they had manipulated him and made crucial decisions about his fate behind his back filled his heart with anger and fear.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7N9Gj3oarF

Draco’s mother, not merely a decoy but disguised as him, stood before Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Realisation chilled him to the core. As he dug his fingers into the damp earth, he witnessed Narcissa, transformed by Polyjuice Potion, being dragged roughly across the firelit grass. Her slight frame struggled beneath Slytherin robes that hung awkwardly, the green and silver distorted in the tense atmosphere. He recognised the determined set of her jaw, her upright posture despite Snape’s firm grip, and the subtle glint in her eyes that betrayed her resolve to protect him at any cost. Realising that his mother willingly risked her life to shield him made Draco’s breath hitch and his heart pound loudly, threatening to give away his hiding place. The magnitude of her sacrifice swept over him, flooding him with panic, gratitude, and dread—every second she maintained this deadly charade snatched another moment from fate.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgNach6FGES

Panic and anger surged through Draco as he watched everything unfold. He breathed shallowly and raggedly, his hands trembling as he gripped the muddy ground beneath him. Each heartbeat pounded painfully against his chest, and the cold night air intensified his sense of helplessness. What are you doing, mother!? He’ll kill you! His mind shouted, desperately trying to reach Narcissa through the thick smoke and shadows. Dread, anger, and guilt churned in Draco’s stomach as he remained crouched in his hiding spot. He watched his mother’s jaw set with determination and saw the unwavering spark in her eyes as she confronted the masked Death Eaters. Every instinct urged him to act—to step out and rescue her—but the harsh truth pressed down on him: he could not change what was about to happen. Draco realised this with a frozen heart, torn between fear and admiration for her incredible sacrifice.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwzqOqGxnjZ

Snape gripped the rope restraining Fake-Draco tightly, his long, pale fingers digging into the coarse fibres and white knuckles standing out beneath the flickering bonfire glow. A sneer twisted his sharp features as he addressed Voldemort, letting disdain seep through the smoky air. ‘My Lord, I found him wandering in the forest near the castle. I believe Mr Malfoy was trying to help the blood-traitors,’ Snape said sharply, narrowing his eyes with suspicion and yanking the rope with sudden, brutal force. Fake-Draco stumbled, tangled their feet in the grass, and dropped to their knees before him, dragging Slytherin robes through the muddy ground.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnmxmqEtWEL

Voldemort hissed sharply, ‘Lucius,’ his eyes locked on the scared expression on Fake-Draco’s face. He delivered the command with an eerily calm tone, demanding Lucius’s immediate obedience. The Death Eaters anxiously hesitated around the bonfire, every eye fixed on Lucius as Voldemort summoned him. Voldemort’s intense gaze forced both Lucius and the trembling impostor to remain frozen in place.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB4i5vO7KLJ

The flames threw grotesque, shifting shadows across Lucius’s pale, strained face as he hesitated at the firelight’s edge; uncertainty and dread flickered across his expression. Lucius stepped forward, his boots barely making a sound on the damp earth. He kept his back stiff, even as fear tightened his mouth. Lucius glanced briefly at Fake-Draco—his son’s likeness kneeling in the mud, terror wide in their eyes—then quickly looked away, unwilling or unable to meet those desperate eyes.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRHXJrRhSNC

Lucius replied, ‘Yes, my Lord,’ keeping his voice steady but empty as he stepped up to Voldemort’s side. The firelight flickered across his fine, noble features, briefly revealing the haunted look deep in his cold, blue eyes. He maintained his composure, concealing any hesitation with a straight posture and measured movements that showed nothing of his inner turmoil. Lucius raised his wand with deliberate care and pointed it at the Fake-Draco, the tip glinting warningly in the orange glow. His face stayed calm and unreadable, lips pressed into a tight line, but his voice grew sharper and sliced through the tension when he declared, ‘I am disappointed in you, Draco, and your mother will suffer the same fate once she is located.’ Lucius strode swiftly towards Fake-Draco, his black cloak swirling around his ankles while his boots pressed into the damp ground. He instinctively bent down, his hand quivering ever so slightly, and gripped the impostor’s chin with his cold, unyielding fingers, forcing them to look him in the eye. For a fleeting moment, Lucius’s searching gaze swept over those familiar features, seeking any silent appeal or crack in the disguise. Nevertheless, he quickly regained his composure, determined to conceal any emotion from the assembled Death Eaters, and maintained a firm hold on the impostor’s chin, allowing no resistance.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbMDJLnl6OK

Fake-Draco glared at Lucius and spat, ‘I hate you,’ her voice trembling with fury. The defiance in her tone sliced through the smoky air, sharp as a blade and charged with raw emotion. She locked her eyes—so similar to Draco’s, yet blazing with a different fire—onto Lucius, refusing to look away despite the looming danger. She poured genuine anger into her voice, not for the masked audience, but as an actual eruption born from a lifetime of bitterness and disillusionment. Draco, hidden among tangled roots and shadows, recognised her authentic anger. Narcissa did not perform for their captors; instead, she revealed a deep-seated truth she had harboured for years. Every hardship Lucius inflicted on their family—every cold command, every compromise, every time he sacrificed their safety for the Dark Lord—had fuelled her resentment. Yet, she had remained silent out of fear of his violent reactions. Now, with each trembling breath and quivering lip, she broke that silence and laid bare her pain and fury before their enemies in a moment of both bravery and desperation.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEUT9JOer6s

Narcissa, now wearing Draco’s face, finally let out her long-suppressed resentment. Her voice shook with fierce anger that had simmered beneath her graceful exterior for years. She stood stiffly, defiant—her pose echoed Draco’s—and her gestures spoke volumes: she clenched her fists inside oversized sleeves, and lifted her chin with stubborn pride. Although she erupted with emotion, she stayed focused on her core purpose: she would protect Draco at any cost. With every breath, she showed the strength of her devotion as she confronted Voldemort and the assembled Death Eaters, her heart pounding fiercely beneath the borrowed robes. As she risked her life impersonating her son, fully exposed to their enemies’ ruthless judgement and the threat of instant death, Draco recognised the true force driving her. This fierce, unbreakable love compelled her to keep him safe.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAL1OUpMmza

Draco fought the overwhelming instinct to rush forward, seize his mother by the shoulders, and shake her, desperately trying to save her from her fate. Every nerve screamed at him to act; the urge to leap from hiding and shield Narcissa from the hostile crowd pressed so intensely that his muscles twitched with restraint. In his mind, he pictured himself charging across the clearing, clutching her trembling figure and dragging her away from danger, propelled by love and fear.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFBmsfv3Icj

Still, reason and the fear of being caught immobilised him. Invisible chains seemed to anchor him to the ground, and the knowledge of the consequences crushed any chance to act. Draco knew with bitter certainty that revealing himself would spell disaster—a hopeless outburst that would destroy both his and Narcissa’s futures. He recognised that her plan relied on secrecy, on persuading the Death Eaters that Draco was dead. If he stepped forward now, he would shatter everything, rendering her bravery meaningless and turning all her sacrifices into nothing but a senseless tragedy.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2mviyhJsb8

Draco recognised his mother’s clever deception. As he crept deeper into the shadows, his heart pounding, he appreciated the brilliance of Narcissa’s strategy. She actively concealed herself while she led the Death Eaters to believe that Draco Malfoy was dead—his apparently lifeless body remained vivid in their minds—resulting in a complicated confusion that even the Dark Lord struggled to unravel. The whispering wind mirrored the doubt now swirling through the clearing, as every Death Eater believed they had sacrificed one of their own to prove loyalty. Draco pictured doubt sweeping through Voldemort’s followers. Those closest to him would conceal Draco’s survival, gradually undermining the Dark Lord’s formidable confidence. When Draco reappeared unexpectedly, he would shock Voldemort, likely unsettling him and shattering the carefully maintained illusion of invincibility. This strategic move would shift the advantage, granting Potter the vital chance to deliver a decisive blow.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEuJl4nVnCT

Snape sneered, ‘Impudence!’ His harsh voice sliced through the tense air. He swung his hand in a quick, deliberate motion and slapped Fake-Draco across the face. The brutal slap echoed through the clearing with a sharp crack as his gloved hand struck, forcing her head to jerk to the side.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeyiIup2ZPQ

Draco watched as his fury intensified. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, fighting the overpowering urge to charge forward. When Snape slapped Narcissa, Draco felt the burn as if the blow had landed on his own cheek, a phantom pain echoing in solidarity with his mother. Outrage and helplessness made his breath catch and every muscle tense. The humiliation and violence directed at Narcissa—disguised as himself—ignited a storm of vengeful thoughts inside him. Draco silently promised himself that he would avenge his mother against Snape for daring to strike her, regardless of the reason or necessity.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzbv0oT9OVB

Draco reminded himself that they were all acting deliberately, staging a performance for Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Still, even with this knowledge, his anger did not subside. Snape intensified the tension and maintained the illusion with deliberate gestures and sharp comments, making the violence seem painfully real to Draco.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtwgsHvegFA

Draco begrudgingly acknowledged Snape’s talent in deception, despite harbouring resentment. Snape executed every move and word flawlessly, layering his performance so carefully that Draco, for a moment, felt genuinely betrayed. Snape fixed his cold gaze on Fake-Draco, injected calculated venom into his voice, and timed his barbed comments with precision, all contributing to the scene’s sickening authenticity. Snape deliberately acted with cruelty to maintain the illusion and conceal Draco’s true identity from the prying eyes of the Death Eaters—and, more importantly, from Voldemort.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNSJeyuPeMM

