Harry felt as though he turned in slow motion;
he saw McGonagall, Kingsley and Slughorn blasted backwards, flailing and writhing
through the air,
as Voldemort's fury at the fall of his last, best lieutenant exploded with the force of a bomb.
Voldemort raised his wand and directed it at Molly Weasley.
'Protego!' roared Harry, and the Shield Charm expaneded in the middle of the Hall,
and Voldemort stared around for the source
as Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak at last.
'Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard?
Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?'
'Accidents!' screamed Voldemort, but still he did not strike,
and the watching crowd was frozen as if petrified,
and of the hundreds in the Hall,
nobody seemd to breathe but they two.
'You won't be killing anyone else tonight,' said Harry
as they circled, and stared into each other's eyes,
green into red.
'You won't be able to kill any of them, ever again.
Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you hurting these people -'
'But you did not!'
'- I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding?
You can't torture them. You can't touch them.
You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?'
'If it is not love that will save you this time,' said Voldemort,
'you must believe that you have magic that I do not,
or else a weapon more powerful than mine?'
'I believe both,' said Harry,
and he saw shock flit across the snake-like face,
though it was instantly dispelled; Voldemort began to laugh,
and the sound was more frightening than his screams; humourless and insane,
it echoed around the silent Hall.
'You dare- ?' said Voldemort again.
'Yes, I dare,' said Harry, 'because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all.
It's backfired on you, Riddle.'
Voldemort's hand was trembling on the Elder Wand and Harry gripped Draco's very tightly.
The moment, he knew, was seconds away.
'That wand still isn't working properly for you, because you murdered the wrong person.
Severus Snape was never the truemaster of the Elder Wand.
He never defeated Dumbledore.'
'So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?' whispered Harry.
'Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does...
I am the true master of the Elder Wand.'
A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them,
as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window.
The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort's was suddenling flaming blur. Harry head the high voice shriek,
as he, too, yelled his best hope to the heavens pointing Draco's wand:
'Avada Kedavra!'
'Expelliarmus!'