Note: Dreams are seriously my best friends (sometimes.) This story came to me in my dreams. It's like there are little writing messengers in my head, telling me some new ideas. This was just a cool dream that I had, that will turn into a really funny story. I have a lot of it written, and it is going really good. So enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters that you recognize, or many of the ones you don't. Is my name JK Rowling? I don't think so.

Chapter 1:

The light side was winning, and Voldemort knew it. There were so many casualties on his side, and barely any on the other. Lucious, Belatrix, Avery, and many more were killed. Snape was also killed for betraying. It was him who made the Order turn up, Voldemort knew it. He just wanted to have a little fun, and as always, the Order had to come and ruin it.

He had sent a large portion of his Death Eaters (they were getting wrestless for action) to a muggle department Store. Snape was with them, the stupid fool. Voldemort was right behind them when they entered the store. He had never been into a department store before, and it was a rather neat experience. The shelves were all lined with stupid, useless items such as the brushes muggle mothers put down the chamber pots to clean them. He gave a shudder of disgust. How could they do all of that without magic? The death eaters, without his orders, started aiming curses at the shelves, and watching with glee as they tipped over and on to the floor, spilling their contents everywhere. Chaos ensued as the muggles all started screaming and running for the exits. Voldemort's mouth twisted into an evil grin. "This is it," Voldemort said to himself. "This is the muggle fun we havenT had in a long time."

He directed the death eaters to certain stations throughout the store. Some of them chucked objects at the muggles using their wands, and some of the more favored death eaters got to torture them first-hand. Voldemort, through all the chaos, didn't see Snape disappear.

Snape slipped out the back entrance of the store. Luckily, no one noticed him leave. He dashed into a secluded parking garage, checked to see that no one was looking, and apparated to Grimald Place. He yelled to whomever was in the house that Voldemort was attacking, and told them to summon the Order members as quick as they could. Then he disapparated.

Belatrix was having a good time. She had managed to capture two muggle children, and right before their eyes, murdered their parents. The brother and sister were in hysterics of grief. "Don't cry wittle baby kiddies," she sneered.

The brother, who seemed to be older, got over himself more quickly than the younger sister. "I can't believe you did this. You're a murderer, and we have a right to report you to the police."

He sounded way braver than he felt. Belatrix laughed. Then the brother, no older than nine, started crying again. "Crucio," Belatrix said mercilessly, glee flashing in her eyes. The brother's agonized screams and the sister's increased sobs could be heard throughout the store. All the death eaters stopped action to watch Belatrix cruelly torture the two children. They were all laughing and cheering.

But the cheering didn't last long. About thirty witches and wizards were streaming through the double doors of the store. Lupin, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley, McGonagall, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, (looking as scared as ever,) Fleur, (holding Bill's hand,) Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Luna, to name some. And, near the back was Snape. Voldemort's eyes locked on to Snape's for a brief second. Snape sneered.

"Avada kedavra!" Voldemort hissed. Snape didn't hear him. The green light rushed out of the wand tip, and hit Snape in the chest. He was dead. The final battle had begun. And who would have guessed that it would have happened in a muggle department store?

Curses flew in every direction. People were still screaming, as they tried to make their way safely out of the battle of lights and wooden sticks. Ginny was fighting Electo, one of the death eaters who had witnessed Dumbledore's death. "Stupefy. Impedimenta. Stupefy. Stupefy. Stupefy." Ginny said the five incantations in such quick succession that Electo didn't have time to dodge. They hit her, one after the other, and Ginny staggered a little dazed. Electo fell to the floor, unmoving. Ginny gasped in horror. She had killed someone.

Voldemort wasn't expecting this ambush at all. He didn't have very many followers with him. They were out-numbered at least three to one. He threw an avada at Kingsley. Kingsley ducked, and it hit one of his death eaters. Another dead. Rage filled him, this wasn't supposed to happen. This was just supposed to be a flawless muggle torture, nothing more. He punched his fist into his hand.

'It's not over,' he thought to himself. 'Not by any means.'

"Stup," someone yelled, pointing their wand at Voldemort. He blocked it lazily.

