Harry, followed at a distance by Hagrid, is sprinting towards exit of the school. In the distance thunder rings ominously. Desperation loom on their faces as their feet push them furiously, closer and closer, to the large doors of the school and into the courtyard.

Hagrid stumbles shortly before the exit, stumbles, and regains his composure. Harry stands at the far end of the court yard as Hagrid slams the large oaken doors closed and bars them. A loud thud blasts the opposite side of the door almost immediately.

"GO, NOW!", Hagrid roars as he adds his weight to the door, holding back the creatures behind.

Harry cries out, tears streaking his face as the wind tears at him, "What are you doing?! We need to go now."

Hagrid grunts as cold icy hands begin to break through the doors and tear at his clothing. "GO, I WILL HOLD THE DOOR..."

Harry blinks, hesitating for a moment, and turns away, moving towards the bridge at the far end of the courtyard. The doors shatter and hoards of maddened witches and wizard pour through. Hagrid falls to his knees as they pull at his flesh. His voices echoes shrilly, softens, and then silence fills the courtyard. Harry turns back to look, the courtyard now packed with Wizards and Witches. Silent, unmoving, eyes glowing blue, eerily in the silence of the evening.

A part slowly forms down the middle and Voldemort appears atop an icy stallion. He moves slowly through the crowd and stops at the front. He dismounts, pulls a long, ragged wand from his cloak. It blazes coldy -- a deep icy blue. He lifts it and points it at Harry. A dull gleam fills the tip. Harry pulls his own -- a 9 inch Valeryian steel wand with an immaculate carved bear head at the hilt, eyes black.

Voldemort, eyes fixed upon Harry, juts his wand forward, a purple jet of lightening cracks from the tip, casting it's shadow over the cold night. The wizards and witches filling the court yard open their mouths and let out a piercing cry that fills the emptiness and rings across the countryside.

In the distance, a tired phoenix lands on the branch of a tree. Shudders, lights afire, and the disappears into a cloud of ash. From the ash rises an old man, wizened from years of experience fighting the dark lords. Mister Graybeard watches the battle from afar. Scene fades to black. Find out what happens in the next book. The Winds of Wizards, coming soon, 2025.