Harry turned his back on Ron and Hermione.
"Don't follow me," he whispered to the air in front of him hoarsely. They had stuck by him all year, but now was the time that they must let him go – Ginny too.
He could hear the fierce and terrible battle being fought behind him in Hogsmeade; could hear the screams and cries of agony and horror. The last battle. The deciding battle. The sounds were muffled though; like hearing them through a glass wall. It was time to seek his real battle… with Voldemort.
"You two should get back there, they need all the members of the Order that are left," said Harry, wishing they didn't have to go back. He knew there was only a slight chance they'd survive it.
"You're a member too!" Hermione protested. Harry knew she was crying. He couldn't face them though, because if he did he might not be able to turn back around.
"Ginny will need you guys, there are a lot of Death Eaters back there… not to mention what's left of the giants and Dementors."
"Mate-" Ron began.
"Stop it!" Harry took a breath. Your family is back there, Ron. They need you!" Harry paused. "And I need to do this…alone."
"We know that Harry, we've known since the beginning that you need to do it alone. And – and I thought that when the time came – now – that I could let you go face him but… but-" Hermione sobbed, "now that the time has come it's just the hard-hardest thing to watch your back." Her voice broke and Harry felt his heart break with it.
Don't turn around his mind screamed at him. If you do, you'll never be able to do it. Don't turn!
"We'll… we'll see you when you come back."Ron said it like a promise, even though he had to choke it out.
Hermione sobbed again and squeezed his hand from behind. Then he heard the sound of their feet on the ground… walking away – back to battle. Turn around! Turn around! His mind was shouting at him. Harry whirled around, ignoring the warning voice in the back of his head. He opened his mouth but didn't say anything, just watched them walk back hand in hand to the now ruined village of Hogsmeade, where Aurors, the Order and the rest of the Wizarding World were fighting the side of Voldemort.
The last battle.
And they had said they couldn't look at his back. He was the one watching their silhouettes walking away slowly but purposefully. Harry looked past them; Hogsmeade was ablaze and glowing red against the black, starless sky.
He turned. His time was up. He began the walk to Hogwarts with his whole body numb and cold. Who would have guessed that Voldemort would have taken advantage of Hogwarts being closed for the year – his seventh year – and use it as a base and a hiding place? Who would have guessed.
Harry kept walking, the Astronomy Tower was coming into view. Memories were flashing through his mind with every step. Ron laughing… Hermione studying… Ginny kissing him… Mrs Weasley feeding him… Hagrid singing to Norbert… his Hogwarts letter… Aunt Petunia getting a Howler from Dumbledore. Dumbledore…Dumbledore talking, Dumbledore duelling, Dumbledore's Pensieve, Dumbledore smiling at him over half-moon glasses… Neville under Fully Body Bind… Madam Pince glaring… Easter Eggs in the library with Ginny… drinking Felix Felicis – that perfect evening… a white ferret… Snape cursing him… Hedwig biting him… Room of Requirement… Dobby, the Basilisk, Moaning Myrtle, Fat Lady, Peeves, Sirius, McGonagall, Dudley, Mad-Eye, Triwizard Tournament, Sorcerer's stone, Azkaban, Quidditch, Fleur, Loony Luna, Umbridge, Dumbedore's Army – his Mum and Dad – lightening shaped scar – Horcruxes – R.A.B. – Naigini… Voldemort.
The memories whirled about him, teasing and taunting, laughing and leering until they came to a stop and he found himself on the edge of Hogwarts grounds and walking towards the front doors. Somehow Harry knew that He would be in the Great Hall.
There were no traps, no curses that came from nowhere… only dark, cold silence.
Harry opened the doors and stepped into the foyer. He eyed the doors to the Great Hall, prepared himself for a shield charm, took a deep breath and opened them.
The Hall was dim and it actually felt different to how Harry knew it. He could sense Dark magic all around him, suffocating him from all sides… He looked dead ahead.
He was staring at him from Dumbledore's throne like chair, his long and pale fingers stroking his wand.
His voice was high and cold. "Good evening, Potter."
"For who…" Harry paused and thought what to call him. Then he remembered Dumbledore. "… Tom."
Voldemort's eyes narrowed into even smaller slits, but Harry could still see their blood red colour from where he stood. Gripping his wand tighter, he stepped further into the Hall.
A flash of green light hit the wall beside him. Harry felt his breath get caught in his throat.
"Just keeping you on your toes, Potter."
Harry's heart pounded heavily and loudly. So Voldemort intended it to be cat-and-mouse.
Another flash of green light and cruel, mocking laughter filled the Hall unpleasantly, ringing off the high walls. Harry has shouted 'Protego!' but the curse had again, only hit the wall beside him.
"Ah, Potter, I never know why I take you for a threat because face-to-face… you're just a boy."
"You murdered as a boy," Harry replied evenly.
"I was more powerful at that age than you could ever be," Voldemort hissed.
"Crucio!"
"Pro-"
Pain. Excruciating pain. Harry heard more cruel, inhuman laughter, but it was vague… at the back of his mind. The pain was all he could think about. Kill me now!
Then it was gone and he was left on the ground, shaking still from the memory of the pain.
"You're a mystery, Potter. How did you escape me all these years?" Voldemort surveyed him over his long interlocked fingers, a twisted smile on his thin lips.
"Crucio!"
It was worse. He wanted to die, he saw no reason why he shouldn't die. To die would be like winning over the pain. Kill me! Kill me now!
The pain left as abruptly as it came. Harry was panting, still on the ground, unable to open his eyes.
