Disclaimer: I don't own it and no profit is being made from my attempt to keep Harry Potter alive in my heart in the cold, bleak, and numerous hours until the 7th and final installment in the series… sniff
A/N: This story is slightly AU, in that it does acknowledge the book… w/a dash of me tossed in. I guess you should just ignore me and read. You'll figure it all out,
A/N2!!!HBP SPOILER WARNING!
Prologue
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Harry Potter watched his clock, wand in hand, entire body braced for the battle he knew would begin in less than a minute. His things were already packed and setting at the foot of his bed. The digital numbers flashed midnight in the darkness and he was gone before the wards around the house could fail. He landed in a dimly lit room that smelled like dust and death. Looking around, he saw no furniture, but there was a short, pudgy man staring out of the window. 'Wormtail…' he spoke in Parsletongue.
"Master, you've retur-!" the man turned around and his eyes widened, "You!" He searched his robes, frantically.
"You don't have a wand anymore, do you?" Harry spat, "You gave it back to your master, remember?"
"Harry… dear, dear Harry…" Wormtail started, but Harry cut him off.
"Don't even start that!" he exclaimed, "I've been looking for you. If it hadn't been for the clues that Regulus Black left behind, I never would have realized it was you."
"What are you talking about?" Wormtail asked, his voice shaking.
"The horcruxes, Pettigrew! You were so eager to prove your loyalty that you offered to host part of Voldemort's own soul. I've destroyed all of the others," Harry said, watching the man's face suddenly lose all color and his mouth open and close silently, "That only leaves you. Avada Kedavra!" He pushed all of his hatred for the man into the curse, and then the betrayal, and the anger at himself for allowing him the chance to escape in the first place, and Peter Pettigrew fell to the floor- dead.
He turned to the smoldering hearth, tossing the pouch of green powder into it. He called for Grimmauld Place, yelled 'Riddle Graveyard' and ran out of the house. He emerged from the house and headed straight toward the cemetery where he knew Voldemort would be with his precious Death Eaters. He slowed as he neared, smirking slightly when every masked face turned to gaze at him. A couple people gasped, giving Harry exactly the kind of reaction he had hoped for.
"Ah, Harry," Voldemort said, "You got to Wormtail, then?"
Harry chuckled. "That's right. Now, there's nothing to save you from a real death. You're mortal, Tom."
"How dare you call me that- that filthy name! Crucio!"
Harry dodged the curse quickly. "Is that all you've got, Tom? I'm disappointed. You'd think with all that time you had to yourself you would have come up with some new tricks."
"I'll show you new tricks… Severus, come here," Voldemort said. The man stepped forward. "I'll bet you weren't expecting that you're dear Professor Snape was in league with me all along."
Harry smirked. "No, I knew. But I bet you didn't expect that he'd been feeding information to Albus Dumbledore almost the entire time he'd been so 'loyally' serving you…"
Voldemort had the grace to look shocked. "This cannot be true… Severus, show this insolent boy where your true loyalties lie. Torture him until he begs me for death."
Severus turned to Harry, removed his mask, and sneered. He held his wand out at an arm's length, level with Harry's forehead. The boy didn't move, silently praying that he was right about the man. At the last moment, Severus turned to Lucius Malfoy and shot him square in the chest with a full-body bind, and Harry sighed in relief.
Voldemort screamed in anger, grabbing a handful of Severus' hair and shoving him to the ground. "I'll teach you to betray me! Avada…"
"Stupefy!" The curse barely missed Voldemort, but it was enough to distract him for a moment, allowing Severus to slip quickly from his clutches.
"You, too, Draco? I had such high hopes for you… no matter. You are still disposable, just like your mother… remember, boy?" Voldemort grimaced horribly.
"Bastard…" Draco growled.
Suddenly, there was a sound like firecrackers and Harry knew that his back-up had arrived. Soon after, the cemetery was a battlefield. Curses, spells, hexes, Unforgivables being shouted, whirling past him and Voldemort. Some hit their targets, others were dodged, only to hit the headstones of people long passed. Harry didn't think they would mind. It only added to the feeling that he and Voldemort were completely isolated from the rest of the fight- theirs was the war itself coming to its final culmination.
He hazarded a glance around him and saw that many had already fallen. Mainly Death Eaters, thankfully, but among the fallen he saw a patch of red hair and he had to turn away. Many of his peers had come to fight beside him. Most of whom had participated in the DA, but some who had graduated, like Oliver Wood, and others who had been recruited or had volunteered to fight alongside them. He was relieved to see that few of his friends had fallen, but he realized that with every passing second, that risk increased exponentially. He had to end this. Soon.
