This chapter was finished long ago but I just kept delaying to update it because I didn't want it to end. Sigh. This chapter was written in a combination of the book, the film, the film script, and my own imagination of course. But before you read it, a little intro:

Tom Marvolo Riddle was not just a dictator, intent on wiping out the mudblood population. It was not a matter of wake up and kill a bunch of Wizarding families. He had some serious psychological issues and is probably the most complicated character in Harry Potter.

I want to take a moment to mention a few characters that my heart goes out too. Poor Billy and his rabbit, lovable Hagrid, the tortured Hogwarts students Jonathan Buckley and Anna and Emily...also, a moment for the main Death Eater group. They were just a group of Hogwarts boys who wanted to play Exploding Snap when Tom turned them into monsters. If you haven't already guessed, Avery was my favourite.

It's been great fun writing this story for the last 4 months. It really helped me to get to know Voldemort more as a character and I hope I have done justice and truly exposed the Dark Lord. I've already begun my next project. It's called An Unkindness of Wizards and it's about an alternate Harry Potter universe, if anyone's interested.

Lastly, thank you so much to all of you who read and reviewed and followed and favourited. I hope this story continues to be read as there is so much more to Tommy boy than meets the eye.

And now...

the long-awaited finale to a story I'll never forget.

Enjoy:

CHAPTER 50: THE FINAL DUEL

He stared around the woods for a good couple of minutes, not knowing what had come over him. And then, it all came back to him. The battle. The fire and the rubble. The screams. Severus' death. The boy in the forest. And the entire conversation with Dumbledore, which still seemed to be echoing in his ears.

Bellatrix continued to watch him, tears dancing their way down her cheeks. Tom slowly sat up and she tried to help him to his feet, but he pushed her away, indicating that she let him be. She did not listen. He lifted himself off of the ground and tried to stand up, but Bellatrix still had her arms around him, longingly, and continued to whisper, "Are you alright?"

"I don't need your help!" he hissed at her, pushing her away harder this time.

She whimpered and fell backwards, flinching as Tom passed by her.

He froze at the sight of the boy's limp body a few yards away from him. Tom stared at it. He was dead. Dead. Harry Potter was dead!

"I've always found that help would be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

It was Tom's turn to flinch as the echo of Dumbledore's old voice left his ears. He turned angrily to Narcissa Malfoy.

"You!" he yelled. "Check him!"

She bowed low and nervously made her way over to the other side of the clearing, her feet trembling beneath her. Tom could even hear the rapid beat of her heart as she passed by him. She knelt down beside the boy and lowered her head to his heart, listening, her eyes wide.

It seemed like years had passed before Narcissa finally got to her feet and slowly turned around to face the procession of Death Eaters, standing behind Tom, eagerly awaiting her report. She looked around at all the faces and her eyes briefly landed on her husband before turning back to Tom. He knew the answer before she'd even uttered it, yet there was something incredibly satisfying in hearing it being said out loud.

"Dead."

He'd done it. He'd finally done it. This was it. This was it! The moment he had been waiting for for the last 17 years had finally arrived. The moment he'd been waiting for his whole life, actually!

He turned around to face his bruised, bleeding, and tired-looking Death Eaters. They were watching him with awe, admiration, reverence, wonder, hope, satisfaction and amazement. A strange feeling of pity filled in the pit of his stomach. Tom smiled.

"It's over now," he told his Death Eaters. "There will be no need for you to fight anymore today. They will give in on their own."

The Death Eaters seemed to let out a deep breath at the same time. Tom's smile grew wider.

"Come with me," he ordered. "Hagrid, you shall carry the boy. Death Eaters, follow me. Let us go and grasp our future together."

And, feeling pleased with himself, Tom led them out of the forest.

The way back was much shorter than the way in had been, perhaps because all of the Death Eaters had now received a fresh wave of energy, as did Tom. He was happy beyond recognition. He had never felt truly pleased with his powers before. And now that he'd finally proved himself in front of his followers, he knew that they would never dare to question him or abandon him ever again. It was done.

