Ron and Hermione were frantic as they watched the medi-witch cart Harry off. Neither could really comprehend what was going on.

They had just come from the Final Battle. Harry and the Order had met with Voldemort and the Death Eaters for, what they hoped to be, the last time. There was nothing special about that day at all. The day started out perfect with a sunny sky but the Order had been on edge all day. For some reason, they all felt that today was the day.

It was Lupin who sent the message: Voldemort was out of hiding and on the move. He had started south of Hogwarts, ransacking the towns that he passed. Everyone knew his destination would be Hogwarts. What better place than near the grave of Albus Dumbledore?

But his timing couldn’t have been more perfect for Harry. The Trio had just returned from destroying the last Horcrux and they were biding their time at Grimauld Place, waiting for Voldemort to make the next move.

When they learned that Voldemort was out of hiding they instantly thought that he didn’t know that his Horcruxes were destroyed. Why would he put himself in that kind of danger if he knew there were no reserves for him?

Feeling confident, the Order mustered up their strength and alerted the ministry in hopes that they would come as reinforcements. The Order set up at Hogwarts which was currently deserted. The school had closed down not long into the school year. Attendance was already low, but when Death Eaters attacked Hogsmeade McGonagall was forced to shut the school and send the children home where they would, hopefully, be safe.

The Order had look outs stationed around the perimeter of the school and somebody up in the Astronomy Tower to watch the skies. They even set up the hospital wing so they could efficiently aid the injured and get them back out fighting. Despite all the activity, the school seemed quiet and nobody really spoke above a whisper. They all waited with bated breath for the signal that their enemies approached.

The lookout in the Astronomy Tower sent the first alarm. Smoke and the Dark Mark could be seen from Hogsmeade. Although most of the villagers had fled after the previous attack, a few stayed unwilling to be sent from their homes. Most feared the worst, that nobody was left. But they couldn’t think about that right now because the Death Eaters, and Voldemort, were coming.

To those present, the battle seemed to rush by in a blur. There were fights everywhere and spells being shot, mostly at random. Flashes of light illuminated the battle ground and those fighting with all they had.

The Death Eaters didn’t seem as concerned with helping their wounded as the Order was. If a Death Eater fell, then there was just another to replace him, nobody ran to the fallens’ aid. The Order, however, had a system of spotting the wounded and transporting them into the castle. It seemed that as soon as one person was released another was taken in to be treated. Nobody seemed to really being making any headway.

Harry had only one goal in his mind. He had told himself over and over again that this was the night. Tonight, he was going to kill Voldemort. He was going to end the suffering and the dissention that Voldemort caused everywhere. It was either that or Harry would die in the effort, but he couldn’t think of that possibility.

Harry had lost track of Hermione and Ron throughout the battle. They went from Death Eater to Death Eater trying to make a dent in their ranks. The Order knew that for Harry to get to Voldemort, they had to occupy every Death Eater to keep them from interfering.

Just as Harry started to wonder if this was a trap, he spotted Voldemort near the white tomb that marked Dumbledore’s grave. He felt like a ball had dropped to the pit of his stomach as he felt the ache for the mentor he had lost and the sickening feeling that Voldemort gave him. Voldemort was leaned almost casually against the tomb firing off curses to random people, not caring if he hit his own.

Harry made his way towards his nemesis, pushing everyone out of his way to get to his target. It was like he had blinders on and couldn’t see what was going on around him. And as he approached the noise seemed to lessen as all he could hear was what Voldemort was saying.

“Ah, Harry,” his scarlet eyes glinting as he said this, “fancy meeting you here.” Voldemort placed a malicious glint as he sent a silent curse over Harry’s head. Harry didn’t even flinch or look to see if he hit his target. All he could do was glare at the man (or almost a man) that killed so many people that he loved without regret.

“Come to kill me Harry?” he asked with mock innocence.

“Actually, I have.” Harry stated boldly, locking his eyes onto Voldemort’s. He could feel his scar start to twinge as the anger built up in Voldemort but Harry didn’t pay attention to it.

