Discovery

106.

The yell of shock, the cheers, the screams on every side were stifled at once. The crowd was afraid, and silence fell abruptly and completely as Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help." Harry said loudly.  "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Voldemort hissed.

"Potter doesn't mean that," he said, his red eyes wide. "That isn't how he works."

"There are no more Horcruxes." Harry said simply. "It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good...."

Voldemort began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening than his screams; humorless and insane, it echoed around the silent Hall.

"You think you know more magic than I do?" he said. "Than I, Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it," said Harry, "but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."

"You mean he was weak!" screamed Voldemort. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"

"No, he was cleverer than you," said Harry, "a better wizard, a better man."

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"

"You thought you did," said Harry, "but you were wrong."

"What childish dream is this?" said Voldemort, but still he did not strike.

"Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him! Snape was never yours, he acted under Dumbledore's orders from the day you hunted my mother."

"It matters not!" shrieked Voldemort. "It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine!"

"That wand still isn't working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person." Harry said. "Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."

"He killed—"

"Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"

"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!" Voldemort's voice shook with malicious pleasure. "I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! It's power is mine!"

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."

Blank shock showed in Voldemort's face for a moment, but then it was gone.

"But what does it matter?" he said softly. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone . . . and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy. . . ."

"But you're too late," said Harry. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago."

All eyes fell to Harry's wand, the wand he stole from Malfoy.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does . . . I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The bang was like a cannon blast. The jets of light met, and golden flames erupted in the middle of the two spells. I saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, and Harry caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward.

He hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty. Voldemort was dead.