Even as Draco watched his mother flinch beneath the gloved hand and saw fresh marks of violence spread across her borrowed features, the painful blur between pretence and reality sharpened. Narcissa’s authentic agony—despite the performance—etched itself into Draco’s memory. He struggled to distinguish where Snape’s acting stopped and actual malice began, an uncertainty that left a cold emptiness in his chest.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPMmsv6VH4v

‘Severus, step back from the boy. I think his father should be the one to discipline him,’ Voldemort ordered, his voice calm but with an undercurrent of authority as he extended his arm, signalling Snape to approach. 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTVGcNNfa9u

Snape kept his face unreadable; he briefly flicked his eyes to Fake-Draco bound before him, then returned his gaze to the Dark Lord. Snape obeyed with deliberate precision, quickly releasing the rough, fraying rope from the Fake-Draco’s wrists. Snape moved forward carefully, swirling his black robes at his ankles as he positioned himself beside Voldemort. He adopted a posture that showed both submission and attentiveness, demonstrating the role of a loyal servant. The clearing tensed in expectation, shadows dancing as Lucius became the focus, his face a cold mask of resolve and internal struggle, waiting for the command to administer Voldemort’s harsh justice.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8gN5sBmqBR

Snape knelt before Voldemort and expressed utter submission, deliberately displaying deference with every movement. He let his black robes gather at his knees as he lowered himself onto the cold, muddy ground, the firelight flickering over the fabric. He bowed his head so low that his forehead nearly brushed the earth, then used his trembling, gloved hands to kiss the hem of the Dark Lord’s robes gently. He performed the act slowly and deliberately, making his exaggerated respect unmistakable, his lips pressing against the fabric in a gesture that verged on reverence. The Death Eaters watched in tense silence—some approved, while others looked on with contempt at the display of such blatant servility. ‘I apologise, my Lord,’ Snape murmured, thickening his voice with feigned humility and carefully selecting each word to project sincerity. He remained on his knees, head still bowed, and kept his gaze lowered, anxiously waiting for the Dark Lord’s response—a performance crafted to exhibit humility and loyal obedience, at least on the surface.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡelLprMsmnl

Voldemort kept his gaze locked on Snape, a serpentine smile curling across his thin lips—cold, calculating, and devoid of warmth. The firelight flickered in the hollows of his pale face, casting sinister shadows that emphasised his hollow cheeks and the cruel lines around his mouth. He maintained a sharp, unblinking stare that pinned Snape in place, daring him to flinch. ‘I understand, Severus, but I have another task for you,’ Voldemort said, his tone icy and composed, each word laced with quiet menace and chilling finality. Snape returned the gaze, remaining calm yet wary; tension flickered across his brow, betraying his caution as he awaited the Dark Lord’s following command, aware that any reaction could be scrutinised and turned against him in this perilous contest of loyalty and survival.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFAIPWRHDqO

‘Anything, my Lord,’ Snape said, maintaining a voice that sounded respectful and eager. He chose every word deliberately, using a silky and submissive tone without showing any obvious fear. He flickered calculation in his black eyes as he bowed slightly, displaying deep reverence but avoiding any hint of sycophancy. He kept his gloved hands still at his sides, fingers relaxed yet prepared to obey any command. He subtly balanced loyalty and wariness in his posture, presenting himself as the perfect image of a devoted servant while concealing his underlying caution.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWrSeU5C66n

Draco, still hidden in the shadows, flinched inwardly as Snape displayed sycophantic behaviour toward Voldemort. Snape deliberately infused his speech with exaggerated loyalty and adopted an almost tender tone, making Draco uneasy. Draco recognised the act behind every word, which Snape carefully selected, each one dripping with exaggerated reverence that bordered on theatricality. The forced smoothness in Snape’s voice made Draco grit his teeth, and the overly deferential phrases clung to the air like an unpleasant scent. Watching this spectacle, Draco’s stomach twisted with revulsion and disbelief; Snape seemed to transform into the very image of devoted servitude, bowing and scraping with a finesse both impressive and disturbing. The usually sharp-tongued Potions Master, now adopting such submissive manners to flatter the Dark Lord, made Draco’s skin crawl. Snape’s every gesture—slight dips of his head, the gentle tone, the way he kept his gloved hands modestly at his sides—projected humble devotion. Yet Draco saw through the act, fully aware of the calculated performance beneath the surface. Despite this awareness, Draco found the display deeply unsettling; it revealed the dangers of survival in Voldemort’s presence and highlighted the fragility of alliances in these desperate times.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC60LpcsJT7

Voldemort leaned in close and whispered to Snape. ‘Harry knows my secret. He might send his friends to... stop me,’ he warned, his tone menacing and heavy with implied threat. Voldemort’s speech crackled with tension, his barely contained fury simmering under his seemingly calm exterior, and exposed just how threatened he felt at the prospect of being discovered. Without further explanation, Voldemort narrowed his eyes sharply, his thin lips curling into a cruel sneer as he delivered his cold, clear command, ‘Exterminate them.’77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡULxWI4kVT1

‘At once, my Lord,’ Snape replied calmly, keeping his turbulent emotions hidden. He strode quickly and purposefully out of the clearing. His steps grew heavier with each stride, and Narcissa’s agonised screams pierced the night, testing his resolve. His throat tightened painfully as he resisted the urge to look back, knowing that any hesitation could prove disastrous. He pushed through the tangled undergrowth, with the oppressive air clinging to him and branches grasping at him like the hands of unseen enemies.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡximBXqZ4N9

Snape advanced cautiously, focusing on the dangerous task before him. Voldemort’s violent display gave him the perfect cover—he could now withdraw under the guise of obedience and urgency. Dumbledore’s foresight lit Snape’s thoughts through the chaos, guiding him at every turn. The old wizard’s measured wisdom accounted for every scenario, and as if an unseen force directed him, Snape began to set their risky plan in motion for a critical move. Tension mounted with each step; Snape recognised that Ron and Hermione relied on him, and their survival—as well as Harry’s—balanced on a knife’s edge.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0hfmt3JhXY

The forest swallowed Snape into its shadowy depths, but he forced his mind to focus on the task ahead, even as the violent and painful scene in the clearing continued to haunt him. He pressed forward, driven by duty, while his plan finally took shape. Snape understood that, despite Voldemort’s cruelty and cunning, the Dark Lord was not the only master strategist. Voldemort’s overconfidence had unintentionally allowed the Order to make their move, and as Snape disappeared into the night, grim certainty settled over him. He knew the pieces would soon fall into place, and the war would shift in ways even the serpent could not foresee.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAuUgpFlQ2N

Draco watched as Snape vanished into the dense shadows of the woods. For a brief moment, he considered chasing after him, yearning for answers or simply the comfort of another presence in the stifling darkness. Yet when his mother’s screams rang out—raw and unrestrained—terror and helplessness paralysed Draco, forcing him to remain where he was.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP1kVcGTK9W

Draco stared, frozen in horror, as he watched Narcissa writhe violently on the forest floor. The Cruciatus Curse twisted her limbs into unnatural angles and tore through her with merciless intensity. Each convulsion rippled through Draco’s own muscles, as if he directly felt her pain. Her screams, though muffled by the thick undergrowth, still pierced the night, echoing off the gnarled trunks and sending flocks of startled birds fluttering from their perches. Revulsion churned in Draco’s stomach as he watched pain wrack his mother. Terror flooded her wide, glassy eyes as she stared desperately into the darkness, searching in vain for relief. She clawed at the damp earth, her fingers digging into the ground as she fought valiantly against the invisible agony.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ65Oxn4gVxO

Draco stared, unable to tear his gaze away, sympathy tightening every muscle in his body. He clenched his fists so forcefully that his nails pierced his palms, blood trickling down his wrists and staining his robes. The pounding of his heart thundered in his ears, drowning out every sound except for the desperate cries of his mother.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD7Xks6JgnW

A bolt of vivid green light sliced across the clearing, engulfing Draco’s entire view in a blinding emerald glare. He instinctively shielded his eyes with an arm, the jagged afterimage lingering stubbornly across his vision. As his sight cleared, every detail appeared sharper and colder than before. His heart plummeted as he staggered backwards, confronted by a scene destined to haunt him forever.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1LfKiVTNul

His own likeness—Fake-Draco—lay sprawled on the ground among tangled roots and flickering shadows, eyes frozen open in death, their glassy gaze revealing the torment of a soul torn from its body. Agony twisted the pale face into a mask of eternal suffering; the mouth gaped in a silent scream, as if unimaginable pain had filled the final moments.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIB9v3AwaSd

Shock and horror made Draco’s breath catch in his throat, and his body trembled uncontrollably. He tensed every muscle, forcing himself to turn away. Yet, the image seared itself into his memory: he saw the familiar Slytherin robes, now wrinkled and stained, the blond hair tangled with sweat and dirt, and the hands twisted into claws, clawing desperately for a salvation that never came. Draco’s heart hammered fiercely in his chest; each beat sharply reminded him of the peril and sacrifice unfolding around him. Grief and fear froze him in place, making him utterly helpless as he witnessed the terrifying scene—one that exposed the cost of deception and the depth of his mother’s love.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOeLoF30Wjc

