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"
So
it
all
comes
down
to
this
,
does
n'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
.
"
A
red-glow
burst
suddenly
across
the
enchanted
sky
above
them
as
an
edge
of
dazzling
sun
appeared
over
the
sill
of
the
nearest
window
.
The
light
hit
both
of
their
faces
at
the
same
time
,
so
that
Voldemort
's
was
suddenly
a
flaming
blur
.
Harry
heard
the
high
voice
shriek
as
he
too
yelled
his
best
hope
to
the
heavens
,
pointing
Draco
's
wand
:
"
Avada
Kedavra
!
"
"
Expelliarmus
!
"
The
bang
was
like
a
cannon
blast
,
and
the
golden
flames
that
erupted
between
them
,
at
the
dead
center
of
the
circle
they
had
been
treading
,
marked
the
point
where
the
spells
collided
.
Harry
saw
Voldemort
's
green
jet
meet
his
own
spell
,
saw
the
Elder
Wand
fly
high
,
dark
against
the
sunrise
,
spinning
across
the
enchanted
ceiling
like
the
head
of
Nagini
,
spinning
through
the
air
toward
the
master
it
would
not
kill
,
who
had
come
to
take
full
possession
of
it
at
last
.
And
Harry
,
with
the
unerring
skill
of
the
Seeker
,
caught
the
wand
in
his
free
hand
as
Voldemort
fell
backward
,
arms
splayed
,
the
slit
pupils
of
the
scarlet
eyes
rolling
upward
.
Tom
Riddle
hit
the
floor
with
a
mundane
finality
,
his
body
feeble
and
shrunken
,
the
white
hands
empty
,
the
snakelike
face
vacant
and
unknowing
.
Voldemort
was
dead
,
killed
by
his
own
rebounding
curse
,
and
Harry
stood
with
two
wands
in
his
hand
,
staring
down
at
his
enemy
's
shell
.
One
shivering
second
of
silence
,
the
shock
of
the
moment
suspended
:
and
then
the
tumult
broke
around
Harry
as
the
screams
and
the
cheers
and
the
roars
of
the
watchers
rent
the
air
.
The
fierce
new
sun
dazzled
the
windows
as
they
thundered
toward
him
,
and
the
first
to
reach
him
were
Ron
and
Hermione
,
and
it
was
their
arms
that
were
wrapped
around
him
,
their
incomprehensible
shouts
that
deafened
him
.
Then
Ginny
,
Neville
,
and
Luna
were
there
,
and
then
all
the
Weasleys
and
Hagrid
,
and
Kingsley
and
McGonagall
and
Flitwick
and
Sprout
,
and
Harry
could
not
hear
a
word
that
anyone
was
shouting
,
nor
tell
whose
hands
were
seizing
him
,
pulling
him
,
trying
to
hug
some
part
of
him
,
hundreds
of
them
pressing
in
,
all
of
them
determined
to
touch
the
Boy
Who
Lived
,
the
reason
it
was
over
at
last
--
The
sun
rose
steadily
over
Hogwarts
,
and
the
Great
Hall
blazed
with
life
and
light
.
Harry
was
an
indispensible
part
of
the
mingled
outpourings
of
jubilation
and
mourning
,
of
grief
and
celebration
.
They
wanted
him
there
with
them
,
their
leader
and
symbol
,
their
savior
and
their
guide
,
and
that
he
had
not
slept
,
that
he
craved
the
company
of
only
a
few
of
them
,
seemed
to
occur
to
no
one
.
He
must
speak
to
the
bereaved
,
clasp
their
hands
,
witness
their
tears
,
receive
their
thanks
,
hear
the
news
now
creeping
in
from
every
quarter
as
the
morning
drew
on
;
that
the
Imperiused
up
and
down
the
country
had
come
back
to
themselves
,
that
Death
Eaters
were
fleeing
or
else
being
captured
,
that
the
innocent
of
Azkaban
were
being
released
at
that
very
moment
,
and
that
Kingsley
Shacklebolt
had
been
named
temporary
Minister
of
Magic
.
They
moved
Voldemort
's
body
and
laid
it
in
a
chamber
off
the
Hall
,
away
form
the
bodies
of
Fred
,
Tonks
,
Lupin
,
Colin
Creevey
,
and
fifty
others
who
had
died
fighting
him
.
McGonagall
had
replaced
the
House
tables
,
but
nobody
was
sitting
according
to
House
anymore
:
All
were
jumbled
together
,
teachers
and
pupils
,
ghosts
and
parents
,
centaurs
and
house-elves
,
and
Firenze
lay
recovering
in
the
corner
,
and
Grawp
peered
in
through
a
smashed
window
,
and
people
were
throwing
food
into
his
laughing
mouth
.
After
a
while
,
exhausted
and
drained
,
Harry
found
himself
sitting
on
a
bench
beside
Luna
.
"
I
'd
want
some
peace
and
quiet
,
if
it
were
me
,
"
she
said
.
