This is the final chapter I am extremely sorry for how rushed it is, for the plot holes, and all the drawbacks - it just didn't pan out the way I thought it would.

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Chapter Thirty - Endgame

The explosion shook the foundations of the building. Harry put out a hand to steady himself, crouched down on a support beam.

Across the half-built structure where he was hiding, down the street, fire glowed with an unholy light. Towering columns of smoke rose towards the sky, the sound of screaming undead topped only by the cannonblast of several pipelines going off.

Harry grinned in satisfaction and wiped a sweaty palm on the front of his black jacket. His very immaculate black jacket, covering an expensive white shirt and silver tie. Tuxedo pants tapered into smart Italian shoes - pointy-toed, of course.

Four hours ago, he was at the Ministry ball. And now...

Now, Endgame.

The crazy grin faltered as a figure strode through the roaring flames.

Skeletally thin, a bone-white body, hairless, lipless, with red eyes and slits for a nose, Lord Voldemort glided down the street.

Long fingers gripped a yew wand, containing a single phoenix feather. Across the street, Harry raised his left hand, human fingers clutching a holly wand, a brother wand.

Voldemort flicked his wand, almost lazily. A broken half of a streetlamp zoomed up towards Harry.

Harry shuffled forward, and fell down four stories, even as the broken metal flew through the air, just missing him.

The fall should have broken his bones. Instead, Harry landed on his feet, upright, with hardly a shudder. Magic.

Harry's lips moved, but the words were lost in the din of the unnatural fire - now tinged with green and purple.

Red eyes flashed as Voldemort processed the lip movements.

'Catch me if you can.'

Harry bowed low. There was a flash of light, and a flaming phoenix appeared where the human stood, majestic. It crooned a tune, but Voldemort had already whipped his wand, rendering himself temporarily deaf.

Fire bloomed and died. The phoenix had vanished.

Voldemort smiled and closed his eyes. There was nowhere Potter could hide, and they both knew it.

Not two seconds later, his eyes flew open, and the red eyes glowed fiercely.

Hogwarts, then.

It was time to go home.

(0)

Five hours earlier

"See - I make good choices."

Harry chuckled. "You chose the suit - I picked the tie. I got compliments for the tie."

Ginny stuck her tongue out. "You can't wear the tie without the suit."

"True - let's call it a team effort and leave it at that." He held open the door for Ginny, shutting it behind him.

"I was almost having fun," Ginny whispered. Her elegant brown dress swished about her heels as they walked down the empty corridor. Blood red earrings shone in the dim light.

"I know," Harry replied in an equally low voice. "But duty calls."

"Hero," she said, a fond smile gracing her face.

Harry shrugged. "You get back in there, have some juice, enjoy the ball, dance with Percy, get out. I'll meet you later, at Grimmauld Place."

Ginny nodded, but didn't move. Her arms tightened around Harry's middle. "Why do I get the feeling something's wrong? Is something... is something wrong? Is there something you're not telling me?"

He shook his head.

Ginny shook her head sadly. "Whatever you say... I'll see you soon Harry."

She made to turn, and he grasped her shoulders, his eyes finding hers. For three long moments, Harry drank in her features, and a strangely wistful expression came over his face.

Harry bent down and kissed her forehead.

"Goodbye Ginny."

Ginny blinked. Was it her imagination, or did that sound... Final?

"Goodbye."

(0)

The massive snake slithered down the corridor, forked tongue tasting the air, gleaning all sorts of information from a simple taste of nothing.

Up ahead, the red-headed man almost dozed off again. Nagini hissed softly and raised her head up high. She sensed something...

"Stupefy."

Arthur Weasley slumped forward, unconscious.

The snake whirled around, darting forward to strike. A flash of silver, and then pain. Intense pain.

Harry Potter stood there, leaning lazily against the side of the wall. Even in the dim, spooky light, he cut a striking figure, clad in a black suit, with a white shirt and silver tie. Elegant.
The green eyes smoldered with avenging fire. A curious grin was etched on his face.

