Harry found himself waking up groggy; fighting off the fatigue was taking a while. As he was waking up, he tried to remember what was going on. The last thing he remembered was running through the maze, when suddenly the floor had exploded in front of him and a man he had never seen before climbed out. In his surprise, Harry wasn't fast enough to react when the man had sent a stunner at him.
Well, that explained why he was having so much trouble waking up; he hadn't been asleep, he was fighting off a Stupefy. He tried to take in his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was he couldn't move. Judging by the tight bands he could feel around his chest, he was tied up. The second thing he noticed was he was standing up, not laid on the ground, and there was something hard at his back. Thus, he was tied to something, not just tied up.
The third thing he noticed was voices. "You did well, young Barty. You were right, using Wormtail's knowledge of the secret passages and having him remake that map he and his friends made in school was inspired." The low raspy voice of Voldemort sounded all too close.
"Master, I'm glad you are pleased. I'm just happy that it means I can stand by you tonight as you are reborn."
"You have served me well, and you will have a place of honour in my rebirth ritual tonight." He then took a deep breath. "Wormtail, bring me before Potter. It is time our guest stopped being so rude to sleep at my little party." He laughed at his own joke.
"Yes my lord." Wormtail's voice answered. There was some shuffling noise, and the next thing Harry knew it was like someone had hit him with a shot of pure adrenaline and the last of the Stupefy spell suddenly vanished. Harry's eyes snapped wide open, and standing in front of him was Wormtail, carrying what at first looked like a baby swaddled in blankets. The biggest difference, however, was that the baby was pointing a wand at Harry and had Voldemort's face on it.
"Well good morning Harry, you don't mind if I call you Harry, do you? After all, I hear you're not afraid of using my name, so it's only fair to return the courtesy." It was more than a little disturbing to hear the voice of Voldemort come from the body of a child
Harry really didn't care what Voldemort called him. He did consider snarling off, but decided that while he was bound like this it was probably a bad idea. "Sure Tom, you can call me Harry." Well, apparently Harry's brain and mouth weren't communicating well at the moment.
"I see Dumbledore has been telling tales." Voldemort laughed derisively at Harry. He considered correcting Voldemort, but finally the message of 'wait until you can fight back' had reached Harry's mouth. "Now, it's a special night tonight. It was going to be a surprise party, but that pathetic fool Crouch had to spoil the surprise. You will get to be a part of my rebirth. We will begin shortly, and you will finally understand the power you have set yourself against." Voldemort then turned to Wormtail and said, "It is time."
"Yes my lord. Right away my lord." Wormtail stepped away, and with him out of the way Harry got his first glimpse of a massive cauldron that looked big enough he could use it as a bath. It had some type of potion in it that was clear like water, but it had a slight glow to it. There were green flames underneath the Cauldron and steam was coming off the surface of the strange potion.
Wormtail unwrapped the bundle that was Voldemort, and after discarding the blankets gently lowered the baby sized monster into the potion. While they were doing that no one was looking at Harry, so he took the opportunity to try and escape. The first thing he did was make sure he was still wearing the ring the Unspeakable gave him. He was, so he pushed a little power into the ring and activated the first of its functions. Hopefully there was now a signal telling the D.M.L.E. where he was. Unfortunately, the first power in the ring was easily blocked by wards. The full ability of the ring required Harry to aim, something that was rather difficult for him to do while tied to whatever stone thing was behind him.
While Harry struggled unsuccessfully to free himself from the ropes, the potion in the cauldron had changed and was now emitting a bright crimson glow, and the man who Harry guessed was Crouch Jr. started to do things. He pointed his wand at Harry, who flinched, but instead of shooting a spell at him there was a stirring beneath Harry's feat. What looked like a human leg bone burst free from the ground and hovered over the cauldron. A few more flicks of Crouch's wand, and the bone turned into a powder that slowly rained down into the cauldron. "Bone of the father, unknowingly given. You shall provide the structure for the rebirth of your son."
