Voices Beyond the Veil - 9

At the same moment that Harry realized he'd created his own Horcrux, he saw Voldemort's snakelike eyes widen as he was struck in the abdomen by the spell hurled from Harry's wand. The madman's red eyes dimmed as he crumpled to the ground, lifeless. The many transformations that he'd undergone melted away, leaving the ravaged but unmistakably once-handsome face of Tom Riddle – a dead man, and no longer a monster.

The room was utterly silent and still.

Suddenly, Harry saw Snape's bruised and battered face rise from the steps. His eyes weren't quite focused but still held a vindictive gleam. His gaze wandered dispassionately over Voldemort's still form before he warily raised his hands when Harry pointed his wand. Harry could barely make sense of anything, but he was certain that Snape expected to die by his former pupil's hand.

But Harry lowered his wand, gasping in pain.

"There's going to be celebrating and victory speeches, and they'll probably even name a holiday after me," he gasped, slurring his words. "I'm certain I'll hate all of it, but there's one thing that it'll make it all worthwhile – and that's knowing that you're going to hate it more."

Snape scowled, shakily pulling himself to his feet and raising his wand. Harry simply stared, unable to muster the strength to be alarmed.

"While you are most likely right that the deluded fools will heap more unearned glory upon you, it's a pity that you won't be around to hear any of it. How pathetic to survive the great battle, only to be struck down afterwards because you were too weak to raise your wand," he sneered.

Harry expected to see a burning green light hurtle towards him, but instead a rushing mane of bright red hair blocked his vision. He heard the swoosh of a curse before a mass of mucus-covered bats exploded from Snape's nose.

"Expelliarmus," Ginny snarled, and Snape's wand flew into her outstretched hand before she cast a Binding Spell on him. "Silencio," she hissed, cutting off his sneer before it could start. Using her wand, she tightened Snape's bonds until he was gasping with pain.

She then dropped to her knees beside Harry, cradling his bloody head in her lap.

"Oh, Harry, look what he did to you," she said, sniffling and wrapping herself around him like a bandage.

Harry wearily shut his eyes, sinking into the warmth of her embrace. It was over. He'd done it. He could rest at long last.

"Stay with me, Harry," Ginny pleaded.

Harry's eyes fluttered, but his limbs and eyelids felt like lead. He tried to smile but failed. His vision slowly began to dim and finally faded to black, blocking out the voices as the curtain finally stilled.

Harry's world spun momentarily before a sense of cool serenity washed over him. He felt as if he was floating – drifting slowly into the air inside a bubble, swaying haphazardly, yet rising upward. He felt calm and almost disassociated from everyone else in the room. He could see Ginny cradling his broken body, crying and begging him to awake, but he felt no desire to do so. He wasn't entirely certain that he could.

He could see the dead body of Tom Riddle lying nearby, his lifeless eyes still open and staring vacantly ahead. The eyes were no longer red, but brownish in coloring. Harry dispassionately noted that Riddle's hair had gone gray since the last time he'd seen him. He half-expected the prone figure to jump or blink or for his eyes to turn back to red. His stomach churning unpleasantly, Harry turned away.