I do not own Harry Potter and Co.

Thanks Ewe-know-who for being my Beta

The End

Harry Potter walked like a man on a mission. His perfect posture, steady gaze, and brisk walk looked out of place on the 17 year old body. The dirt road that Harry traveled was over grown with weeds and wild flowers from years of little use. With out even a blink, Harry stepped over yet another tree root gliding out of the dirt from one of the trees growing at the side of the road. He truly was a man on a mission, he had to get to the cottage, he had to get home.

Soon, but not soon enough in Harry's agitated mind, he found himself standing before a gate. Harry knew he had arrived at his destination with out having to look at the two story cabin. However, looking at the deserted home one could tell that something of importance had happened there. There was no visable sign to a muggle that there had ever been an altercation much less the ultimate fight leading to the down fall of perhaps the most evil wizard which had happened within the brick house that Harry stared at now. The once natural brick that had shown its array of color so simply was now a charred soot covered with over grown English ivy. The empty shell of a house telling eyes that there had once been a fire many years ago. The smell of black smoke still hung in the air bringing with it a cloud of memory that Harry could not see through. This house held his infancy in memories not able to be released.

The yard was grown high with grass not cut in years and looked like a welcoming spot for deer wishing fresh air and descent hiding. What once might have been a flower bed was now nothing but wild flowers sprawled about a simple, worn stone bench. Around the wild yard where a once white, waist high picket fence stood was now a weathered, grey one with many broken rungs and a few that were missing altogether.

It was at the disheveled gate of this fence that Harry still stood taking in the sight before him. He hadn't expected to be able to see the cottage for he knew that it was this place which was the secret that the other marauder held. The smell of flowers hung in the air. A single sent can bring out any host of memories with a slight whiff. Harry's nose had caught both the smell and the memory from the first moment. Harry smiled; he knew how he had found this hidden place. The secret was hidden in that flower sent, the sent of lilies, the sent of his mum.

Many emotions ran through Harry as he went through the gate and up the stone path, also overgrown with foliage, to the front door. He no longer walked with serious determination. His steps told of caution as he weaved his way along the path. His head was cocked slightly to the side giving him a quizzical appearance. Looking into his eyes, however, one could see fear in their depths. Yes, Harry Potter was afraid and if he had stopped and pondered he could not have said of what he was afraid.

There were many things that could have caused fear in Harry. One thing was that most of the wizarding world was in a war and things did not look good for Harry's side. Another was that there were death eaters out there with specific orders to find him and bring him to Voldimort to be killed. Harry could have also found fear in going in to that house that held so much meaning for him and finding nothing. However, none of those were the cause of the fear in Harry's eyes.

Harry stood at the front door with his hand on the knob. This was it. This was the moment that he had thought of, had anticipated since before he had told Hermione and Ron of his plan almost a year ago. His breath was heavy. Slowly Harry turned the door knob, preparing himself for dust, knowing that everything could be strewn about. He would not have been surprised to find the cottage as empty as it looked from the out side.

Harry opened the door and stepped inside. As his eyes adjusted to the light change what he saw came as a surprise.

Harry shut his eyes tight, counted to five, and opened them one more. However, nothing had changed in those five seconds and it didn't appear that anything had changed in the past 15 years or longer.

Harry walked further in letting the door shut behind him. His eyes were surveying the living room as he tripped almost losing his balance completely. Further examination of the offending object showed that what Harry had tripped on was a line of shoes. There were three pairs; a pair of plain white, women's tennis shoes, a pair of men's loafers, and a mirror image of the loafers in a miniature size. Harry thought about the owners of those shoes but before he could shed a single tear in their memory a chime sounded.

Harry walked over to the living room fire place with the still ticking clock on its mantel. On either side of the clock were pictures of both the wizard and the muggle kind. The one that caught his eye was nothing more than a wizard photo of a three person family.

The woman in the photograph looked young for a wife and mother but could be nothing else to the two males also in the picture. She looked to be about 20 years of age despite her auburn hair cut in a short fashion usually found on older women. Harry knew why the woman had cut her hair so short when he saw the baby on her lap make a grab for her hair, catching nothing. The man beside her grabbed the young child's hand as the child made for another grab. The young man looked to be roughly the same age as the young woman at his side. While he held one arm lovingly around his wife's waist the hand of his other arm went in no organized fashion or order from being wrapped around his child's hand to being placed upon his lap to running through his already messed, black locks. One could tell that his wife found humor in the last mentioned act for every time he did it Harry could see the smile in her eyes and every so often she would suppress a laugh behind her hand. Harry let out a chuckle at the merriment of the couple and let his eyes focus on them a bit longer. However, when he finally laid his eyes on the child he was a bit surprised.

Had Harry not been immersed so in the wizarding world for almost 7 years he would have laughed and exclaimed, "mini-me." However, this opportunity was lost on the young wizard. What Harry could tell was that the baby in the photograph, despite being only about one year old, was almost a small duplicate of his father. Not only were the two males similar in looks but they wore matching outfits from their blue button up shirts to their matching loafers-the same shoes Harry had tripped on moments before. The only significant difference between the two was the eyes. The father had milk chocolate brown eyes behind his black framed glasses. The young boy, however, wore no glasses to hide his dazzling green eyes. Even without looking Harry knew those same emerald eyes shone from the boys mother.