And he was leaning on a sword.

A sword that glowed with silver light. A ruby encrusted pommel. The Sword of Gryffindor. Myth, brought to reality. Legend -like the boy who wielded it.

"I know you can hear me Voldemort. Can you feel the agony of your snake?" Harry's voice was conversational. He swung the sword in a circle, even as the snake began to thrash.

"I killed a basilisk with this sword," Harry continued. "And the sword is goblin made... which means I've stabbed Nagini with basilisk venom."

The snake began to thrash with increased fervor. It's eyes turned red, and Harry felt his scar burning up.

"And basilisk venom you know," Harry made a tsking sound, and grimaced. "Potent... enough to destroy abominations, dark constructs - like say... A horcrux?"

His scar was on fire. Pain, agony. Skin split, and blood dripped down Harry's cheek.

Three thin rivers of red ichor ran down Harry's cheek, splitting over his eye. And yet, he laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

"Tom, Tom, Tom..." Harry chuckled and coughed, almost sinking to his knees as even more blood began to flow from his inflamed scar.. "You're scared now aren't you?"

Harry rose to his feet, somehow managing to ignore the headache that threatened to incapacitate him. He had never known Voldemort to be more angry, and the emotions were simply too strong to be stopped.

Not that Harry wanted to.

No, this... This is endgame.

"Where you put the ring, you know?" Harry asked the almost-dead snake. "The horcrux you made out of some ring, you left it at the Gaunt shack? I'll meet you there."

Harry smiled, as blood dripped from his scar to the floor. The blood on his cheeks gave him a sinister look, emerald eyes were almost glowing. "Ciao."

The Sword of Gryffindor flew through the air, and buried itself in the massive snake's head. The red eyes flickered to black for a second, and then all life left it's eyes.

Harry didn't spare Nagini another look. He walked briskly over to Arthur, lips pressed together tightly against the pain from his scar.

A simple spell brought the man back to consciousness.

Arthur stumbled to a side, drawing his wand and leveling it. "Harry?" He asked, confused.

"Yes Arthur," Harry replied. "I need you to do something for me."

The Weasley's eyes landed on the snake with a silver sword through it's head. Arthur blinked and rubbed his eyes.

A chuckle escaped Harry. "Give this to Dumbledore," the hero said, thrusting a scroll at the older man. "And this to Luna Lovegood. It has to be done quickly, as soon as you possibly can." Harry gave the man an envelope. "Okay?"

"What is this?" Arthur questioned, yet he took the scroll. To say no never occurred to him, Harry seemed different right now. He seemed... He seemed more.

"You're a good man Arthur," Harry time him, clapping him on the shoulder. "Take care of your family."

Arthur frowned. "Weren't you at the Ministry Ball? Where's Ginny?"

Harry smiled thinly and walked past the man. Arthur shook his head and turned around. Harry was no longer there.

(0)

The Hall of Prophecies. Harry walked down the aisles, a memory of long ago guiding his footsteps.

Aisle 76. Harry walked, his footsteps echoing. The entire Ministry was on holiday for the next two days. Even the Department of Mysteries. The wards, the alarms... Harry slipped through those with ease. Sam had told him the secrets, a long time ago, in another life.

He gazed idly at the shelves lined with crystal orbs, wondering how many of them were half as important as the one he was here for.

All, in his opinion. Prophecy might have directed Dumbledore's moves, but Harry...

"I'm no one's pawn," Harry whispered to no one. It was true. He wasn't.

Harry reached out, and for a moment, his hand was still, fingers splayed out, hovering over the orb.

Endgame.

He took it, and it felt like lead in his pocket.

(0)

The Gaunt Shack was well hidden within thick woods, a barely noticeable path the only easy way to access it. Wards were there all around to guard against apparition.

Of course that didn't stop Harry Potter. Few things could.

Harry appeared almost a mile up in the sky, above the ruin. He arrowed down towards the ground, wind whipping at his face, black hair billowing about wildly.

A wave of his wand, and Harry was no longer under free-fall. He flew, using magic few could ever use.

