Ahem… I'm blushing here...

You know what they say… it's better late than absolutely never! The truth is I toyed with the idea of leaving this fic without an ending so that you all could come up with your own scenarios. But… I had this chapter written out like, two years ago. Believe it or not… I finally decided to post it. I know it's completely different to what the real book wound up being, but I really do love this story… I hope you enjoy it as well. There is still a final chapter waiting to be written… I hope I'll get the inspiration to give this story the end it deserves.

Thanks to all for reading… and waiting… and hoping…

Chapter 34: A Last Sacrifice

"Avada Kedavra!" hissed Voldemort angrily, still pointing his wand directly at Harry.

"No!" Neville shouted, running towards Harry and standing between him and the flash of green light that had just erupted from Voldemort's wand.

The beam hit him square on the chest. Harry caught him just as he began to fall. He frightfully looked into his friend's eyes. They were wide open and though his body was unscarred, Neville was unmistakably dead.

"No…" whispered Harry shakily, sinking to the ground and holding Neville's lifeless body close to him.

Harry fought to control the tears that threatened to spill out of his eyes. How could this have happened? He had planned everything so perfectly: he would go and face Voldemort on his own; no other life other than his own was in jeopardy. Why did Neville have to go and get in between Voldemort and him? Why did his friends have to be so stubborn? How did they even figure out so quickly where he'd be?

"Another friend dies because of you… aren't you tired of living when everyone around you keeps dying? It is your fault, Harry… just yours…" taunted Voldemort calmly.

Deep inside, Harry knew Voldemort was only trying to provoke him. But his words hit close to home: his parents had died, Dumbledore died, now Neville was dead; how many more people would have to die because of this?

He looked around and noticed that his group was no longer alone; members from the Order of the Phoenix were now fighting fiercely against Death Eaters. He quickly recognized Tonks, sporting her hair in a deep shade of red; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Kingsley Shaklebolt, Remus Lupin and others whose names Harry couldn't quite remember.

His thoughts were interrupted by Anna Sophia's loud screams of protest. Harry tried to locate her, but the scene was so mobbed with people throwing curses at one another, Harry couldn't even make out her wild, wind blown hair. He looked down at Neville's lifeless body once more and finally made up his mind.

"We need to end this… just you and me," he told Voldemort firmly, gingerly placing his friend down on the ground.

"I think we agree," said Voldemort, once again pointing his wand at Harry. "I have been far too lenient with you thus far… and my patience is wearing thin…"

"Wouldn't like to cause you any discomfort," Harry said sarcastically, rolling his green eyes.

"Insolent fool!" shouted Voldemort, approaching him so quickly; Harry had no time to move back. "I don't believe you've really understood what it means to face a wizard such as myself, Potter. I was thought to be dead, and I came back. What makes you think that you even have the slightest chance to finish me off?"

"I don't know…" admitted Harry, "but I do know something that you have not learned. Not in all these years… and I believe you will never learn!"

"What is that? Are you about to feed me some of Dumbledore's malarkey about 'love' and 'peace'? Because if that is the one power you possess that I do not, then I am very disappointed in you! I expected something else, Potter…"

"Maybe that was your mistake, Tom Riddle," said Harry pleasantly, channeling Dumbledore. "You always thought I would be something I will never be. You always feared me, which made you come after me. You weren't even sure it was me you were after, but you killed my parents anyway… what makes you think you are not making another fatal mistake as we speak?"

Voldemort seemed slightly confused for a couple of seconds.

"The Prophecy was clear, Potter. And I didn't need to hear it again to remember it. Neither will live while the other survives, see?"

"You didn't hear the whole thing, did you?" Harry asked, unable to suppress a slight smirk from forming in his lips.

"My faithful servant told me what I needed to hear…"

Harry threw his head back and laughed.

"Your faithful servant told you about it? Who might that be? Severus Snape? The man who swore he was by Dumbledore's side and yours as well? The man, who, just as you, is a Half-Blood and that, just like you, enjoys having power? The man who you thought was in it to please you and be loyal to you but was actually in it for himself? You heard it from that man?"

"You cannot play mind games with me, Potter. But it is still cute of you to try…" he smiled, his face looking more grotesque than ever. "It is quite amazing really how… foolish you've been, right in the face of death itself!"

Harry pointed his wand at Voldemort.

"It doesn't matter how much you try, really. I've gone too far in the path of immortality… you would never be able to fulfill the Prophecy. I… on the other hand… Avada Kedavra!"

The spell seemed to hit Harry in the same place the first had… right on his forehead. It bounced off him as though it hit some sort of invisible barrier.

"What?" Voldemort yelled angrily, just before the spell hit him.

The Avada Kedavra hit Voldemort's body, seemingly everywhere. He shouted words no one could fully understand. His body began to contort in different directions and his limbs were stretching out in different directions, as though someone was pulling hard on them. Harry's eyes widened as he looked into the red eyes of his nemesis.

"How…?" Voldemort asked.

"A soul that is pure and untarnished is a lot more powerful than Horcruxes, Tom… Dumbledore tried to teach you that…"

"And love is stronger than any other power…" said Ginny approaching Harry.

"That can't be true… it just can't be!" Voldemort screamed angrily.

