Chapter Text
The grand corridor stretched endlessly, its towering stone arches bathed in golden sunlight streaming through the vast, stained-glass windows. Patterns of colour danced across the polished stone floor. Outside, the grounds were alive with the soft hum of nature - birds trilled sweet melodies from the branches of ancient oaks, and the scent of blooming roses drifted in, carried by warm spring air. The silence was serene, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the quiet sigh of Harry Potter as the door ahead of him was blocked by a pair of armed statues.
"I thought that you were prohibited from entering these halls, Mr. Potter"
He turned. It had been a long time since Harry had walked the halls of Hogwarts, and there was almost nothing recognisable of him now. His eyes, once so vibrant, were dead and dull, shadowed by his frayed hair and hatred. Where he had been scrawny, he had grown into muscle and height, his scar faded to nothing. His robes billowed behind him, bringing a sense of confidence that McGonagall hadn't expected.
"I do not care for needless violence. Professor Dumbledore is willing to-"
"Professor Dumbledore is going to die tonight."
McGonagall stood there, shocked. "Surely, you don't believe you can best him in a duel? While you were above average in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Mr. Potter, I would hardly have called you a prodigy."
Harry didn't respond immediately, instead taking the time to release his wand from its holder. "Whether I win or not is immaterial. He will not live to see tomorrow."
McGonagall's breath caught in her throat. The boy she had once known, the defiant but kind-hearted student, was gone. The man before her was something else entirely - something forged in fire and shadow, in loss and fury.
"You speak as if his fate is already sealed," she said, her voice steely and confident. "And yet, you stand before me, not Headmaster Dumbledore."
Harry tilted his head, considering her. "I have no quarrel with you, Professor. Step aside."
"Mr. Potter, I know you do not think I am so weak as to fold immediately."
For the first time, a flicker of something - perhaps amusement, perhaps pity - crossed his features. He turned his wand over between his fingers, as if testing its weight. "Then I would suggest that you prepare yourself."
The statues behind her shifted, coming to life. The air crackled with tension.
McGonagall set her jaw. "I do not fear you, Harry. If I let you go, you will kill the last hope these students have. If you will not surrender, then I will have to strike you down."
McGonagall's grip on her own wand tightened as the statues flanked her, their stone limbs shifting into place with slow, deliberate menace. The corridor, once bathed in warm sunlight and birdsong, now felt suffocatingly still. Dust swirled in the air, caught in the tension between them.
She did not wait for him to strike first. With a flick of her wand, she sent the statues charging forward, their heavy footfalls shaking the floor. At the same time, she slashed her wand through the air, firing a stunning spell aimed straight at Harry's chest.
It never reached him.
A blur of motion - too fast to track. A single, effortless twist of his wrist. The spell vanished, unravelling midair as if it had never existed. The statues never made it either. Without so much as a glance, Harry lifted his wand and whispered something too soft to hear.
Both statues shattered instantly, exploding into a storm of dust and stone shards. Their remains shot at McGonagall, who raised a shield.
"You will not win, Mr. Potter."
Harry twisted, his whole body moving with him, and his wrist flew in a complicated pattern. A sickly yellow spell sped past McGonagall's head as he ducked, and she barely had time to register her shield breaking before a purple, then black spell shot at her in quick succession. She managed another stunner before being hit by a blistering jinx. Damn.
She whirled her arms, raising the very floor into a variety of stone furniture that she flung at him. Not waiting to see the outcome, she dropped to the floor and stretched one of the walls in an attempt to grab Harry from the side. Fire roared above her as she rolled, narrowly avoiding the jet of white-hot flames that incinerated her transfigured furniture mid-air. The grasping tendrils of stone that she had summoned failed as well - Harry had already moved, slipping through the spaces like a shadow, untouched, unbothered.
McGonagall barely had time to react before she felt it - her body locking up mid-motion, frozen in place as if she had suddenly been turned to stone herself. A full body-bind. He had disarmed her without her even seeing the spell cast.
She hit the floor with a hard thud, her eyes the only part of her that could still move. Above her, Harry stood, his wand held loosely at his side, looking down at her as though she was nothing more than an unfortunate inconvenience.
"I tried to warn you, Professor," he murmured, his voice quiet but firm. "I am only sorry that Hogwarts will not have such a fierce protector after I deal with Dumbledore."
Harry raised his wand, his expression unreadable. There was no hesitation, no flicker of regret in his dull, deadened eyes. The warmth of the golden sunlight streaming through the windows did nothing to soften the weight of the moment.
McGonagall, still frozen, could do nothing but stare up at him, her breathing shallow. She had always known Harry Potter to be unpredictable, to carry burdens far heavier than anyone his age should have, but never - never - had she imagined he would stand over her like this, wand poised to end her life.
"You fought well," he said, almost absently. "But you were never going to win."
And then, without another word, he uttered the Killing Curse.
"Avada Kedavra."
A flash of sickly green light filled the corridor, casting long shadows against the ruined stonework. The impact was silent. There was no scream, no struggle - just a final exhale as the life left her body.
McGonagall was gone.
Harry stepped past her lifeless form without a glance back, the echo of his footsteps swallowed by the overwhelming silence. The birds outside still sang, the roses still bloomed, and Hogwarts stood just as it always had. But the castle had lost one of its last great defenders.
And Harry Potter walked on, undeterred, towards the office of Albus Dumbledore.