A/N I have so procrastinated far too long and I offer you sincere apologies.
Harry held Ginny's wand aloft as he stared at his greatest enemy. Voldemort's red eyes gleamed with hatred.
"Idiot boy," he sneered. "You have courage, no doubt, but what good will it afford you? No longer can you hide behind Dumbledore's skirts. He was always there to protect you. When we met over the Sorceror's Stone, it was he who saved you from death. In the Chamber of Secrets, his bird came to your aid. It was Dumbledore who protected you from young Barty Crouch and Dumbledore who saved you from certain death at the Ministry last year. But no more. It is time for you to stand like a man and face what is before you."
"It's always been you," Harry countered. "Not Peter, Lucius, or even Bellatrix. Just you. I've spent much of my life hating them, yet if it wasn't for you-"
"Don't fool yourself," Voldemort spat. "They would have found their own ways to spread malice and fear."
"You gave them a standard to rally around," Harry continued. "Your hatred consumed them and led them in all their evil acts."
"Not just my hatred," Voldemort said, triumphantly. "If I was the only one with hatred engrained into my soul, then my power would be minimal. I use the hatred of others to further my works."
Time seemed to be standing still. As of yet Voldemort had made no move to attack. Both he and Harry walked around the enclosed space, never turning their backs on each other. The observers still left standing could only watch the final showdown.
As Harry passed Dumbledore's body, he was shocked to see the faint rising and falling of his chest.
"He's still alive?" Harry breathed, kneeling beside the ancient wizard's body.
Voldemort chuckled sinisterly. "I might as well explain. I wouldn't wish for you to enter death with questions burning in your mind. It's a new variant of the killing curse. I've spent years developing it for this specific purpose. Oh, don't mistake me, Dumbledore will die, the old fool, and soon enough, however the process has been slightly delayed."
"But why?" Harry asked, trying to keep the Dark Lord talking as he searched for something, anything that he could use as a defense.
"I want him to see you fall. I want him to enter everlasting death with the knowledge that he failed those he proclaims to love. He'll see me destroy you and watch his perfect world come crashing down. And then, he will join you in death. The end of Dumbledore has finally arrived."
"He's not gone yet," Harry protested, remembering what Dumbledore has said his second year. "He never will be."
"Are you daft, boy?" Voldemort asked, almost gleefully. "He lies unmoving on the ground, soon his ancient, foolish heart will stop! You are alone!"
Harry shook his head. "Not as long as we who are left behind are loyal and still remember him."
"But who?" Voldemort hissed viciously. "Who will be left to remember?"
Ron fought his way to the front of the crowd to stand at Harry's side.
"I will," he said. No fear shook his voice. He stood straight and tall, like a man.
"And me." Hermione joined them, her wand held aloft, at the ready.
Harry glanced at the crowd which had parted slightly to make way for a short girl with red hair as she limped to stand between Harry and her brother.
"We'll all remember," Ginny added. "And the only legacy you will leave behind, Tom, is that of a fool and for eternity, people will speak of the great Harry Potter and his defeat over you."
As Ginny spoke, Harry felt a small tingle in the scar on his palm from the blood brother's ceremony they had performed months before. An idea struck him suddenly. If this doesn't work, he thought, it will be the end. Will I risk it?
Reaching out, he gripped Ginny's hand and felt the scar start to burn as it always did when they touched. She in turned grabbed Ron's hand who held Hermione's.
"Enough talk!" Voldemort snarled. "You have plagued me for far too long. You and your little family will soon be dead. So much for love. Hate is stronger! Hate destroys!"
"Love rebuilds!" Hermione cried. "It takes more strength to build a mountain than to destroy it!"
"You've taken people that I love from me, and it hurts, but it's built me up to who I am." Harry drew himself up to his full height and extended Ginny's wand.
"I'm more of a man than you will ever be."
"I'm no man, I'm a god!"
While Voldemort raised his wand, Harry drew from within, pulling from everyone who had ever loved him. His mother and father, Mrs. Weasley, Cho, Sirius and Lupin. Dumbledore and Ginny.
As Voldemort screamed, Avada Kedavra, Harry released the power that their love had given him.
White light seemed to make them all glow. It arced from their clasped hands into the tip of Ginny's wand where it streaked out, consuming Voldemort's green blaze and slamming into the Dark Lord's body with a force that catapaulted him back twenty feet.
A brilliant whiteness overcame all so they were temporarily blinded. Harry threw himself protectively over Ginny, knocking her to the ground.
An ear-piercing wail came from the heavens and the earth as Voldemort's body started to crack and crumble as Quirrel's had done long ago when Harry had touched him with his mother's protection.
With a distant rumbling that quickly grew louder, the earth shook violently. The stadium around the Quidditch pitch wobbled and teetered. The seating broke and collapsed and the goalposts fell to the ground. In the forest, the terrified sounds of animals were heard as the trees snapped and splintered. On the edge of the forest, one fell directly through Hagrid's Hut.
What was left of Voldemort's crumbled body suddenly burst into flames. As it did, the earth ceased movement and the heaven's stopped wailing. A heavy rain began to fall quenching the fire.
Roughly, Harry pulled Ginny up from the ground and shook her.
"You promised me!" he screamed. "You said that you would stay away!"
"You needed me," she shouted back. "Don't you understand? Voldemort's gone!"
Harry released his hold on her. He stared into her face, uncomprehendingly as rain blurred his vision. A quiet voice from behind broke in.
"Harry."
Turning, he saw the group gathered around Dumbledore's body. He rushed over and knelt down, gripping the Headmaster's hand.
"Is it finished?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry nodded shakily. "He's gone," he said, not quite trusting his voice.
Dumbledore smiled. "You figured it out on your own."
