94 hp Diagon Alley

They are more like the Riddle who escaped from the diary long ago, that is, like memories that have almost become solid.They are not as real as the bodies of living people, but much more real than ghosts.They came towards him with such loving smiles on every face.

James was the same height as Harry, dressed in the clothes he had died in, with messy hair and glasses that were a little askew, like Mr Weasley.

Lily smiled very happily.She brushed her long hair back and walked closer to Harry, her same green eyes staring hungrily at Harry's face as if she could never get enough of them.

"You are so brave."

Harry was speechless.He looked at his mother to his heart's content, as if he was willing to stand here and look at her forever, and he felt that this was enough.

"You're close," James said, "very close. We're... so proud of you."

"Does it hurt?" The childish question blurted out, and it was too late for Harry to stop.

"Die? It doesn't hurt at all," James said. "It's quicker and easier than going to sleep."

"He'll make it fast, he wants it over with," Lily said.

A cold breeze seemed to be blowing from the middle of the forest, stirring the hair on Harry's forehead.He knows they won't call him forward and he has to make his own decisions.

"You will accompany me?"

"Until the end," James said.

"They can't see you?" Harry asked.

"We are a part of you," Lily said, "no one else can see it."

Harry looked at his mother. "Stay with me," he said softly.

He set off.The dementor chill did not conquer him, and he walked through it with his loved ones, who were like his patron saints.Together they strode through the thick tangle of ancient trees, tangled with roots.In the darkness, Harry wrapped the Invisibility Cloak tightly around his body, and walked into the depths of the Forbidden Forest step by step.He didn't know exactly where Voldemort was, but he was sure he would be found.James and Lily walked quietly beside him. Their company gave him courage and was the reason why he could take one step at a time.

His body and mind seemed strangely disconnected, his mind acting without command, his limbs functioning automatically, as if he were a passenger rather than a driver of the body he was leaving.At this moment, he felt that the dead who walked with him in the Forbidden Forest were much more real than the living people in the castle. Ron, Hermione, Ginny and all the others were like ghosts, while he was Staggering, step by step, towards the end of life, towards Voldemort...

There was a bang, followed by a whisper.There are other living creatures moving nearby.Harry stopped under the cloak, looked around, listened, and his mother and father stopped too.

"There's someone there," whispered a hoarse voice nearby, "with an invisibility cloak, could it be—?"

Two figures flashed behind a nearby tree.Their wands were flashing, and Harry saw Yaxley and Dolohov staring into the darkness, directly opposite where Harry and his parents stood.Apparently they couldn't see anything.

"I must have heard something," said Yaxley. "Isn't it an animal, don't you think?"

"That idiot Hagrid keeps a bunch of scumbags here," said Dolohov, twisting his head.

Yaxley looked down at his watch. "It's about time. Potter's hour is up, and he won't be coming."

"He thought he was sure to come! He wouldn't be happy."

"Go back," said Yaxley, "and see what's planned."

He and Dolohov turned and walked further into the Forbidden Forest, and Harry followed, knowing they would lead him where he wanted to go.He glanced aside, his mother smiled at him, and his father nodded encouragingly.

After walking for a few minutes, Harry saw a light ahead, and Yaxley and Dolohov came to a clearing where Harry knew the dreaded Aragog had once lived.Its incomplete web was still there, but the offspring it bred had been driven off by the Death Eaters to fight for them.

In the center of the clearing was a bonfire, its flickering light illuminating a silent, alert crowd of Death Eaters.Some remained covered and hooded, while others showed their faces.Two giants sat on the periphery, casting huge shadows around them, their faces as cold and rough as carved in rock.Harry saw Fenrir nibbling furtively at his long nails, and the big blond Roll gently rubbing his bleeding lips.He saw Lucius Malfoy looking downcast and trembling, and Narcissa's eyes were sunken, full of horror.