Panic gripped Draco, urging him to flee, yet his body refused to respond—fear and shock held him motionless. His hands shook uncontrollably, nails biting into his palms, while cold sweat covered his forehead and trickled down his back. Determined to remain hidden, Draco fought to steady his breathing, each inhale threatening to betray him with a gasp. He clamped a trembling hand over his mouth, his chest heaving with terror. Swiftly, he cast a silencing charm, shrouding himself in unnatural quiet and muting his ragged breaths and silent screams.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrkO8Y412js

Silent screams quickly became fierce promises of revenge. Horror paralysed Draco as he watched Lucius seize the limp form of Fake-Draco—his mother, still disguised by Polyjuice Potion. Lucius made a cold, mechanical gesture and hurled her into the roaring fire. Flames leapt hungrily around her, casting grotesque shadows that danced across the clearing. The heat surged upward, distorting the air and filling Draco’s nostrils with the acrid stench of burning cloth and flesh.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAhO8zKHsSO

The crackle of the flames brought Draco back to his mother’s sacrifice, her courage burning brighter than the fire that consumed her borrowed body. Tears filled Draco’s eyes, but he steeled his resolve. The fire reflected in his gaze, transforming grief into a silent vow: he would avenge this cruelty. Night pressed in, thick with sorrow and rage, and Draco transformed his suffering into a weapon—one he would wield against those who had shattered his world.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlb6CKqSwSC

Voldemort fixed his gaze on the scene before him, revealing a hint of disappointment. ‘Such a pity,’ he hissed softly, his words reptilian and sibilant, as he watched the lifeless form slide to the fire’s edge, already scorched. The orange glow of the flames reflected in his red eyes, blending fascination with disgust, as if he observed something more grotesque than the outcome of his own cruelty. He slowly and deliberately shook his head, his expression masked in mournful regret, but the corners of his thin lips curled upwards, revealing his underlying malice. He idly toyed with the hem of his robe using his long, white skeletal fingers, savouring the moment. ‘Such a talented young man, and it’s a shame to lose pure magical blood,’ Voldemort murmured, feigning sorrow. He released a sigh that almost seemed genuine—a soft, chilling exhale that broke the night’s silence. 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAAyMbP2enK

Hidden nearby, Draco felt his anger flare. He tensed his entire body, eager to strike; his jaw ached from clenching so hard, and his fists shook at his sides. He nearly punched the Dark Lord’s serpentine face, every beat of his heart pounding with rage. Still, Draco forced himself to remain concealed, hiding his fury deep inside and taking shallow, quiet breaths to mask his outrage behind a calm exterior. Every moment he spent around Voldemort tested his endurance, making him balance sorrow and fury as shadows flickered all around. Meanwhile, the flames consumed not only his mother’s body but also another piece of his innocence.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC2yxsLoqpw

Snape raced from the edge of the Forbidden Forest, his dark robes billowing behind him. He sprinted over the dew-soaked grass, his boots sending up sprays of cold moisture as he approached the castle, every muscle taut with urgency. Without delay, he triggered his Animagus transformation, convulsing and shrinking mid-stride; within moments, he became a bat. His form twisted and compressed, his bones thinned as leathery wings unfurled from his shoulders, and he soared into the cool midnight air.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrJTf2ehlTS

He beat his wings rapidly, slicing through the darkness as he soared above the shifting treetops towards the battered silhouette of Hogwarts. The moonlight gleamed on his sleek fur, and the cold wind whistled past his ears. Snape skilfully wove his way through the broken arches and jagged glass of the castle’s ruined windows, dodging stray embers and drifting smoke from distant fires. He navigated the maze of corridors with practised ease, relying on memory and instinct, until he arrived at a large hole on the second floor.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFHEfqggppg

Snape swept through the shattered window and landed softly on the icy stone outside the girls’ bathroom. He straightened, stretching and twisting his small frame as he resumed his human form, letting his robes settle around his tall, slender figure. He barely paused to catch his breath before reaching for the heavy wooden door, his fingers trembling slightly with adrenaline and cold. The hinges squeaked faintly when he pushed it open and stepped into the dim, echoing room beyond.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbfmmkgOvB6

Snape took a small vial from his pocket, letting its glass catch the faint, silvery light that filtered through the cracked window. With a quick flick of his thumb, he uncorked it, sending a sharp scent into the damp, musty air of the lavatory. He pressed the vial to his lips and downed the potion. The bitter liquid burned his throat as it went down, making him shiver and leaving a metallic aftertaste on his tongue. He swallowed repeatedly, jaw clenched and eyes watering slightly, knowing he could not afford to hesitate in this dangerous moment.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6nzGsns3VX

He fixed his gaze on the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets, sharpening his eyes with focus and tensing every muscle in his face with anticipation. He swiftly levelled his wand at the sink and began to speak, but only a serpentine hiss—foreign and ancient—escaped his lips. The hiss echoed through the cracked porcelain and damp stone. The ancient magic responded to the command, rumbling open the portal to the Chamber with a deep, echoing groan. Stone scraped against stone as the sink trembled and slid aside, revealing the dark passage below. The entrance yawned open before him, releasing the faint smell of stagnant water and buried secrets.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5t7gAnR74q

Snape shrank and twisted as he transformed into a bat, leathery wings unfurling from his shoulders. Magic and anatomy performed a grotesque dance: his bones cracked sharply, his limbs bent and realigned, and his robes merged into smooth, midnight fur. A sudden gust of cold air swept around him while he shed his human form, and his world narrowed to the acute senses of a nocturnal creature. He soared into the darkness, gliding swiftly through the passageway with precise control, each wingbeat stirring dust motes that briefly sparkled in the moonlight above.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuUbhxFRXWr

Snape hugged the edges of the ancient stone walls as he navigated the winding tunnels, skimming close to the uneven ground to avoid loose debris and puddles of stagnant water. Thin slivers of silver light filtered through cracks, breaking the oppressive darkness and casting fleeting shadows along his path. At each barrier—a series of heavy, iron-studded doors—he paused briefly, hanging in the cold air. With practised finesse, he shifted back to his human form just long enough to whisper intricate incantations that triggered the mechanisms to click and forced the ancient locks to open reluctantly. The movement of each door echoed through the corridors, momentarily risking exposure, but Snape kept his actions swift and cautious. Using his skills, he moved quickly and silently through the maze-like chamber, pressing on with his heart pounding from the urgency of his mission and every sense sharpened to the dangers ahead.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfmx7rz39Ix

Snape swept towards the grand Salazar Slytherin statue, his leathery wings slicing through the damp, cavernous air of the Chamber. The vaulted, serpent-shaped columns echoed with every beat as he descended, while the chill mist swirled beneath him, carrying a faint, acrid odour of ancient decay. He landed silently on the cold stone floor and, with a resonant shift, transformed back into a human. He straightened, black robes pooling around him, and his breath fogged in the frigid underground gloom. With careful steps, he approached the coiled remains of the massive serpent at the statue’s base. The Basilisk’s enormous body lay still and silent, its emerald-green scales reflecting the little light that filtered down from above, casting an eerie, iridescent glow across the chamber. Its once formidable head angled unnaturally, fangs bared in a final threatening snarl. Venom stains marked the stone around its open mouth. Snape paused, absorbing the creature’s ancient majesty and the profound silence now ruling what had once been a lair of terror.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoV2kVlqWcZ

Snape recalled Dumbledore’s words and focused on Potter’s earlier success in the Chamber of Secrets. He saw clearly how Dumbledore had explained Harry’s use of a Basilisk fang to destroy Tom Riddle’s diary, with the venom proving so potent that it permanently destroyed the cursed object. These memories echoed in Snape’s mind—the seriousness in Dumbledore’s voice and the heavy burden settling on his shoulders. Snape understood that Basilisk venom was not just deadly but also rare and powerful enough to break even the strongest magical protections on dark artefacts. He recognised that the Basilisk’s fangs, still hidden in the Chamber’s shadows, were more than relics of ancient magic—they held the potential to help defeat Voldemort’s Horcruxes. The insight chilled him; his ability to recover these fangs and use their venom to obliterate the Dark Lord’s fragments would determine his success or failure.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKfJQsNasQZ

With precise, deliberate movements, Snape flicked his wand and forced several enormous fangs to break free from the giant Basilisk’s open maw. The loud crack echoed through the dark chamber as he directed the venomous, aged fangs to hover weightlessly in the faint, greenish glow. He slipped the fangs into a black leather bag, muffling the deadly contents with the soft hide’s muted rustle. He skilfully tied the pouch and tucked it deep inside the folds of his cloak, ensuring nothing was left visible. A rare flicker of triumph crossed his face, quiet but unmistakable.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRNhmpfjSJs

Magic surged through Snape’s body, causing him to convulse as his bones shifted with a wet crack and leathery wings sprouted from his shoulders. He transformed instantly into a bat, and the world around him sharpened into a tapestry of sounds and scents. He launched himself into the air, beating his wings silently and expertly navigating the winding tunnels of the Chamber. He hugged the damp, ancient walls, slipped past collapsing columns and lurking shadows, and retraced his previous path with impressive precision.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5fSACOiXyj

Snape emerged from the darkness into the cold, empty girls’ bathroom. He landed silently on the icy stone floor and transformed smoothly back into his human form. Standing tall, he cautiously eyed the wide entrance to the Chamber. Then, hissing deeply and perfectly in Parseltongue, he commanded the passage to close. The large stone sink trembled and scraped loudly as it moved across the floor and shut, securing the ancient secrets and darkness once more.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkU35c3w5Xu

