Written while HSM2 was on in the background, so I apologize if the dialogue is cheesy. ;)

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The images pulsed through Harry's mind and sent violent convulsions through his body, each spark of pain bringing tiny whimpers and gasps from his lips. The pain hardly registered to him, though, as Voldemort tore through his mind without caution. He saw the Mirror, his parents… Heard her scream, heard Voldemort's hissed order to kill Cedric. He saw Sirius fall through the veil, heard Bellatrix's evil laugh ringing in his ears. His emotions trailed, moving from pity to sorrow to anger, frantically changing.

"You've lost, old man…" a voice spilt from his lips like poison, so harsh and pained that Dumbledore almost recoiled. With a gagged cry, Harry was again thrown into visions… alone in his dormitory, alone in the woods, alone, alone, alone…

"Harry," a gentle voice broke through his agony. "Harry." The name seemed to calm the writhing boy for a second. His luminous green eyes stare up at Dumbledore. That name… that name is someone… that name is him… but before he had time to respond, Voldemort was back within his mind.

He cried again, a sound terrible to behold, which brought tears to Dumbledore's eyes.

"What's that?" Ron asked from where they stood, Neville holding his bleeding nose, Hermione panting. Kingsley was corralling the Death Eaters, trapping them in the room with strong shields about it, while Moody and Lupin crouched by an unconscious Tonks, trying desperately to revive the bubblegum haired Auror. Luna wiped the blood from her own lips, listening, as they heard another cry. Ginny shuddered suddenly.

"It's Harry," she whispered. They sprinted off, following the sound.

"It is not how you are alike, Harry," Dumbledore whispered, as the boy writhed, twisting and shuddering. He seemed to rise, like a snake, before Dumbledore, crying out as he twisted his head, as if to shake the Dark Lord from within. "It's how you are different," Dumbledore adds, though he knew his wise words were lost on the boy.

Harry cried out again. He saw Voldemort raise his arm. This is the end, he knew suddenly, but he was glad. His entire body felt as if it was on fire, his muscles cramping and aching, pain shooting through him. He longed for the end, for the cessation of pain… and he would get to see Sirius again. The words of his potions master chased through his mind, the harsh words from his first Occlumency lesson. "And only then, when he has you literally begging for mercy, will he end it," Snape had sneered at him.

"Kill me," he whispered to Dumbledore, the words frighteningly pitiful. Dumbledore knew these weren't the words of the Dark Lord.

Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna and Ginny ran in, looking around at the carnage, the sand covered hall. With horror, they saw Dumbledore kneeling by their friend, their savior the

Boy-Who-Lived… Harry had gone limp, waiting for death, small shocks of pain coursing through his veins like poison, causing him to twitch pitifully. The five standing members of Dumbledore's Army froze, tears coming to each eye. Hermione and Ron stepped forward, and suddenly, Harry's green, luminous eyes, which were not his own, lifted and locked onto Hermione's… then Ron's. With a painful and sickening lurch, Harry began twitching again. He pulled back his death pleas, flooding Voldemort's mind with images of Ron and Hermione… his best friends… of images of Dumbledore's army, of hugging Sirius in Grimmauld place.

"You're the weak one," a voice came from Harry's dry lips, the voice of a man who has seen much tragedy and sorrow. "You'll never know love… or friendship… and I feel sorry for you." The last five words were said with such determination, such strength, and Harry begun to convulse again, flipping wildly onto his back. Suddenly, as if materializing from sand, Voldemort was standing next to Harry, his wand at the ready. Time seemed to freeze for those watching, though their hearts ached to help Harry.

"You are a fool, Harry Potter," Voldemort said softly, almost with a hint of pity in his cold eyes. "And you will lose… everything." With a look of utter disgust, he raises his wand to perform the spell that had failed to kill Harry so long ago, but the sound of a great wave of fire stops him, and he looked up.

"He's back!" the words floated into Harry's mind, but as he laid panting, staring up at the ceiling, he didn't care who said it, or who was running to his side, calling his name. Strong arms wrapped around him and gathered him into their warm embrace. He closed his eyes, soul, mind and body weary from his fight.

"Will he be all right, professor?" voices asked. "Is he hurt?" "Is he breathing?" "He's so pale…" "What happened? Was that V-voldemort?"

"Good lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the Ministry! He's really back! What did the Potter boy see, Dumbledore?" Harry winced, the sharp voice making his head ache as he closed his eyes. He heard the pop and click of cameras, the light making him moan.

"Enough, Fudge," Dumbledore said, lifting Harry, cradling the boy against his chest. "I will answer your questions soon enough, but now, I must get my students to safety. There is an injured Auror within the department. Send healers to her aid." There was a rush of movement around them, as people ran to help.

"Are you hurt?" Dumbledore asked. Harry realized he was asking Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny and Luna.

"No sir," they all answered. "Is Harry all right?" Hermione asked, worried.

"He will be," Dumbledore answered solemnly. "We must get back to Hogwarts. I will be back in an hour's time, Minister. Then we will discuss the course of action that must be taken." Harry heard some rustling. "Everyone grab hold… Miss Granger, please take Harry's hand… ready?" Harry felt a cold, smaller hand take his and wrap it around something metal. With a sick sensation about his middle, Harry cried out as they traveled grief, pain and sorrow overtaking him as the Portkey brought him home. Then they were in Dumbledore's office, Harry panting in pain. "Mr. Weasley, if you could bring a basin?" Dumbledore asked, kneeling down with Harry. "I believe you'll find one in that shelf." Ron raced off as the others stepped back to give Harry breathing room. No sooner had Ron brought the basin then Harry was sick into it, biting back moans. He was aware of voices around him, but cared not what they said, nor did he understand them.

"What happened to him, Professor?" this time it was Ginny who asked.

"Voldemort did a terrible thing," Dumbledore said. "It was not enough for him to kill Harry, no, he wanted Harry to relive those moments that cause him most pain. It was how he killed those he felt had personally wronged them… He made them relive the moments in their life that caused them heartache and pain, and would make them beg for death."

The room had gone eerily silent. Hermione was crying, Neville had gone pale, but his fists tightened in anger. "It was very fortunate that you all came when you did… Harry was able to fight back with the memories you all have given him." He smiled at each of them.

"Sirius," Harry whimpered, coughing into the basin. Dumbledore rubbed his back, and lifted him again. "He will be all right, but he needs to go to the Hospital Wing, as do all of you." He gave them stern looks, and they nodded. "Follow me, please."

Harry's stomach cramped. He wished he could just close his eyes and rest, but sleep eluded him as Dumbledore walked with him. His heart ached, hoping to hear the bark of his beloved godfather… but it never came. He felt alone, despite the soft words from his friends all around him… and then… someone took his hand… They held his hand in their warm one and gave it a gentle squeeze. Harry clung to the hand, and before he knew it, sleep claimed him.

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So, I planned this to be the end… but it could go on, if people think it's worthy, I suppose. ;) I think I was one of the few people who liked OotP the most out of all the HP movies. And the Ministry scene is easily the most bad ass part out of all of the HP movies… I loved the inclusion of Harry's possession… So what'd you all think?