At this point, that spell was more of a reflex than a conscious choice. Their magic collided mid-air not cancelling each other, but not landing either. Harry's wand began to vibrate, making him clutch it desperately. While he had accepted his death as the inevitable, he was not willing to go without a fight. A beam of lightning, where their spells met, moved towards him, but Harry fought, wanting to meet his fate standing tall. He could not see the figure that was casting the other spell, but the moment he rose, the beam began to wander, away from him, towards Voldemort. When it collided with the other's wand, spectres emerged, an old man, then Charity Burbage. The teenager shuddered, remembering their deaths all too well. Then his heart stopped because he knew the last victim before Professor Burbage. Tears started to cloud his vision.