"Begging your pardon sir, but. . .how? Why?"
"Even the oldest fairy tales say it, Harry. Love overcomes all obstacles and blood is the strongest binder there is. You four share each other's blood. That creates a bond between you, stronger than that of a brother and sister, stronger than that of friends. That bond in conjunction with your love culminated to send out one ray of energy; one beam of love that nothing could defeat. Your love overcame death itself."
Dumbledore paused, catching his breath, than his eyes lighted on the wand Harry held.
"Had you used your own wand, Priori Incantatem would have occurred. I am certain that Voldemort expected that and probably intended that to happen. When Voldemort was hit, his hatred could no longer stand against it and he was destroyed."
"It is for good now, isn't it Professor?" asked Hermione. "I mean, he can't come back, right?"
"No, he can't. Tom Riddle was destroyed. But more Voldemort's could rise and take his place if the world allows it. Your job now is to change the world into a better place where that cannot happen."
Dumbledore looked back at Harry. "He was right, you know," he admitted softly.
"About what?" Harry asked incredulously.
"About me protecting you. I knew a day would come when it had to be just you." Dumbledore's voice broke. "And I want you to know that I have never been more proud of you, Harry."
Harry's own eyes were filling with tears.
"Please," he said, his voice shaking. "You can't leave us! You can't leave me!"
"Harry, listen to your own words. 'Not so long as you remember me.' I'll never truly leave you."
Dumbledore turned to McGonagall whose face was scratched and bloodied from the fight.
"Minerva, you'll take on my position as Head of the school. Guide the students with strength and dignity, but always remember that laughter can be an extraordinary healer in times of difficulty."
"I will, Albus," she sniffed.
Dumbledore lay back, rain washing over his face, into his hair and beard. All was silent as the greatest wizard that ever lived sank into Death, a smile upon his face as if to greet the next world. After all, to the well organized mind, death is just the next great adventure.
Harry stood abruptly and moved away from the Headmaster's body. He walked away from the mourners, heading towards the lake. Reaching the bank, he collapsed on the soft earth.
Slowly at first, he began to sob, the rain mingling with tears on his face as he gulped in huge lungfuls of air. His body began to shake uncontrollably and he grasped handfuls of sand, letting it run through his fingers.
The events of the night came flooding back to him in disjointed images.
The Dark Mark. Dumbledore's Army. Snape. Bellatrix killing Colin and Dennis. Cho. Pettigrew's suicide. Neville's bravery. The end of Voldemort. Dumbledore's death.
The end of Voldemort. Harry raised his head to the sky. They were free. He was free. Harry breathed in deeply then screamed. In the scream, all tension, all pain, all joy, and all sorrow were released. Harry screamed until he was hoarse.
When his tears and screams were spent, Harry fell back exhausted but relieved in a way he had not felt since first year when he had first learned about Voldemort.
It's over, he thought. Now it is time to live.
Ginny limped up behind him and laid her hand on his shoulder.
"The Ministry has arrived," she said. "The Death Eaters are being taken away to stand trial. The Minister is asking to see you."
Harry turned to face her. "Go with everyone who was wounded and find Madame Pomfrey. After I've spoken with Minister Bones, I'll come find you."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Well Harry," Minister Bones said, "That certainly is an amazing tale. As you can imagine, reporters will be clambering over each other to get shot at it."
Harry nodded slowly, physically and emotionally exhausted.
"I only want one paper to cover this," he said. "I'll only speak to a reporter from The Quibbler."
Amelia Bones raised an eyebrow.
"They were the only ones to believe me when Fudge was minister," Harry explained. "I'll tell them and no one else."
"I think that's fair," the Minister responded. "Why don't you go ahead and get some rest now," she suggested kindly.
"One question first," Harry said, getting up. "What happens now?"
"In two days a memorial will be held for Dumbledore. This summer will be spent repairing damage to the school and Quidditch stadium. After that, life will resume as normal."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry walked alone to the hospital wing. The walls of the school were scarred; scorch marks being the only sign of the battle that had raged just hours before.
He took a deep breath as he pushed open the door to the hospital wing.
The first people he saw were Ron and Hermione. Ron's head had been cut open by debris from the earthquake and he sported a bandage. Hermione seemed fine, except for the haunted look in her eyes.
Ginny sat next to them in a bed, her ankle and wrist, both under wraps. In a nearby bed, Kyla was lying down with a sling over one lacerated arm that had been coated with an orange paste.
Luna had been hurt the worst. She'd been knocked unconscious and in the terror of Voldemort's arrival, she had been trampled upon. Gently, Neville held her hand, waiting patiently for her to wake.
Many other DA members who had been left unharmed at the end of the battle were also present. Harry couldn't help but notice the gaps that should have been filled by those who were now. . .gone.
"Tomorrow," he announced to the room. "We celebrate those we've lost. Now is the time we mourn them."
They were the last words to be spoken that night. The darkness was spent in silence, all remembering as they shed tears for their friends.
Those of you who have had to write these type of scenes will appreciate the difficulty in doing it. How do you destroy Voldemort? It was interesting, I had a dream that I saw the end of the seventh book. It was pretty cool, unfortunately, this was not how I saw it ending. (That would have been interesting, eh). In the end, I did the best I could with it, but I still can't wait for it to actually come out.
When I review stories, I like to tell people my favorite part, as many of you do. My favorite part in this chapter (even the author can have a favorite part, right?) is when Harry screams. I think that sometimes, there is so much emotion built up and each emotion is different. The only way to express it properly is to scream which is why Harry does that.
So, what's your favorite part? Besides the spoiler, I mean.
"I loved him," he said, his voice husky with emotion. "I challenge you to find one person who truly knew him that didn't."
I'm back on track!