Dreams

Prologue

"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream."
― Edgar Allan Poe

"It does not do to dwell on dreams, Harry."

Dumbledore's words echoed through his mind as Harry Potter stared across the battlefield and took in the sight of Ginny Weasley. The hurt and pain hit him with all the intensity of a well placed Bludger.

"If only," he whispered, as a solitary tear escaped his eye and trickled down his cheek. He tried to take a couple of deep breaths to ease the tightness in his chest but it was for naught.

It had been Harry's dream to come back after defeating Voldemort and start a life with Ginny. But after almost a year on the run, when he had finally reached a point to draw the Dark Lord into the final battle, when they had talked last night, Ginny had looked at him sadly and said, "I'm sorry, Harry, but I've moved on."

She had continued talking but he hadn't heard a word she said as those words reverberated through his head, shattering his heart, sucking the breath from his lungs. He vaguely remembered her calling his name as he had spun away, running from her as fought the tears that threatened to fall.

It had been all he thought of, what kept him going during the long cold, lonely nights while off hunting Voldemort's horcruxes. His dream of a life together with her had been his beacon of hope for a world at peace without the threat of death hanging over him.

Now that was gone and he felt empty, hollow, a mere mockery of a man. He felt broken, betrayed, adrift without anything to anchor him to the world anymore.

He took one last look at her, her flaming hair standing out amid the dull greys of the smoke and mists that drifted across the grounds. Highlighting her fierceness as she battled a couple of Death Eaters at once.

Then suddenly she was gone from view, the smoke obscuring his view of her. He thought briefly of going to her aid, but then brushed it off. He had a job to do, someone to find so that all this could end and those he loved could go back to their lives free of the fear that had gripped them for so long.

It was with a overwhelming sense of sadness at his loss that he turned away.

"Potter!" he heard spat at him.

Harry turned slightly and there coming through the swirling smoke was the one he was seeking. He was gratified to see the Voldemort was actually limping slightly. At least he too hadn't escaped the battle up to now unscathed. Though he didn't look as bad as Harry felt himself.

Harry was pretty sure he had several broken ribs and his left arm was virtually useless. He had tucked it into his shirt, across his body to take some of the strain off of it. At least that way it only throbbed dully and didn't cause him the excruciating pain it did if it hung loosely.

"Tom," he replied rancorously.

Without any more of a preamble, Voldemort lifted his wand and shot a spell at Harry.

Harry gave a bitter laugh as he spun out of the way. It wasn't the Killing Curse that he had expected. Obviously Voldemort wanted to play with him before he died.

Well Harry didn't plan on playing Voldemort's game. Though he truly expected to die in the effort, he wasn't going to go alone. He would give it everything he had to take the Dark Lord with him.

Harry sent a Blasting curse back that his opponent easily blocked and so the battle was on.

Part of him was surprised that Voldemort didn't seem to be casting with the speed and accuracy that he had shown in the past. Then again, he wasn't at his best either, the injuries that he had sustained hampering his effort. Maybe Voldemort was injured more than he looked.

At first Voldemort had taunted him but as the battle waged on, he had stopped his verbal assault as he failed to bring his young opponent down. Harry felt a grim satisfaction as the visage of his nemesis changed. It went from surprise to shock and then a dark determination. Gone was the manic laughter, the taunting and in its place was a desperation to bring an end to the battle.

As the battle dragged on, Harry could feel himself tiring, his only consolation was that it seemed so was Voldemort. He had never felt so exhausted in his whole life and he was beginning to wonder if he would be able to defeat his enemy after all. He had added numerous minor injuries from near misses as had his opponent.

Gathering as much energy as he could muster, he sent another hex toward Voldemort. He watched as he spun to the side and gathered himself to fire a spell back. In that moment, Harry saw Voldemort's eyes flick to the side slightly, glancing past him to someone coming up behind.

Harry's eyes widened in shock as Ginny came into view, looking somewhat dishevelled but still beautiful in his eyes. As the hex was forming Harry sent everything he had left into a blasting hex that he aimed not directly at Voldemort, but slightly in front at the ground before him.

At the same time he dove into the path of the spell that was aimed at Ginny. His final thought was that if he couldn't have her, he'd at least make sure she lived to enjoy her life because he loved her enough to sacrifice himself for her.

He watched with a satisfying but detached air as his spell struck, throwing a huge wall of debris that rose up and slammed into his nemesis. Vaguely he heard Ginny screaming his name but then Voldemort's spell struck. He felt an excruciating pain and he realized he was screaming, then blackness overtook him and he knew no more.

XX HP + GW XX

A/N: Just something that came to me. I hope you liked it and it has intrigued you enough to want more.

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