He landed at the front door. It was already blown open, and the walls were torn down.

Harry smiled. Voldemort was angry now.

"Tom," Harry called out in greeting.

"Harry Potter," the dark lord hissed, shadows clinging to him as he walked through the ruins of the once proud house of Gaunt.

Harry cocked his head. "What, you're not going to tell me off for calling you by your name?"

Voldemort managed a gruesome parody of a smile. The lipless mouth curled, the red eyes glowed, a black tint to them.

"No, Harry," Voldemort whispered, but his voice carried across clearly.

"I'm impressed," Harry smirked. "What, did you visit a shrink or something? Got some help for your anger-managment issues?"

The pain in his scar spiked, and Harry grimaced. "Or maybe not."

"You know about my horcruxes," Voldemort stated. "I am... impressed."

"Angry, more like it," Harry offered. "Even scared. You see Voldemort, I've not got just one. I've got all four of your horcruxes."

Harry was impressed. Voldemort didn't show an iota of relief. Harry wasn't too sure why he was lying about the horcruxes - he figured it would put Voldemort more at ease, be lulled into a false sense of security - and less of a cornered animal. After all, a cornered animal...

"So where is Albus Dumbledore?" Voldemort asked, looking around as if he expected the old headmaster to pop at any second.

"Actually this isn't the headmaster's party," Harry explained. "It's mine."

And Harry changed. Oh he was still human - messy black hair, green eyes, lean body... Dressed up in a black jacket, white shirt, silver tie...
But now there was a fire in his eyes. His hair began to move about as if in a breeze - and there was none. His skin glowed, he seemed taller. He exuded... Power.

His fingers flexed, and two wand shot out and into his palms. One the Holly and Phoenix wand. The other the Elder Wand. The Deathstick. A Deathly Hallow.

Sparks flew from the tips of the two wands. Sparks flew from his fingers. Sparks flew up and down his ears, traversed across his eyes.

He was a fearsome sight. Harry Potter - nothing held back. This was the boy-who-lived in all his might. All his considerable power. Power that none could match, none could resist.

Except Voldemort. Like Harry, Voldemort let his own magic loose. The red eyes glowed, shadows sprung up from nowhere, clinging to his feet. A thin black mist surrounded the Dark Lord's palms, covering the one Yew and Phoenix Wand he held.
There was an almost tangible sense of... Evil. Of... Wrong.

Harry's suit jacket began to flap about. He closed the single button, and straightened his tie.

Voldemort raised his wand.

"Uh-uh" Harry protested. "Haven't you been taught how to duel?" The corners of his mouth twitched. "First... We bow."

Bow to death, Harry.

And Harry bowed, albeit mockingly. Death was on hand.

Endgame, after all. Endgame.

(0)

Albus Dumbledore gazed at the scroll, then looked back up. He seemed older all of a sudden, like he'd lost... Inspiration?

"Thank you, Arthur."

"No problem..." Arthur hesitated. "What is Harry doing? Is he safe? We could mobilize the order..."

"I'm not sure," Dumbledore sighed, moving around to sit behind the claw-footed desk. "But if I were you, I'd have some faith in him."

Arthur nodded slowly, then held out an envelope. "That's for -" he glanced at it, reading the scrawled words on the cover. "Luna Lovegood."

"Miss Lovegood?" Albus frowned. That seemed strange.

"Yes, it even says so on the cover."

"Alright then. I'll see that she gets it. Thank you."

Arthur nodded and made to turn around. "Albus... That snake... Harry did that, didn't he?"

Dumbledore said nothing, peering at the scroll through his half-moon spectacles.

Arthur left without another word.

Dumbledore sighed heavily as he read the message Harry had left him. Then he heaved himself up from the chair. There was no time to be lost.

Dumbledore threw a pinch of floo powder. The fire roared, green flames licking the sides of the fireplace.

"Madame Bones?"

The fiery image of the witch frowned and adjusted her monocle. "Headmaster Dumbledore. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"It's time."

