"Avada Kedavra!" came the cry of the snake-faced bastard, Tom Marvolo Riddle; aka Lord Voldemort.
The green beam made a whooshing sound as it beared down on him - Harry Potter; aka The-Boy-Who-Lived; The Chosen One; Fate's Spittoon.
He was the last horcrux, the last of Riddle's soul anchors. Now, anyone would be able to kill the mongrel.
The war had not gone well for the forces of the 'Light'. One of the previous Ministers - how many back now? Two? - refused to believe Harry when, on the night of the third task of the Goblet of Fire, Voldemort had been fully resurrected. That incompetent fool had allowed Riddle to build his forces in secret. He gave the snake-faced bastard time to consolidate his forces; send emissaries to the giants; free about a dozen of his closest followers from Azkaban, and see it blamed on Sirius Black; draw the dementors back to his side; and kill, or have killed, a fair few important people.
Finally, the Minister, himself, saw Riddle in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic; saw him duel Dumbledore. Only then did the incompetent fool acknowledge that Voldemort had 'come back'. Of course, the fool very quickly got his arse well and truly fired by a very incensed populace and Wizengamot. That same event also saw Dumbledore returned to the positions of Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Headmaster of Hogwarts.
But, it was too late; Riddle had already had enough time to consolidate. A month later saw the Head of the DMLE assassinated; along with her niece, Susan Bones; and Emmaline Vance, one of the nice members of the Order of the Phoenix. The then new Minister, Scrimgeour, wasn't much of an improvement on his predecessor. He only lasted about fourteen months. By then, Dumbledore was already dead. Only a couple of months earlier the old man caught a Killing Curse to the chest, which saw him launched backwards off the top of the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts. But, he was dying anyway; victim to a withering curse placed on one of Riddle's horcruxes.
Of course, with Dumbledore out of the way, Riddle almost immediately - less than two months later - waltzed right in and took over the Ministry. And placed his own 'man' in as Minister. That's when the real killings began. Muggleborns and so-called blood traitors were rounded up and placed into 'camps' - just another name for a killing field.
Harry - together with his two friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley - were already on the run; and on a mission. They were looking for Riddle's soul anchors. But, it was going too slow for the red-headed prat, Ron Weasley. He clearly thought they'd have it wrapped up in a couple of months; easy-peasy. It wasn't. They'd only found the locket horcrux by that time. They'd managed to literally snatch it off the neck of that foul toad, Umbridge within the Ministry; and make their escape.
So, Ron up and quit on them late October. Piker! And, his problem? Even though he claimed it was because he didn't think they were finding the horcruxes fast enough; it was really because he was hungry. Oh - boo hoo!
Though disappointed in their so-called friend, Harry and Hermione were somewhat relieved he'd gone. By leaving he'd allowed them to start properly thinking about the task before them. They started to figure out just what the horcruxes were, and where they'd probably be found. Both were thinking a lot clearer while the prat was gone. And both became much closer as a couple.
However, the prat managed to find them again the day after Christmas, Boxing Day. That was the day Harry found the Sword of Gryffindor waiting for them in a deep pond. It was the middle of winter, in the middle of the night, and Harry stripped down to his underwear and went in and got it. Peculiarly, Ron turned up at that exact moment and pulled an almost unconscious Harry, still holding the sword, out of the pond.
Very soon after that, Harry and Hermione's relationship seemed to just drift apart again. Harry, again, started thinking of Ron's sister, Ginny, as the love of his life; as Hermione started to think the same about Ron.
Slowly, but surely, the trio managed to find the rest of the horcruxes. The last was only a few hours earlier; the lost diadem of Ravenclaw in the Room of Requirement, which Luna helped them find.
By then, of course, Voldemort had managed to breach the wards around Hogwarts; and led his Death Eaters in battle with the remaining populace of the school.
Then, Riddle called a cease fire. He called on Harry, directly.
Mere moments later, a sobbing Ron approached him and told him that Hermione was dead; cut down by a killing curse.
With the horcruxes gone, Harry knew immediately what he had to do. He had to go and face Riddle. He had to meet him in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, where the acromantulans once nested.
He walked out the main doors of the castle, moments later. He didn't look back; he should have. He'd have seen a smiling Ron Weasley, if he did.
He passed bodies of the fallen - students, staff and Death Eaters alike - and walked into the Forest. There, he paused a moment to activate the resurrection stone and talk to his perished loved ones. It was then he learned both Remus and Tonks had perished in the battle. He wondered why Hermione did not join them. He forgot to ask. Actually, there were a great many questions he should have asked.
That's when he simply walked into the clearing where Riddle had collected his inner core of Death Eaters and awaited him. A few moments later, he was hit with the curse. And felt his life leave him as his body fell to the ground.
"Get up, you idiot!" snarled a man's voice.
Harry lay there wondering why he wasn't dead. But, he wasn't lying on the dirt ground of the Forbidden Forest, either; he was lying on a rug or carpet of some soft weave.
Blinking his eyes open, he was looking across the surface of a pale blue plush wool carpet. It actually felt quite comfortable.
"Harry James!" snapped the voice. "Get on your feet!" The voice seemed to come from behind him.
Harry rolled over onto his front and rose to his knees. He looked around to where the voice came from and saw a somewhat young Caucasian man with dark blonde hair wearing a plain white robe with silk highlights, scowling back at him.
"Errr - wh-where am I?" he asked, completely confused. "Aren't I dead?"
"Yes - and, no," said the man. "Get up and follow me." And the man started to walk away from him.
Quickly, Harry rose the rest of the way to his feet. He looked around for his wand and - feeling his face first - his glasses. Frowning, he realised he could actually see quite clearly without them.
.
.
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