They reached the school courtyard just as the sky was slowly beginning to brighten. Rubble upon rubble everywhere, the limp bodies of various students lay scattered about. Giants' feet were here and there, as were snapped wands and blood. Lots and lots of blood. It was not a pretty sight, Tom had to admit. It would certainly take a lot of cleaning up to make the castle presentable again.

As the Death Eaters proceeded to walk, they found that the others had realised their presence and were coming out to greet them. Tom stopped on one side of the courtyard and waited, his face gleaming with happiness he could no longer control. The remaining staff, students, and parents slowly made their way out of the castle and stopped on the other side of the courtyard, watching Tom indignantly. They too, looked worn out and tired…too tired to carry on is just how Tom liked them to be.

Nagini hissed at his feet as Tom waited, watching the students slowly coming forward.

"Who is that that Hagrid's carrying?" said a redheaded girl at the very front. "Neville, who is it?"

Tom smiled even more now. He raised his arms and shouted, "Harry Potter is dead!"

The girl let out a piercing shriek and flung herself forwards, only to be stopped by a ginger man (presumably her father), who jerked her backwards and held her firmly as she wept.

"Stupid girl," laughed Tom. "You cry for that?" he pointed at the limp body in Hagrid's giant hands and sneered again. "These last few hours, as you all collected the dead and tended your wounded, was he by your side?" No one else spoke a word. They waited. What for, who knows? There was nothing left to do but wait. "While your hands ran dark with the blood of mothers and sons, fathers and daughters, brothers and sisters…his were clasped in prayer, but it was a prayer for one and for one only." The Death Eaters gathered behind Tom, all of them looking very pleased with themselves. Tom smirked and turned back to the crowd of students. "While you all battled—courageously, I might add—until you could no longer will yourself to stand, he had long since fallen to his knees. While you cursed me until your voices grew ragged, he begged for mercy in a voice as meek as a child's." Tom tried very hard to suppress a laugh. It was the happiest moment of his life and he was going to savour it for as long as possible. If only he could make time stand still. If only he could reach out with his long-fingered hand and physically grasp this moment and hold on to it forever.

"Do not cry for that," he repeated. "He is not worthy of your tears. And do not despair of his betrayal. You were never in his heart…not for one single solitary beat."

But the redheaded girl's sobs grew louder now and her father tried to pull her away from the crowd with full force.

"Did you not hear me?!" Tom shouted after her. "HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!"

The Death Eaters behind him guffawed with laughter at this announcement.

"From this day forward," Tom continued, now addressing the entire crowd. "You'll put your faith in me." He paused to take in the crowd standing before him, injured and exhausted. "The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist—man, woman, or child—will be slaughtered..." The Death Eaters murmured their agreement at these words,"…as will every member of their family."

Tom took a few steps forward and smiled again.

"Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters…they will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build…together."

The silence was abysmal now. Time itself seemed to be standing still, waiting. Tom turned back to his Death Eaters and walked a few steps towards them, his smile very clear now.

"HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!" he exclaimed.

Again, they burst into more laughter…laughter for the victory that they had sought for so long. Tom turned back to the other crowd.

"And now is the time to declare yourself!" he shouted, happily. "Come forth and join us! OR DIE."

No one moved. No one made a sound. The courtyard was as still as ever, and the sky was slowly getting even brighter.

"What, no one?" said Tom, feigning a little hurt in his voice.

Behind him, Bellatrix detached herself from the procession of Death Eaters and hopped up on a rock happily, gleaming at the students expectedly.

"Draco," said Lucius suddenly, in a very hoarse voice. Tom turned to look at him and then followed his gaze to where Draco stood, amidst the crowd of injured students. "D-Draco!"

The boy did not move a muscle but rather continued to stare at his father.

"Draco," said Narcissa, calmly. "Come."

Tom waited. He did not necessarily like Draco. In fact, he'd like Regulus a whole lot better. But Draco was, after all, just another young boy…his problem was that he hadn't suffered enough of the corruption just yet.

Draco slowly moved away from the crowd and walked forwards. Tom smiled.

"Ah, well done, Draco," he said, holding out his arms. Draco stopped before him. Tom embraced him, smiling over his shoulder at the crowd of betrayed-looking students. "Who will be next? Hm?"

