A/N: Okay…I never really meant to post this, but, I was looking at my profile and I noticed, to my paranoid horror, that I had twelve stories archived. And, well, seeing as I'm paranoid, and I've read these books where twelve is a bad number and thirteen a good one, I had to post this as it is the only current finished story saved on my computer. Forgive me if it seems a little off, or irrelevant, or anything at all, but, well, as I said, never got around to fine-tuning it.
Disclaimer: I don't own it, and if I ever say I do, I'm lying, because I clearly don't…
It was raining. Harry looked to the stars, but saw only grey rain clouds in the dimly lit sky. He took a shaky breath, clutching at his chest. He could feel the blood seep between his fingers and mix with the rain as it travelled down his forearm. His green eyes, brighter than usual, turned to the red ones of his rival.
Voldemort smirked. He finally had Harry where he wanted him.
"So you have finally come to meet your doom, Harry." He sneered, holding his wand ready, watching as the rain fell, unceasing and unrelenting around his victim. "Brave, yes. Very brave. Dear, dear Harry, your death will be all the more heroic for your bravery…and yet still needless."
Harry gulped. The red eyes bore into his own, evil and menacing, glittering with amusement and malice. Closing his eyes, Harry tried to quench his panic. No, he could do this, he had to do this.
"No…" he whispered, the word dying as he said it, washed away by the rain. Steeling his reserve, Harry moved his hair from his eyes and wiped the water from his glasses. He stood defiant before the Dark Lord. "No!"
He would defeat Voldemort. He had to. He was the only one who could. He would do it for his parents. He would do it for his friends. He would do it for Dumbledore, for all those who died in Hogwarts, for all the men and women who died from the Order of the Phoenix, all those who died in the wait for this day, the day everything would end, the day that the Dark Lord would finally die. The day when Harry would finally be strong enough, brave enough, powerful enough to defeat the Dark Lord.
Holding back the tears, Harry remembered his vow to himself, he'd defeat this bastard, Voldemort, for them. He killed them, and Harry would revenge them. He was the only one who could.
He leveled his eyes with Voldemort's once more. The rain continued falling, even as the flash of green light lit up the clearing. Even as the body crumpled to the ground, dead. Even as tears fell down the cheeks of the world's saviour. Even as he fell to his knees beside his comrades. Even as he collapsed, weak from his wound. Even as he stopped breathing and his green eyes, always bright, dimmed as the life left his body.