Lemon Drop
"Excellent Harry," Dumbledore said, closing the final manuscript. "Quite excellent. This autobiographical series spanning the years of Voldemort's rise and fall through your eyes will sell millions of copies. You've selected a wonderful ghost writer with Ms. Rowling, just make sure she does the corrections I marked up and everything should be well in order."
"Thank you, Albus," Harry muttered, collecting the stack of parchment rolls.
"I still cannot get over the Dumblefore on page 428 in the third book," the old wizard said merrily.
"Yes, hilarious. I really must be going." Harry made his way to the door before turning around. "Oh, and Professor?"
"Yes?" inquired Dumbledore from behind his spectacles.
"You were quite wonderful in giving me my new persona."
"Beg your pardon, Harry?"
"You see, Albus," Harry said, casually aiming his wand at the doddering old fool before him. "I have enough material from Potter's corpse to last me for quite some time for Polyjuice potions while I gather all my followers again. With your signature of approval on these manuscripts on the recounting of the events, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead forever. No one will ever be the wiser to the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice's death. Imagine their shock, when in a year on the eve of Voldemort's demise it is Harry Potter who raises an army even greater than the Dark Lord's to squash the wizarding world? No one will be the wiser, save one."
"Which is me?" Albus asked quietly, popping a lemon drop into his mouth, his heart breaking.
"Yes," Voldemort hissed between Harry's lips. "Except, you know, you'll be dead."
"Clever," the headmaster sighed, scratching his beard before offering the tin of candies to the man wearing the lightning bolt shaped scar.
Eyeing them suspiciously, Voldemort gingerly picked one up and sniffed it before popping it delicately into his mouth. "You know, I never understood why you always attempted to give these out to everyone."
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said, nodding. "That would be because I placed them in a potion which I brewed and invented myself. You see Tom, this is why you never can win, you are always forgetting something or underestimating others. The potion is designed to poison those who'd want to harm me; killing them, you see. And, as you are intending to kill me…" he held out his arms in supplication. "Well, there you are."
Tom shrieked, his body boiling from the inside out before collapsing in one melted heap on the ground. Professor Dumbledore watched as the appearance of Harry Potter left the dark lord's snake-like visage, shaking his head sorrowfully.
"Alas, you didn't kill me, Riddle," Albus said, his voice changing octaves even as he grew taller. "That night you killed Albus. Self-sacrificing, fool-hearted, wonderful Albus. The Polyjuice with my hair was injected into his veins, making him appear to be me forever. It was administered and doctored by none other than Professor Snape."
Harry stared down woefully before muttering the charm to eradicate the mess on the floor. "His last words to me were explaining those ruddy lemon drops before he Apparated to your side. Merciful Merlin, you are finally dead and I can go on with my life with my friends, family, beloved... grieving, loving, remembering."
The End.