I decided to take Modern Sorcerer on another challenge, 'The Apprenticed.' It is unfinished, but I'll try to finish this. The chapters are bite-sized. Very silly. I hope I get a chuckle or two, I'd be happy with a smile. Minor Spoilers for the manga.

One Word: The Great Reveal

"Harry Potter," Voldemort's voice rang throughout the battlefield, high and cold.

Hermione squashed down the urge to check behind her. Voldemort was hidden, like the snake he was, waiting for his dramatic unveiling. A cliche villain move if Hermione ever saw one.

"Harry Potter, hear me, you have the option to end this battle. You can prevent more bloodshed, stop your comrades' death. Lord Voldemort wishes to save as much magical blood as possible. Meet me on the Front Lawn within the hour, or watch your friends perish."

Voldemort's voice was gone. The battle resumed.

Hermione gripped her wand. Jinx, spell, and charm was said between breathes and dodges. She pushed aside the well of dread that had crawled within her, she ignored the chill of fear that curdled insides.

Voldemort was playing another one of his games. He used Harry Potter as some guise of hope. Voldemort knew as Hermione knew, as their whole world knew, the only one powerful enough to defeat him, Dumbledore, was gone. Murdered by one of their own.

Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, supposed marked equal to Voldemort wasn't an option. Harry Potter was introduced to the Wizarding World at eleven and subsequently hailed as their savior. However, it became quickly obvious that Harry Potter was a dud.

In the background, Bellatrix cackled.

Hermione gritted her teeth. She forced herself to not check the fallen at her feet. She had to keep fighting because there was nothing else she could do.

Harry Potter was the reason why she never put stock in Divination. Harry Potter was the reason why the Wizarding World would fall. Harry Potter, Hermione swallowed back a sob, was the reason why they were going to die.

Harry Potter was never meant to save them.

The hour went by. Too fast. Too slow. Hermione fought with everything she had. Her mind spat out ideas as fast as she discarded them. There had to be something! This couldn't be her end, her friends' end, she was the smartest witch in all of Hogwarts – there was always something, anything. Hermione needed only a minute – a blessed moment – where they could regroup and get their bearings –

A cloud of black smoke shot down from the sky. Voldemort appeared in all of his infernal glory. He was taller than any human, pale as marble, and every bit as cold and serpentine as she imagined.

"Time's up," he whispered, it sounded louder than any scream.

Hermione wondered where her Gryffindor courage had fled. Her body and mind at odds. She wanted to step forward and point her wand at Voldemort, to say Avada Kedavra, and watch him fall. Yet, she was rooted. She tried to control the trembles that ran the length of her body.

"Where is Harry Potter?" Voldemort asked. He looked toward them with cruel scarlet eyes.

There was an angry outburst from Hermione's side. His name drew rancor. What was Harry Potter to them? Nothing. Harry Potter had been a constant and festered disappointment. The Light fought for themselves.

"Your charlatan savior has abandoned you," Voldemort continued as if he hadn't heard them. A vicious smirk on his lips. "He's smart enough to realize no one can stand against Lord Voldemort."

"Has the battle begun? I magicked my alarm clock away – I'm here! Harry Potter is here!"

Hermione glanced over her shoulder. To her credit, she only rolled her eyes.

Harry Potter arrived in his typical fashion as if this was a Potions lesson and not a duel that determined the fate of the Wizarding World. Untidy in appearance. His robes were at least a size too big and his green-and-silver tie was sloppily done. His hair in its ever-present state of chaos. It was a wonder, truly, that his glasses were in tiptop shape.

Harry ran from their side to the middle of the battlefield where Voldemort and his allies stood. Voldemort dwarfed Harry.

"The Boy-Who-Lived has finally made an appearance," Voldemort said. His Death Eaters jeered behind him.

Honestly, the Death Eaters were rather tame in their childish taunts toward Harry. Hermione had watched Harry be insulted for the past seven years. Each progressive year somehow crueler.

Year after year they got taller– older, Harry Potter somehow remained eleven.

"… any last words?" asked Voldemort. His Death Eaters silenced. "Lord Voldemort will allow this."

Harry opened his mouth, but it wasn't his voice that spoke.

"Harry! Wait!"

