Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related companies or characters. Just a fan.

This is cross-posted from AO3 after many months. Hope you enjoy!

Harry was tired. So very, very tired. Tired of being controlled and pushed around. Tired of people's expectations and fickleness. So, when it came time to make a decision, when he reached the crossroads between life and death, he hesitated only a moment to think of Hermione, Ron, the Weasley's, of all the people he loved, all of the people he could save, before blocking out the wailing of the Horcrux and Dumbledore calling after him. He thought of his parents, Sirius, Remus, all the people waiting for him on the other side, and he stepped on the train. He was finally free.

"You," Voldemort snapped coldly, "check if the boy is dead."

Narcissa Malfoy stepped forward, heart thudding in her chest. She kneeled beside Potter's body, and brushed the fringe from the boy's forehead to feel his still warm skin. She placed her fingers against the pulse in his neck and felt bile rise in her throat as she failed to feel it beating. Shaken, she rose to her feet. What was going to happen now? Had Voldemort truly won?

"He is dead, my Lord."

Voldemort threw back his head and cackled, and Narcissa shivered imperceptibly at the sound. They were doomed.

The moment he stepped off the train on the other side, Harry was enveloped in a warm hug. Harry stiffened briefly, before melting into his parent's embrace.

"Oh, my baby boy, how we've missed you," his mum exclaimed.

"You've been so brave," his dad said, "It's wonderful to see you."

Harry smiled, and surrounded by his family, he finally felt at peace. Everything was going to be alright. Wasn't it?

When he saw Harry's body hanging limply in Hagrid's arms, Neville felt a rush of anger and determination. Harry had given him an important task, had trusted him to do what Harry could not, and no one, not even Voldemort, was going to stand in his way.

As the battle began once more, Neville fought with everything he had. He spotted Nagini slithering amongst the rubble, and felt no hesitation as he swung the Sword of Gryffindor and cut the snake's head off.

He paused to take a deep breath and rest for a second, before leaping back into the fray. He had done what Harry had asked, but that didn't mean it was over yet.

"Do you think I made the wrong choice?" Harry asked his parents as they lead him to a little cottage in a replica of Godric's Hollow, "Do think that maybe I should have gone back?"

His parents paused and exchanged looks.

"I think you made the choice that was best for you," his mum finally said, "And there's nothing wrong with that. After everything you've been through that you never should've had to face, you deserve some peace."

"Now, come on, we can't wait to see what you think of your room," his dad added.

Harry was silent as he followed after them.

Sweat poured down Neville's back and his muscles trembled with exhaustion, but he refused to stop, refused to give up. With Harry gone, it was up to him now to end this once and for all. It was easy to find Voldemort by following the screams that he left in his wake.

Neville had no idea how, but somehow, as he faced Voldemort, he was able to use the sword to block the spells thrown at him. He inched closer to Voldemort, ignoring everything happening around him. His sole focus was on finishing Voldemort.

And then…and then he was there, and faster than he could imagine, he swung the sword and plunged it through Voldemort's chest.

Time seemed to slow down as Voldemort disappeared, dissipating into dust. For a moment, all Neville could do was stare, frozen in place, trying to process what had just happened, what he had just done.

It was over…it was finally over.

Harry sat curled up on the couch in his parent's home, staring out the window. His parents, bustling quietly in the kitchen, exchanged worried glances.

A sudden pained gasp drew their attention to Harry instantly, who lay collapsed on his side on the couch, clutching his chest with one hand and his forehead with the other.

"Sweetheart," his mum called carefully, "Are you alright? What happened?"

"He's gone," Harry whispered, then louder, "He's gone."

"What do you me- ,?" his dad stammered, "You mean it's over? You-Know-Who's dead?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, a smile slowly spreading across his face, "Voldemort's dead. Neville did it."

Leaping to his feet suddenly, Harry shouted in delight. He couldn't stop smiling. It was over, and he was free to just be with his family. Now, he was at peace.