"Time?" Amelia Bones shook her head. "For what?"

"Harry sends his regards. He says..." Dumbledore swallowed visibly, obviously emotional. "He says you're a good woman, and you shouldn't ever change."

The head of the DMLE knew that tone of voice all too well. That's the tone one used when talking about someone's last words, their will... Telling someone that a loved one was to die.

"I don't understand... Why... What's happening."

"I don't understand either Madam Bones..." Dumbledore sighed wearily. "This isn't the time for secrets. Can you tell me what he wants from you?"

Ten long seconds passed, then she nodded. "Come on over. I'll give you two minutes."

Albus Dumbledore, being the headmaster, was able to travel through the floo. He muttered a simple incantation, a command, and took two steps forward, disappearing through the green flames.

He reappeared in a tidy, well-kept study. Yellow lighting illuminated the rather bare square room. Wooden shelves lined the wall, a simple table and chair sat in one corner. Madam Bones sat down behind the desk, and gestured to a chair in front of her.

"A few months back," she started, with no prologue, "Harry Potter and some wizard who called himself Merlin approached me. I realized only a while back, that they're the same person."

Dumbledore gravely inclined his head.

"He wanted a list, of all the people I thought could be trusted inside the Ministry... And all those I was certain would suppose Lord Voldemort's bid for power." She smiled thinly at Dumbledore's arched brow. "I no longer fear the name, Albus."

"That is good to hear. Commendable, Madam."

"I'm sure it is," she replied dryly. "It was only a month ago, that Harry came to me and told me why he wanted that list. He intends for me to stage a..." She shook her head wearily and grinned a bit. "It's crazy."

"Things are seldom what they seem when it comes to Harry Potter," Dumbledore offered cryptically. "What did he want you to stage?"

"A coup."

Whatever possible answers Dumbledore had thought of, this wasn't one. A most undignified sound escaped his throat.

Madam Bones shrugged. "He calls it a revolution."

Dumbledore sighed. "Of course he would."

(0)

The Gaunt Shack no longer existed. Rubble littered the entire area, the skeleton frame of the once-proud once-mansion was torn down to the ground. Smoke was scattered high up in the air, the acrid smell of fumes was everywhere.

Wood groaned here, there - everywhere. Fallen timber burned fiercely, orange, green - even purple flames - formed a cage all around the clearing.

And in the center, seemingly untouched by all the destruction around them, stood two...

One was tall, bone-white, resembled a skeleton. Black robes hung off him, in perfect condition. Dark clouds buffeted around his feet. Tom Riddle Junior, the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort.

Across him stood a boy - no man - someone who was pretty much everything Voldemort wasn't. A Warrior, a Knight, a Hero.
He was dressed immaculately, his suit in pristine condition. Green eyes glowed, blood ran from the scar on his forehead.

Harry had hardly ever felt more alive. Never, never had he unleashed his magic completely like this, for it would burn him up. He was no longer cared about that.

It was Endgame, after all.

"Why fight, Harry?" Voldemort questioned, as if asking an old friend.

Harry grinned. "Someone has to."

Voldemort frowned. "Curious."

"You want an easy answer, eh Tom?" Harry dug around and withdrew an orb, a crystal orb of pre-ordained destiny. Or was it? Meh.

"The Prophecy." Voldemort's eyes gleamed.

"Yes it is," Harry grinned. "Do you want to hear it? Come find me Tom."

Phoenix, fire, then nothing.

Voldemort stared at the spot where Harry had stood a few seconds ago.

A phoenix animagus. Harry Potter was full of surprises today.

But Voldemort was secure, safe. He knew it. The Diary was gone, so was the ring. Nagini was dead. That was three horcruxes. Which was the fourth that Potter had got?

No matter, Voldemort would find out. Right after he killed the annoying brat. The surprisingly powerful brat. An equal.

Voldemort concentrated, and saw where Harry was - through their mental link. He knew he was hurting Potter, causing intense pain through the boy's scar. Good.

Voldemort stared around at the destruction they had caused. They were gods among men, no one - not even Dumbledore had reached their level. The magic they had used here...