He let go of Draco and watched the crowd as Draco moved away from him to join his parents, both of whom hugged him now.

"Come now, don't be shy," said Tom, aloud.

Again, no one moved a muscle or uttered a single word. Tom's patience was outgrowing him. He sneered.

"No takers?"

Suddenly, a tall boy in the front—blackened with soot and Sorting Hat in hand—limped his way across the courtyard and halted a little ways in front of Tom, who regarded him with amusement. He eyed him from top to bottom.

"Well, I must say, I'd hoped for better," Tom told his Death Eaters. They bawled with laughter, Bellatrix the loudest and happiest among them. Tom approached the boy. "Is this truly the best Hogwarts has to offer?"

The Death Eaters laughed again and Bellatrix grinned in cruel amusement.

"And who might you be, young man?" Tom asked the boy.

"N-Neville Longbottom," the boy said, quickly.

The Death Eaters exploded with laughter once again. Bellatrix clapped her hands happily.

"Well," said Tom, smiling. The boy's parents would be oh so proud. "Welcome, Neville. I'm sure we can find a place for you in our ranks."

"Yes," said Bellatrix, loudly. "Someone has to do the washing!"

The Death Eaters roared with laughter, some of them relaxing a bit and putting their arms around each other or holding hands.

"Now, now, Bella," said Tom, amusingly. "Let us not underestimate our young friend over here. By stepping forward, he lives to see another day." Tom's eyes fell upon the Sorting Hat in Neville's hand. He sneered and then turned back to the crowd. "There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School. There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield and colours of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"

"I'd like to say something."

Tom's brows furrowed vaguely. He studied Neville curiously. What a young, naïve, innocent-minded lad.

"Very well, Neville. I'm sure we'd all be fascinated to hear what you have to say."

Nagini was probably feeling hungry again, thought Tom, as he continued to watch Neville with curiosity.

"It doesn't matter that Harry's gone," began Neville, turning to look at his peers now. "People die every day. Friends. Family. Yeah, we lost Harry tonight. But he's still with us in our hearts. And so is Fred and Remus and Tonks…all of them." He paused. "They didn't die in vain." He turned to Bellatrix. "But you will!" He turned to Avery, Nott, and Rowle at the front. "And you and you and you will!" His eyes then landed on Tom, who was smiling again. "And so will you! Because….because you're wrong. Harry's heart did beat for us. For all of us!"

Tom pointed his wand at Neville, who suddenly grew rigid and still. He then forced the hat onto Neville's head so that it slipped below his eyes. There were movements from the watching crowd in front of the castle, and as one, the Death Eaters raised their wands, holding the fighters of Hogwarts at bay.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," said Tom, and with a flick of his wand, he caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames.

Behind him, the Death Eaters cackled with laughter while the Hogwarts fighters gasped and yelled. Laughing himself, Tom flicked his wand again and bound Neville completely. Bellatrix was now howling with laughter and positively skipping around the courtyard like a little girl. It was very amusing to watch.

A second later, something else happened. There were distant shouts and yells that grew closer as they drew nearer. In one swift, fluid motion, Neville broke free of the Body-Bind Curse upon him; the flaming hat fell off of him and he drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering rubied handle. The slash of the silver blade could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming crowd or the sounds of the clashing giants or of the stampeding centaurs, and yet, it seemed to draw every eye.

"THIS ISN'T OVER!" he shouted, pointing the sword at Tom.

Tom raised the Elder Wand to attack, but in that exact instant, there was a panicked yell.

"HARRY!" Hagrid shouted. "HARRY—WHERE'S HARRY?!"

Tom thought he was going mad. From the corner of his eye, he spotted the figure that Hagrid had been holding only moments ago, running away. It stopped behind a wall, pointed its wand, and yelled "CONFRINGO!"

Tom followed the spell to where it missed Nagini by inches. The boy met Tom's eyes then, and for a moment—only a moment—time stood still. And then, he darted for the castle.

