MTL - 94 Diagon Alley-Chapter 263 Festival

, hard ground, felt the corners of his glasses pierced at his temples when he hit the ground. There wasn't a spot on his body that didn't hurt, and the place where the Killing Curse hit was like being wounded by an iron fist. He didn't move, he kept his landing position completely, his right arm was turned outward at an awkward angle, and his mouth was wide open.

He thought he could hear the cheers of victory and their celebration of his death, but the air was full of hurried footsteps, whispers and eager whispers.

"Master...Master..."

It was Bellatrix's voice, as if speaking to a lover. Harry didn't dare to open his eyes, only letting his other senses explore the situation. He knew his wand was still tucked under his robe because he felt it stuck between his chest and the ground. There is a soft feeling in the belly, indicating that the invisibility cloak is still there and hidden well.

"Host..."

"No problem," said Voldemort's voice.

More footsteps: Several people retreating from the same spot. Eager to see what was going on, Harry opened his eyes slightly by a slit.

Voldemort appears to be rising from the ground. Several Death Eaters fled from him hastily, returning to the crowd around the clearing. Only Bellatrix remained behind, kneeling beside Voldemort.

Harry closed his eyes again, thinking about what he saw. The Death Eaters had just gathered around Voldemort who seemed to have fallen. Something must have happened when Voldemort hit Harry with the Killing Curse. Did Voldemort faint too? It seems so. They were both in a coma for a short time, and now they are both awake...

"Master, let me—"

"I don't need help," said Voldemort coldly. Harry couldn't see, but he could imagine Bellatrix withdrew his hand to help. "That boy... is he dead?"

The clearing was silent. No one approached Harry, but he felt all eyes on him. These glances seemed to pin him firmly to the ground, and he was terrified that his fingers or eyelids would shake.

"You," said Voldemort, followed by a thud and a short scream, "go check it out. Tell me if he's dead."

Harry did not know who Voldemort sent to verify. He could only lie there waiting to be examined, his heart pounding disobediently, but he also noticed—though it didn't give him much consolation—that Voldemort didn't dare approach him, and Voldemort suspected that the plan had gone awry...

A pair of hands, a pair of hands that Harry didn't expect to be so soft, touched Harry's face, opened his eyelids, and reached under his shirt to probe his chest, tried Try his heartbeat. Harry could hear the woman's rapid breathing and felt her long hair tickling on her face. He knew the woman could feel his life slam against his ribs.

"Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?"

The whisper was barely audible. The woman's lips were only an inch away from his ears, and she buried her head low, her long hair blocking his face, making it invisible to those around her.

"Yes," he answered in a faint voice.

He felt the hand on his chest tighten and the nails pinched him. Then the hand shrank back. She sat up straight.

"He's dead!" Narcissa Malfoy exclaimed to those around her.

Then they shouted, and then began to cheer and stomp, Harry saw red and silver lights shoot into the air through his eyelids to celebrate the victory.

Last Battle

Harry lay on the ground and continued to play dead, but he knew it. Narcissa knew there was only one way she could get into Hogwarts and find her son, and that was to go in with the occupying army. She no longer cared whether Voldemort was victorious.

"See?" Voldemort screeched amid the commotion, "Harry Potter died at my hands, and now no one alive can threaten me! Look! Gouging out the bone!"

Harry knew for a long time that this was going to happen, knowing that Voldemort would not let him lie on the ground refreshed on the jungle floor, and must humiliate him in every possible way to prove his victory. Harry's body was lifted into the air, he used all his willpower to keep himself weak, he thought it would hurt, but it didn't. He was thrown into the air once, twice, three times, his glasses fell off, and he felt his wand slip to the side under his robe, but he kept making himself seem limp and lifeless. The last time he fell to the ground, jeers and laughter rang through the clearing.

"Now," said Voldemort, "let's go to the castle and show them what their hero has become. Who's going to take the corpse? No—wait—"

There was another burst of laughter, and after a while, Harry felt the ground shaking under him.

