He scoured the dirt and the blood off his face with a quick spell, but the sweat still remained.
"Come out, Potter." rang the voice of Lord Voldemort. "Still running and hiding?"
Harry looked around the column cautiously. Voldemort was advancing confidently across the arena, something that passed for a smile on his something that passed for a face. Harry's chest heaved, and he grasped the slicked necklace tightly in his hand.
"Are you planning to wait me out, Harry?" The Dark Lord's voice was amused. "I assure you, I will live much longer than you."
Harry scrabbled for his wand, which had thankfully fallen within reach. Nevertheless, a bolt of red light still missed it by inches.
Voldemort was playing
Harry pushed himself off the column, wand in hand. He was sobbing, now, and it occurred to him, for the first time, that he might not win, that he could die, here, in the dirt-
No, he had to win. For Ron, for Hermione, for everyone. Except maybe Malfoy. He thought of a bit movie he had seen once, when his aunt and uncle thought he was asleep.
"My name is Harry Potter." he whispered.
"What was that, Harry?" Voldemort tilted his head as he strode. "I didn't-I didn't quite-" he flicked his wand "-catch
Harry winced as the jet of green light blew a piece of the column away. He tried to slow his heart. "I said
, my name is Harry James Potter
!" The dirt under his feet turned a little. "You killed my father
!" He spun around the column. "Prepare to die."
I'm turning off the comments for this until I read book 7. Should be about a week.
EDIT: Comments open.