I do not own Harry Potter.

Harry watched, helpless from Dumbledore's petrificus totalus and concealed by the invisibility cloak, as Snape cast the killing curse at the headmaster. As if in a dream Harry saw Dumbledore topple over the edge of the tower, the death eaters transfixed by the sight of their most powerful enemy falling, dead.


That word rang through Harry's head over and over. Dumbledore, the man who had protected him, who had always had such faith in him, was dead. He didn't even notice as the Death eaters started to celebrate their victory by casting multi-colored spells around the room. Harry wasn't awoken from his horror-induced trance until a scarlet spell collided with the wall beside him. Suddenly, Harry realized that he was in great danger. He couldn't move, and no one knew that he was there. One of those spells could easily hit him, causing who-knew-what. And if the wildly ecstatic death eaters decided to start hurling around the killing curse, then Dumbledore could very well not be the only murder of the night…

Harry held his breath as he watched the spells hurtling around him. Snape, Malfoy, and Greyback realized that they were endangering each other and stopped their spell-casting, instead focusing on dodging the wild curses cast by their colleagues. Bellatrix was in a frenzy, screaming victory and casting the most curses of all.

Harry hated the very sight of her.

She was now the only death eater still celebrating with her curses. She was spinning, whipping her wand through the air, laughing hysterically and yelling praise for the "dark lord" and insults at Dumbledore. The other death eaters had retreated to whatever scant cover they could find.

And then a spell, bloody, dark red; zoomed straight into Harry's neck.

Author's Note:

So I know that this chapter is pitifully short, but I love cliffhangers and I couldn't resist leaving this at that point.

Reviews are welcome; I want to know what people think of my writing style in particular.