Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JKRs
This is from a group of four oneshots themed on the ideas of love and perfection, (they're all on different pairings and can be read separately).
Remorse... :Love and Perfection:
Spells flew back and forth relentlessly. Hermione ducked a hex and instinctively retaliated, turning to see the Death Eater crumple to the ground. The Great Hall was a seething mass of duelling bodies. Hermione scanned the crowd, searching for him. For Harry. She spotted him and her heart almost stopped. He and Voldemort stood alone where the Head Table once stood, separate from everyone else. The duel between them was ferocious.
Hermione sprinted towards them from where she had been standing at the other end of the Hall, slowed by the curses coming at her from all sides. She kept fighting her way through the crowd, instinct protecting her as her eyes were fixed on the pair duelling alone. She desperately tried to reach them but could tell from the duel's increasingly furious pace that she would never arrive before the fatal spell was cast. She skidded to a halt with this realisation and stood staring, entranced. All other noises seemed to mute, deafening crashes became dull thuds, and everything else in the hall seemed to blur as the detail of the duel ahead sharpened, the duel on which the outcome of the whole world depended.
As Hermione watched the pair twist and spin, Voldemort with awkward brutality, and Harry with effortless grace, she became calm. All her worries melted away because she knew that Harry would win. Harry would win because he was everything that was good, kind, selfless and brave. Voldemort was fighting for death and hate, but Harry was fighting for life and love. Harry would win because he was perfect. Even in the midst of a battle he stood tall and unafraid, emerald eyes shining, seeming to dare Voldemort to just try and curse him. Voldemort's blood red eyes seemed to dart around, avoiding making contact with Harry's, which were so filled with the power that eluded his comprehension. The power he feared. Voldemort hissed in frustration. Harry stood unflinching and hissed back,
"This is it Tom. The end." He took a step forwards, "You should have known I would finish this. This is for anyone who has ever suffered because of you." He flicked his wand at Voldemort and the spell found its mark. It hit Voldemort in the chest and he stumbled backwards, snake-like eyes widening with fear and shock. Harry took another step towards him.
"This is for everyone who died because of you." Voldemort was paralysed, the wand which had been forced to commit so many atrocities hanging limp and useless at his side. Harry flicked his wand once more and this time Voldemort fell to his knees. Harry lifted his wand and put it against Voldemort's neck, pushing it up into his chin so he had to look at Harry's face. From where Hermione was standing she had seen the whole duel, and now she watched as it all ended. The calm that tingled through her seemed to be within Harry as well. Then again, he was the most powerful wizard to have ever lived, perhaps he had known he would win. He stood motionless, his gaze boring into Voldemort, who knelt at his feet, staring up at Harry as though gradually beginning to realise that he never stood a chance at defeating Harry. He saw in Harry's eyes the sorrow and pain of everyone he had ever harmed. He saw, and for the first time, understood. Slowly, then spreading through the Hall like a wave, silence fell. Every pair of eyes was fixed on the scene unfolding before them. There was complete and utter silence for a heartbeat, nobody breathed, nobody moved, nobody spoke.
"Voldemort." Harry hissed in parseltongue, the word echoing around the room. "You were once Tom." he spoke, reverting to English. There was a pause, and he lowered his wand. "Be that boy again, the boy before he was turned bitter, cruel and heartless. Think of what you have done." Voldemort couldn't help but do as Harry said, and for the first time in his life, he felt guilty. This teenager in front of him, more powerful than he could ever wish to be, had managed to make him feel truly repentant. "Think of what people have suffered at your hands." Voldemort did, and remorse flowed through him. Regret at the pain he had caused, the deaths he had brought about.
Instantly a searing pain tore through him. Such true sorrow and guilt was too much for his mutilated soul to endure. He screamed and his body convulsed violently as he felt the fragment of soul encased in his body ripped painfully free. A final sigh escaped his lips and he stilled. His soul slipped away and Tom Riddle drew a final breath, his last feelings the most noble he had ever had.
Harry closed his eyes and exhaled. It was over. The stillness shattered and the Great Hall erupted into cheers and celebrations, all Death Eaters lying motionless on the floor, having collapsed when Voldemort did. Hermione flew towards Harry and threw herself towards him.
"I knew you could do it." She whispered, before he swept her up in his arms and kissed her like he never wanted to stop. They finally came up for air and stood with their arms wrapped around each other. Hermione reached up and traced his scar with her fingertips. Even his imperfections were perfect in her eyes. Unintentionally voicing her thoughts she whispered,
"You're perfect…"