Hermione and Ron fought bravely, spells being thrown violently in the cold, dirty air. Alongside their friends fellow students, they watched loved ones fall, trying to stay strong in the heat of the battle.
Harry heard maniacal laughter and heavy steps coming his way, the noise growing louder and louder. He knew they were coming for him now.
"Well....Harry Potter. The boy who lived. Come to die."
Harry heard the all too familiar, snake like voice hiss. His body cringed at the hideous sound.
He turned, hot salty tears streaming down his dirty face, to come eye to eye with the horrid beast.
He closed his eyes and braced his body, tensing.
I am ready now.
As the others wand was raised into the cold, harsh air, a vile sound soon pierced the horrid silence.
The voice of the man, if you could even call him that, rang loudly, for all his sick followers to feast on, this moment of what they thought was victory.
A blinding green light followed a deafening crack, flying across the clearing.
Not a second after the words,that struck fear into the hearts of any witch or wizard, were screamed, a young boy hit the hard ground, falling to a crippled lump.
And so falls falls their hero.