Next Crouch pulled out a large knife. Harry had read of such knives in his history of magic books; it was a ritual knife known as an atheme. Junior held his left arm over the cauldron and yelled, as if psyching himself up, "Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed. I will provide the energy for my master's rebirth!" Then he swung the knife down and screamed as the knife cut through the flesh and bone as if it was nothing but butter. The severed hand fell into the cauldron, and the potion started to bubble and fizz.
Then Crouch practically ran towards Harry with the knife in his hands. Harry was convinced the next step was Crouch sacrificing Harry's life to restore Voldemort. He tried to pull free of his bonds, but he knew it was worthless. In that moment, Harry wished he had gotten to say goodbye to Hermione, but she had refused to let him. Harry hoped she and Charlus would look after each other from now on; they were going to need the support the other could give.
However, Harry was surprised when Junior simply poked the knife into Harry's arm, maybe half an inch deep, before pulling it out and holding a bottle over the wound to collect the blood. "Blood of the enemy, forcefully stolen, you will provide the magic for your foe's new life." He quickly walked over to the cauldron and poured three drops of Harry's blood into the potion.
Immediately, the light the potion was giving off turned white and got bright, like "light of the sun" bright. It was too bright for Harry's eyes that had adjusted to the darkness, and he had to look away. The potion flash boiled and turned into a cloud of steam, and Harry could hear the sound of someone or something climbing out of the cauldron. He just knew Voldemort was back. "Wormtail, robe me." Harry opened his eyes again and saw that the bright light was gone, and a very naked Voldemort was standing there caressing his new fully formed adult body. Wormtail quickly did as he was bidden and dressed Voldemort in a set of black robes, and handed the still bald and noiseless Voldemort his wand.
"Master, please," Junior begged, holding out the stump of his arm to Voldemort. Voldemort took hold of Junior's arm, and Harry realised he must have been using magic because he gripped it tight enough that the bleeding stopped. With a quick wave of the psychopaths wand, the blood was all gone. However, Voldemort didn't do anything to help his subordinate, instead he pulled the wound up close to his face and examined the severed flesh. "I'm impressed, Barty. The cut is completely clean; you didn't hesitate or flinch at all. You have earned your reward."
Voldemort raised his wand again and whirled it through the air. A thin stream of what looked like molten silver trailed the tip of the wand, shining in the moonlight. The liquid silver came together in a blob that hung there floating in the air for a few moments, before it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand. It then floated down and bonded itself upon Junior's bloody stump.
-ϟϟϟ-
Charlus stormed into the Ministry, Hermione in tow behind him. Ron had tried to come as well, but as Charlus wasn't his guardian there was no way Professor McGonagall could have let him go with Charlus as they stormed out of the stadium. Charlus didn't bother with the welcome witch on duty and just walked right past the check-in point. It said a lot about the Ministry's security that, even though they were told of the attempt to restore Voldemort, there was still no additional security. He was going to unload on Director Bones or Minister Fudge for that later. It would depend on whose fault it was, Bones for not ordering it or Fudge for countermanding it.
The two of them stepped into a waiting lift and Charlus practically punched the button for the D.M.L.E. The lift was agonisingly slow and it unfortunately gave Hermione's brain a chance to think about things she was specifically not thinking about until now. "Uncle Charlus, do you think Harry's okay?" They had heard from the D.M.L.E. that the squad of Aurors hadn't left to rescue Harry yet; they both wanted answers and it was faster to come right to the source than try to play tag with Floo calls and Patroni messages.
"I honestly think he is fine for now. Rituals take time, I doubt Harry is in any real danger just yet. But Voldemort won't let him live once Harry has fulfilled whatever purpose he has in mind. If we can get to him quickly enough, then we have every chance to save him," Charlus said.
They both knew Charlus was forcing himself to be optimistic, as Harry hadn't activated the beacon yet. That meant either someone had removed it or for whatever reason Harry couldn't activate it. Neither of those things were good for them being able to find Harry.
The lift doors opened into the wide open space of the D.M.L.E. and there was chaos going on around them.