"You'll have to do better than that," he taunted, blocking more spells being thrown at him. He glanced around. With horror, he realized that all his followers were dead. The Order was closing in on him. He sneered around at all of them.

"Dumbledore isn't here to get you all out of this, is he?" he asked, setting anti-apparition wards around the store.

"It's you who should be scared," Harry shouted angrily. Voldemort laughed his high, cold laugh. Ron was positively green by now.

"Me? Look at him over there," he said pointing at Ron. "He looks really scared. He seems to be the only one with brains enough to know what's in for him. I'll award you for being the smartest one in the room, Weasley. I'll make your death nice, painless, and easy. Avada kedavra."

Ron didn't even have time to duck. He fell spread-eagled on the floor. "No!" Harry and Hermione said together. They were the only ones to speak, the rest of the room was in total shock.

Voldemort grinned. "Don't worry. You'll be with him soon enough."

"No we won't," Harry said, with gritted teeth. "He may have left, but he'll have to wait a while for us."

At that, spells flew from many different wands. VOLDEMORT deflected some, and dodged still others. This was going to be a lot harder than he had reckoned. He might have been the most powerful wizard in the wizarding world, but that didn't mean he should fight twenty-five fully trained and very close to being fully trained witches and wizards. He needed more recruits. He turned on his heal and tried to apparate. It didn't work. Horror flashed momentarily in his red eyes.

"You moron," Harry taunted. "Did you set your apparition wards against yourself too?" He was laughing.

Voldemort had, in his haste, forgotten to make the wards accessible for him to get out of. He, along with everyone else, couldn't undo them.

"You are thicker than we thought," Harry teased, still laughing. "Now that your here, I'll let you in on a little secret."

Voldemort knew that he wasn't going to get out of this without taking extremely drastic measures. His brain was working fiercely to think of a plan.

"I know how you've obtained your immortality."

Voldemort was paying attention now. Had Harry really figured it out?

"And all six of them have been destroyed," Harry said, glee and pride evident in his voice.

"No you didn't," Voldemort said, outraged.

"Yes I did," Harry said calmly. "And now it's all over."

The next few things happened so fast, Voldemort wasn't even sure if they had happened at all. Spells were coming toward him. He was so dazed with the information Harry had told him that he let his guard down. About seven or eight of them hit him, some on the chest, some on the arms and legs, and one on the forehead. He felt agony beyond anything he had felt before, and he knew right then and there that Harry had been telling the truth. He moaned a little but not loud enough, not wanting to show that he was hurt. He didn't want to show them that they were doing to him exactly what they wanted to for a very long time. But even as he tried to cling on to life, his vision was blurring. He had to do something.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Belatrix stirring. No one was paying her any attention so she sat up very shakily. Then, his brain wrapped itself around an idea. He grabbed the nearest thing to him off of a shelf. It was a nicnac angel. He sneered at the angel in his hand. Angels were supposed to watch over people, guide them, make them find peace. Voldemort almost laughed. Angels had never watched over him. He had never felt love in his life, and no one had ever cared for him. His vision blacked a little more, and he was beginning to feel weak. He concentrated as hard as he could and said the incantation: "Daniah lanton nevrijgras dieglat oevis!"

The angel glowed with a strange green light, and Voldemort felt pain beyond pain, almost like the feeling of making a horcrux, but not quite. He had taken his soul, up to fourteen years of it out of his body, and put it in the angel. That part of his soul was pure, unmamed, and untarnished. Through the pain, he spotted Belatrix on the floor. He hated doing it. He hated doing it almost more than he hated doing anything else, but he had to depend on her to save his life. He did something that he would have never done if his life didn't depend on it. He raised his arm, and threw the angel at her. As his arm was raising, preparing to toss it, the door opened, sending a shock through the room. Before he could stop himself, Voldemort threw the angel. The girl at the door absent-mindedly caught it, looking puzzled. Voldemort was despaired. He knew his plan, no matter how faulty, didn't work. This was the end.

An electric shock vibrated the room. Voldemort, along with the girl, disappeared.