PG, 900 words
Summary: Two eye witness accounts of Lord Voldemort's defeat.
Notes: Written for the semi-final of firebolt_elite, where the prompt was to rewrite a scene from the HP books from two other points of view.
Yes, I was there the moment the Dark Lord was defeated. It was quite by chance, as a matter of fact - as I've already explained, I was not part of the battle, not by the time he had arrived at Hogwarts. I knew, I think, which side would emerge victorious. Everything I had to come to believe in my life was shortly to disintegrate around me, yet somehow that seemed unimportant.
Lucius and I had been desperately searching throughout the school, looking for our son, and as the situation became more hopeless I couldn't help but wonder if Draco was in the Great Hall - if, once again, he had been pressed into service by the Dark Lord. I could hear the sounds of battle emanating from there, and so my husband and I split up, with the hope to increase our chances of finding Draco in time.
The first thing to greet me upon my arrival in the field of battle was the sight of my sister, dead upon the floor. I can still see the look on her face so vividly, her eyes were wide open, shocked. Of course Bella would have been shocked at being defeated, and so was I. We had both, after all, believed her to be invincible. And when I learned who had struck the fatal blow-- but I digress. I knelt to pay my respects, to shut her eyes, to grieve - yes, grieve over a woman that has been so vilified in recent times. She was my sister, would you expect any less?
There was a great stillness all around me, and I did not realise why, not until I heard my son's name. "The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy," Potter said to the Dark Lord. At the time, I had very little idea what that meant, but I stood up to stare at them, transfixed, and it was only moments before the Lord Voldemort was defeated. The light that came at the moment was blinding, and like many of those present, I had to shield my eyes.
When I looked up again, the man who had held such sway over our lives for so, so long, was dead. You might have thought I would feel relief, or perhaps fear about how we would be treated, as survivors on the losing side. But the truth of it was, I had long since given up on a future, no matter what the outcome of the war would prove to be. My only thought was for my husband and my son, that they had both lived, and that I would see them again before our fates were decided for us.
I've never really believed in being afraid. I think that mostly, we're afraid because we do not understand. Death is nothing to be scared of - after all, we all know that it is not the end. But that night, the night that Tom Riddle came to Hogwarts, fear was everywhere, and it seeped into the stones of the castle itself. It's hard not to be affected by something like that. I always knew that Harry was going to win, and I had explained that as patiently as I could to the Death Eaters when they locked me up in Draco's house, but they didn't seem to listen to me properly, which was a shame. You can learn a lot from your enemies as well as from your friends.
Sorry - you wanted me to talk about the moment Harry defeated Voldemort? Yes, I suppose it must be hard to imagine if you weren't there. I'd just been duelling Bellatrix Lestrange, actually, before Molly Weasley killed her, so we were all pretty close to Harry when it happened.
You know, to me it seemed a bit like a dance. I remember we went to a dance once, when I was younger and Mum was still alive. The women did such pretty things with their wands, streams of light floating all over the stage, and their limbs moving like water. I don't think Harry wanted to dance with Lord Voldemort very much, but I found their movements mesmerising all the same.
Harry was talking, and I could feel the way that every word he said was true - and the truth is always beautiful, of course, and I think that everyone in the hall saw it. In fact, it seemed that we all stopped breathing, almost. I know that for me, silly, petty things like heartbeats didn't seem so important, not when our country was being saved right in front of me.
The sun herself must have realised what was going on, and she appeared just before it happened, just before their opposing magic met in the centre of them, with a colour and a brightness like phoenix flame. Nothing evil can withstand that, and that was how he died, the light much too much for him. I ran to Harry straight after that, and his face was extraordinary, like nothing I've seen before. That light, the light their two wands made, you could see it in his eyes. I think he must still have it somewhere, buried deep. I wonder what that feels like?