Voldemort cast the first hex, which Harry dodged again. It became a battle of, not only magical strength, but physical strength and agility as well. Fortunately, Harry was obviously superior in the physical aspect and he managed to dodge whatever was thrown at him. He heard a high scream and turned in time to see Ginny Weasley fall to the ground. Moments later, Bellatrix Lestrange was killed by Remus Lupin, who then fell to his knees and wept. It was otherworldly for Harry… he felt as though he was watching everything unfold in slow motion, almost like he wasn't even a part of it anymore.
In that moment of distraction, Voldemort managed to disarm Harry and the fighting ceased, all eyes on the pair. Voldemort cackled maniacally, holding Harry's wand in his hand.
"What will you do now?" he taunted, "Will you beg me to spare your life, just as your poor mudblood mother did? Or will you face your death quietly?"
Harry's expression hardened. "Neither…"
"Avada…"
Harry closed his eyes. 'He can't win… he can't! Avada Kedavra!' he thought. He pushed all of his emotions forward into the curse; his love, his fear, his hopes for the future, and especially his anger. He thought of everything Voldemort had done, the countless people who had died because of him… and the countless people who had died simply because they were associated with the Boy-Who-Lived. His parents. Cedric. Sirius. Dumbledore. Ginny. The people who had lost their lives because they thought they were fighting for the right cause or because they hadn't been strong enough to fight him. He thought of the life he'd been forced to live because of this madman… he thought of his uncle…
Harry Potter seemed to explode in a burst of power at the same time that Voldemort fired the killing curse. However, where the light from Voldemort's wand was green, the light that came from Harry was an almost blindingly bright blue. The two powers met and seemed to battle for a moment. Then, Harry screamed and the entire battlefield was immersed in the energy.
After they had blinked the spots from their eyes, what they saw made them erupt in raucous cheers while the few remaining Death Eaters apparated away. Harry Potter stood over a very obviously dead Voldemort. He turned and smiled at them before falling to the ground. The cheers ceased as each and every one of them rushed to Harry's side. Severus Snape kneeled next to the boy, checking pulse and breathing.
"He's alive," he said on a sigh.
"Not for long…" Lucius Malfoy said, raising his wand.
"Avada Kedavra!" Severus exclaimed and Lucius fell dead next to his Lord and Master, "We should get him to an infirmary immediately."
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When Harry awoke, the first thing he realized was that he could see… without his glasses. He dismissed it as some magical anomaly and then he noticed the large amount of people spread about his room… which he then noticed was the sterile white of an infirmary. It wasn't Hogwarts, or else Poppy would already be smothering him, so it had to be St. Mungo's. He sat up, groaning when his back protested violently.
"Harry? Oh God!" Hermione exclaimed, rushing across the room to practically throw herself on him, "We thought you'd never wake up. The Healer here said you had fallen into a coma and she didn't know if the potion she gave you would have any effect… oh thank Merlin…"
"Hermione… ow…" he said pointedly, and she jumped away from him again.
"I'm sorry! I didn't stop to think… I'm just so relieved…" she sobbed. In her small breakdown, she woke the other occupants, who proceeded to crowd around him, asking various questions.
"Be quiet!" he shouted when it became too much, "I don't know what you're talking about! Voldemort's gone? Who beat him?"
Ron gave him a queer look. "You did, mate…"
"Oh… right… of course I did," he said, chuckling nervously, "Sorry... as to how… I don't really know."
"That doesn't matter! It was bloody spectacular!" Fred exclaimed.
"Absolutely brilliant! Well worth the wait," George added.
"Who- who did we lose?" he asked, dreading the answer.
"Surprisingly few…" Remus said, "Charlie Weasley, Viktor Krum, Colin Creevey, Alastor Moody, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Cho Chang, Percy Weasley, Lee Jordan, Samantha Jenkins, Ginny Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Luna Lovegood…" The list continued to include a few centaurs and other aurors who had not been in the Order, but Harry had lain back against his pillows, shutting out all thought. That was too many… too many friends… all dead. Because of him. He slipped into unconsciousness once more, wishing he would never have to wake up again.
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Wow… I'm rather pleased with this… as far as Prologues can please a person, anyway. I hope you haven't given up yet, because I PROMISE it's going to get much better! This was just to sort out my thoughts. I actually started writing this story from about chapter 3 or 4, but I decided to add some more to bring more PLOT into the picture. I love plot… and conflict… you'll come to realize this, I promise. À bientôt.