Voldemort lifted a foot and looked at the black ground below. It was barren, dead.

It would always be.

(0)

By the time Voldemort arrived, Harry had already cut through half a street of undead.

"Do you like my army, Harry?"

Harry waved his wand in an intricate motion, spewing out a fiery lash of flame. It cut through seven inferi.

It didn't completely stop them.

"It's a nice touch," Harry agreed, reaching up to loosen his tie. "How many cemeteries did you plunder?"

Voldemort smiled, and it was terrifying. "Who said they were dead before they were undead?"

"See?" Harry pointed a wand at the Dark Lord. "That's exactly the kind of stuff that makes me want to kill you."

Voldemort responded with a black curse, that made a sizzling noise as it flew towards Harry.

Harry waved his wand, and a silvery shield sprung into existence. The black spell hit the shield with an explosion of light and sound. Harry was sent through the air.

Harry turned it into a backflip and landed on his feet, sliding back a few feet. Movie-stuff.

Harry brushed off dirt from his pants. His jacket button had come undone. Harry frowned at that, and carefully did it up again.

"This Tom, this is why I'm still alive, and you're going to die." Harry held up a crystal orb. "You've done a lot based on this, haven't you? Even without knowing the full extent of it... Here's your chance."

Voldemort raised an upturned palm. "Give it, Harry."

Harry smirked and lobbed it. "Catch."

And Voldemort caught it. He raised his wand to activate the crystal, and Harry's grin widened.

"Boom." Harry said conversationally.

Boom! The crystal exploded in Voldemort's face.

(0)

"I'm going to enjoy killing you, Potter."

"You keep saying that Tom," Harry replied airily.

They were floating in the air, somewhere in Scotland. Harry wasn't too sure exactly where... The ground could no longer contain them, so he'd taken to the air.

Harry grinned widely, drawing another orb from his jacket pocket. "The Prophecy, Tom."

Voldemort growled. As loath as he was to admit it, the stunt Potter had pulled with that exploding crystal ball had taken quite a bit out of him.

Voldemort flicked his wrist, smashing the orb as it sailed towards him. Ominous words came from nowhere, the voice of one particular divination teacher.

He heard the Prophecy, and smiled his lipless smile. "Does it not frighten you, Potter?" Voldemort sent a jet of green light at Harry. "To know, how futile all your actions are, that inevitably, you must die at my hand. For neither can live while the other survives... and Death will never take me."

Harry gave the Dark Lord a mocking bow. "We'll see now, won't we?"

And the fight resumed, with plenty of bangs, flashes of light, fire, lightning and destruction.

The fight would go on, for the better part of two hours. The fight had been going on for years, twice over for Harry. And now...

Now, Endgame.

(0)

"What's happening?" Ginny asked Tonks in an urgent whisper.

"There's been some sort of magical fight," Tonks replied, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. No one was. The majority were dancing, or sipping wine, making small talk, playing their intricate political games.

The Christmas Ball. This was the first time she was invited, and she felt a bit odd. Surprisingly, Ginny seemed at ease with all the attention that came her way - what with her looking so stunningly beautiful, and hanging on the arm of the boy-who-lived. Almost as if she was experienced, like Narcissa Malfoy.

Ginny had noticed something was wrong. Messengers had come in and gone out, more than a few people had suddenly left, and the aurors seemed bunch in one corner.

"A fight?" Ginny echoed. "Where? Death Eaters?"

"I'm not sure, but this is big. And it seems to be happening at random places." Tonks shook her head. "For the magic to be detected here by the sensors, the amount of raw power used around these areas must be really, really high." Her look turned speculative. "Probably has something to do with You-Know-Who... He's the only one capable of this. Or perhaps Dumbledore. I wonder why he hasn't asked the Order to meet up yet."

Ginny's thoughts were whirling. There was one person who had the power...

"Ginny?" Tonks waved a hand in front of her face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine..."

"Uhuh." Tonks didn't sound too convinced. "Say, where's Harry?"