All eyes seemed to turn toward a blonde girl on their side. Hermione frowned. Luna "Loony" Lovegood stepped forward. Her misty-eyed stare blocked out all others, singularly focused on Harry. She took another step forward.

Harry raised a single eyebrow.

"There's a flash sale at SugarPlum's; 50% off Treacle Tart."

Harry's face brightened. A clear shift from the boredom that was present seconds ago. He rubbed his hands together. "Thanks Luna!" he whirled around to face Voldemort. "Are you ready?"

Hermione thought she saw Voldemort twitch.

"Very well. Harry Potter, if you're so eager to die!" Voldemort cackled. Voldemort started his barrage, wordless and explosive. The brightest red, it shot toward Harry, engulfing him. Plumes of smoke and dirt covered them.

Hermione was prepared to see Harry Potter dead and the battle resumed. The dust settled. Harry stood there. Unharmed.

Harry blinked. Voldemort blinked. Hermione blinked. The Light Side blinked. The Death Eaters blinked. Aragog's many descendants blinked.

Voldemort fired off spells faster than humanly possible. Harry didn't dodge. He stood there and… and absorbed all of Voldemort's spells. The Death Eaters stepped forward. "My Lord, we can help. "

"He's mine!" Voldemort said.

He blew a huge fireball toward Harry. Hermione, feet away, had to cringe at the amount of heat the damn thing radiated. It rebounded with a flick of Harry's fingers.

It was a bewildering sight, Harry Potter, dud of Hogwarts, unscathed by all of this. Hermione almost understood the frustration on Voldemort's face. Harry Potter wasn't anything. He was abysmal in Potions. Dreadful in theory. Atrocious in spellwork. Hell, it was a persistent rumor that his wand wouldn't even work for him; Hermione had certainly never seen Harry use it.

Harry Potter scratched behind his ear.

Voldemort let out a wordless shriek. He had reached that point.

Voldemort threw his everything, magnificent and utterly terrifying, into a spell. Black as sin, it coalesced into a wave and rushed at Harry. Harry yawned.

He brushed whatever it was that Voldemort attempted with another flick.

"Is that all?" Harry asked. He wiped his hand against his jeans.

"You dare!"

"Five minutes until the flash sell begins," Luna interrupted.

Harry gaped. He mumbled under his breath, he addressed Voldemort. "Er, can we reschedule this? Tuesday, I'm free."

"Witness the Boy-Who-Lived wanting to concede in the face of Lord Voldemort!" Voldemort boomed.

Hermione thought she heard someone laugh.

Harry sighed. He scratched behind his ear again. If Hermione had to guess it looked like Harry was contemplating. He stood there for about a minute before he shook his head. "Sorry Tom," Harry said. He sounded sad -no?- disheartened. "You were a good adversary, I almost thought you got me a few times, but we can't play anymore. You've hurt a lot of people and that's not simpatico."

"This false bravado won't work on Lord Voldemort!"

"Cease," Harry said, his voice weaved with a subtle power, that wasn't – couldn't – have been there before. He waved a hand in Voldemort's direction.

If Hermione had blinked she would've missed it. Voldemort was there one moment. In the next, he was gone.

Another blinking event occurred until Bellatrix screeched "My Lord! Kill the mudblood! Kill them all!" Bellatrix didn't get further than a step.

"Cease," Harry said. He snapped his fingers and all the Death Eaters and their allies disappeared in another split-second.

Stunned silence followed. What was there to say. Was it really over? Like that? Harry Potter had saved them like that – just – what in Merlin's name –

Luna broke from the fray. She trotted over to Harry, a serene smile on her lips. Her hands were tangled in that ridiculous adornment of bottle caps she called a necklace.

"A minute late," she told Harry cheerfully.

Harry spluttered. "We've got to go now. It might be all gone! The treacle tart, the cauldron cakes – I know that biddy ends the sale early!" Harry started to walk off. Luna nodded along.

"Hold on!" Hermione found her voice. Curious green eyes settled on her. Hermione shivered. There was hidden depth she never noticed before. A quiet strength unmatched that lurked beneath. "What did –what happened, what?" she asked.

Harry grinned. "I'm Harry Potter, hero hobbyist."

Harry grabbed onto Luna. They disappeared with a familiar loud pop.

Another silence followed. A tumbleweed rolled across the field. A lone wind whistled in their ears.

Then, Ron: "What the bloody hell just happened?"