"Kill you?" Voldemort was saying. "Why? That would end the fun, Potter." Harry realised he'd been screaming for Voldemort to kill him out loud.
Voldemort raised him again, and Harry was lost to a world of dark pain. He was screaming, something was hurting his leg, death loomed over him. He opened his eyes, it was gone again. He was on his stomach, his fingers were digging so hard into his legs that there was blood.
"Now that you're in the proper position, bow to me, Potter."
Harry lay there, hatred for himself and Voldemort was coursing through him. He didn't have the strength to move, but even if he did, he would never obey.
"Bow to me!" A pause. "Imperio!"
Just bow.
No.
What's the harm? Bow.
No, I won't.
Bow, then it'll be over. Just bow.
I said, NO!
Harry rose to his bloodied knees. "I won't."
"No?" Voldemort's voice was even more cold. "Once again, Potter, you need a lesson in obedience. Crucio!"
He fell face first onto the floor again, the pain controlling his body so that he couldn't see, think or feel anything but pain. It lasted longer than any of the other times and Harry was dizzy when he forced himself to stagger to his feet.
"Ready to obey, Potter?" mocked the frozen voice.
Harry shook his head, trying not to fall to his knees.
"Really? When will you learn, Potter?"
Harry braced himself, summing up every fibre of strength he has left in him.
"Crucio!"
"PROTEGO!"
The curse rebounded of him and vanished. Harry saw surprise flicker across his enemy's pale face. Dizziness overcame him but he remained upright, swaying slightly.
"While you're keeping me on my feet, Tom, let's talk about the number seven." Harry took a deep breath and stood straight.
Voldemort watched him, eyes narrowed.
"Let's talk about the number seven and… your soul."
Harry felt the atmosphere change instantly, saw Voldemort sit just a little bit straighter in the chair.
"What do you mean, Potter?" Voldemort spat.
Harry grinned recklessly, spreading his hands.
"The diary." He took a step closer. "Gone. But you knew that already."
Another step closer. "The ring. Dumbledore took care of that one."
Harry stumbled a bit but kept moving slowly closer.
Voldemort gave a low hiss. "How…"
"Slytherin's locket," Harry continued without skipping a beat. "You knew Regulus Black, didn't you? He destroyed the locket."
Voldemort stood up, eyes burning.
"The cup. That was Helga Hufflepuff's. You hid it in the Prewett's house the night you killed them. Molly Weasley will be pleased that her brothers will be avenged." Harry took yet another step closer, as Voldemort took one backward.
"Rowena Ravenclaw's wand. I lost two fingers for that." Harry held up his the last two fingers of his left hand, both black and shrivelled. "Dumbledore told me how. I'm sure you've come across his portrait while you've been here. You wanted the sword, didn't you? Gryffindor's sword? You never got it though… and now I have it."
Voldemort backed away from Harry, knocking Dumbledore's chair to the ground and one of the top bits broke off. His wand was raised.
"Avada Kedavra! AVADA KEDAVRA!" he yelled.
Harry dodged the first and blocked the second, wincing at its force. The first left a giant hole in the wall behind him.
"And Naigini… the hardest of all," Harry continued, panting. Blocking the curse had taken a lot of precious energy. "But Peter Pettigrew helped with that. Debt repaid."
Harry flicked his wand and the body of Naigini fell into a pitiful heap at the hem of Voldemort's robes.
"That leaves…" Harry pointed his wand directly at Voldemort. "You."
Voldemort looked at Harry with the most human expression on his face that Harry had ever seen. Fear.
"Death doesn't seem so impossible now, does it, Tom?" Harry whispered, feeling only loathing and disgust for the thing in front of him.
When Harry looked back later, he realised that Voldemort had died at that moment. Once he knew that he was mortal… Being mortal was like being dead, to him. After knowing this, the last part of Voldemort's soul died by itself.
After a half-hearted duel, Harry said the spell that struck home. Voldemort staggered once and fell, his head falling on Dumbledore's overturned chair. There were no curses on his family, no cries of anger or rage or even defeat… no nothing.
Harry felt cold and hollow, there was no feeling. All his life, the prophecy, the training, all he has worked for and had been waiting for this moment… and now that moment was swiftly passing. He'd imagined this moment differently in his mind. He imagined being surrounded by loved ones, the sun shining, the Wizarding World safe. Not this. Not this dim, empty moment where nothing was certain beyond the doors. Not this feeling of devoid of any purpose, or wanting to fall to the ground and just… be.
Harry walked blindly out of the Hall and out the front doors and to the top of the steps. He dropped his wand and sunk to the ground, his eye closed and head bent.
And that was how they found him. Alone and lost on the front steps. He felt them surround him, heard them murmur in disbelief that the Dark Lord was dead.
And then he felt three familiar bodies surround him, Ron, Ginny and Hermione. Felt Ginny slip her hand into his and sensed Ron and Hermione stand beside him.
He did not ask how many were dead, did not ask who or how bad the damage. That would come later. All he wanted now was… this. He wanted this. He never did know how many people stood on the front steps and lawn of Hogwarts, but he knew they were there, and together, they watched the first pinkish tinges of light over the horizon.
A new dawn.
A/N - Hey guys! Couldn't resist posting a little something. Hope to see some familiar faces reviewing, I miss you guys so much. I'm working slowly and leisurely on my next fic (because, as my beta reminds me, I'm on a hiatus and that means no writing - hmmm) but the important thing is that there will BE a next fic. So until then, hope you enjoyed this! Sede. PS – excuse terrible spelling/grammar mistakes.