The Firebolt never seemed to be fast enough. Harry twisted and turned through the air, as fast as he possibly could, to avoid the rampage of Death Eaters that were following him, closer, closer by each passing second. Harry didn't even know how he got into the hopeless situation; but now he was alone, and most surely he would be captured. If he was captured, the only logical thought was that he surely would die.

Harry twisted his body to look behind him. Panic filled him, and for a few fleeting seconds he thought about those he loved. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, the whole Weasley family... He had let them down; he had failed. Everything they had ever worked for was being swept away by his stupid, selfish mistake.

Harry looked back again. The Death Eaters were gaining on him, and he knew that evasion could only last so long. They had been aiming curses at him for what seemed to be an eternity, but Harry's past as a Quidditch Seeker had given him the edge.

Then, as Harry looked back once more, he found himself unable to move as the dark blue curse shot from a Death Eater's wand. In the back of his mind, he registered to himself that the Death Eater was Severus Snape. But it didn't matter. The curse had hit him. He would die.

For a moment everything was suspended. Harry was unable to move, but still the world around him rushed by in a mixture of color and sound.

And then pain.

Harry was falling, and it didn't matter. He was going to die; if not from the fall, then from the excruciating pain that ripped through his body and left him screaming, screaming for it to stop, for it to be over- Harry couldn't handle it, he couldn't-

And then, everything dissolved slowly into black. Harry felt nothing.

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