May the Potters live on

I ran and ran until I could no longer, my legs was throbbing painfully and I could barely breathe. I took shallow breathes because my lungs were about to collapse, I could feel the splintering pain rush through my body at every breathe stroke. I wanted to die, but knew better than to give up hope. I was now on all fours, spluttering on the ground, gasping for air, if only I had my wand, I could possibly get to safety, or call someone for help.
         I had a large gash in my arm, I was lucky that it was still attached to my body because it was only hanging by a strip of skin. I also had a hole that went straight through the palm of my hand; I could see the other side. Another long gash in my leg went from the top of my leg, to the back of my knee cap. I had a few more cuts and wounds but not as severe as my hand and arm. My head started to feel funny, like a tingling on my forehead. He was coming. I tried to get up, but my legs gave way and I fell to the ground in a heap. I could disapparate, if I had any energy that is. It looked like all hope was lost as he came closer to where I was laying. The tingling in my forehead was no longer there, it had turned into a searing pain, giving me a pounding headache, shriveling my insides and burning my skin. It was the worst situation I had gotten myself into yet and I knew I was going to die, I just hoped to bring him down with me,
  “There you are my sweet” he sneered, “how have you been” I glared at him, his laughter rang through the woods, “you think you can kill me, think again little child” he hissed, he pointed his wand at my chest, “CRUCIO” he shouted. The pain was unbearable; I wanted to die then and there. People said that they had felt pain, but only a few have ever really felt pain, only a few have ever felt like this. The curse was lifted, but the excruciating pain stayed. My breathing was heavy now, I was gasping for air. My head was cloudy and I couldn’t’t think straight,
  “What do you want” I said in a deadly whisper, “why do you want to kill me”
  “You have been a nuisance to me, I want you finished and out of the way” he spat,
  “What are you waiting for then” I said, my voice barely audible,
  “I just want to cause you as much pain as possible” he said, triumph in his voice. I wanted to take him down with me, or at least cause him a little bit of pain, a gift from me to him. I reached inside my torn robes with my good hand, pulling out a vial. It looked completely empty, but it held a rare gift, something he had never felt,
  “Are you going to pierce my ears with your banshee voice that you captured” he laughed,
  “This isn’t the banshee voice that I hold in my hand” I whispered. I could feel the energy drain from my body as I said every word, pronounced every syllable. I reached for the stopper,
  “Wait” he said, urgency in his voice, “give that to me” he demanded,
  “No” I croaked,
  “Give that to me” he shouted, I felt the stopper give way, but I wasn’t going to release its contents before I had said my piece,
  “Lord Voldermort, this will one day destroy you, this will one day kill you. Your legacy won’t live on; it will never be captured again. I hope this causes you as much pain as possible, as much pain as you have caused me. You’re a disgrace to Salazar Slytherin” I said. I looked into his red eyes for the last time. I could see that he was angry; I knew that he didn’t understand, but he would feel the pain. I released the pressure on the stopper. The contents spilled out, the power was too much for me. My lungs gave way, my heart stopped beating but I felt no more pain, as I was dead, but I knew Lord Voldermort was now feeling the power of love. Something he will only experience three times in his lifetime. He had one more to come. May the Potters live on.