Snape slid his hand into his pocket and drew out the counter-potion, a slight tremor betraying the tension simmering within him. The soft clink of glass against glass rang out in the hush, and the vial’s coolness grounded him—offering a fragile sense of control after the upheaval of his transformation. He drew a steadying breath, determined to slow his pounding heart and brace himself for whatever lay ahead.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTRkXqMPUTu

He heard muffled voices from outside the bathroom, breaking through the damp, heavy air. Acting on instinct, Snape slipped into the nearest cubicle and pulled the warped wooden door shut behind him. The hinges creaked softly, slicing through the tense silence like a knife. He pressed himself against the cool, tiled wall, muscles taut, scarcely breathing. From his concealed spot, he listened intently, adrenaline sharpening his senses, hoping the intruders would pass by without detecting the hidden dangers lurking nearby.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJfuAAGQiV4

Snape peered carefully around the corner and watched Ron and Hermione as they approached the entrance, moving slowly and cautiously across the damp flagstones. Hermione furrowed her brow deeply, focusing intently while her eyes darted between the shadowy corners and the old, dust-covered sinks. Ron clenched his jaw with grim determination. Their faint, nervous voices murmured urgently, and Snape caught snippets of their anxious but resolute conversation. He noticed Hermione’s trembling hands as she gripped her wand tightly, and observed Ron’s knuckles whitening each time he looked at the sealed passage. By recognising their concentrated expressions and silent communication, Snape correctly guessed that they had uncovered the secret to destroying the Horcruxes. Despite his usual reserve, he felt a fleeting, unfamiliar pride stirring within him at their cleverness—a quiet acknowledgement of how much they had progressed in fighting the darkness.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYImgrgTFRf

Aware he needed to stay hidden, Snape quickly drank the counter-potion. The harsh, bitter liquid curled his lips and tightened his throat as he swallowed. He fought back the urge to gag, the foul taste overwhelming his senses. The potent magic blurred his vision for a moment, and a shiver shot down his spine. Grimacing, he forced down the final mouthful of the thick potion, his muscles straining with effort. Once finished, he carefully tucked the empty vial deep within his cloak, making sure nothing could give him away. He moved with precision and caution, drawing on years of experience in keeping secrets.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMzeVno3nw6

Hermione shouted in an urgent voice, ‘We need to act fast! We’ve already lost too much time!’ She nervously darted her eyes toward the tap faucets, scanning the ancient porcelain for any signs of enchantment or hidden mechanisms that might open the Chamber of Secrets. She drew quick, anxious gasps as she observed every detail—the chipped tiles under her feet, the sound of water dripping somewhere in the darkness, and the heavy silence pressing in from the sealed passage. Hermione tensed her entire body with anticipation and raced through spells and snippets of Parseltongue in her mind, desperately searching for a breakthrough as seconds ticked by and the danger of failure grew nearer.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcK7wLg8A2q

Hermione saw Ron’s worried frown and his crossed arms, which displayed his doubt and anxiety. He said, ‘I’m not a Parselmouth, Hermione. I’m not sure this will work,’ in a hesitant, low voice that revealed the pressure weighing on him. As he looked at the battered porcelain sinks and the faded snake design on the tap, his concern intensified, fully aware of the difficulty they faced. ‘I said we need the Basilisk Fangs, but I didn’t say how we would get them,’ he added, his words tinged with frustration. He glanced at Hermione’s trembling hands gripping her wand, sharing a silent acknowledgement of the uncertainty they faced. He shook his head in mounting frustration, tightening his mouth into a stubborn line as he considered their options. ‘There has to be another way in,’ he argued, his voice sharp with determination, refusing to give up despite numerous obstacles. Doubt flickered within him, but Ron’s eyes shone with resolve, and for a brief moment, he embodied a true Gryffindor—fearless even when all hope seemed gone.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlhswYtToxM

Hermione’s fear showed in her quivering voice and faltering control. She pleaded, ‘Harry might be dead, Ron! Just try to imitate the noises or something,’ as she struggled to hold herself together. Her chest rose and fell rapidly and unevenly, while her hands shook so much she could hardly grip her wand. She looked desperately at Ron, hoping he would either recall or manage to produce some Parseltongue—anything that could grant them access to the Chamber. The vulnerability on her face made her deep fear unmistakable, as she clung to the hope that Ron might mimic Harry’s serpent sounds and give them another chance.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW6VO3jEk0P

Ron drew a deep breath and moved towards Hermione, his footsteps muffling against the cold, damp tiles. He leaned in and gently wrapped his arms around her trembling shoulders. She shook beneath his touch, her sobs subdued by the heavy silence that enveloped them. He tried to comfort her, doing what he could, though doubt clouded his eyes—apparent in the furrow of his brow and the tightness of his jaw. ‘That was years ago. I don’t remember what Harry did or how to imitate it,’ Ron whispered, his voice tight with concern and frustration. He looked at Hermione with anxious tenderness and gently wiped her tears, his gesture tentative.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwsn9eaYY4U

Hermione softly declared, her voice trembling with despair, ‘Then it’s all for nothing,’ and shook her head in resignation. Hope drained from her as her shoulders slumped and her arms hung loosely at her sides.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡN21agia4Wq

Snape remained hidden in the bathroom’s shadows, coldly observing Ron and Hermione. The darkness concealed his black cloak so well that he became almost invisible until the moment arrived to strike. He tracked their frantic, anxious gestures with sharp, calculating eyes, recognising how close they were to panic. When he chose to act, he moved swiftly and silently, ghost-like in his approach. He stepped out from the shadows, radiating authority and threat. With a practised flick, he raised his wand and muttered a quick spell before Ron or Hermione could respond. He yanked their wands from their hands and caught them neatly in his gloved palm. The sudden action froze Ron and Hermione in shock. Their eyes widened with the realisation that they now stood defenceless before a man infamous for his ruthlessness and shrouded in mystery.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhY2440ly0C

Ron snapped fiercely, ‘Snape,’ as he struggled to control his anger and clenched his fists tightly at his sides. The sight of Snape with his wand drawn and their wands out of reach fuelled Ron’s fury even further. He tensed every muscle, clenched his jaw, and fixed his stare on the man he blamed for so much pain and betrayal.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDlYNUAVRUz

Snape emerged from the shadowy corner, moving with sleek, menacing precision. He deliberately projected danger with each step, keeping his wand cold and unwavering as he aimed it at Ron and Hermione. He swept his dark, piercing eyes—full of disdain—across the scene and curled his lips in contempt. ‘I apologise for disturbing your nauseating display of affection, but you’re just wasting time,’ he sneered, his voice low and sharp, slicing through the tense silence in the bathroom. Without lowering his guard or softening his stance, he reached into his cloak and produced a gleaming Basilisk Fang. The wickedly curved ivory caught the dim light, throwing threatening shadows onto the cracked tiles. He held the fang high, fixing them with a steely stare. ‘Looking for these?’ he asked mockingly, waving the deadly relic before their surprised eyes and emphasising the danger of their quest.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlB1ubQTM4p

Ron and Hermione grew pale, their expressions tightening with fear and acceptance. Ron pressed his lips firmly together, his eyes shining with unshed tears as guilt weighed on him. In a nearly whispering voice, filled with regret, he quietly apologised to Harry, his words trembling as he spoke—an acknowledgement that he now bore the heavy burden of their failure. Ron could not contain his rising frustration and grief, so he clenched his fist and slammed it against the edge of the old sink. The sharp, hollow bang rang out through the cold, silent bathroom, shattering the heavy quiet and reverberating off the stained porcelain. Hermione flinched at the sudden sound, anxiety and helplessness etched on her face as she fixed her wide, fearful eyes on Ron, worried about what might unfold next.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq72vPszJfS

Snape fixed Ron and Hermione with a detached look, his dark, unreadable eyes seeming to weigh their destinies without revealing any personal emotion. He said, ‘Potter isn’t dead yet. If he were, you’d hear the cheers from here,’ his tone chillingly calm and indifferent. He paused and flicked his gaze between them. ‘No, there’s still hope. I need both of you to stay quiet and follow my instructions exactly,’ Snape ordered, his smooth voice steady and firm, steel underlying his command and leaving no room for argument.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6u0TEN5c12

Ron fixed Snape with a fierce stare, his body tight with anger and his eyes burning beneath a furrowed brow. Ron shouted, his voice trembling with restrained fury, ‘We’d rather die than help you! You killed Professor Dumbledore! You might as well kill us too!’77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNHRE8Tx6cP

Hermione gripped Ron’s arm tightly, her nails digging into his skin as she clung to her emotions. A sharp pain shot up his arm, but Ron refused to flinch or retreat from his passionate declaration. He drew sharp breaths, his chest rising and his nostrils flaring. He stood with squared shoulders and clenched fists, showing he was ready to stand firm, whatever the looming threat.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB6ybHjId7t

Snape fixed Ron and Hermione with icy resolve, his intense black eyes piercing the darkness. He declared in a calm, cold voice, ‘I have no intention of killing you,’ his words brooking no argument. With precise, almost theatrical intent, he reached beneath his cloak and drew out a small, plain stone. The stone, matte at first, caught a sliver of moonlight as Snape knelt and deliberately set it on the grimy tiles between them. Ron and Hermione held their breath and tensed their shoulders, their eyes never leaving Snape’s hands as they watched in silence.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5CnwuA2Enc