"The beacon has been lit! We have a level one activation!"
"Finally! Can you track it?"
"Negative! Looks like it's behind a set of wards! The best I can give you is somewhere in Yorkshire!"
"Damn it you bloody Unspeakable, that's not good enough. Can you clear up the signal at all?"
"I'm trying. But don't hold your breath!"
Charlus and Hermione both felt some measure of panic evaporate. Harry was alive and he had just activated the ring he was given. That meant there was still hope. Charlus looked around and spotted a man who looked like he was in charge and walked up to him. "What's going on to find my grandson?" He demanded in a way that said he expected an answer that was already late in being provided because he needed to ask the question.
"Warlock Potter. Your heir has activated the first stage of the ring, but we believe he is behind wards so it's stopping us from getting an exit location. We are monitoring for the second level activation, but as you know that one, while more powerful and much easier to track, is also rather flashy. My thought is that young Mr. Potter is currently being watched and can't fully activate his ring without giving away what it is. We are also monitoring the trace reports of any mention of Mr. Potter," The Auror explained. "Once we have a lock on his location, I have a full squad of Aurors who will go get him and put an end to the Dark Lord before he returns to full power."
"As Warlock of the House of Potter, I am executing my right to go as well," Charlus stated. It was an old right that was almost never used anymore. The title of Warlock originally meant that they were the member of a House who had the power to declare wars and blood feuds. Later, when they formed the Ministry, the warlocks were given the power to vote on who the Minister of Magic was, in exchange that if there was a war that involved Magical Britain the Ministry could call on the warlocks to fight. In all the by laws around that, there was one that said a warlock had the right to go on any mission that involved the defence of the realm. Because Voldemort would restart a civil war, the mission to save Harry technically qualified.
The Auror immediately started to protest. "Sir, I highly recommend you stay behind. We can't guarantee your safety and our people are highly trained."
The Auror would have said more but a look from Charlus silenced him. "My grandson, the last blood family I have, is out there being held by the bastard who murdered my son. As for highly trained, I fought on the front lines in the Grindelwald conflict. I know your Auror playbook because it was rewritten after the Grindelwald war to account for our experiences. So if you think I'm going to sit here and sip tea while worrying myself sick, you have another thing coming. I am going with you to save my boy." Charlus made it very clear that that was the last he would say on the subject.
"I'm going too!" Hermione declared.
"NO!" Both men declared in unison. Hermione was about to protest, but Charlus spoke first. "Hermione, I know you understand the danger to you and that to rescue Harry you would gladly take that risk. That's why I strongly hope that you and Harry stay together. However, you being there will be a greater risk to Harry. Not because you can't handle yourself, you can, but because Harry will be more concerned about keeping you safe than getting out himself. Can you honestly tell me Harry wouldn't try to save you at his expense? With you here, Harry won't hesitate to leave when given the option. Also, I promised your parents I would do my best to protect you, and letting you go running into a fight with a Dark Lord seems to run against that promise, don't you think?" He then did something he had never done before and pulled Hermione into a hug. "I promise I will bring him home."
Hermione was a little surprised by the hug but quickly hugged Charlus back. It felt just like when her own grandfather used to hug her before he died, and she couldn't keep from letting out a few tears.
-ϟϟϟ-
Voldemort finished giving his big 'I'm back' speech to his Death Eaters before turning to Harry and saying, "And here we have the boy they all thought could defeat me. Nothing but a boy at my mercy."
"Oh that's bullshit and you know it," Harry snapped. This was a desperate plan, but it could be his only chance. At least if it fails it would probably be a quick Killing Curse rather than a drawn-out Cruciatus.
"What?" Voldemort snapped back at him. "You think you can fight me when you're tied up like that? Go ahead Potter, I'll give you the first shot." All the Death Eaters around Harry were laughing now.
