This is it... the final battle. This could be the saving or slaying of Wizarding Britain.
Voldemort has killed many, but we will stand strong until we die; there is nothing to lose and everything to gain.
Dumbledore said 'The Power he Knows not' is my ability to love... but what if it isn't?
What then? If I die, they will all lose hope...
But if it doesn't end now, they will lose hope anyway...
I never told anyone, but, I'm dying...
I face Voldemort now. I have no regrets. The prophesy said, 'Either must die at the hand of the Other, for neither shall live while the Other survives.' I have all but paralyzed him now... I just have to kill him.
But it feels wrong.
He killed my parents; why does it feel wrong to kill him?
Then I see it. His wand. It's not his Yew and Phoenix Feather wand; it's Dumbledore's. And Dumbledore used the Elder wand. But Voldemort wasn't the one to defeat Dumbledore.
That means it belongs to someone else. Someone who could give the Wizarding World hope and keep Wizards from dying out.
"What are you waiting for, Potter? Are you so weak you cannot attack a static target?" Voldemort yelled at me from across the field. The fighting had stopped when I had frozen him. But now what do I do?
I open my mouth to respond but what comes out, I never meant to say.
"You will die." My eyes widen at what I said, but my mouth keeps talking, I have no control of what I say or do. "You will die, Tom Riddle, Halfblood descendent of Salazar Slytherin's bastard Squib sister."
People gasp at that, Voldemort's eyes grow wide, and he pales. The Death Eaters around him turn angry eyes at him and their wands follow. No one knew any of the Founders had siblings. How did Harry Potter know?
"And I will die as well."
There are more gasps. I am their, quote-on-quote, saviour; I couldn't die... But I am, and I will.
"We will both die, or the world is forfeit. But Magic has decreed that her next Heir is to be Deaths Heir."
I pull my father's invisibility cloak and the resurrection stone from my pocket. "Do you know what these are?" I ask Voldemort. He refuses to answer as he glares at me.
"These are Death's Invisibility Cloak and the Resurrection Stone. Two of the three Deathly Hollows. The one to own all three is to be Death's Heir. I have two, and you hold the third: the Elder Wand. It belonged to Dumbledore, before, if I am correct. But you weren't the one to defeat him, were you?"
Everyone is listening, no one is moving.
"Elder Wand, Hear me Out!" I all but scream. "He who holds thyne self aren't not your Master. He, who has failed to defeat yon preceding Master. He shan't be worthy of you 'til he masters such Power. Show us all who breathe, to whom among us mortals do you belong?"
The wand glows gold and struggles to free itself from the tight grasp of Voldemort who refused to let go of the only power he had that could defeat all these pathetic Mudbloods and Halfbreeds and Blood-traitors. Who cares if the Purebloods have turned their wands on him? They all are Blood-traitors as well!
But the wand is stronger, and pulls itself free and zooms around the battlefield, searching out its Master. Finally, it found its Master; hovering before its Master's face, the Elder Wand shone its golden glow upon the pale, shocked face of Draco Malfoy who hesitantly takes the wand in hand.
Harry walked up to the blond among the stares and furious looks from both sides, and threw the invisibility cloak over his shoulders and pressed the stone to the middle of Draco's chest where it merged with the cloak and formed a type of clasp and began to declare in a loud, clear voice that carried over the field:
"By the power gifted to me by my ancestor Pervelle;
By the power gifted to me by my ancestor Flamel;
By the power gifted to me by my ancestor Griffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin;
By the power gifted to me by my ancestor Potter;
By the power gifted to me by Magic and Death and Fate,
I name you, Draconis Lucious Abraxis Malfoy, with the duty of providing heirs for seven Most Ancient and Noble Houses;
with the duty of restoring Magic;
with the duty of bringing peace to Magic and keep us all from dying...
Do you accept these duties?
Answer wisely, for you are key,
You could bring Magic out of the dark ages it has fallen into,
or destroy the world...
Choose, for once I and He are collected by Death, the choice will be made for you."
The dumbstruck Malfoy could do nothing but nod once.
Then, Harry James Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived, and Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort, disappeared with naught but a flash of flame.