Snape did not hesitate as he lifted his wand, his fingers tightening around the handle. He aimed the tip at the stone and, with his characteristic silky whisper, set it rippling as if an invisible force had touched it. The transformation mesmerised Ron and Hermione: the rough edges smoothed out, the dull surface became translucent, and silvery patterns began to swirl across it, catching the cold light. The stone slowly expanded and reshaped, shifting and undulating until, before their stunned eyes, it became a shining Pensieve—its broad, shallow basin gleaming softly. The magical device hummed with hidden energy, casting rippling reflections on the cracked tiles and over the amazed faces of Ron and Hermione, who watched the transformation with suspicion, hope, and disbelief.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwPqHsKZ4ML

Snape pulled a slim, cold flask from his pocket, filled with a silvery, shimmering liquid—memories suspended within. The liquid swirled in an otherworldly fashion, undulating like living mercury. With practised precision, Snape uncorked the vessel, producing a soft pop that echoed in the hushed bathroom. He poured the contents into the Pensieve, and flickering images instantly roared to life, forming shifting shapes. Shadows darted over the cracked, grimy tiles as the silvery memories painted the old room with ever-changing light and shadow. The magical substance spiralled hypnotically, revealing fleeting glimpses of people, places, and long-buried secrets. ‘Look,’ he said, his voice steady and commanding as he gestured to the device. The words cut through the tension, drawing Ron and Hermione’s attention to the glowing Pensieve. ‘Now!’ he commanded sharply, his tone leaving no room for resistance. The urgency pressed on them like a tangible weight, and, startled by his insistence, Ron and Hermione hurried to the Pensieve, hearts pounding, ready for the truth Snape was about to unveil—whatever secrets lay in the swirling depths.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhXORBEC8pY

Snape maintained a blank expression as he stood near Ron and Hermione, who peered into the Pensieve. He meticulously brushed away imaginary lint from his cloak, his fingers moving in precise, almost ritualistic gestures, undisturbed by the emotional turmoil next to him. He held himself with perfect posture—shoulders back, head slightly inclined, and his cloak elegantly draped so its folds pooled across the grimy tiles. Every so often, he glanced at the Gryffindors before promptly returning to adjusting his immaculate cloak, acting as though the swirling memories did not deserve his attention.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5frNweyJ6s

Ron and Hermione raised their heads from the shimmering depths, their eyes wide and their faces shocked and disbelieving at what they had just witnessed. Hermione silently gasped, her lips parted and her chest heaving as she struggled to process the swirling revelations, her cheeks growing pale. Ron gripped the rim of the Pensieve for support, his hands trembling and his knuckles stark white in the silvery glow. They kept their haunted gazes fixed on the fading images, as though they had witnessed secrets too heavy to bear. A quiet, almost sacred silence settled over the moonlit bathroom, interrupted only by Hermione’s shuddering breath and the faint ripples on the Pensieve’s surface, which now lay calm but still echoed the weight of the memories within. The enormity of their discoveries pressed heavily upon them, leaving them momentarily frozen, unable to speak or look away from the magical basin that had revealed the past so unflinchingly.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu3kFPrt18x

Snape maintained a calm, detached expression, keeping his face blank and betraying nothing in his black eyes. He said quietly, his voice steady and low, each word clear and firm in the tense silence, ‘Now, you understand.’ 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQ6YuXLTTMr

Ron and Hermione stood frozen, their faces pale and eyes wide with haunted expressions, the powerful memories still crashing over them. Hermione caught her breath and gripped the edge of the Pensieve as if it anchored her to reality. Ron tightened his jaw and stared ahead with shaking hands, letting the weight of the truth settle deeply within him. The shock of what they had seen numbed and emptied them, leaving their senses spinning. In the heavy silence, they could only nod hesitantly and quietly, still struggling to comprehend the significance of Snape’s revelations—uncertain whether to feel relief, sadness, or something far more complex as their world shifted around them.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0N0wnLhb9i

Ron studied Snape, confusion and suspicion mingling on his face as he tried to make sense of this unexpected turn. He furrowed his brow and parted his lips in silent disbelief, while conflicting emotions flickered over his features. For years, Ron had regarded Snape as a menacing figure—an educator who always seemed determined to undermine him and his friends. Now, as he stood before Snape, he saw the man offering unexpected help. Ron’s mind raced to reconcile the enemy he had known with the calm, purposeful behaviour Snape now displayed. His voice trembled as he finally asked, ‘So, you’re helping us?’ He spoke tentatively, searching Snape’s face for any hint of deception—a flicker of an eyelid or a subtle smile that might betray hidden motives.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKMgnvbHJOK

Snape nodded briefly, keeping his face as unreadable as ever and showing nothing of his true motives in the slight line of his mouth. ‘You’ll need these,’ he said, pulling a small, faded leather pouch from inside his cloak and handing it to Hermione. The bag pressed heavily and coldly into her hand, its surface worn smooth from years of use. She found the sharp, ivory Basilisk Fangs inside, their tips catching the light and casting faint, jagged shadows on Hermione’s trembling fingers.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe1wQcNV5t2

Snape reached swiftly and precisely into his cloak pocket, drawing out Ron and Hermione’s wands. He weighed them for a moment, the polished wood gleaming softly in the dim light as he examined them with a practised eye. ‘And these,’ he said sharply but purposefully, handing the wands back to them. The familiar warmth of the wood comforted them, grounding Ron and Hermione in their task, but Snape’s calculated movements reminded them of the dangers that lay ahead. He executed the entire exchange with his usual efficiency—each gesture measured, his black eyes flicking away quickly, as though unwilling to betray even a hint of emotion.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCqjrTnkXKi

Snape locked his gaze on them, his eyes shining with icy determination. He commanded quietly, ‘Destroy the Horcruxes and meet me at the Forbidden Forest’s edge,’ his tone sharp and leaving no room for disagreement. 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2Khympmct0

Without waiting for a response, Snape strode toward the door. He paused in the doorway, silhouetted by the moonlight, casting a long shadow on the cracked floor. For a brief moment, he looked back with an unreadable face—a flicker of something like regret crossed his features before he braced himself. Then, almost imperceptibly, Snape shimmered and shrank. His features blurred and twisted as he transformed, turning his cloak into wings and shrinking his limbs, until he became a sleek black bat. The tiny creature hovered in the air for a moment, its wings outstretched and shining in the moonlight, then shot into the corridor and vanished into the shadows, leaving behind a tense silence and a lingering sense of dark intent.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY8mLbY7j98

Ron and Hermione exchanged uneasy glances as they tried to grasp what had just happened. Ron reached for the small bag that Hermione carried, furrowing his brow in thought while his fingers trembled slightly as they brushed the worn leather. ‘How do you suppose he managed to get into the Chamber of Secrets?’ he asked, his voice curious yet cautious as he gazed at the old sink. Grime and age streaked the porcelain, and a layer of dust dulled its serpent-engraved tap, as though no one had touched it since their desperate descent years ago.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpmdibimoIy

Hermione shrugged, uncertainty flickering in her eyes as she said, ‘You know Snape, he’s resourceful,’ with reluctant admiration. Her voice remained soft, yet a hint of respect for the man she once feared coloured her words. ‘But we have them, Ron!’ she added firmly, her tone growing more confident as determination sharpened her words. Hermione reached into her beaded bag and, with great care, drew out the two Horcruxes she had stored there. They glowed ominously in the dim light, sending pulses of malevolent energy through the cold air. One, a tarnished, warped Diadem shone balefully; the other, a small, seemingly innocent Cup engraved with ancient runes, throbbed with dark magic beneath its golden surface. Ron and Hermione stared at the Horcruxes with fear and determination, fully aware of the significance of what they were about to do. Their faces stayed tense—Ron clenched his jaw, Hermione pressed her lips into a resolute line—as they braced themselves for the dangerous task ahead, knowing the fate of the wizarding world hinged on their subsequent actions.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4MBPuK10lE

Ron and Hermione gripped a Basilisk Fang each, exchanging a determined nod as they focused on the Horcruxes. Shadows flickered across the cracked tiles while they raised the fangs, the sharp points glinting with cold, unyielding purpose. With unwavering resolve, they acted together, plunging the fangs into the cursed objects—first the Diadem, then the ancient Cup. As the fangs pierced the artefacts, dark magic exploded outward, sending sinister energy rippling through the room.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5i2WfmmyoN

The Horcruxes shuddered violently, cracks splitting and warping their surfaces as they resisted destruction. From each one, two fragments of Voldemort’s soul erupted, thrashing and twisting in agony. These soul pieces tore themselves free, shaping into ghostly, grotesque figures—dark, spectral forms with mouths stretched wide in silent screams that soon became sharp, chilling shrieks. The overwhelming noise thundered off the stone walls and ricocheted through the ancient pipes, making the air itself vibrate with dread. Ron and Hermione clamped their hands over their ears, gritting their teeth against the unbearable sound, their faces contorted with pain and fear.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdMgegNXAok

The soul fragments thrashed wildly about the chamber, desperately struggling to break free. Pale, ghostly tendrils whipped and flickered, casting warped shadows over the grimy bathroom surfaces. The noise built to a feverish pitch as the fragments slammed against the doorway and exploded outwards in a flash of spectral light. In an instant, they shot into the darkness beyond, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. The heavy sense of evil lifted, replaced by a cold, hollow emptiness. Dust motes drifted slowly through the moonlit quiet, and the only sound was Ron and Hermione’s faint, shaky breaths as they stood over the destroyed Horcruxes, overwhelmed with relief and shock at what they had managed to accomplish.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4dKvrjYNjT