The pain in Harry's scar intensified bringing with it the reminder of time. Even though he knew that time was short, Harry took one last look at the family he had lost. His eyes lingered on the silky smooth forehead of the little boy noticing its pre-scar form. Suddenly, Harry's scar surged with pain once more bringing him out of this state. He knew that some where Voldemort was very happy and Harry needed to find out why. Time was of the essence.

Harry wanted to see one more thing before he left. He wanted to see where it had happened. He wanted to once more be in the room where events had transpired changing his world, his life forever.

Having climbed some stairs, Harry found himself looking down a hallway on the second floor. There were a few doors on either side of the short hallway. With nothing to lose and only on instinct Harry opened a door. Finding first only a small bathroom with a pink tub and then finding only a closet full of bath towels and sheets, he ventured another door.

On the other side of the brown, wooden door was a room that must have been the young couple's bedroom. There was a full sized bed, two night stands, a dresser, and a small vanity. Although not his destination Harry ventured inside the modest bedroom to look at the objects on the vanity.

One would expect to find make-up, perfume, and jewelry on a vanity. This vanity, however, held old sneak-o-scopes, a handheld make-up mirror that showed the front entrance rather than the looker's face, and other devices to detect dark wizards. As Harry looked at the array of magic detectors he imagined what they had been doing that night long ago. He could see in his mind the sneak-o-scopes spinning at a warped speed rather than the slow, lazy circles they made now.

Harry was so far in his own world that he could almost hear his mother scream. In fact he did hear a woman scream, although, it was not his mother. Harry knew that voice and ran out of the bedroom straight to the next door.

Even though barely more than a second passed between the scream and Harry reaching the door, he was able to process many facts. The scream came from the room adjacent to the bedroom the young couple from the photograph had occupied. The couple had a baby whom they would want near by for night time awakenings and emergencies. The door Harry stood before hid a room that had seen terrible events years ago. This was not the first time screams had issued from the other side of this door.

Harry's heart was beating fast, but before his heart beat a second time he flung the door wide open. At that moment there was a pop that did not have time to register in his mind as Harry ran to the fallen body before him. Another pop sounded from the door way. This time Harry heard it and instantly knew its meaning.

Turning around Harry saw that he was right. Standing before him was what had once been a man. The wizard, for that was what he was, was tall and thin. His long pre-dawn black robes shifted in the non wind. One of his hands was hidden from Harry's view by the long sleeves. The other hand sported long slender fingers wrapped around a 13 ½ inch, yew wand pointed directly at Harry's chest. Upon the thin neck of the wizard was a pale, completely bald head with a lack of color not unlike that of a pale albino. The face had the basics for a human. There were eyes, ears, a mouth, and a nose. However, none seemed human on this face. The ears were small for the head and seemed almost transparent. The mouth had only a sliver of a bottom lip and was completely barren of an upper lip. The nose did not exist but for two small slits which could be nothing other than nostrils. The brow-less and lash-less eyes were a red reminiscent of fresh blood. Their wide shape and cat-like pupils could only remind one of looking into a snake's eyes. In fact the wizard before Harry looked more like a snake than a man.

"So good of you to join us, Harry," hissed the armed wizard. "You have not kept us here long but it seems to have taken a lifetime to get here."

"Voldemort!" Every bone in Harry's young body felt repulsed not by the spoken name as others but by the man in front of him. The man who ruled death eaters. The death eaters who at that moment were torturing and killing muggles, muggle borns, and muggle supporters. This man, himself had tortured and killed. He had ruined many lives. The man who stood before Harry was the very man who ruined his life over 16 years ago and was going to continue to do so until one of them died. The man before Harry was Voldemort.

"I see that the proper fear has not been instilled in you. Let us see if we can manage that before you die." Voldemort let out a cruel chuckle as a girlish groan came from the fallen form behind Harry.

"An impressive lineage your girl has, Potter. A long line of witches and wizards," Voldemort hissed as Harry helped the girl up. "And the first girl of seven generations. The seventh born of the seventh born, too, I've heard. Impressive indeed, Potter. However, a Weasley?"

Suddenly blue sparks shot out of Voldemort's wand. Harry and Ginny pushed away from each other as the blue light passed between them. Harry shot a nervous look at the red head as she stumbled. Upon seeing that she did not fall he returned his gaze to the dark wizard before him.

"Part of a well known blood traitor family," Voldemort sneered. "My Nagini attacked Ms. Weasley's muggle-crazed father, I believe. Too bad he survived. Although, that did lead to a very enlightening discovery." Voldemort paused as his eyes went up to Harry's scar. "Perhaps I shouldn't kill her as a thank you to him," As his gaze went from Ginny to Harry an evil grin appeared on Voldemort's face making him appear even less like a man than he already did. "However, she is your girl."

Harry's heart stopped beating as Voldemort turned his attention and wand to Ginny. Voldemort hissed, "Avada Kedavra," as green light emanated from his wand,

Harry had been expecting these words the moment he saw Voldemort standing in the doorway. The instant the word "kill" escaped Voldemort's lips Harry knew to be on his guard.

The moment was less than a second but as the green light sprinted towards Ginny, Harry shifted his body.

Had Harry had time to think he would have remembered his purpose to end the life of the other wizard in the room. He would have known that he needed to live to end all of the havoc the evil man was conducting. However, Harry did not have time to think. The only thought that entered his mind as he raced to meet the emerald blaze was to stop it before it could capture its intended.

Harry did not know, nor did he have time to wonder, if it was Ginny he heard scream or his mother's echo before the curse made contact with his chest.

Harry did not feel his heart start again.