Disclaimer: I am not profiting from this, nor do I own Harry Potter or any merchandise affiliated with it.

The Final Battle. Mano a mano, man to- animal?

Harry and Voldemort circled one another warily. Harry panted, moving the shreds of clothing still attached to him in a ragged up-down pattern, while Voldemort appeared to be mostly unaffected if you disregarded the slight limp from a "lucky shot."

"You should give up now, Potter," Voldemort's burgundy eyes glinted malevolently and his face twisted into a sneer, "How could a mere seventeen year old hope to defeat the greatest wizard of all time?"

"Because I've got a back up plan," Harry announced. Voldemort jumped back slightly, glancing around the darkened forest clearing for reinforcements. When he returned his gaze to where Harry had been standing to mock him for his misplaced trust in his allies, there was nothing there. He heard a slight rustling, and, down on the ground was an odd, volleyball-like brown creature with a long-ish snout and a waddling gait.

Voldemort eyed the creature suspiciously, testing whether it was a living construct, "Avada Kedavra."

The animal curled into a ball, and the green beam of light bounced off its outer protections, reflecting directly into Voldemort's left (and favorite) eye. He didn't have time to mourn the loss as his death rather overloaded all other thoughts he could be having.

Harry uncurled to the sound of a familiar shout and returned to his human form. Ron, laughing hysterically, exited the forest with Hermione at his side. Hermione was muttering to herself in shock and being half-dragged by the Weasley boy as she couldn't seem to keep moving of her own volition.

Harry looked crossly at the two, "And where were you, then?"

"Easy, mate, we just got here," Ron soothed, trying not to laugh. "I guess that animagus form wasn't altogether useless, eh?"

Harry scowled and turned away. Ron could barely hear Harry's bitter murmur of, "It's still stupid, I didn't need it," but it set him off into peals of refreshed laughter anyway.

Upon returning to Hogsmeade they were set upon by a crowd of worried students, staff, and villagers.

The noise of the crowd was near deafening and it was only with the help of the Weasley lungs and an amplification charm that Ron's bellowed, "SHUT UP!" had any effect whatsoever.

The endless chattering settled only to a dull roar. Irritated, Harry stood on a raised porch and spread his arms grandly, announcing, "Voldemort is dead!"

"HOW?" One of the loudest and most common questions escaped the overall noise of the crowd.

Harry attempted to answer but the mob overwhelmed any feeble sounds he could emit. Ron stood up with him, "QUIET AND HE'LL TELL YOU!" The mass of people slowly calmed and kept their rambling questions trapped beneath their tongues.

Harry cleared his throat, nervous in the sudden attentiveness of the group, "I defeated Voldemort with the help of my animagus form, an animal that can reflect the killing curse without any lasting effect on itself."

The crowd rumbled in intrigue, and one voice called, "What is it?"

Harry grimaced and tried to dismiss the question, "I don't think that's important-"

"This could save lives!" Rita Skeeter humphed derisively from where she'd shoved her way to the front of the crowd, a smirk belying her words.

"Priodontes maximus," Harry shot off, his eyes darting for an escape route. Hermione giggled, calmer now that she had had some time to think over what she'd seen.

"What?" Rita put her hand on her hip in disgust, "Speak English."

Harry winced in resignation. "It's a," he blushed, "a giant armadillo."

Finally, Ron thought contentedly, Silence.