Voldemort’s anguished scream shattered the night in the clearing of the Forbidden Forest—an intense, guttural cry that shook the very roots of the ancient trees. The destruction of his Horcruxes sent agony surging through every nerve in his body, sharp and unyielding. He staggered and doubled over from the relentless pain, shock and fury twisting his waxen face as he bared his clenched, snake-like teeth. He clawed at his chest with long, skeletal fingers, as if he could physically tear out the pain, while his crimson eyes widened in terror and disbelief at his own vulnerability.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXjb6Vf4tht

The ranks of Death Eaters recoiled, shifting uncomfortably as they watched their seemingly unstoppable Master fall. Several exchanged quick, fearful glances, while others instinctively stepped back from his rage, the forest’s darkness deepening the lines of worry on their faces. Even the bravest among them hesitated, unsure whether to move closer or avert their gaze, as Voldemort’s pained cries echoed through the trees, mingling with the distant hoot of an owl and the wind rustling through the branches.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYO4bbwogXJ

Shadows swirled at Voldemort’s feet while he fought to regain control, his breathing coming in shallow, ragged bursts. The full moon’s spectral light pierced the trees, highlighting beads of sweat on his pale skin and the tremor of his wand hand. A chilling silence filled the air, broken only by the faint movements of the Death Eaters and Nagini’s sibilant hiss as she coiled herself protectively around his ankles, her golden eyes scanning the forest for unseen dangers.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgAwyOM19Nk

Voldemort shifted his face between intense rage and wounded pride, challenging each follower with his eyes as if daring them to acknowledge his vulnerability. He seemed to have lost his power temporarily—not because of any enemy’s spell, but because of a profound, personal loss that only he could truly feel. In that silent, charged moment, everyone sensed that something irreversible had happened. His pain ran deeper than the physical; it marked a rupture in his immortality, a wound to his soul that everyone could see, though only a few truly understood its cause.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvB2cc4lhNv

Harry clamped his jaw shut, fighting to stifle a cry as a sharp, fiery pain erupted from his scar. The agony seared across his forehead, branding him with a fierce, scorching heat. He gripped his head, digging his fingers into his messy hair, while his vision blurred and the world spun wildly. For a moment, nothing else existed—only the relentless pain, pulsing with his heartbeat and overwhelming the forest sounds and the distant crackle of the fire.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWziPhMtw69

Amid the haze, he managed to see Voldemort stagger across the moonlit clearing, twisting his waxen face in agony as he clutched his chest with skeletal hands, as though trying to keep his soul from escaping. The Dark Lord’s wide, red eyes reflected shock, while his lips pulled back into a silent snarl of pain. He swayed and nearly collapsed onto the forest floor, unable to escape the unrelenting pain.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrMriXpLz70

Harry’s face broke into a fleeting, involuntary smile as he grasped what had happened. Although a sharp pain throbbed in his head, hope surged inside him—he felt sure that Hermione and Ron had destroyed more Horcruxes. Their courage and determination in the face of danger had struck another blow against Voldemort’s cursed immortality. The thought filled Harry with pride for his friends and bolstered his resolve.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJBp6LZF5oP

As the pain in his scar gradually ebbed, Harry drew a deep, shaky breath. Relief swept through him, mingling with anticipation for what lay ahead. Though exhaustion still weighed on his limbs, Harry pulled himself upright, his determination reignited. He recognised the battle was far from over, but for now, a small victory broke through the darkness—a sign that the tide might finally be turning.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡALykfsXeM9

Bellatrix noticed Voldemort’s visible distress and hurried forward, her worry clear as she shouted, ‘My Lord!’ Desperation sharpened her voice, and terror flickered in her dark eyes at the threat of her master’s downfall. She reached out with trembling hands, her usual cruel confidence melting into raw concern and fear. However, Voldemort, still reeling from the pain of his destroyed Horcruxes and refusing to show weakness, quickly jerked his arm to push her back. His icy, forceful touch conveyed contempt and a warning. He twisted his face in fury and fixed Bellatrix with a chilling glare, making her instinctively flinch and catch her breath. For a moment, she grappled with the conflict between loyalty and fear, but she dared not protest. The entire scene radiated dangerous volatility, silently commanding that no one—regardless of devotion—should approach the Dark Lord in his fragile moment.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8taXtNleXy

Voldemort snapped, ‘Don’t touch me!’ He delivered his words with a venomous hiss, causing even the most stoic Death Eaters to flinch. Bellatrix recoiled in alarm, her hands trembling as the force of his rejection seemed to burn her. She moved so suddenly that her wild hair whipped around her face, momentarily hiding the shock and hurt that flickered in her dark eyes. Voldemort moved swiftly and defensively, his body taut and ready to strike. He jerked himself upright, straining his frail, skeletal frame in a futile effort to conceal the toll of his lost Horcruxes. He gripped his wand so tightly that his knuckles whitened, and he wrapped his tattered robes around himself, as if donning armour to shield against both physical pain and the humiliation of his followers’ stares.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMcyeO218G2

Voldemort ignored the mounting tension and methodically smoothed his robes with a slow, deliberate gesture, reaffirming his authority over both his appearance and the situation. He fixed Bellatrix with a scornful glare, his red eyes burning with icy rage, and diminished her confidence, making her seem less significant. At that moment, he straightened his posture, lifted his head despite the pain, and stood tall—radiating a cold, commanding presence that allowed no room for pity or comfort. He made it clear: the Dark Lord accepted no signs of weakness, whether in himself or his followers.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9HRmdxyqUs

Harry looked back at Voldemort, standing in the clearing and breathing heavily and unevenly from his recent pain. As Harry watched more closely, a gleam of gold caught his eye on Voldemort’s middle finger. The flickering firelight revealed a ring, its surface glowing ominously. The gold pulsed with a cold, unnatural light, twisting the fire’s reflections and making the ring seem almost alive. An inexplicable force drew Harry’s attention to the ring, holding him captive so he couldn’t look away. The longer he stared, the more detached he felt from his surroundings, as though the ring exerted a strange influence over his mind, drawing him into a trance. Forest sounds and Death Eater whispers faded into the background. The ring’s presence pressed on his thoughts, tugging at the edges of his consciousness with a seductive, dangerous promise. This quiet, magnetic power threatened to overpower his will if he let his guard down even for a moment.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTSnHZjcaDR

A sharp sensation jolted Harry and snapped him out of his trance, as though he had woken from a vivid dream. He blinked rapidly, shaking off the strange, almost hypnotic state that had settled over his thoughts. A cold chill raced down his spine as he tore his gaze from the ring, his heart pounding uncomfortably. Confusion swirled within him, and he frowned, his breath growing shallow. The ring’s influence clung to his mind like a shadow that refused to fade. He could swear he heard it whispering—soft, sinister words curling at the edge of his awareness, too faint to grasp but eerily threatening. The sensation of icy fingers stroking inside his skull unsettled him, as the ring seemed to offer power and secrets he was too afraid to uncover. The experience deeply unnerved him, setting his nerves tingling as if he had touched something ancient and evil. Harry desperately tried to dismiss his unease, convincing himself it was only exhaustion and his imagination at work. Still, despite his efforts, the memory of that chilling whisper stubbornly lingered in his mind.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCrkfXeghSo

The campfire flames flickered across the Death Eaters’ faces, throwing deep shadows and highlighting their menacing presence. Each flare of light picked out their cruel expressions, making Voldemort’s followers appear even more intimidating. Firelight shimmered over their gaunt, angular features, casting jagged patterns on the ground and glinting from the dark metal of their masks, some of which they still wore. The orange glow warped their faces, drawing their eyes into hollow sockets and twisting their mouths into sneers and smirks. Darkness pooled in the hollows of their cheeks and under their brows, giving them an almost spectral, demonic appearance. Some stood stiffly, alert, wands ready, while others exchanged secretive, eager glances, their anticipation of violence thickening the tense atmosphere.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Y2RoP925w

Harry looked around the clearing, his heart sinking at the stark contrast: Voldemort commanded loyal followers, but Harry stood alone, with no one beside him.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv5RSkpFRLy

A sudden noise at the edge of the clearing interrupted Harry’s focus on the intimidating group of Death Eaters. A sharp crack from a broken twig, followed by rustling branches, shattered the tense silence, prompting several masked figures to turn in unison. Harry instinctively scanned the area to identify the source of the disturbance, his heartbeat quickening with fear. From the shifting shadows, two strong Death Eaters roughly pushed Hagrid into view. Dishevelled and battered, Hagrid’s wild hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, and his battered coat hung in tatters from his broad shoulders. His familiar, warm face twisted with fear and anger, cheeks smeared with dirt and blood. Thick ropes bound his arms tightly to his sides, digging into his skin, while his heavy boots, forced forward, carved deep furrows into the leaf-covered ground as the Death Eaters shoved him ahead.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHvZfE50Dmn