Every eye was on Voldemort.He stood there with bowed head, clasping the Elder Wand in front of him in his pale hands, as if praying, or counting silently, and Harry was still standing at the edge of the clearing, absurdly thinking of a man counting at a game of hide-and-seek. child.Behind Voldemort's head, the serpent Nagini still floated, spinning and coiling in its gleaming magic cage like a gigantic halo.

Dolohov and Yaxley walked among the group, and Voldemort looked up.

"There is no sign of him, master," said Dolokhov.

Voldemort's expression remained unchanged, and his red eyes seemed to be burning in the firelight.He held the Elder Wand between his long fingers and twitched it slowly.

"Owner--"

It was Bellatrix who was speaking.She was sitting closest to Voldemort, with disheveled hair, a little blood on her face, and no injuries.

Voldemort held up a hand to silence her, and she fell silent, her eyes fixed on Voldemort with fanaticism and admiration.

"I thought he would come," said Voldemort in his high, clear voice, watching the dancing flames, "I expected he would."

No one spoke.They all seemed as frightened as Harry, whose heart pounded against his ribs, as if determined to escape the body he was about to abandon.With sweaty hands he took off the cloak and tucked it, along with his wand, under his robes.He didn't want to be tempted, so he fought back.

"It seems... I was wrong," said Voldemort.

"you're not wrong."

Harry mustered all his strength and turned his voice as loud as he could, he didn't want anyone to hear that he was afraid.The Resurrection Stone slipped from his numb fingers, and he stepped into the firelight, seeing his parents disappear out of the corner of his eye.At this moment, he felt that no one else mattered except Voldemort.Just the two of them.

The illusion is fleeting.The Death Eaters were all on their feet, the giant roared, and there were shouts, gasps of surprise, and even laughter.Voldemort froze there, but those red eyes caught sight of Harry, watching Harry approaching him, with nothing but the campfire between them.

Then a voice called out—

"Harry! No!"

Harry turned around and saw that Hagrid was tied to a nearby tree, struggling desperately, his huge body shaking so that the branches above his head swayed.

"No! No! Harry, do you want to—?"

"Shut up!" shouted Roll, and with a wave of his wand, Hagrid fell silent.

Bellatrix had already jumped to her feet. She looked eagerly at Voldemort and then at Harry, her chest heaving violently.All that was moving were the flames and the snake, coiling and unwinding in the gleaming 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 so well guarded that even if he aimed his wand at Nagini, he would be hit by fifty spells first.Voldemort and Harry were still looking at each other, and then Voldemort turned his head slightly to one side to study the boy standing in front of him, his lipless mouth writhing in an odd, dark smile.

"Harry Potter," he said, in a soft hiss like a burst of fire, "The Boy Who Lived."

None of the Death Eaters moved, they were all waiting, everything was waiting.Hagrid was struggling, Bellatrix was panting, but Harry thought for no reason of Ginny, of her radiant look, and the feeling of her lips against his own—

Voldemort had raised his wand.His head was still on one side, like a curious child wondering what was going to happen next.Harry looked straight into those red eyes, hoping that moment would come, as soon as possible, before he could stand, lose control, show fear—

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

Harry lay face down, listening to the silence.He is all alone.No one was looking at him.No one else was around.He wasn't quite sure he was here.

After a long time, maybe no time at all, he realized that he must exist, must not be just a mind out of his body, because he was lying, definitely lying, on the surface of something.So he is tactile, and the thing beneath him exists.

Believing that he was the only one here, he felt no embarrassment, only a little curiosity.He had a sense of touch, so he wondered if he still had vision. He tried to open his eyes and found that he still had eyes.

He lay in bright mist, but unlike any he had seen before.It is not that the surrounding scenery is shrouded in cloud-like vapor, but that the cloud-like vapor has not yet formed the surrounding scenery.The ground on which he lay seemed white, neither hot nor cold, just a presence, a flat, empty thing.

He sat up, his body seemed unharmed.