Chapter One: The Boy Who Died
(A/N) Hi guys! Just a quick word before we begin. This story occurs after Voldemort kills Harry in the Forbidden Forest, only Harry doesn't come back to life. Other than that, the story will follow the world of Harry Potter as canonically as I can manage, barring one thing, which is that Fred was only wounded, not killed, during the Battle of Hogwarts. I don't own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters or places from the series, but do own any characters I create for use in this story. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! :)
Lord Voldemort
Hagrid placed the body at Voldemort's feet, and stood up slowly, tears flooding down from his oversized face.
A silence settled over those watching from the Entrance Hall, the finality of what they were witnessing crushing what spirits they had left. Professor McGonagall walked down the steps, her face white with shock, murmuring "No…" over and over. She reached the body and knelt down, resting her hand against the face of the boy that they had all placed their faith in, and had risked everything for. She broke the silence with her tears, no longer able to keep her sense of decorum against what she knew to be the end of all their struggles, all their hopes, all their dreams of a future without Voldemort's dark presence tainting the very essence of their lives.
He was dead.
The voice, amplified so it could be heard over the voices of the now-wailing crowd, thundered through the rubble of what had once been one of the finest schools of witchcraft and wizardry in the world.
"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as well every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before him, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."
A long silence greeted his words, broken only by the tears of those weeping. Some began to throw down their wands, which the Death Eaters cheered at, and were quickly followed by others, who had lost their fighting spirit upon seeing Harry's lifeless corpse.
However, a figure in the crowd drew his wand, yelling out the beginning to a curse before being disarmed by Voldemort in a flash of light. The figure was thrown to the ground, and Voldemort cocked his head, amused by this child, this boy.
"And who is this? Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"
No one in the crowd spoke up. The boy himself remained mute, staring into Voldemort's with a look of such intense hatred that he almost laughed despite himself, amused at the boy's efforts.
He felt Bellatrix stir beside him as she coughed quietly and said "It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord. The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble. The son of the Aurors, remember?"
Understanding dawned and he nodded. "Ah, yes, I remember. But you are pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?"
He must not be harmed. Enough magical blood had been spilt today. No doubt there are still enough of those with mud for blood to satisfy the appetites of even the most… volatile of my followers. Thought Voldemort, glancing at Fenrir Greyback, who was practically salivating over the crowd.
The boy – Longbottom – stood up slowly, defiance still in his eyes. "So what if I am?" he demanded, looking straight into the eyes of the greatest Dark Lord in history.
It was almost… moving. Almost.
Voldemort smiled. "You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom." He extended his hand, offering it to this boy, giving him one last chance to save his life.
The boy only glared back at him. "I'll join you when hell freezes over. Dumbledore's Army!"
Some of the crowd cheered with him, and Voldemort heard a wand being drawn to his left. He turned and looked into the eyes of Minerva McGonagall, her eyes red from tears, stripped of her confident demeanour, with rage in her eyes.
"You bastard." she muttered, pointing her wand at his chest. "Dumbledore should have killed you the second he laid eyes on you."
This was only received with laughter from Voldemort, as he lazily raised his wand. "Minerva, isn't it? Give in, my dear. Dumbledore is dead, Harry Potter is dead. Do you really wish to join them?"
"It won't be me that joins them, you monster!" she snarled as her first curse was cast, and was casually deflected by Voldemort. The battle took only a few moments, curses streaming from both parties faster than the eye could follow, but it ended with McGonagall on her knees, her wand broken, staring defiantly at him, her eyes showing no fear, only sadness and anger.
He stared down at her for a moment before turning to the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen," he muttered, his face utterly serious, his tone changing from mocking to dark, hinting at the rage within him. "The price of defiance."
A green light flashed from the end of his wand and struck McGonagall in the chest, knocking her to the ground. He glanced over at Bellatrix, her eyes shining with glee and anticipation, and gave her the reward she deserved. "The school is yours, my… faithful Bellatrix. Take the boy," motioning to the now weeping Neville Longbottom, kneeling beside McGonagall's lifeless body. "Make him come to… respect our way of life. Those of magical blood will be spared!" He intoned, his voice once again rising above the muttering and wailing of the crowd. "As for the rest…"
His eyes searched the crowd, noticing the girl who had been friends with Harry Potter, her hands clasped in those of a young red-haired boy, both their faces streaming with tears. Voldemort smiled smugly. "Do with them as you will."
The triumphant yells of the Death Eaters rang out as they stormed into the castle, casting spells to disarm and hold those whom they had been fighting, and the cries and yells of protest filled the castle, but Voldemort paid little heed to it, allowing Bellatrix to lead the assault, instead summoning Lucius Malfoy to him.
Lucius walked up slowly, his head bent reverentially, wincing with every scream that rang out from inside the castle. "Master." He murmured, kneeling at Voldemort's feet, "What is it that you want of me?"
"Lucius, Lucius, Lucius… What shall I do with you."
Malfoy glanced up, his eyebrows knotted in confusion. "My Lord."