“Dumbledore’s favorite is going to kill a great and powerful wizard like me? I think not.” Voldemort was fingering his wand and eyeing Harry, trying to get the measure of him. “What makes you think you can defeat me you silly little boy? Your great Dumbledore lies right here.” He pointed to the tomb behind him as if to remind Harry who it was. “He couldn’t defeat me but you can?” He broke into that high, cold laughter that Harry heard in his nightmares.

“You didn’t kill Dumbledore though.” Harry knew he was taking a risk by baiting Voldemort. “You sent a little boy like me to do the job. And then one of your lackeys did it instead. You were too afraid to take on Dumbledore yourself!” The rage was evident in Harry’s tone and on his face. But Voldemort was starting to match him in rage.

“I could have if I had wanted to!” Voldemort was starting to sound like a child in Harry’s mind and it took all that he had to not laugh at the ridiculousness in his voice. “Dumbledore feared me! He would never be able to defeat me!”

“Sure, so you spend all your time trying to kill a little boy. How many times have you tried to kill me? And failed?” It was Harry’s turn for a smirk. He could see a slight glint of panic cross Voldemort’s eyes but as soon as it was there, it was gone again.

“Enough of this!” Voldemort shouted. “I’ve talked enough and it’s time to end this, to end you, once and for all.” But this time, Voldemort wasn’t as quick as Harry.

Harry shouted, “Avada Kedavra!” before Voldemort even lifted his wand and sent a flash of green light. It struck Voldemort square in the chest and a look of surprise and horror was permanently etched on his face.

Harry couldn’t believe it. The fighting around him continued as he stared at the lifeless body of Voldemort. Slowly, it seemed like hours, the fighting around him ceased as Death Eaters tried to run when they saw their master lying on the ground. Just as slowly Harry turned around with a look of shock on his face that he had finally done it.

But as soon as Harry turned around a mist-like shape emerged from Voldemort’s body. Harry didn’t notice it and those around him didn’t know what was going on. Before they could warn Harry the mist shot towards him and entered his body.

The pain that he felt was beyond anything he felt before. It was more pain than the Cruciatus Curse he had endured, even more than when Voldemort tried to possess him in the Ministry of Magic. Because this time, Voldemort did get inside him.

His scar was threatening to burst open and Harry fell to the ground in agony, writhing around and screaming. He didn’t notice that all of the fighting had stopped, that the Order had rounded up most of the Death Eaters, and he didn’t notice when Lupin and Ron picked him up and carried him inside.

Nobody knew what was happening and the only logical conclusion was to take him immediately to St. Mungo’s. Since they didn’t know what was happening, Lupin decided that it would probably be best if they flooed to the hospital because they weren’t sure what would happen with Apparition or a Portkey.

Ron helped prop Harry up in the fireplace with Lupin and they were whisked off to the hospital, followed shortly by Ron, Hermione, and other members of the Order. Some were left behind to watch the captives and wait for the ministry officials to show up.

There was no way for any of them to comprehend what was going on so they all waited nervously to find out the fate of their friend.

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Harry couldn’t hear anything that was going on around him. He was solely focused on the pain that was splitting his head open; and from his perspective it seemed literal. He hadn’t seen the eerie mist enter his body but he soon felt its presence. As quickly as the pain hit, Harry’s eyes snapped open.

He looked around at his surroundings. They seemed oddly familiar and yet he couldn’t understand how he got there. The last he remembered he was on the grounds at Hogwarts in front of Dumbledore’s tomb.

He was in a cemetery but this wasn’t the same one where he saw Voldemort regain his body. This was a different cemetery; one that he had seen in his own wanderings, trying to figure out the past.

He cautiously walked around the decrepit tombstones glancing from name to name to figure out why it seemed so familiar. He soon came across a jointed headstone with two names on it. The day of their death was exactly the same: October 31, 1981. It was his parents’ graves. He had visited this graveyard with Lupin before he set out to look for the Horcruxes.

A cold wind quickly sent shivers down Harry’s spine. He suddenly got the feeling that he was being followed and whipped around to see who it was.

Standing behind him was none other than Voldemort himself. Harry’s jaw dropped and he shakily pointed a finger at the being before him. “But, I just killed you.”

“Harry, is that any way to greet somebody?”

