Henceforth Banished
Harry Potter looked around quietly. The sixteen year-old, whom was currently in the clutches of Voldemort, was looking for an escape path. Seeing there was no way out, he narrowed his eyes. He glared at Voldemort, seething in his anger. He glanced at the mangled bodies below him. Seamus Finnigan, and Luna Lovegood looked at him with blank stares. They're chests, usually moving in a steady pattern, were quiet, and rested. The smell of death reeked around the room, making Harry sweat even more. The recent green light had already faded, but the thought would linger forever. Many people had been tortured by this foul creature sitting in front of Harry, physically and mentally. This was the day that all that would end. Harry would kill him, or die trying. Just as soon as he got free of his bonds. Grasping for his wand, that was stealthily hidden in his pocket; he decided to sever the ropes. He muttered the spell, grinning, almost in an evil way, as he watched Voldemort jump out of his seat. He hadn't thought of the severing charm, and in a few seconds he was free.
Harry stood at the same height of Voldemort, which was just as well, for they both had the same advantage. This street was unfamiliar to both, so neither knew what was lurking where. Harry pointed his wand threateningly at Voldemort, as he was at him. They circled around each other, as swordfighters would. Then, a crack of a twig caught Voldemort off guard, and the fatal curse was yelled.
"Avada Kedavara!" Harry screamed with all the hate held up in his body. He thought back to his parents, to Hagrid, to Cedric, and Sirius. He thought of Seamus and Luna, and all the hate for the foul man across from him splurged into the spell, making it more and more powerful. The man slowly turned around, his eyes wide, as the insanely bright green light blinded him, and ended his life.
Period.
There was a huge explosion, and Harry was blown off his feet. He slammed into a nearby tree, and slid down to the grass. He was weak, but he stood up, and limped over to where Voldemort last stood. There was a green skull, glowing as brightly as the spell, implanted in the ground. Harry gingerly bent down and picked up a stick. He threw in on the ground, and it immediately caught fire. Harry sat down. Another twig cracked, and out of the trees came Hermione Granger. She was covered in must, but somehow cleaner, for there was no blood. She ran over to him, to comfort him, but mostly, to get him home.
"Oh, Harry," she cried, looking over him sadly, "Harry, you're so brave."
Harry smiled weakly. "Who thought Voldemort could be killed so easily. Thanks, for that twig, Hermione,"
"It wasn't me," Hermione said, a little innocent smile crawling onto her lips. "IT was-,"
"Me," a male voice spoke. Harry looked up, and saw the last person he expected.
"Malfoy?" he asked, and Draco nodded. He walked over, but his usual swagger was missing. He offered his hand to Harry, and he took it. Draco lifted him to the ground, and smiled an odd sort of smile.
"Don't think this means we're friends, Potter. We just have something in common. We both hate- er hated the Dark Lord." Harry smiled, leaning on Hermione for support. He started to walk towards the road, to try and call the Knight Bus, when he remembered something.
"Ron. Ron was here! Where is he?" Harry looked around wildly, and then settled his eyes accusingly on Hermione, who was looking at Malfoy with a grim expression.
"What? What is it? What happened to Ron?" Harry yelled.
"Harry, he was captured by Death Eaters…" Hermione whispered.
Harry paled noticeably.
"He would have gotten all of us, if Draco hadn't disarmed him, making him forced to disapparate." Malfoy looked away, but Harry still glared at him.
"I did try to save him, Potter, I really did."
Harry rolled his eyes in an immature way, and spoke to Hermione "Let's just go, why don't we?"
Hermione nodded sadly, and led him to the road. There she stuck out her wand arm, and the purple bus flew into view. Stan, the greeter, or whatever you want to call him, opened the door, and was about to his regular opening speech, when he saw Harry leaning on Hermione, and Draco with broken wand pieces.
"What 'appened 'here?" Stan asked. Harry glared at him.
"There was a fight," he said.
"Be'ween 'o?" he asked
Harry resisted the urge to not tell him. "Between me and Voldemort," he answered, gritting his teeth.
"'O won?" he asked, as if to question the obvious.
Harry glowered, his face almost red. "Who's living?" and Hermione lifted him onto the bus.
Stan beamed brightly, and screamed for the world to hear.
"The Dark Lord's dead!" Ernie looked up, his eyes wide.
"Dead, you say?" he asked.
Stan nodded vigorously, and Ernie jumped up. This was something he didn't do much.
"He's dead! He's dead!" He shouted. "The Dark Lord is gone!"
The passengers of the car cheered, jumping on the beds and squirting their customized toothpaste all over. Harry motioned to Hermione, and she let him down. Then, with tears in her eyes, she walked past the celebrant riders, to the front. She took out her wand, pointed it toward the serene bodies on the ground, and whispered a spell.
"Mobilicourpus," she choked out. The bodies floated toward her, and she placed them atop the van. She secured them with a spell. Ernie ecstatically drove away, leaving the green glowing skull behind in the distance.
The purple bus pulled to a stop in front of Hogwarts. Harry, whose breath was getting short, was practically carried out by Hermione, and she sprinted to the door. She banged on it frenetically, and Dumbledore answered. When he saw Hermione holding Harry, and Draco levitating some bodies, he understood. He looked into Harry's eyes, and with the strength he had left, nodded. Dumbledore smiled a bit, and then called for Madam Pomfrey. She came and nearly fainted at what she saw. She conjured a stretcher, and placed Harry on it. Muttering to herself, she brought him to the Hospital Wing. Dumbledore looked around the picture.
"Sir," Hermione spoke, "there's something else as well." Dumbledore held his finger up.
"Miss Granger, where is Mr. Weasley? Didn't he go with you?"
"That's just it, Professor, he…well he was captured by Death Eaters…" Dumbledore looked at her.
"Oh dear…"
"Mr. Harry Potter, on this day, September the sixteenth, of the year 1996, I, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, award you with this Order of Merlin, First Class, for the defeat of Voldemort." The crowd cheered, as Harry wheeled his wheelchair forward. Madam Pomfrey had done the best she could, but his left leg had lost every ounce of strength it had. She promised him that it would eventually come back, she just did not know when.
The Minister placed the award in Harry's hands, and a roar only heard at Quidditch games, was heard. When the ceremony was over, Dumbledore came to Harry.
"I think it would be best, Harry, if you regained your strength at you aunt and uncle's house. Nymphadora Tonks will be with you, in case of any problems. I will temporarily be leaving the school, leaving it very vulnerable to any angry Death Eaters." Harry nodded understandably.
Harry lied in his bed. The Dursleys were in an oddly jolly mood, ever since he had told them of the death of Voldemort. Uncle Vernon was still a little upset that Harry hadn't died too, but that didn't dampen his spirits.
"Wow, who ever thought the Dursleys could be so happy?" Tonks said, coming in. Harry had to agree. He sat up and turned toward her. His leg didn't move, and he was forced to lift it and turn it.
"I'll tell you one thing, I won't be sad when this leg works again." Harry declared. Tonks laughed.
"Well, I need to go report to Dumbledore, be back in a bit!" Tonks was happy too. Harry smiled, and she shut the door. Harry lied back on his bed and picked up the Daily Prophet. The Wizarding world was still celebrating, and reprinting was very necessary. Harry still felt bad about all the people that had died in his reign. He was about to turn the page, when he heard a sudden boom out on the street. He grabbed his crutches, (the wheelchair had made him feel weird) and hobbled outside. At the end of the street was a man dressed in black. Harry pulled out his wand, but the other man shot one first. Then he apparated. Harry looked around. The people had seen the spell. That man had revealed the world.
And had framed it on him.