"You go to them, remember to carry the wounded back to the auditorium first, and the bodies of the dead are cleaned up last. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info" Phoenix finished and ran upstairs. The castle was unusually silent, with no light to be seen, no crashes, screams, or screams to be heard.

He was surrounded by rubble and the handrails of the stairs had been blown off. A tall, masked Death Eater was crushed under a pile of rubble - hopefully.

Walking into the auditorium, it was packed with people, and it seemed that the medical room was completely inadequate. Madame Pomferet transferred the wounded and the dead here and dealt with them centrally.

The academy tables were gone, and the survivors stood in groups, hugging each other. The wounded were concentrated on the high platform, and Madam Pomfrey and a group of aides were treating them. Krum was bandaging a Hufflepuff girl, her hands over her face and crying in pain.

The deceased lay in a row in the center of the auditorium.

Rogge, Philip, and Hermione surrounded a corpse, and Philip knelt beside Friedhelm's head. Hermione could feel her shoulders become damp as she saw Phoenix turn around and hug him.

Friedhelm was accompanied by two bodies, Aberforth and Angelina, motionless but seemingly peaceful, as if they had fallen asleep peacefully under the enchanted dark ceiling.

Narcissa and Lucius put their arms around Draco, who wasn't seriously injured. But in the eyes of his parents, it was quite serious, and Draco twitched from time to time.

And Cedric of Hufflepuff - the bodies were constantly being found from outside and carried back, each of which caused a cry.

Harry was lying on the floor of his office, his face on the dirty carpet, where he had thought he was learning the secret of victory. Harry finally understood that he was not going to survive. His task was to calmly walk into the open arms of death. On this path, he also wants to cut off Voldemort's last connection to life. That way, when he finally rushed over to face Voldemort and didn't use his wand to protect himself, it was all over.

Dumbledore knew that Harry was not going to run away and knew that he would make it all the way to the end, even though that was his end, as Dumbledore had tried to get to know Harry. Voldemort knew, and Dumbledore knew, that Harry wouldn't let anyone die for him once he found out he had the power to stop it.

But Dumbledore overestimated him. He failed, and the snake was still alive. Even though Harry was killed, there was still a Horcrux that bound Voldemort to earth. Of course, that means it's easier for someone else to get their hands on it. Phoenix—all along, Harry knew he was good, far better than himself—he understood—perhaps Dumbledore had left him this memory so that he could take over his job and get him to get rid of Voldemort—his magic was far superior to his own, and he had the same convictions as he did --

Ron and Hermione seemed to be far, far away, in some faraway country. He felt like he had been separated from them for a long time. Don't say goodbye, don't explain, he's already made up his mind. It's a journey where no one can travel together.

Harry stood up, didn't look back, and closed the door to his office.

The castle was empty. He walked on his own feet, feeling like a ghost, as if he were dead. The framed portraits were empty, the portraits that had cheered the resisters on were gone, and the whole school was eeriely dead.

Harry draped the Cloak of Invisibility over his body, walked down the floor, and finally down the marble staircase to the door of the Great Hall, perhaps, in a small corner of his heart, he hoped that someone would feel him, see him, and stop him, but the Cloak of Invisibility was as perfect as ever, and he walked to the door with ease.

Harry glanced at the entrance to the auditorium. People walked around, comforted each other, drank, knelt beside the dead, but he couldn't see who was killed. He had a feeling in his heart that maybe he didn't know better.

Suddenly, Neville almost crashed into him. Neville and another person move in a corpse from the playground. Harry looked down and felt like he had been struck in the face: Colin Creevey. He wasn't old enough, and he looked so young when he died.

"Listen to me, Neville, I can move him alone. Oliver Wood said, carrying Colin on his shoulders like a firefighter and into the auditorium.

Neville leaned against the doorframe for a moment, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He looked like an old man.

"Neville," he jerked back at the voice, Ron wrapped his arm in a thick bandage, "The fifth floor needs manpower, can you make a run?"

"Of course, Ron. Neville agreed, and ran down the stairs.