The fights that had erupted everywhere stopped and everyone was now looking at Voldemort. The Death Eaters were quickly trying to approach their falling leader… some even seemed determined to find a way to help him. But there was nothing they could do. Suddenly, Voldemort's body exploded, everyone bent down and tried to cover themselves the best they could. Finally, Harry opened his eyes and looked around: all that was left of Voldemort was his robes, his wand, a trail of blood, a hand (seemingly Wormtail's) and a bone. Only Harry knew what these three last things meant.

"This finally over…" whispered Harry, his voice trailed off as darkness engulfed him.

"I saw Dumbledore…" Harry muttered softly.

"Harry?"

Harry slowly opened his eyes, he felt someone putting on his glasses. He blinked a couple of times until the face of the person assisting him came to view.

"Anna Sophia," he murmured.

"Are you alright?" she asked him softly, sitting down next to him and taking his large hand in her small one.

"I… don't know really," he admitted, frowning. "But I am alive so I guess I can't complain… I just feel like I've awoken from the strangest dream and… and…"

All of a sudden, it all came back to him. Neville getting hit with the deadly curse that had been aimed at him, Voldemort and him facing each other, the Avada Kedavra bouncing off of him and… everything went black from there. He looked around, feeling uncharacteristically disoriented. He was in a hospital room, not unlike the one he'd seen Mr. Weasley in when he'd been attacked by Nagini back in his 5th year.

"Please remain calm, Harry, everything will be alright," Anna Sophia assured him caressing his hand gently.

"Where is everybody?" he asked, looking straight into Anna Sophia's dark eyes.

"They are asleep… we are taking turns in caring for you and at 3:00am to 6:00am it is my turn," she explained quickly, standing up and fussing around the room.

"Everybody?" he repeated, this time a bit more forcefully.

"Neville was brought here with you, but there was nothing anyone could do," her voice trailed off and she turned around to face Harry again, her eyes full of tears. "I am not sure where he is now, but he will be put to rest soon…"

Harry felt a lump form in his throat. Neville was actually dead; he'd hoped it had been a figment of his overactive imagination, but he knew better… Neville had died… he had chosen to give his life in order for Harry to live on. Once again, another great person had died because of him. Hot tears began to spill from his eyes and down his cheeks.

Anna Sophia knew there was nothing she could say to make everything better. She approached Harry's bed and carefully lay down next to him. She closed her eyes and embraced him, feeling tears running down her cheeks as well. She knew they ought to be happy… the threat that was Lord Voldemort was over, but so much had been lost, so many lives had ended prematurely. It was extremely hard to rejoice when there was so much pain to deal with. Harry placed his arms around her small figure and pulled her closer.

"I am sorry, Harry, I should be strong for you right now and I just can't…" she sobbed, pressing her face against his chest.

Harry remained silent, but pressed a light kiss atop of her head. It felt alright just to hold her and have the certainty that he wasn't alone in his pain.

"How is Ginny? And how are the others?" he managed to ask, gently blotting the tears from his cheeks with the blankets.

"They are fine… we were lucky… a lot of us were badly hurt, but something wonderful happened right after Voldemort's death," she explained, sitting up and facing him.

"What happened?" he asked, feeling excited by the beautiful gleam in Anna Sophia's eyes.

"Fawkes appeared… seemingly out of nowhere. He began to sing and cry and tears began to fall over each of us, including you. We were so scared you'd been badly wounded; none of us knew what had happened to you the first time you were hit with the Killing Curse so we didn't know what to expect this time around, but Fawkes just, made everything better," her voice was light and hopeful, as though she was reliving the memory through her words. "It was beautiful, Harry!"

"I know it was," he assured her seriously, reaching out for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You see, I saw Dumbledore!"

Anna Sophia smiled encouragingly, wanting to hear more. He smiled at her, feeling his heart swell up with love and hope as he began to tell her his story.

"He was standing next to me and we were both looking and the severed hand, bone and blood lying on the floor. He turned to me and told me 'It is finished' and gently patted my arm. He told me he was proud of me and that he knew I would be able to do it. He reminded me that the choices you, Ginny, Hermione, Luna, Viktor, Neville, Ron and Draco made and the consequences that came with those decisions were not my fault…" he stopped for a moment and looked out the window.

"He was right, you know," she assured him. "Although I do accept that we wanted to make sure you'd be ok, we have all lost someone in this battle and we each wanted to make sure your mission came to completion. We wanted to be there, we wanted to do something!"

"It is still hard for me, you know. I wish I could really internalize that you made your own choices and that it is not my fault Neville isn't here with us anymore, but it is so hard when you realize so many people have died trying to protect you. What makes me so special? What makes me worthy of being protected this way?" tears began to roll down his cheeks again.

"Your parents loved you, Dumbledore loved you, Neville loved you and we all love you Harry. Don't you get it? It is precisely that love which as protected you and which will continue to protect you and everyone that is around you. Death is not the end, Harry…"

"Professor Dumbledore used to say that," he said, smiling despite of himself.

"Well… he was cleverer than the average wizard," Anna Sophia said with a wink and a smile.

Harry smiled as well and pulled on her hand. She complied easily and rested her head on his chest once again. He ran his hand over her curly hair, still pondering over Dumbledore's words. He was sure it had been Dumbledore, and not a dream… Dumbledore always had a way of being at the right place at the right time and of saying exactly what Harry needed to hear. He rested his chin atop of Anna Sophia's head and breathed deeply. His heart didn't feel quite so heavy anymore.