“No. This…can’t be happening.” Harry looked around him and then reached into his robes to get his wand but to his dismay, he didn’t have it with him.

“You merely took my body, but I must say this is a far better one that I had.” Harry was a bit confused and had started backing away not sure of what to do. “It will be wonderful to possess your body. Nobody would ever know until it was too late.” A malicious grin played on Voldemort’s almost non-existent lips. “And who would dare kill the Boy Who Lived?”

A high, cold laugh pierced the silence and caused Harry’s breath to hitch in his chest. He continued to try and find his wand but to no avail. “There’s no wand to save you here, Harry. It’s just you and me.”

“What’s going on?” Harry managed to say. He knew he had to think of a plan but first he hoped to know what had happened. He killed Voldemort outside of Hogwarts and then felt extreme pain and seemed to have blacked out. But how did he wind up outside of Godric’s Hollow? Harry hoped to figure out a plan by distracting Voldemort; after all, it had worked before, he thought.

“But it won’t work this time,” Voldemort said as a cruel smile played on his lips. “Hasn’t the boy wonder figured it out yet?”

Harry was still frantically trying to figure something out and realized that they were circling his parents’ graves. He felt like he had to trudge through mud just to think straight. “This can’t be happening,” Harry murmured.

“Oh but it is,” a vindictive smile played on Voldemort’s lips. “I’m inside your head Harry.”

And that’s when it struck him like a bullet. Voldemort no longer had a body so his soul transported itself into Harry’s. That’s what made him black and put him in pain. That’s why Harry didn’t have his wand because they were inside his head, inside a memory.

“You’re my only connection to life that’s left, Harry. And I thought that being here might give you some motivation to just give up. It’ll be much easier that way.”

Harry was still trying to search around for something to stop Voldemort and at the same time set up a barrier in his mind to block his next move. He hoped that Voldemort would stay distracted to not notice that he couldn’t see everything.

“All you’ve done is kill everyone who’s ever loved you, Harry. It would be best if you would just let me take over now.” Voldemort’s voice had become silky and almost soothing if it wasn’t for the malicious lilt to it. Harry was almost convinced that this was the right thing to do. After all, he had led most of his loved ones into danger and lost many of them.

But then, in the corner of Harry’s mind that Voldemort couldn’t see, popped up two faces. Ron and Hermione smiled at Harry and laughed. He still had them; they hadn’t died. Maybe there was hope after all, but how could he stop Voldemort?

“Your mother was just a filthy Mudblood anyways. She really deserved to die. Your father too, for loving her.” That unmistakable laugh echoed through the empty graveyard. But rage built inside of Harry.

“My mum was a witch!” Harry yelled. “My mum died to save me! Your mum died because she couldn’t bear to have to look at you!”

Voldemort was starting to get angry too but Harry was way ahead of him. Harry’s chest was heaving as he tried to control himself but he couldn’t.

“It’s time to go, Harry.” Voldemort raised his hands as if to banish Harry.

“Noooooooooooo!” Harry screamed. A bright, white light emitted from all around Harry’s body. It glowed so bright that the dreary graveyard lit up like day. The light grew and grew and just as soon as it had appeared Harry shot out his arms towards Voldemort and the light followed suit.

The light hit Voldemort like a ton of bricks and picked him up. He hovered in the air with a look of shock and agony on his face but not a sound escaped his lips. All of a sudden Voldemort’s body imploded like a supernova and Harry ducked to avoid the blast.

But just as he shut his eyes they popped back open and he found himself sitting up in a hospital bed. His breathes were still coming in heavy gasps as he tried to slow his heart rate back to normal. Everyone in the room was standing around anxiously at the sudden awakening of their patient.



In the years to come, nobody would really believe what Harry told them about defeating Voldemort. Most people would say, “It was just a dream, Harry.”

The doctors said, “You probably just blacked out due to the trauma of killing somebody.” After all, the autopsy showed that Voldemort died from the Killing Curse.

The only people who really believed Harry’s story was Ron and Hermione and even they were a bit skeptical. However, Harry had never told a story like that before so why would he lie now? Harry was used to this kind of situation so it didn’t bother him too much.

He was just glad that it was finally over.