Chaos reigned. The charging centaurs were scattering the Death Eaters, everyone was feeling the giants' stamping feet, and nearer and nearer thundered the reinforcements that had come from who knew where. Tom saw large winged creatures soaring the heads of his giants, thestrals and hippogriffs scratching at their eyes while the giants punched and pummeled them. And now, the defenders of Hogwarts and Death Eaters alike were being forced back into the castle. Instinctively, Tom fired as many curses and jinxes as he could out of his wand, but each one hit a rock or a pillar, sending rubble flying everywhere. Things were happening fast now. The students ran back into the castle, cheering in their anticipated victory. The Death Eaters however, began to disapparate from the scene. Bellatrix was furious.

"COME BACK!" she shouted after them from her little rock. "COME BACK AND FIGHT!" But no one heard her. Tom was not even half-listening to her anymore. His mind was on one thing and one thing only: Harry Potter.

He waved the Elder Wand in front of him, sending colourful jets flying directly at the Longbottom boy, who flew backwards, along with his pathetic little sword. Tom shouted, grabbed Nagini, and swooshed out of sight.

He appeared in the Entrance Hall a second later. It exploded with counter-fire as members of the Order of the Phoenix, students, and staff returned fire. Tom flicked his wand, the air prickling with disturbance as he summoned a shield of air, insulating himself from attack. He swept forward and responded with a devastating series of spells, causing the Entrance Hall to quake. Next second, he was dueling four wizards at once, while his remaining Death Eaters shouted and attacked the others. Everywhere he looked, people seemed to be falling to their deaths—Hogwarts fighters and Death Eaters. This was not good.

Bellatrix hopped out of nowhere and joined in on Tom's duel, shouting curses at the Hogwarts fighters. Tom turned round, his eyes skimming for Nagini. If the boy was alive, he knew about the snake. And she would be his primary target now. But Tom could not find her. And then…

"AAAAAAAH!"

He turned just in time to see Bellatrix freeze mid-duel, her eyes very round. She then fell to her knees and landed on the ground, unmoving.

"NO!" Tom shouted, beckoning towards her. He cast a powerful charm around them that blasted the nearby lookers a few feet backwards. He fell to his knees and held Bellatrix. Yes. She was dead, alright. Dead as a doornail.

The crowd was suddenly afraid. Silence fell abruptly and completely as Tom raised his head and spotted Harry Potter standing a few feet away from him, watching him carefully. He too, rose to his feet, letting Bellatrix fall at his feet. For a moment, nothing happened. And then, he and the boy began to circle each other.

"I don't want anyone else to help," said the boy loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Tom hissed.

"Potter doesn't mean that," he said, his red eyes wid. "This isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," said the boy. "It will just be you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good…"

Tom stroked the Elder Wand carefully in his hand as he continued to slowly circle the boy.

"It has all been accident," he told the boy. "That night at Godric's Hollow…the night at the graveyard…the night at the Department of Mysteries. You keep getting away by accident!"

"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" said the boy. They were still moving sideways, both of them in that perfect circle maintaining the same distance from each other. And for Tom, no face existed but the boy's. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"

"ACCIDENTS!" Tom screamed, but still he did not strike, and the watching crowd was frozen as if petrified. And of the hundreds in the hall, nobody seemed to breathe but they two. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," said the boy as they circled and stared into each other's eyes, red into green. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people."

"BUT YOU DID NOT!"

"I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

Tom glared at him.

"You dare—?"

"Yes, I dare," said the boy, loudly and clearly. "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

Tom suddenly let out a small smile.

"Is it love again?" he said, his snakelike face jeering. "Dumbledore's favourite solution—love—which he by the way claimed conquered death. Though, love did not stop him from falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork!" Tom laughed now. "Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter—and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"

The boy said nothing as he still circled Tom. Aha, thought Tom. Now he'd caught the boy by surprise.

"If it is not love that will save you this time," he continued, "You must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

"I believe both," said the boy.

Shock flit across Tom's ghostly face, though it was instantly dispelled. He began to laugh, and the sound echoed through the still hall.

"You think you know more magic than I do?" he said, "Than I, Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it," said the boy. "But he knew more than you…knew enough not to do what you've done."

"YOU MEAN HE WAS WEAK!" Tom screamed, biting back tears of laughter. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his…what will be mine!"

"He was the bravest man I'd ever known, who sacrificed his own life," the boy declared.