Unfortunately, Ginny had a very good idea. "Tonks, I got to go."

"You can't just leave -"

"You have to help me. I need to go to Hogwarts, now!" Ginny's eyes flashed fiercely.

Tonks met her eyes. A few tense moments passed, then she nodded.

"Okay."

(0)

The bells of Hogwarts were situated in a tiny room just off the headmasters office. With a heavy heart, Dumbledore stepped into the cavity.

Wrinkled, white fingers clasped a pitch black hammer. Dumbledore lifted it, and with surprising strength smashed it down down upon the simple bell that hung suspended from the ceiling. Despite it being made of glass, the bell did not break.

Instead, an eerie sound resonated, a dull throb, loud at the same time.

All over Hogwarts, activity stopped. Peeves froze, a water balloon dropping down harmlessly. Ahead of him, stiffened, her ears twitching.

Filch stopped rubbing a mirror clean.

The ghosts all stopped whatever they were doing.

The teachers stilled.

Students paused.

Everyone stalled as the bell tolled. Once, twice, thrice.

Then, pandemonium.

(0)

"Professor! What was that?"

McGonagall ignored the girl, striding to the center of the common room.

"Everybody! I want everybody assembled and ready to move in five minutes. Get changed, wear something warm. Forget your trunks, books and any personal belongings. And for heavens sake, don't forget your wand."

The same conversation was taking place in the other common rooms.

"We'll be leaving through the headmasters floo. I want everyone to remain calm, there is no need to panic." Flitwick gazed around at the young faces, only five of them. The rest had all left for the Christmas holidays.

"Miss Lovegood, not you. You need to come with me. The headmaster is waiting for you."

(0)

The teachers watched as the last of the students plunged through green flames.

"That's all of them Albus," Flitwick announced.

Dumbledore looked up from the corner, where he had been involved in discussion with Luna Lovegood.

"Very well." He stood, and took slow steps to the center of the room. Around him were spread out the staff of Hogwarts, and Luna Lovegood.

"Voldemort is coming here." He ignored the shocked gasps and hissed. "I will not force any of you to fight. In fact, it might be preferable for you to sit this out. You may leave, if you so desire. In the unlikely event that I fall in the upcoming battle, I feel I must tell all of you..."

He paused and stared around, blue eyes not twinkling, but intense all the same.

"It has been an honour, and a privilege, to work with you all. Thank you."

(0)

"Voldemort is going to come calling for you. Remember, I am your leader. You answer to me - you will help me - and in return, I will help you."

The werewolf gazed long and hard at Harry.

"You defeated the strongest of us," he stated bluntly. "You are pack leader. I will follow - we will all follow."

"Join Voldemort's army. Wait for it to assemble. Then rip it apart from the inside."

Harry didn't wait for an answer, his features blurring, shrinking, expanding. He morphed into a grey wolf - a final reminder to the werewolves - that he was the pack leader, they answered to him.

The grey wolf slunk off into the night.

The werewolf he had been speaking to was the second in command of the pack. Now, the man turned around, and nodded at the others.

"Prepare for battle."

(0)

The stage was set. Voldemort stood at the far end of the grounds. Harry stood by the great doors that served as entrance to the castle, Dumbledore by his side, a few teachers behind him.

"Draw the wards back, as far as where we are."

Dumbledore frowned, but did as he asked.

"I need you to protect the school. Some of Voldemort's forces will try to sneak in, attack from the flanks. Guard the walls, don't let anyone get inside. I trust you can do that."

Dumbledore nodded. "I can. What about you - what will you do?"

Harry smiled, and turned around, beckoning for Lua to join him.

"I'll kill Voldemort."

(0)

Voldemort watched the boy approach. For once, the boy's suit was unbuttoned, the silver tie was loose. Harry came to a stop, only twenty odd meters separating the two.

The girl behind him was odd - she wore radish earrings, what looked like a bathrobe, and smiled at him. It unnerved Voldemort.

"I see your forces are spread thin. Not many turned up to fight did they?"