Despair overwhelmed Harry when he realised that Voldemort’s forces had captured Hagrid. The sight of his friend—so tall and usually unstoppable—reduced to a prisoner dealt Harry a fresh blow, cutting through his courage like a knife. He fixed his gaze on Voldemort, who bowed his head and clasped his skeletal hands over the Elder Wand, his pale knuckles shining in the flickering light. In the fire’s glow, Voldemort appeared almost statue-like: his thin, corpse-like body barely moved as he watched, a cruel smirk playing on his lipless mouth. His crimson eyes gleamed coldly, radiating a chilling satisfaction as he revelled in the pain he inflicted on Harry and his friends.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVnTIG0gewr

Harry lowered his gaze and found Nagini coiling heavily at Voldemort’s feet, her thick, muscular body gleaming with an oily sheen in the firelight. The monstrous snake fixed her yellow eyes on Hagrid, unblinking and brimming with malevolent hunger. She flicked her tongue, tasting the tense air, and shifted restlessly from time to time, her scales rustling over the dead leaves. She wrapped her coils protectively around Voldemort’s ankles, and her tail twitched, sensing danger. Instinctively, Harry moved his hand towards his wand, eager to act quickly and kill the snake. Yet he knew he would achieve nothing; the odds overwhelmed him, Death Eaters stood ready for violence, and any impulsive move would bring disaster.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFrsSgST1sI

Harry ducked swiftly, narrowly avoiding detection as Yaxley strode confidently into the clearing. The Senior Death Eater’s black robes billowed behind him in the gusts stirred by his determined stride. Yaxley wore a serious expression, jaw clenched and sharp eyes fixed ahead as he approached Voldemort’s commanding figure. He reached the centre of the gathering, paused, and bowed deeply—his posture displaying both respect and a subtle hint of anxiety beneath his stiff exterior. Leaning forward, he whispered just for the Dark Lord, ‘No sign of him, my Lord.’77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7x22PDIXav

Voldemort slowly nodded and fixed his gaze on the restless flames flickering in the centre of the clearing. ‘I thought he would come,’ he whispered, his voice barely rising above the crackling fire. He deliberately turned away from the fire and the circle of Death Eaters, his movements slow and weary, as though patience and unfulfilled expectations weighed heavily on his fragile frame. The followers watched him with nervous anticipation, their tense faces betraying uncertainty as they sensed the frustration simmering beneath his composed exterior. He spoke even more softly, his voice thin with restrained anger, and irritation tightened his lips into a pale, bloodless line. ‘I was, it seems... mistaken,’ he murmured, pausing mid-step as admitting this made him shudder briefly. For a moment, Voldemort appeared diminished—he nursed a wounded pride and faltered in his composure.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS0SFE8WqOL

Harry stepped out from the trees at last, refusing to delay any longer. His shoes crunched softly on the leaf-covered ground, announcing his presence before he spoke. He held himself upright, chin raised and shoulders squared, masking the tremble in his hands and the pounding of his heart. ‘You weren’t,’ he declared confidently, his voice steady despite the swirl of emotions, stopping at the clearing’s edge while everyone turned to look at him. 77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR7PO6qifKx

For a brief moment, the world held its breath: the Death Eaters stiffened, snapping their eyes towards him; Voldemort narrowed his red eyes in expectation, and silence pressed down, broken only by the crackling flames and Nagini’s distant, restless hiss. Bathed in fire and moonlight, Harry stood alone, defiant against the gathered shadows, with all eyes fixed on him as they waited for the next move in this deadly clash.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9ojBMMWSF7

Hagrid fiercely fought his captors, straining his large frame as he tried to break free. He bulged his strong arms against the thick ropes that bound him, making his muscles ripple under his battered coat as he heaved and twisted with all his strength. The Death Eaters struggled to hold him; their boots skidded over the ground while Hagrid thrashed, his wild hair flying and his face flushing with fury and fear. His loud voice echoed through the clearing, filled with panic and shock as he shouted, ‘HARRY! NO! WHAT’RE YEH DOIN’ ‘ERE!?’ Desperation filled his words, and his warning rang out with fear for Harry’s safety. Hagrid’s deep bellow resonated through the night, blending outrage and protective terror, as he gouged furrows in the earth with his boots, leaving himself breathless but unyielding.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbfMDbK2lw4

Yaxley raised his wand and pointed it directly at Hagrid, acting quickly to stop the chaos. ‘Quiet!’ he ordered decisively, his tone firm. He flicked his wrist with swift, practised precision, sending out a pale beam of light that sliced through the smoky air. The spell struck Hagrid dead centre in the chest with a muffled thud, silencing him instantly. Hagrid’s frantic protests stopped abruptly; he kept his mouth open as if he were shouting in silence. He dropped to his knees and trembled as the magic took hold, unable to speak despite straining to shout. Frustration and fear showed clearly on Hagrid’s face as his bushy eyebrows knitted together and he stared helplessly at Yaxley, twisting his features in an effort to break the spell. He strained against the ropes that bound him, tightening them further, but only the crackle of the fire and the mocking snickers of the Death Eaters disturbed the quiet clearing, as they watched Hagrid’s voice fade and his spirit weaken.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYMm5CHEowa

Harry glared furiously at Voldemort, his eyes blazing with rage beneath the dim firelight. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and he tensed his jaw as he fought to control the storm of emotion raging inside him. For a fleeting moment, the pain, grief, and fear he had endured over the years threatened to overcome him. Still, he forced himself to concentrate, determined to reveal no trace of vulnerability to Voldemort. Amid the turmoil, he kept Hagrid at the forefront of his mind—watching his loyal friend bound and silenced made Harry feel helpless and guilty, a deep ache twisting in his chest.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPlYrIoekHf

Harry tightened his grip on the cool, smooth Resurrection Stone, hope flickering desperately in his mind. The stone’s coldness pressed into his palm, a stark reminder of those he had lost and the guidance he sought. Yet reason clashed with longing, and he deliberately let go, allowing the stone to slip softly and almost reverently from his fingers. It landed silently on the ground, its descent nearly unnoticed in the tense clearing, while Harry fervently hoped Voldemort’s attention remained elsewhere.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLsvLvICHqB

Harry summoned every ounce of courage, inhaled slowly and steadily as the icy air burned in his lungs, and forced himself to advance. Firelight shone on him, casting deep shadows across his determined features and exposing the raw defiance in his eyes. His heart thudded loudly, but he squared his shoulders, lifted his head high, and strode into the clearing, deliberately exposing himself to the enemy’s gaze. The warmth from the flames sharply contrasted with the chill running down his spine, yet he stood his ground unwaveringly beneath Voldemort’s watchful eyes and those of the assembled Death Eaters.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡj6PzEueTjm

Bellatrix Lestrange shattered the uneasy silence in the clearing with a sharp, cackling laugh, cutting through the tension like broken glass. Wild black hair tumbled in tangled waves around her pale, gaunt face as she fixed Harry with a keen, hungry gaze—her dark eyes gleamed with unhinged excitement and a mad, feverish spark. She shifted slightly on her toes, clenching her wand in one hand while she gripped her robes with the other, barely able to contain her manic energy. Bellatrix curled her lips into a gloating, predatory smile and shifted her focus from Harry to Voldemort, her anticipation almost tangible; she thrived on the charged moment, drawing strength from the prospect of violence and pain. Every fibre of her being craved the upcoming confrontation, and she trembled with eager delight. Harry, disgusted by her, deliberately avoided her eyes and the twisted satisfaction on her face. He forced himself to focus on Voldemort, determined not to give Bellatrix the reaction she desperately wanted.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx6m13y1woO

Voldemort drew closer, and the flickering firelight illuminated his unnaturally pale face, throwing the hollows of his cheeks and the snake-like slits of his nostrils into sharp relief. He moved slowly and deliberately, savouring the moment. Shadows danced across his waxy skin, making his crimson eyes shimmer with malicious intent. He slowly tilted his head to one side and let a cruel, predatory smile spread across his thin lips, mocking in its purpose. ‘Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived,’ he said in a quiet, derisive tone, his voice oily with contempt, dripping with venom.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvyNSFWXy9J

Voldemort paused for what felt like an eternity, then slowly tilted his head the other way, fixing his unblinking gaze on Harry’s determined face as he assessed the young wizard’s resolve. He gripped his wand with his cold, bone-like hands, his knuckles standing out stark against his pale skin. Unspoken threat hung thickly in the air, the silence broken only by the crackle of flames and Nagini’s steady hiss behind the defensive line of Death Eaters. Voldemort’s smile widened, a faint glint of his teeth visible as he straightened to his full, intimidating height, his silhouette looming even more ominously in the flickering firelight. In a soft, chilling whisper, he said, ‘Come to die,’ his threat lingering like poisonous mist and emphasised by Nagini’s hissing, promising swift retribution.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJlFFq9Z37d

Snape raced through the dense woods, low branches snagging his robes as he pressed towards the clearing. He took purposeful, frantic strides, sinking his boots into the soft, mossy ground cushioned by a thick layer of fallen leaves. Twigs snapped beneath his feet and brambles clawed at his cloak, yet he pushed on, the urgency of his mission driving him through the tangled undergrowth. He slipped behind the same tree that had just sheltered Harry, pressing his back against its rough, gnarled bark. He caught his breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He listened intently to the clearing ahead, picking up the low, threatening murmurs of the Death Eaters, the steady crackling of the campfire, and Harry’s sharp, anxious breaths as he faced Voldemort, exposed and vulnerable.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvHQ0WcCH2Y