Ron seemed to see something, and he stepped out of his legs and down the steps. It was only when Harry saw Phoenix and Hermione snuggled up the stone steps.

"Where's Harry?"

"Do what he's supposed to do, I guess," Phoenix said coldly to Ron.

"What?"

"You don't need to know. Phoenix waved his hand irritably.

Harry came a little closer, and Hermione was crying, crying sadly. Who's dead!, a creepy thought came to his mind, and then a more believable thought flashed through his mind.

Phoenix told her, told her everything, and she was crying for herself.

Ron rushed back to the castle in a rage, perhaps looking for himself. But he won't find it, Harry thought to himself, and walked towards the Forbidden Forest.

He didn't stop as he passed Hermione and Phoenix, but quickened his pace. He was afraid, afraid that as soon as he stopped, he would never be able to move his legs again.

"How do you know?" Hermione's voice was so soft that Phoenix barely heard her.

"Dumbledore's memory - I always knew that I had to tell him at the last minute that Voldemort would never be defeated if he couldn't sacrifice himself. ”

"Don't let him die in vain. Phoenix shoved a worn-out spired wizard hat into Hermione's hand, and it took her a moment to realize what she was holding in her hand. "The Sorting Hat can summon the Sword of Gryffindor for you—"

Phoenix stopped Davis and told him to watch the stone bridge and tell him if there was any movement.

Yaxley and McNeill walked to a clearing where Aragog once lived. Its crippled web was still there, but the offspring it had bred had been driven out by the Death Eaters to fight for them.

A bonfire burned in the middle of the clearing, flickering to illuminate a group of silent, alert-looking Death Eaters. Some are still masked and hooded, while others show their faces. Two giants sat on the periphery, casting huge shadows over them, their faces as cold and rough as those carved out of the rock. The blond hunk Rohr gently rubbed his bleeding lips.

Every pair of eyes was on Voldemort. He stood there with his head down, his two pale hands clasped over the wand in front of him, as if praying, or silently counting.

Yaxley and McNeill walked in the middle of the group, and Voldemort looked up.

"There is no shadow of him, master. McNeil said.

Voldemort's expression didn't change, and in the firelight, those red eyes seemed to be burning.

"I thought he was coming," Voldemort said in his high-pitched, clear voice, looking at the dancing flames. ”

No one spoke.

"It seems - I was wrong. Voldemort said.

"You're not wrong. Harry gathered all his strength to raise his voice to the fullest, and took off his invisibility cloak.

The Death Eaters all stood up, and the giants roared, surrounded by shouts, gasps of surprise, and even laughter. Voldemort froze there, but the red eyes saw Harry, watching as he approached him, with only the campfire between them.

Then a voice shouted—

"Harry!

Harry turned to see Hagrid tied to a nearby tree with a wide range of flowers, struggling desperately, his massive body shaking the branches above his head.

"No! Harry, do you want to-?"

"Shut up!" Rohr shouted, waving his wand, and Hagrid was silent.

The only thing that was still moving was the flames and the snake, which coiled and unfurled in the glittering cage behind Voldemort's head.

Harry could feel the wand on his chest, but he didn't reach for it. He knew that the snake was too well protected, and even if he aimed his wand at Nagini, he would be hit by fifty spells first. Voldemort and Harry still looked at each other, and then Voldemort tilted his head slightly to the side and looked at the boy standing in front of him, his lipsless mouth writhing in a strange, gloomy smile.

"Harry Potter," he said, his voice soft, like a hissing burst of flames, "the boy who never dies." ”

None of the Death Eaters moved, they were all waiting, everything was waiting. Hagrid struggled, but Harry thought of Ginny for no reason, of her radiant appearance, and the feeling of her lips against his own-

Voldemort had raised his wand. Harry looked straight into those red eyes, hoping that moment would come immediately, as soon as possible, while he was still able to stand, and he hadn't lost control, and he hadn't revealed his fear—

Harry saw the mouth move, a flash of green light, and everything was gone.