Tom was taken aback. Where was all this coming from? Where was the weak little boy from the Department of Mysteries? Where was the useless, defenseless prat from the graveyard? Where was the no-good child from Godric's Hollow?

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!" Tom yelled.

"You thought you did," said the boy, "But you were wrong."

For the first time, the watching crowd stirred, as hundreds of people around the walls drew breath as one.

"DUMBLEDORE IS DEAD!" Tom declared, refusing to give them all hope otherwise. "I CAUSED HIS DEATH!"

"Oh, you're so naïve!" laughed the boy, still circling with Tom. "Do you really think that Dumbledore ended up on that tower that night accidentally? That he was caught by surprise when your Death Eaters showed up? Do you really think that it was all a shock to him?"

"I have seen it, Potter, and he will NOT RETURN!" Tom hurled the words at the boy, anger fuming in his red eyes.

"Yes, Dumbledore is dead," said the boy, ever so calmly. "But you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

Tom scoffed.

"What childish dream is this?" he said, but still he did not strike, and his red eyes did not waver from the boy's. He wanted to strike, he really did. But some powerful, unknown force was keeping him from doing it. Curiosity. He wanted to know everything that the boy knew. He was starving for this information that had been withheld from him for so long.

"Severus Snape wasn't yours," declared the boy. "Snape was Dumbledore's…Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realised it, because of the things you can't understand." He paused. "You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"

Tom did not answer. They continued to circle each other like wolves about to tear each other apart. And then, time froze again, and a distant memory found its way to the core of Tom's brain and danced before his eyes, making the hall and the boy vanish temporarily:

"What is it, Severus?" said Tom, who finally realised that Severus was about to reveal to him what he had been hiding since the moment they first discussed the prophecy. Snape sighed and closed his eyes.

"Lily Evans," he said.

"Yes," said Tom, not sure where he was getting at.

"Do not kill her, sir," said Snape. "Please, I beg you, do not kill her. Spare her life. Kill Potter and his kid but please do not kill her."

Tom was lost for words. This had to have been his greatest surprise yet, and he was really starting to hate surprises. He eyed Snape carefully, wondering how long this had been going on. Snape met his eyes and looked incredibly vulnerable.

"How long have you been in love, Severus?" Tom asked.

"The cruel wraths of love possessed me at an early age, I'm ashamed to say," said Snape. "I would appreciate it if you didn't mention it to any of the others. I…I have been a victim of love for all my life, though I never wanted to be."

"I understand," said Tom, surprising him.

"You do?" said Snape.

"Yes, many fools fall down that path," sighed Tom. "Severus, I appreciate your honesty, I do. I am a merciful lord, as you well know by now."

"Of course," said Snape.

"And," continued Tom, "I will consider sparing her life, just for you. I can promise you that much."

"Sir," said Snape, who was obviously not satisfied with this answer. "I can personally help you kill Potter and the child."

"No," said Tom, boldly. "It must be done by me only."

"Of course, sir," said Snape, "But sir, please do not touch her. Please, I beg of you."

"Severus—"

"I'll do anything!"

"You have already done so much!" said Tom. "As I've said, I will consider sparing her life. But, as fools often do, I imagine she will not stand aside and let me kill her husband and child. If the mudblood gives me any trouble, I will have no choice but to dispose of her. You understand of course, don't you, Severus?"

"Y-yes," said Snape, but it looked to be the hardest word he ever had to utter.

"Good man," said Tom, and he patted him once on the back.

The broken hall materialised before Tom once again, and he was face-to-face with the boy.

"Snape's patronus was a doe," said the boy now, "the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life…from the time when they were children."

Tom's nostrils flared.

"You should have realised, Tom," said the boy. "He asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"

"He desired her, that was all," Sneered Tom, "But when she was gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him—"

"Of course he told you that!" said the boy, laughing now. "But he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"

"Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me!" Tom shouted. "He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy—I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it; I understood the truth before you ever caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand—the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny—is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"

He uttered the last 7 words amidst laughter, ignoring the looks of shock on his Death Eater's faces as he'd finally revealed the whereabouts of Severus Snape.