"Don't pretend that you have been… pleased with how the world has changed since my return. I know how much you… chafe at the leash I have placed on you…" He turned and stared at the castle. "But look at us now, my greatest enemy, dead by my hand, the country fallen to my followers, the world itself in my hands." He was quiet for a moment before murmuring. "When this is over, I plan to rebuild this school. But we shall have no more Houses… no more… Sorting. No… the Slytherin house should be good enough for all who enter this school. The house of my ancestor… Perhaps one day you might reside here, my… old friend."
Malfoy stood up slowly and bowed, his face contorted with both terror and extreme greed. "My Lord is too generous, but nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see his will carried out."
Voldemort nodded curtly. "Very well. First, however, you must win back my favour."
"Anything."
"I will give you command of a group of Death Eaters, to travel to Ireland and discover the cause behind our agents… silence over the last few months. Britain may be mine, both the Ministry and Hogwarts may have fallen before me, but my appetites have not yet nearly been satisfied. The world shall be mine, and wizards shall not have to hide from the Muggle world any longer, but rather them from us!"
Malfoy bowed again, his composure somewhat regained. "As you will it, it shall be done."
Voldemort nodded, and walked over to the body of the one person that had triumphed against him, who had defeated him at every turn up until that day. He waved his wand and the body levitated several feet in the air, turning to face him.
"Now Mr Potter. That only leaves you…"
He waved his wand again and the ground rose up from beneath the corpse, which spun slowly until it lied horizontally on a platform of raised earth. Voldemort waved his wand for the third time and the ground slowly rose to cover the body, before turning crystal, allowing everyone present to see the body once more.
Voldemort strode up to the tomb and, using his wand, carved The Boy Who Died onto the crystal surface, and then stood back, admiring his own work.
"Yesss…" he muttered. "This will do." He raised his voice once more and turned to the remaining Death Eaters who had not joined in the taking of Hogwarts. "Here, for evermore, will lie the body of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Died, to show the price of rebellion, of defiance, of all who dare oppose me."
The Death Eater's cheered and applauded his words, and continued to do so as others poured out of Hogwarts, captives in tow. Bellatrix strode up and bowed. "My Lord, we have searched every part of the castle, all have been assembled for your inspection."
Voldemort smiled. "You outdo yourself once again, Bellatrix. Have they been…sorted?"
"Those of pure blood are to the front, half-bloods after and… scum make up the last line."
Voldemort smiled and strode over to them, walking up and down the lines, inspecting each person in turn. He stopped when he came to two red-haired adults, crouching over an injured young man who could only be there son. "Greyback!" he called out. "These are yours." He continued his inspection, despite the screams of the rest of their children, and, chuckling to himself, walked back to Bellatrix.
"Take their children, along with… Longbottom and the rest of Potter's friends. Except for him…" he said, raising his hand and pointing towards a boy standing in the half-bloods section. "What is your name, my child?"
The boy paled and stuttered. "S..S..Seamus Finnigan."
The Dark Lord smiled and turned to Lucius. "Take him with you, find out what he knows, go into Ireland with an…understanding of the task before you. I know it's something you tend to forget."
He then turned back to Bellatrix and motioned for his Inner Circle to come forward, smiling as Bellatrix and Lucius were joined by the Carrows, Rookwood, Dolohov, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, Jugson, Mulciber, Nott, Rowle, Macnair and Yaxley.
"I stand before you having achieved what we so long strived for: Victory! But now is not a time to rest on our laurels, but to continue our quest. We will be going to war, Britain may be ours, but the world is a large place. We have much more work to do." The Death Eaters cheered and proclaimed their support.
Voldemort then turned to his Inner Circle. "Bellatrix is to be given first choice of those assembled here. After that… well… organise it amongst yourselves, I have little interest. Those of pure-blood are to live, preferably half-bloods as well. As I said before, I care not about the… scum."
Bellatrix suddenly spoke up. "My Lord, I would have my niece, Nymphadora, along with the others you have selected."
Voldemort nodded. "Then you shall have them." He glanced over at the woman in question, her hand gripping that of a tired looking man. "And the man next to her? The werewolf."
The other Death Eaters smiled and chuckled, knowing full well Bellatrix's shame that her niece had married a werewolf. Bellatrix merely frowned. "He is of no consequence. Let Greyback have him. Give him to his own kind."
"Then let it be done. These events begin to irk me. Organise the rest amongst yourselves; do not disturb me until it is done. Come Nagini." He said, motioning to the huge snake that had been quietly following him throughout the "battle".
He walked through the giant doors leading into the Entrance Hall, up the flight of stairs and continued up to the third floor, before striding up to a gargoyle, blasting it off its pillar and ascending up a spiral staircase, before finally reaching the room he had been looking for. He strode into the Headmaster's office in silence, as the portraits of every Headmaster passed looked on.
He strode onwards, aware of their gazes, and sat down in the Headmaster's chair, as Nagini coiled herself around what had once been the stand used by Dumbledore's Phoenix, Fawkes. He lay back into the chair, and, for the first time in over forty years, Voldemort smiled a true smile.
I have won.