"But it was Junior over there who caught me, using information he got from Wormtail. Where were you in this equation? Soiling yourself and begging Wormtail to clean you because you couldn't even manage to do that yourself." Harry was laying it on thick; this was an all or nothing strategy. "You could kill me right now, true. There is nothing I can do to stop you. But you and I both know that's not defeating me. Worse yet, everyone here will know the big bad Dark Lord can't handle a teenager. Who knows, maybe one of them who has some real skill will decide someone who can't handle a teenager in a fair fight needs to be replaced."
Harry waited and wondered just what Voldemort was going to do now. There was a fair chance he was about to be killed in a fit of pure pique. Harry could see the rage warring with the fear on Voldemort's face. A part of him wanted to strike Harry down right there and then, but he was afraid to. Harry must have hit a lucky nerve when he questioned how the Death Eaters would see him if he couldn't handle Harry himself.
Eventually the fear seemed to win out and Voldemort barked at Pettigrew, "Wormtail, return Potter's wand to him and untie him. If Potter thinks he can defeat me in single combat, then it would be quite rude of me to let him go join his parents still under such a delusion." He then turned to the rest of the Death Eaters. "No one is to interfere, do you understand me? No one. This will be a duel between Lord Voldemort, descendant and heir of Salazar Slytherin himself, and a boy with delusions of adequacy."
"That's Harry James Potter, Heir to the House of Potter, successors to the line of Peverell, who can trace my magical ancestry back beyond the age of Merlin," Harry snarled back. Normally he didn't like to use such a grandiose way of referring to himself, but considering the company around him it felt right.
Wormtail released Harry from the grave he was standing on and pressed his wand into his hand. Harry cast a quick healing spell on his still slowly bleeding arm. It wasn't enough to heal the wound, but it did scab over the cut and stop any more bleeding. If he survived this duel, then he was going to need to get a healer to look at it. "You know, we could make this more interesting," Harry said, hoping to buy himself a few moments to stretch out a little, as being tied to a grave unable to move left you a little on the stiff side.
"Oh, and how's that?" Voldemort asked, seeing Harry stretching out but deciding a few moments to do that wouldn't make any difference.
"How about a bet? I bet, say, ten thousand galleons against the knowledge of the spell you used to fix Junior's hand that I will win the duel. I'm good for the money." Harry really wanted that spell as it could save Victor's career, and if he lost then he'd be dead anyways so he would have no need of the money.
"And how do you propose we do that?" Voldemort sounded interested. Harry guessed that ten thousand galleons would go a long way for someone who had nothing but what his followers gave him.
"Simple. I write out a signed bankers draft to one of your followers, of your choice of course. I keep that in my pocket, and if I die you can collect it off my corpse. You will also write down the instructions of the spell and everything needed, and I'll keep that in my pocket as well. Because if I win, I have no doubt your minions over there will immediately try to kill me, so collecting it from you will be next to impossible. But if I die, you can just get the instructions back anyway."
Voldemort stopped for a moment and really thought about it. Stakes on a duel were actually traditional outside of the professional circuit. And if Harry didn't miss his guess, then the spell he had asked for wasn't a massive strategic advantage that Voldemort would be worried about losing. Sure, he would reward his followers by fixing them up if he felt they deserved it, but Voldemort seemed like the type to consider the spell mostly useless.
"I accept. Nott, you always used to have parchment and a quill on you, do you still?" Voldemort asked one of the masked idiots. Harry was actually surprised this was working, he had considered it a long shot at best but when he saw the opportunity to help Victor he had taken it.
"Yes, my lord." The man pulled parchment, quill, and ink from inside his robes for both Harry and Voldemort. It was weird for Harry to stand in the middle of a bunch of terrorists who all wanted to murder him, writing out a bank transfer that would pay his murderer 10,000 galleons if he died. He asked Voldemort who he should make the draft out to, and had to keep from laughing as he was told Lucius Malfoy. Even if he lost, there was going to be irrefutable proof that Malfoy was a Death Eater when he withdrew the gold. Either Voldemort had missed that fact in the face of what was almost fifty thousand pounds, or he realised the position he was putting Malfoy in and he just didn't care.