"Yeah, it did," said the boy. "You're right." Tom sneered. "But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you think what you've done…think, and try for some remorse, Riddle…"

Tom bellowed with laughter now. He'd stopped circling the boy and felt tears streaming down his cheeks with the laughter.

"That wand still isn't working properly for you…" said the boy, ignoring him, "…because you murdered the wrong person." At this, Tom stopped laughing instantly. "Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."

"He killed—"

"Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die, undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"

"What does it matter what happened?!" Tom shouted, furious now. "It's all in the past now. I am standing before you and I possess the Elder Wand."

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you?" said the boy. "Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard…The Elder Wand recognised a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realising exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance…"

Tom's chest rose and fell rapidly, as the curse built up inside the wand pointed at the boy's face. He could feel the words right at the tip of his tongue, but still he stood frozen, taking in these words. And suddenly, something happened. It was as if he and the boy had come to a mutual agreement without the need for words to be spoken. The boy instantly dashed through the crowd and up the marble stairs, picking his way through the rubble and limp bodies strewn upon the steps. Tom snapped his attention away from the rest and flew after him.

The battle instantly resumed, picking up right where it left off. Shouts and screams filled the hall once again and curses flew here and there.

"Nagini, with me!" Tom hissed demandingly as he passed by her, snatching her up with him.

They followed the boy up the stairs, Tom's cloak swirling like water behind him, the great snake at his heel. He strode up the steps and fired a couple of spells at the boy, who dashed here and there, avoiding each one. How was it that he was still alive? How could this have happened? Tom made a mental note to slaughter Narcissa Malfoy to pieces once he was done with this one. Harry Potter was like a cockroach simply refusing to die.

Tom flicked his wand again. The boy flinched as shards of marble rained down upon him. Wheeling, he fired back. Tom parried his spells with incredible ease, too angry to care about anything other than seeing the boy's unmoving body for good. He mounted the steps and fired again and again. The boy blocked the spells hastily and stumbled back, firing wildly. One of his spells skittered down the steps and nearly hit Nagini. The snake hissed, unharmed but absolutely furious.

"LEAVE HER!" Tom shouted at the boy, throwing another string of spells in his direction.

His red eyes glittered with rage, as if he himself had been struck by the spell. Dumbledore had been right. The boy did know about Nagini, and he was doing everything in his power now to destroy her. He fired again, purposely aiming for the snake this time. Tom countered his spells with palpable fury, his spells caroming madly up and down the staircase. Having had enough of this, Tom vanished with a black puff of smoke and emerged from the cloud on the boy's other side, materialising at the top of the stairs. He fired a ribbon of green at the boy, who retaliated with a red ribbon of his own. The two clashed into each other and set out sparks flying everywhere, hitting every corner, every wall, and every stair.

As Tom concentrated with every inch of his body on finishing the boy, he saw Nagini slowly making her way up the steps from behind the boy. She undulated upward, over the steps, and hissed in a sound oddly similar to that of Tom's many hisses. The ribboning flames grew more intense, beginning to lick the flesh of the Elder Wand. Tom glanced once more at Nagini, who drew closer to the boy, then stared fiercely at the boy himself, willing the flames down the ribbon of light towards him. The boy suddenly broke the spell, staggering away as the ribbon of light shot upward and the ceiling above gave way, raining debris onto Tom and Nagini.

"I SAID LEAVE HER!" Tom demanded, dodging the piles of rubble that flew upon him.

He emerged from the cloud of smoke, angrier than before. He vanished and reappeared behind the boy, sending a cluster of debris hurling at him. The boy dodged the rocks and fired a few spells back at him, all of which Tom successfully blocked.

It was the strongest fight Tom had ever put up. Again and again, he fired at the boy. He fired every spell he could think of—every curse and every jinx he had ever read about in all his years at Hogwarts. He fired several at once, and was amazed and stunned when the boy deflected them, causing some of them to backfire against Tom. And then, they paused. The boy was gasping for air and Tom was glaring at him. He then narrowed his eyes eerily—in a most unhuman way—and hissed again.

"Now, my sweet," he told Nagini in Parseltongue.