The lipless mouth curled in fury. His commanders had told him the army had been assembled - only to be torn apart by infighting. Somehow, Potter had won over the werewolves. As a result, only a handful were behind him. Voldemort debated with himself - should he retreat? Perhaps he would - after he had seen Potter lying dead by his feet.

The sounds of an explosion reached them - seemingly from the sides of the castle.

"I believe your pitiful forces have encountered rather strong opposition." Harry grinned. "Come Voldemort, let us end this."

A torrent of black flames leapt from the yew wand, only to be pushed back by a similar red fire from the Deathstick. The flames fought against each other. Voldemort broke the connection, sending out a few cutters arcing through the air.

Harry responded with a combination of shields and levitation - raising small rocks to stop the spells.

Voldemort sent off another string of curses, Harry counteracted by activating the Priori Incantatem. The golden beads pulsed back and forth, but slowly and surely, Harry forced it towards Voldemort.

With a soundless snarl, the Dark Lord twisted his wand. The point of contact at the Priori Incantatem began to swell.

Magic exploded, accompanied by soundless light. Harry and Voldemort both put up shields, Harry extending his to cover Luna. It only lasted for a few seconds before dying down.

They began to circle each other, green eyes meeting red. Behind Harry, Luna kept pace. And then Voldemort stopped. On their right was the forbidden forest. On the left rose Hogwarts.

Slowly, very slowly, Voldemort raised his wand, the weapon held delicately between three fingers. Eleven inches of Yew arced high over the Dark Lord's head, ready to swing down...

Harry gestured behind his back - Luna ran forward to stand just behind him.

"Open your eyes, open your mind. See clearly, tell me where to direct everything."

Luna said nothing. She needed to say nothing.

"Harry!"

The boy turned his head. Ginny Weasley was running right at them, red hair streaming out behind her, stumbling over her dress robes.

Harry smiled wryly. He should have known she would come.

Ahead, Voldemort's wand arced down.

"Avada Kedavra."

The sickly beam of green and black sped at Harry, the sound of leathery wings fluttering through a starless vacuum accompanying it, the light around the curse disappearing into a vortex of purest black.

As the beam bore down on him, Harry smiled at her. Ginny could only watch, as the killing curse struck him, right above the heart.

In the split-second, as the curse hit the boy, Harry glowed. The green light disappeared.

Silence. One second. Two.

A massive vortex of light exploded out of Harry - a rolling, booming, ponderous sound accompanying it. Swathes of purple and blue roiled and swirled, obscuring everything.

And then the explosion. Ginny barely had time to shield herself, as the shockwave sent her flying backwards, tumbling across the grass. At the castle doors, Dumbledore felt it, his hat falling off, beard waving.

The sound and light died away, as suddenly as it came.

The final vestiges of a golden shield glimmered around Luna as she lay on the ground, before flickering away into nothingness.

Ashes. Where the Dark Lord stood- ashes. Where Harry Potter stood - ashes.

Ginny Weasley felt her stomach turn. Heart in mouth, she ran forward, her mind refusing to believe what her eyes saw.

She fell to her knees, right by where Harry stood, staring in shock and disbelief at the scorched earth, the grey ash.

Something caught her eye. Very slowly, hand trembling, she reached out, brushing away a bit of ash.

The Phoenix Feather glittered red and gold, nestled in the ash.

Ginny Weasley smiled.

(0)

And curtains.

When I first mapped it out, I thought of Harry going deep into the magical dimension and all sorts of stuff, it hasn't panned out, and I do hope the ending wasn't too bad. I've left it very open ended, you can imagine whatever happens. Does Amelia Bones reform the Ministry...does Harry live? You decide.

I always wanted it to be an open-ended ending, leaving you wondering if Harry was alive or not, but without all the massive plot holes that have opened up.

Thanks to the OYA beta group for help with the earlier chapters, and FreelanceBum for wasting my time. I jest.

Thank you all for reading, thanks for your support. Hope to see you over at To Master The Dark.

Cheers,
timefreak