It took Voldemort longer to write out the specifics of the spell, but when he was done he floated the parchment over to Harry, who put both documents in his robes pocket. "Right, now no more procrastination, it is time we proved for everyone here who is the better wizard."
Harry couldn't think of anything to say either way, so he just nodded. They moved a little off from where the cauldron was so it wouldn't get in the way, and the Death Eaters formed a ring around them, probably to stop Harry trying to run away.
Voldemort stood about forty maybe forty-five feet away from Harry, and they both had their wands in their hands and bowed to their opponent. Harry did this because the rules of dealing had been ingrained into him by Sirius, who had at one point thought that a duel was a high possibility for one of the tasks and he had not wanted Harry to embarrass himself by not knowing the forms.
"So you bow to your death, Potter?" Voldemort tried to mock Harry and put him off his game. This was something Sirius had also warned him about.
"I bow because I have honour. Not something a psychopath who tries to murder unarmed kids knows anything about." Harry answered deceptively calmly. Inside, his emotions were roaring. He was about to fight the man that had murdered his parents, specifically killing his unarmed mother in front of him while she did nothing but beg for mercy, not for herself but for her child. Harry was going to kill him. He wasn't drowning in his anger like Voldemort wanted though, lost in the red fog and unable to think clearly. No, Harry's rage was like a storming ocean whereas Harry stood in a steady little boat, safe in the eye where the waters were deceptively calm.
"Fulmenactus!" He opened with the same lightning spell he had used on the dragon. Grandfather Charlus had said it was a deadly spell and only to be used in the most dire of circumstances, and if this didn't qualify then Harry didn't know what did. Lightning burst forth from the tip of his wand and shot straight at Voldemort. For an instant, Harry felt he may actually have a chance of winning, but with an almost causal flick of his wand Voldemort called up a shield. Harry's spell splashed harmless against the magical barrier.
"Did you really think this would be that easy, Potter? The story of how you killed the dragon was in all the papers and on the wireless. Did you really think I wouldn't be prepared for something so obvious?" His tone was mocking as he taunted Harry.
Harry, though, saw this for the opportunity it was. His lightning spell had Voldemort holding up a shield charm to stop it. While Harry was forming lightning, there was nothing Voldemort could do but stand there. Of course the shield charm was much easier to cast than the lightning spell, and Harry would run out of magic long before Voldemort did if he kept this up. However, he only needed a few seconds. He raised his other fist into the air, the ring he had been given from the Unspeakables gleaming in the light of Harry's spell, and he pumped a large amount of magic into the ring. The ring started to glow, brighter and brighter, until it was just as bright as the lightning he was still channelling. The light then drew itself into a ball that shot up into the air like a shot from a flare gun. However, this ball didn't fall slowly back to the ground, but hung in the air maybe half a mile up, lighting up the graveyard they were in like it was late twilight.
"What was that?" Voldemort demanded.
Harry couldn't help but smirk. "You'll see." Then he ended his lightning spell and dove behind one of the grave stones.
-ϟϟϟ-
"The beacon is lit!" The shout ran through the D.M.L.E. "Triangulation now… it looks to be just outside a small village in Yorkshire called Little Hangleton, in or around the graveyard!"
Immediately a bunch of people sprang into action. Twenty-one Aurors immediately formed into three groups of seven, and Charlus joined the group nearest him. The three groups all grabbed hold of a loop of rope, and while still holding it in their left hand turned out away from it, wands in their hands ready to cast the moment they landed if they needed to. With three cries of "Portus!" turning the ropes into portkeys, they all vanished from the D.M.L.E.
Charlus landed with the seven other Aurors and opened the one eye he had closed before the jump. It was an old trick he had picked up when jumping into a fight blind, close one eye first. That way one eye is well adjusted to a bright room and one is adjusted to the dark, so that when you landed you weren't completely blinded for a few seconds while your eyes adjusted. The beacon was in the air about six hundred feet to his left. He couldn't see the other teams of aurors, but that was to be expected in a perfectly executed drop; they were all supposed to appear equally spaced around the target. It was rare that it went perfectly, but he suspected they were nearby and he just didn't have a good line of sight on them yet.