She was only yards away from the boy now and she rose to strike him. The boy fired instinctively, then dashed for the balustrade and leapt into the air, falling and falling until he landed on the stone floor below. He glanced up to meet Tom's furious eyes. Instantly, Tom flicked his wand and the stone floor around the boy simply exploded, the surface dancing like water. When the puff of smoke finally vanished, Tom saw that so did the boy. He followed him through a door to a corridor which was teeming with smoke. In the distance, a patch of light drifted oddly in the swirling mist, glowing weakly and being swallowed by the smoke. Far off, screams—cries of battle—hung in the air, hollow and distant. At least some of the Death Eaters were continuing to fight, thought Tom desperately, as he sought the boy. Even now, he still couldn't believe that many of them had abandoned the scene in attempt to save their own skins—abandoning him, yet again.

The walls shimmered like skin, barely discernible, melting and lost in shadow. Tom could hear a low beating rising in his ears, rapid at first and then growing slower and slower as it increased in volume and all ambient sound drifted away. He then realised it was the trumming of his own heart. He was sweating. So we're back to that, he thought. Not a problem.

He swept down to the lower landing and paused, eyeing the door ahead. He glanced up in the direction of Nagini, apparently conflicted.

"Nagini," he said to her, softly.

The boy appeared from the cloud of smoke and shot some more fires.

"NO!" Tom yelled, retaliating with his own string of spells, now fearing for Nagini's life. She was in very big danger, Tom could feel it strongly now. He leapt in front of her and shouted "DIE! DIEEE!" over and over and over again as he continued to attack the boy. But the boy was not giving in. He was putting up quite a fight, and Tom found the need to summon all the strength he possessed for just this one duel.

They moved into a darkened walkway now, with wooden stairs and railings everywhere. At one point, Tom swore he'd seen a small smile cross the boy's face. Furious above all else, Tom held his wand firmly and raised both of his arms. His long black cloak swirled madly as the hem unraveled and the cloth vipers slithered across the walkway and now up the boy's body. Before the boy could react, Tom flicked his wand and snapped the cloth tight around the boy's arms, legs, chest and neck. He reeled him towards him.

"Why do you live?!" he demanded, in an almost begging sort of tone.

His face loomed close to the boy's, eyeing him like a curious specimen, always wondering the same thing: what was it about this boy that made him untouchable? How could this one, powerless and useless little fetus cause so much trouble?"

"BECAUSE, UNLIKE YOU, I HAVE SOMETHING WORTH LIVING FOR!" the boy answered, confidently.

Angry, Tom poised the Elder Wand over the boy's scar. The flesh there began to colour with blood, the lightning bolt turning white as ice. And then, the unspeakable happened. Tom's hand began to tremble as he held onto the wand firmly. He stared at it for a moment and then watched—in horror—as a crack appeared and slowly expanded along its length. For a moment, and only a moment, he simply stared at it, feeling completely and utterly betrayed. Then, quite suddenly, the boy wiggled his hand free and lashed out, striking Tom hard across the cheek.

Furious, Tom's eyes shifted, glaring at the boy, and he looked down. A drop of blood oozed down to his feet. He reached up and placed his fingers on his cheek: blood. The boy instantly stepped back.

"Confringo!"

The tendrils of the fabric of Tom's old cloak burst into flames. Tom fell back and, with his fractured wand, sliced the burning ribbons. As they turned to ash, the boy stumbled back and Tom picked him up and hurled him into a wall. He rose and fired again, then slapped the boy hard across the cheek.

The boy fell backwards and rose again. Tom fired again but the boy simply rose again. Furious, Tom stepped forward and pointed the Elder Wand only inches from the boy's forehead, seething. The boy glanced behind and then turned back to Tom.

"You were right," he said.

Tom's eyes glittered with fury as he kicked the boy hard again, sending him flying backwards. The boy sprang to his feet and gasped.

"When you told Professor Snape that wand was failing you," he clarified. "It will always fail you."

Tom shouted as he punched the boy again—the wand was not enough anymore. He needed to feel himself physically attacking this thing that was simply refusing to die.

"What if the wand never belonged to Snape?" said Potter, speaking very quickly. "What if its allegiance was always to someone else?"