Snape peered out, taking in the tense scene: Harry stood tall, outlined by the flickering firelight, defying Voldemort’s cold, predatory stare. The gathered Death Eaters formed a dark semicircle behind them, raising their wands and letting their eyes gleam with anticipation. Nagini coiled protectively near Voldemort’s feet and hissed quietly, her scales shimmering in the shifting light. Every detail struck Snape vividly—the intense emotion on Harry’s face, Voldemort’s cruel smile, and the heavy atmosphere thick with fear and anticipation.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpuWYVu2hLe

Snape realised his time was limited. He steadied himself with a deep breath and felt his heart pounding against his ribs. Each inhalation of the icy air burned his lungs, keeping him anchored in the present. He silently mouthed the spells he planned to cast, preparing himself as he stayed hidden in the shadows. He moved swiftly and silently around the trees, sliding from trunk to trunk. The darkness cloaked him, creating a ghostly aura as he closed the gap to Nagini, determined to reach his target before time ran out and the deadly encounter reached its peak.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3XXquqAkVM

Snape advanced with purpose, placing each foot carefully and silently as he slipped behind the semicircle of Death Eaters escorting Nagini. He blended seamlessly into the shadows cast by the firelight, keeping his breathing shallow and his wand at the ready. With a swift flick and a whispered spell, he unleashed a rapid series of enchantments—each beam of light finding its mark with remarkable precision. He struck the unsuspecting Death Eaters swiftly, freezing them in an instant. Their muscles locked up, shock widened their eyes, and they stiffened, unable to move or speak. In the flickering light, they looked like strange statues, their wands slipping from numb fingers, leaving Nagini exposed and vulnerable. The entire sequence took only seconds, but Snape executed it flawlessly—fast, precise, and utterly silent, a testament to his exceptional skill and unwavering focus.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwFwpyeUaMd

Snape did not hesitate; he cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, making his form shimmer and vanish into the shadows, swallowed by darkness. Cloaked in near-perfect invisibility, he quietly crept closer to the massive serpent, his footsteps muffled by the thick layer of fallen leaves. Anticipation filled the atmosphere, heightening every sound—his own breathing, the faint crackle of flames, and Nagini’s soft, rhythmic hiss as she lay coiled, unaware of the danger approaching her.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvTlVNb7vBe

Snape tightened his grip on the Basilisk fang, feeling its cold, ridged surface press into his palm as he anchored himself for the task ahead. He paused, focusing intently on the narrow, perilous gap separating him from Voldemort’s last Horcrux. His heart hammered in his chest with a frantic, urgent rhythm. Gathering his courage, Snape lifted the fang high above his head, steadying his trembling hand as the blade briefly shimmered in the firelight.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHB46VPZSqP

He quickly and deliberately drove the fang deep into Nagini’s thick, scaled hide. The serpent spasmed violently; she thrashed and writhed in pain, letting out a series of strained, desperate hisses that echoed through the clearing like the last cries of an ancient beast. The ground shook beneath Snape’s feet as Nagini’s massive form twisted and bucked, scattering leaves and sending a chilling shiver through the gathered Death Eaters.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7alElF2YcB

The world seemed to hold its breath for a moment. Then, Nagini shuddered one final time, and her body became motionless—her golden eyes clouded as life left her. Complete silence followed, broken only by the faint crackle of the distant fire and the sound of Snape’s heavy breathing. Nagini, the Dark Lord’s most loyal and deadly companion, lay dead at last.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbimvV670JR

Voldemort screamed in pain, his cry resonating through the woods and shattering the tense silence. The noise startled birds from the treetops into flight. His guttural scream echoed against the trunks, lingering in the cold night air as a dark omen. Snape could not remain and swiftly slipped away, rushing through the trees with urgency. He took every step cautiously yet quickly, his breath catching as he darted from shadow to shadow, his muscles taut with adrenaline. The firelight behind him faded into the darkness of the forest. He pressed on, slipping past tangled brambles and moss-covered roots, determined to put enough distance between himself and the chaos in the clearing. Only when he felt safe did he stop, draw a shaky breath, and glance back. Through a gap in the trees, he caught sight of the confusion and panic, faintly illuminated by the dying fire, with Voldemort’s anguished figure towering over the chaos and an oppressive silence settling over the woods like a shroud.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdkF26RJXL2

As Voldemort’s anguished scream faded into the night, Snape pressed his back against a nearby tree, chest heaving as he fought to regain control after the frantic moment. His pounding heart and the burden of his recent actions weighed heavily on him. His hands trembled, still slick with cold sweat and faint traces of Nagini’s blood.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu7mbjbfoj3

‘Checkmate…’ Snape muttered softly, his voice barely above a breath, carrying the weight of countless sacrifices and struggles. He caught his breath, a subtle yet final declaration of victory in the long, exhausting battle of wits and resolve that had exacted a heavy toll on him. Years of tight tension finally loosened around him, leaving a hollow ache of exhaustion and a bittersweet sense of relief. Snape closed his eyes, darkness enveloping him as each heartbeat slowed and he fully comprehended the enormity of his actions. Relief mingled with fatigue; adrenaline and the dangers of his recent task left every muscle throbbing.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVU7HCr7BnE

‘It’s up to you now, Albus,’ he whispered into the gloom, his words floating upward as if the wind carried them to some distant, unseen presence. In his mind’s eye, he pictured the late Headmaster’s wise, gentle smile, recalling how their secret conversations and the carefully crafted plan had guided his every move. Snape focused on Dumbledore’s unwavering faith—trust that had given him purpose—and recognised that, in this final, desperate act, he had fulfilled his duty. A brief but profound sense of peace settled over him, easing his nerves and granting a moment’s relief from the shadows of guilt and doubt.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPt7Uk3Vcwb

He remained motionless, pressing his back against the tree as the chaos in the clearing gradually faded from immediate concern. At the same time, the world teetered between the feelings of victory and uncertainty. Snape drew a quiet, final breath, opened his eyes to the darkness of the forest, and contemplated the act of passing the torch. Now, Harry held the responsibility—Snape had completed his role in the game. The outcome now rested with the boy who had become a leader before Snape’s very eyes.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIFx8X0ZTxY

Harry gasped sharply as white-hot pain surged through his scar, burning and radiating down his forehead and behind his eyes, blurring his vision. He staggered and clutched his head, the force of his connection to Voldemort making the very air vibrate around him. At that exact moment, Voldemort screamed in agony, clutched his chest, and doubled over, digging his fingers into his robes. His face contorted, veins standing out on his pallid skin, as if something inside him tore itself apart. Confusion flickered across Harry’s face, but his eyes widened in surprise as he looked past Voldemort’s hunched figure. From Nagini’s lifeless body, sprawled on the leaf-strewn ground, a dark, ghostly fragment emerged—swirling and writhing in the cold night air. The shadow-like shape twisted upward, flickering like black fire against the gloom. It pulsed with unnatural energy, struggling to break free, and cast strange shadows across the clearing. For a fleeting moment, it hovered above Nagini—a fragment of Voldemort’s shattered soul, now finally torn loose—silent, sinister, and utterly alone—before it dissipated like mist in the moonlight, leaving an emptiness behind.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5Up9IOoMsN

Pain still overwhelming him, Voldemort anxiously looked up and saw the shadowy wraith hovering above Nagini, its faint form twisting restlessly in the moonlit air. He twisted his face in anger and disbelief, curling his lips to reveal sharp, yellowed teeth as the sickly light reflected off his cold, sweat-drenched brow. Fury and pain tensed every muscle in his body, and his crimson eyes glowed with an unnatural, fiery rage that burned brighter than the fire behind him. ‘You!’ he hissed at Harry, his voice trembling with hatred, sharp and venomous—more like a snake’s rattle than human speech. He gripped his wand so tightly his knuckles turned white, and the tip quivered with restrained power. Voldemort radiated malice, fixing a deadly glare on Harry with an intensity that sought to annihilate his opponent through sheer force of will. Voldemort built his rage to its peak, ready to unleash his fury on the boy who had constantly defied him.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2W7XmvK0Xs

Harry faced the threat with unwavering resolve. He tightened his grip on his wand, his knuckles turning white as the cool, damp air swirled around him. Time slowed; each heartbeat pounded in his ears. He summoned all his courage, prepared himself for what was to come, and accepted it with the calm he had forged through countless battles and acts of sacrifice.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLNl0QRecDW

Voldemort flicked his wand with deadly precision, a swift and practised motion that sliced through the tense atmosphere like a blade. The world erupted in a rush of sound and colour as a brilliant green beam shot forth; the Unforgivable Curse blazed through the darkness, emitting a sickening, unnatural light. The harsh, bright emerald light cast an eerie glow on the haunted faces watching from the edges of the clearing. The beam raced towards Harry, leaving a shimmering trail in its wake. In that fleeting moment, the world seemed to hold its breath one last time.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6ODQwm0ldH

The curse struck Harry squarely in the chest, sending a violent surge of energy crashing through him. Overwhelmed by the force, he felt every thought, memory, and sensation vanish beneath the blinding radiance that engulfed him. The green light blazed with such intensity that it painted the world in shifting emerald hues, wiping out all sound and sight. The luminous grip seized his body, suspending him between pain and numbness, life and death, as reality itself began to dissolve. He experienced only that devastating flash, an all-consuming silence, and the boundless unknown stretching beyond…

A/N: Well, I hope you all enjoyed this second chapter. I really liked the Deathly Hallows Battle of Hogwarts, so I decided to use the elements of it, but not in the exact same way. It needs to be the way I've done it for later chapters to work.

Anyway, let me know what you all think!

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