"Okay everyone, anti-Portkey and anti-Apparating jinxes in three, two, one," ordered the lead auror in charge of this group. Everyone began casting different versions of those jinxes they were best at. Their spells quickly blanked the area, blocking any kind of magical escape, and were joined by two other clusters of spells all headed for the same target. The other two teams looked just competent.
"Wands free everyone. I want prisoners, but if it's them or you I don't want to have to go see your families. Understood?" The lead Auror gave his matching orders.
There was a chorus of "Sir!" as everyone, including Charlus, acknowledged his order. Technically Charlus wasn't bound to follow his orders, but he had enough experience in his youth to know that going rogue just led to the wrong people getting killed.
The Death Eaters couldn't fail to notice the avalanche of jinxes, and understanding just how screwed they were if they were caught they immediately turned to fight. Charlus ducked behind a nearby tree, pulling a younger Auror with him as green spells started coming their way. A few of the Aurors on reflex had Transfigured the ground in front of them into a wall blocking the incoming Unforgivable curses. Charlus didn't hesitate and shot a "Fulmenactus!" right back at the Death Eaters.
Charlus's spell was on the lower end of the spell's possible power because he didn't want to run out his power too quickly, as they wanted prisoners and it wasn't too difficult to block the spell for a competent wizard, so he didn't want to waste power for it to splash against a shield. The big advantage of this spell was that you could hold the spell for a long time, creating a continuous attack. That's exactly what Charlus did, sweeping it over the group of Death Eaters so that all the one fighting his group had to deal with the spell.
Two Death Eaters didn't raise shields in time, but the rest did. The two went down in a twitching heap, but more importantly the rest stopped firing Killing Curses so they could shield. The Aurors in Charlus's group all took advantage of this and began jumping over the makeshift wall and sprinted towards the graveyard, diving into their own cover where they could fight from.
Charlus wasn't as fast as the Aurors any more and waited for an opportunity to move forward as well, leaning out and casting stunners, bone breakers, and bludgeoning hexes as much as he could. He didn't think he had hit anyone directly, but at least one Death Eater who had been blocking a spell from Charlus had been hit by an Auror's spell from a different angle.
As Charlus provided covering fire, he could see Harry and Voldemort fighting in the middle of the graveyard. Harry was dodging in and out of the graves while bolts of light flashed between the pair. Charlus was both proud and absolutely terrified. Harry was in a life or death duel with Voldemort, one of the most dangerous people alive, but was actually holding his own.
Charlus moved up the field using a combination of Disillusionment charms and taking cover that had previously been left by the advancing Aurors. The tree he had hidden behind earlier became a casualty to a Bombarda spell not long after he had left the safety of its cover. Then, Charlus saw it. To most, it would have been nothing but a small animal fleeing from the bright lights and loud explosions. To Charlus, however, the rat who was running not towards him but close enough to be seen was a lot more. As much as Charlus wanted to save his grandson, he had been hoping for this opportunity. He pointed his wand at Pettigrew, and with a muttered spell and flick of his wand, the traitorous little bastard who had cost him his wife, his son, and his daughter-in-law, and had framed Sirius for it all, was forced to eat a face full of dirt as a man replaced the rat still trying to run on all fours.
Charlus shot another quick spell and locked away the man's ability to transform, then at the top of his voice shouted, "Peter, it's time to pay for what you have done!" Charlus then started launching curses, jinxes, and hexes at the basterd. He had completely forgotten about the rest of the battle now, all that mattered was making Pettigrew pay for his family's suffering. Charlus could have been merciful and just used a cutting curse, he could have even used an Unforgivable as no one was paying attention to him and it would just be written off as friendly fire when Pettigrew's body was examined.
