I don't own Harry Potter, and naturally, will deny any accusations.
Sure it was over, sure Voldemort had decided to flee, Harry made his way out from behind his statue guard, but Dumbledore bellowed, "Stay where you are, Harry!"
For the first time, Dumbledore sounded frightened. Harry could not see why. The hall was quite empty but for themselves, the sobbing Bellatrix still trapped under her statue, and the tiny baby Fawkes croaking feebly on the floor.
And then Harry's scar burst open. He could feel the blood flowing down his forehead. He knew he was dead. It was pain beyond pain, pain beyond possibility.
He was gone from the atrium, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creature's began. He could feel it inside of him. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape.
And when the creature spoke, it used his Harry's mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move, and words come out. . . . "Kill me now, Dumbledore. . ."
Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again. . . . "If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy. . . ."
Let the pain stop, thought Harry. Let him kill us. . . . End it Dumbledore. . . . Death is nothing compared to this. . . .
And I'll see Sirius again. . . .
And as Harry's heart filled with emotion, he could feel the creature's coils loosen somewhat. He gathered all of the feelings inside of him and pushed it towards the creature. The coils loosened completely and the pain stopped.
Harry barely noticed though. He kept pushing. He took every feeling and emotion he had and pushed as hard as he could. He felt himself leaving his body. . . . . .
Then he entered someplace else. Somewhere new. He could hear an unearthly, blood curdling scream as he crashed through a barrier. The scream of someone in agony. The same sort of scream that had been coming out of him.
Then he realized where he was. He recognized it, somehow. It seemed oddly familiar. It seemed as if he was in his own mind. Or one very much like it. But the horrible screaming told him otherwise.
He was surrounded by what looked to be a giant cloud. It was completely black, except for small patches that were dark blue or blood red. There were jolts of electricity and energy running rampant inside it.
The whole thing reeked of darkness. So much that it almost overwhelmed him. But there was something else. Something older and stronger than the darkness. It was a feeling of raw power. Power like he had never felt before.
It was hypnotizing. It was calling to him, telling him to approach. Harry yearned to touch it. To sink into it, and let it wash over him. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what he should do. But the yearning feeling was too strong and he plunged straight in.
He was overcome by the power. It smothered him, surrounding him on all sides. And as he absorbed it, he could briefly hear the screaming intensify. He could feel the power inside of him. It was twisting at his soul, bending it painfully.
The pain intensified as the power connected with him. He could feel it attaching to him, welding itself to his own power. Then they combined as one, and his senses were overwhelmed.
A horde of feelings and emotions came to him. Smells, tastes, sounds, and textures. Things he had never felt or experienced before. So much that it blinded him.
A rush of memories came with it, becoming implanted in his mind. He saw a young Tom Riddle as he put on the sorting hat, and took his place in Slytherin. He saw Riddle as he discovered his heritage. As he spent all his time in the library, in his quest for knowledge and power. He saw Riddle as he learned the unforgivables, as he killed his father, and drowned himself in the Dark Arts.
The memories kept coming. Everything from Riddle's life and Voldemort's existence. And then the knowledge came too. More information than he could possibly imagine. He could feel it being drilled into him, combining with his magical core.
The basics came first. The Levitating Charm, Calming Draft, and simple Transfiguration. All the lessons from the first year to the O.W.L. exams.
Then harder things came. Human Transfiguration, Advanced Charms, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Magical Creatures. The Polyjuice Potion, the Draught of the Living Dead, and Veritaserum. Subjects he had never studied before.
The knowledge kept coming. Spells, Potions, and Ritual Instructions that would never be found in the Hogwarts Library.
He learned the Unforgivables in an instant. He learned hundreds of charms, curses, hexes, and jinxes. All in the blink of an eye. He learned the Dark Arts, Rune Magic, Occlumency, and Legilemency. He learned Parsel Magic and Ancient Spells long forgotten. Things only Voldemort knew.
And still the lessons continued.
He learned how to make portkeys, how to apparate, how to duel, and how to fight with his bare hands. He learned Alchemy, Healing, Ward Magic, poisons, and antidotes. Languages he had never heard of, much less spoken. He knew all that Voldemort had learned throughout his life.
And then it suddenly stopped. The rush faded away until he could hear Voldemort's screams once again. Those too faded as he felt himself being pushed out painfully. He felt himself leaving Voldemort's body, and he shortly returned to his own.
He could hear voices around him, but couldn't decipher the words. He tried opening his eyes, but lacked the strength. Moving his head slightly, Harry Potter gave a small groan and promptly blacked out.