Tom stared at him, confused, not understanding a word of this. And suddenly, in that moment, he realised it was the boy—beaten and bloody—who seemed to be in control. The boy smiled, then pressed even closer, his voice quiet yet vaguely taunting.

"Come on, Tom, let's finish this the way we started it…"

He then grabbed Tom's cloak in both his hands and edged forwards.

"TOGETHER!"

And they fell. And fell. And fell. They continued to fall, plummeting, yet strangely twisting crazily. A sudden crack filled the sky and they together apparated into a plume, entwined, morphing monstrously in and out of one another, a single screaming beast one minute, adversaries the next. They hurtled downward, towards the courtyard below. Tom forgot all about the wand in his hand and used his fingers on the boy's face as they remained connected, flying upward and downward. He poked his fingers into the boy's eyes, pulled at his hair, and grabbed at his neck. He did everything he could possibly think of to tear the boy apart. And yet, as they burst apart upon meeting the ground and rolled onto their feet, facing one another across the courtyard, the boy looked whole and ready to duel. Tom sneered.

The others from the castle now stepped forwards, creating a large circle around Tom and the boy once again. Death Eaters and students and Order members watched as Tom and Harry Potter circled each other more slowly now. Chests heaving, they stared at one another, then Tom's eyes shifted slightly to the wand in his hand. The boy followed his gaze and watched the Elder Wand roll in between his fingers.

"I told you; it's useless to you," he said aloud.

Tom looked up at him and sneered.

"You know nothing!" he said. "Nothing!"

"Not true," said the boy. "I know more than you could ever hope to know. Want me to share some more of my secrets with you?"

"I have no care for your pathetic little secrets!" Tom shouted.

"Oh, but they are your secrets too," said the boy, cleverly.

Tom froze. What on earth was the boy talking about?

"Oh fine!" he spat. "Indulge me."

"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."

Tom stared at him. It was impossible. It couldn't be. The wand simply could not have chosen a mere little teenager as its master. It couldn't be. And yet it was. Tom looked around the crowd but could not spot any of the Malfoys anywhere.

"But you're too late," said the boy now, as though reading his mind exactly. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took his wand from him."

Tom remembered Bellatrix' reports on the boy's accidental escape from Malfoy Manor, and shook his head violently.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" said the boy. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was disarmed? Because if it does…."

Tom knew the words before they escaped the boy's mouth. His heart skipped a beat.

"…I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

He refused to believe it. He absolutely refused to believe it. Raising the Elder Wand high into the air, he prepared to utter the long-awaited spell, only to be stopped just as quickly by a jarring pain in his heart. He froze, feeling Nagini's body thrash madly for a time before going still, somewhere in some corridor that was not in front of Tom now. The great snake's head tumbled end-over-end and then, as it came to a rest, Tom bellowed in pain. It was the loudest shriek he had ever produced and it echoed even louder now throughout the courtyard.

A red glow burst suddenly across the sky above as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the distant hills. The light hit both Tom's and the boy's faces at the same time, so that the boy's was suddenly a flaming blur.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The bang was like a cannon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading there in the courtyard, marked the point where the spells collided. Tom saw where the boy's red jet met his own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the courtyard like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. Tom watched the boy catch it with his free hand as Tom fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward.

"You are a wizard."

"It's magic, what I can do?"

"I don't need your help!"

"What about Slytherin?"

"What about him?"

"Give me a naaaame!"

"I have pushed the boundaries of magic, further perhaps than they have ever been pushed."

"Forgive me, my lord."

"There are far worse things than death, Tom."

"Love will not save you noooow!"

Tom hit the stone ground with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. All thought, sense, and breath left his body quickly now, starting at the tips of his fingers and ending right in his chest. His head spun before him and then stopped.

Images of his Death Eaters swam before him…Avery, Lestrange, Rosier, Rowle, Nott, Selwynn, and Davis. They were children again and they looked upon him, smiling compassionately. They waved to him and then turned around and walked away, into the light.

He had been hit by his own rebounding curse and was reduced to nothing but an empty shell, which would never be hollow again. All his dreams, all his life's efforts…everything he'd worked towards…everything he'd ever hoped for…gone. And he knew perfectly well, as the last bit of life left his body, that he would never have any of it ever again.

The End.