Charlus, though, wasn't so merciful. He instead layered spell on top of spell, breaking every bone in the pathetic traitor's limbs one at a time with bone breakers, smashing his teeth with a bludgeoning hex, then a Jelly Legs jinx so that his broken legs would be constantly moving. And instead of pausing between each act while he thought of the next, he just peppered the man with stinging hexes while he waited for his next idea. He didn't want Pettigrew to die, he wanted him to suffer, to stand as a monument to all just what would happen to anyone who had the fucking gall to target his family.
Wormtail was left a whimpering mess. It was only when there was an extra bright flash of light from the duel between Harry and Voldemort that Charlus remembered that he was here to save Harry, not to avenge his fallen family. Charlus knew he should stun Pettigrew and move on, but the vengeful person in him wouldn't let him grant the traitor the mercy of unconsciousness. Instead, Charlus hit him with silencing, petrification, and Incarcerous spells, leaving an immoble, silent, and fully aware Pettigrew to feel everything that had been done to him while Chalus moved on.
He started making his way towards the graveyard, going from cover to cover firing spells at the now more spread out Death Eaters as he went. As he did, he passed the bodies of two Aurors. Whether they were unconscious or dead he didn't have time to see and they were too exposed for him to check, so he just focused on his goal: 'get to Harry.'
-ϟϟϟ-
Harry smiled as he saw the flash of all the Aurors' spells setting up the anti-portkey and anti-Apparition jinxes. He wasn't alone anymore.
"What have you done?" demanded Voldemort as Harry dodged another spell and returned fire with a stunner.
"Told every Auror and law enforcement wizard in the country exactly where you are before you can consolidate your power enough to be a threat." Harry replied as he side-stepped another curse. "Now you and your vultures are surrounded, maybe you should just surrender?"
Voldemort screamed in rage and the two started flinging spells at each other as fast as they could, dodging the other easily enough because Harry was staying at distance and every time Voldemort closed in a spell or two would be shot his way from one of the aurors. "Diffindo, Stupify, Expelliarmus, Confringo, Flipendo, Incarcerous," Harry chained spell after spell. As the duel went on, it became obvious to Harry that this was Voldemort's first duel since he had fought Harry's father all those years ago. This was a very rusty Voldemort, but one whom Harry was still having trouble staying ahead of. Voldemort's spells were just as quick and varied, though they were mostly silently cast, so Harry had no clues to spells other than their colour.
The mob of Death Eaters surrounding them grew thinner and thinner, and more and more random spells were being shot at Voldemort as the Aurors had more and more opportunities to do so. The more this happened, the more enraged Voldemort became, and he started shouting his spells again as he switched to using the Killing Curse. The problem with that for Harry was that even if he dove behind a grave or anything else to block the spell, as soon as it was hit it would explode.
This meant that not only was Harry peppered with shrapnel, covering him in tiny little cuts, it also deprived him of any future cover from the object. Harry was now quickly running out of shields. He tried to put more distance between them to give himself more time to dodge spells, but Voldemort kept moving closer every time Harry tried.
Then Harry slipped. It was a loose bit of dirt, probably kicked up by the fight between the Aurors and the Death Eaters. One second Harry was dodging another spell, the next his foot slipped from under him and he fell hard. Harry immediately rolled, dodging the next spell Voldemort had shot at him, but he knew he was fucked. Rolling around on the floor was not a particularly effective way to dodge spells, and Voldemort was never going to give him time to stand up.
This was it. Harry knew it. There was no way he could avoid the next attack, so he decided if it was going to be his time he was going to bring the psychotic bastard with him. Harry didn't try to dodge or evade, he just pointed his wand up at Voldemort and cast.
"Fulmenactus!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
The green streak of the killing curse and the crackling white energy of the lightning spell each shot forth from a wand and streamed towards each other. The spells passed each other within inches, and both men, too caught up in forming their own spell, took the shot directly to the chest. Voldemort ended up spasming as enough electricity to power a small town rushed through him, frying his nerves and exploding blood vessels until a few moments later he joined Harry lying dead on the floor.