The scene of this chapter is taken almost directly, edited here and there, from the Deathly Hallows, just to ensure the scene and plot are right, but everything to do with Percy and everything from his point of view, bar the mologue between Voldemort and Harry, is mine.
I probably should've split this chapter, it is EXTREMELY long, but I didn't want to get angry comments from people being left waiting 😂, and I couldn't find the right place to split it, so just enjoy, and hopefully you like the ending!
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Harry was lying facedown on the ground again, the smell of wet soil and pine trees filling his nostrils, alerting him to where he was. He could feel the cold, rock hard ground lying beneath his cheek, and the hinge of his glasses which have been knocked side-ways by the fall cutting into his temple. Every inch of him ached, and the place where Killing Curse had hit him felt like the bruise of an iron-clad punch. He didn't dare move as much as a muscle, instead remaining exactly where he had fallen, with his left arm bent out atan awkward angle and his mouth gaping impolitely.
He had expected to hear cheer of triumph and jubilation at his death, but all he heard was hurried, frantic footsteps, cautious whispers, and solicitous murmurs all around.
"My Lord... my Lord..."
It was Bellatrix's voice, and she spoke as one would towards a lover; her devotion to such a horrid man was alarming and twisted to say the least. Harry didn't dare open his eyes, and instead focused on his other senses to figure out what exactly was happening. He knew that his wand was still stowed beneath his robes because he could feel it pressed between his chest and the ground. A slight cushioning effect in the area of his stomach told him that the Invisibility Cloak was also there, stuffed out of sight.
"My Lord..."
"That will do," said Voldemort's voice.
More footsteps. Several people were backing away from the same spot. Desperate to see what was happening and why, Harry opened his eyes just a millimeter. Voldemort seemed to be getting to his feet. Various Death Eaters were hurrying away from him, returning to the crowd lining the clearing. Bellatrix alone remained behind, kneeling beside Voldemort.
Harry closed his eyes again and try to fully consider what he had just seen. The Death Eaters have been huddled around Voldemort, who seem to have fallen to the ground. Something had happened when he had hit Harry with the Killing Curse. Had Voldemort too collapsed? It seemed like it. And both of them had briefly fallen unconscious and both of them had now returned. . .
"My Lord, let me --"
"I do not require assistance," said Voldemort coldly, and though he could not see it, Harry pictured Bellatrix withdrawing a helpful hand. "The boy . . . Is he dead?"
There was a complete silence in the clearing. Nobody approached Harry, but he felt their concentrated gaze; it seemed to press him harder into the ground, and he was terrified a finger or an eyelid might twitch.
"You," said Voldemort, and there was a bang and a small shriek of pain."Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead."
Harry did not know who had been sent to verify. He could only lie there,with his heart thumping traitorously, and wait to be examined, but at the sametime nothing, small comfort through it was, that Voldemort was wary of approaching him, that Voldemort suspected that all had not gone to plan . . . .
Hands, softer than he had been expecting, touched Harry's face, and felt his heart. He could hear the woman's fast breathing, her pounding of life against his ribs.
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FanfictionWhat if when our beloved hero Percy Jackson flees camp after being betrayed by the love of his life, he discovers that even his mother's family hides unknown secrets. With the discovery that Percy is actually the grandson of the infamous Voldemort...