"You hold him," said Voldemort, "he's more prominent and nicer in your arms, doesn't he? Hagrid, pick up your little friend. And glasses—put him on Glasses—must make him recognizable—"

Someone put Harry's glasses into his face, the action was deliberately rough, but the big hands that held him up in the air were extraordinarily gentle. In Hagrid's cradle-like embrace, Harry could feel Hagrid's arms shaking as he sobbed violently, and big tears splashed on him. Harry didn't dare to use gestures or words to show Hagrid that everything was okay. Finish.

"Go," said Voldemort. Hagrid stumbled forward and left the Forbidden Forest through the thick trees. The branches tangled in Harry's hair and robes, and he lay motionless, mouth open limply, eyes closed. In the darkness, the Death Eaters gathered around, Hagrid closed his eyes and cried loudly, and no one took a close look at Harry Potter's exposed neck for a pulse beating...

The two giants stumbled behind the Death Eaters, and Harry could hear the woods creaking and falling to the ground as they passed. The noise they made was so loud that the birds flew into the air screaming, and even the jeers of the Death Eaters were drowned out. The victorious team continued on towards the empty playground, and after a while Harry felt the darkness lighten through his closed eyelids, and knew that the trees were starting to thin out.

"Bane!"

Hagrid let out a sudden roar, so startled that Harry almost opened his eyes. "You're satisfied now, uh, you don't resist, you cowardly scoundrels, eh? Are you happy? Harry Potter—dead—dead..."

Hagrid couldn't go on, and cried again. Harry didn't know how many centaurs were watching their team, and he didn't dare open his eyes. Several Death Eaters were shouting insults at the centaurs behind them. After another moment, Harry felt the air get fresh and knew he had reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Stop."

Harry guessed that Hagrid must have been forced to obey Voldemort's orders as he staggered. A chill hung over Harry, and Harry heard the harsh breathing of the Dementors patrolling the outskirts of the forest. They couldn't do anything with him anymore. The fact that he is still alive is like a fire burning in his heart, a magic weapon to ward off evil spirits, and it seems that his father's stag has been guarding him in his heart.

Someone walked by Harry, Harry knew it was Voldemort himself, because he spoke immediately, and the voice was magnified many times by magic, and it resounded throughout the playground, shaking Harry's heart The eardrum is sore.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed on the run, and when you gave your life for him, he ran for himself. We bring his body to you for Prove that your hero is indeed dead."

"We won. You've lost a lot of resistance. I have more Death Eaters than you, and the boy who survived is finished. No more wars. Who If you resist, men, women and children will be shot and killed, and all their families will be executed. Now, walk out of the castle and kneel before me, and you will be forgiven. Your parents, children, brothers and sisters will also be forgiven and continue to live. Go down, and you join me in the new world we're going to build together."

The playground and the castle were silent. Voldemort was too close for Harry to open his eyes again.

"Come here," said Voldemort, and Harry heard him go forward, and Hagrid was forced to follow. Harry opened his eyes a little slit, and saw Voldemort striding ahead of them, and the serpent Nagini had left his magical cage and was wrapped around his shoulders. However, Harry couldn't have pulled out the wand hidden under his robes, so he would have been spotted by the Death Eaters, who were on either side, walking through the darkening night...

"Harry," Hagrid snapped, "Oh, Harry... Harry..."

Harry closed his eyes tightly again. He knew they were approaching the castle, and he pricked up his ears, discerning the message of life in the castle amid the revelry of the Death Eaters and the heavy footsteps.

"Stop."

The Death Eaters stopped. Harry heard them spread out facing the open door to the school. Although he closed his eyes, he could vaguely feel the red light, which must be the light from the hallway. He waited. Those for whom he had died would see him lying dead in Hagrid's arms at any moment.

"No!"

The scream was terrifying, because he never expected or dreamed that Professor McGonagall could make such a sound. He heard another woman laugh loudly, knowing that Bellatrix was gloating at McGonagall's despair. He squinted again, and saw that the open door was crowded, and the survivors of the battle had come to the front steps to face the Conqueror, witnessing Harry's death.