Not me, for sure.

Lord Voldemort was shaking. Not with fear, that much was obvious to his Death Eaters, but with rage, barely suppressed rage. The lone servant kneeling in front of him, bearer of bad news, was no longer conscious. Severus Snape was on the right of the Dark Lord, smirking behind his mask (as much as Severus Snape could smirk that is). Potter had done it again ! He had single handedly defeated more than twenty servants of the Dark Lord, including this disgusting bitch, Bellatrix Black.

The memory of the event came to Severus, who had witnessed it in the mind of the currently unconscious Death Eater, MacNair, at the feet of Severus' supposed Master.

Some time earlier

MacNair was anxious. His strike-team had been ordered to defend a safe-house, a pretty calm job according to popular beliefs in the Death Eater ranks. But he couldn't shake the feeling something bad was about to happen to him.

So, when the window exploded in a rain of glass, he was a little less startled than his comrades. That calm lasted until a well known figure entered the room by the previously broken window. The nemesis of his Master was here. Harry bloody Potter was here. In the time it took for MacNair to process these thoughts, Harry bloody Potter had killed three of his comrades. The following minutes were a gory mess. Harry bloody Potter showed why Lord Voldemort hadn't killed him yet : he was good. He was excellent. He was beyond excellent, spells coming from his wand at the speed of a machine gun (not that MacNair knew what it was of course), each one of them being wisely used to incapacitate, maim or, more often than not, kill the targeted Death Eater. Bellatrix Black was the only one who survived more than five seconds despite having the more spells coming her way. MacNair survived only because he hide behind a crate and refused to move for the rest of the massacre. What he saw then would stay in his mind for the rest of his life.

Bellatrix and Potter started their duel. And what a duel !

Spells were flying at speeds so great that MacNair couldn't even begin to guess what they were that they were already discarded by their intended target, be it Potter or Bellatrix. Both combatants were masters in their style, but any similarities between the two ended here.

Bellatrix was cackling madly, taunting Potter, dancing on her feet and moving around like the crazy woman she was.

Potter was a silent pillar of tranquillity, not moving except for his wand arm and the fact he always kept Bellatrix in his line of sight. He had not moved from his position since he entered the room.

As the duel progressed, it was becoming obvious that Bellatrix was severely outclassed. She was heavily sweating, her breath was forced, her movements were slower. Potter looked as good as new, as if all of this had begun five minutes ago.

And then it was finished. Bellatrix fell to the ground, a gaping hole in her chest, her face a mask of horror. She was dead the moment the spell had touched her.

MacNair looked around, searching for ways to escape Harry bloody Potter, but it was not to be. The Boy-who-lived turned his attention on him, his green eyes shining with restrained power. MacNair locked eyes with him, making a mistake. His mind was invaded in less than a second and his defenses shattered, his memories given to the invader, which then withdrawn from his mind. The entire exchange had lasted no more than three seconds.

The green-eyed wizard then turned his back to the babbling Death Eater and cleaned the mess around him, just enough to conjure a chair and sit, his pose aristocratic. Addressing MacNair, he said his first words since the beginning of his raid:

"Walden MacNair isn't it ? Give this message to your little Lord: Tom, you're as mortal as the fucker delivering this message. I'm coming for you. Potter sends his regards. Noted ? Nice, now, sorry to cut this date short but I must be off, peoples are waiting for me back home."

MacNair could only nod and thank whichever deity decided he would live another day.

Some time after Potter departed he got on his feet and prepared himself for his coming audience with the Dark Lord. Then he realised that maybe it would have been better to die in the fight. At least it would have been quick. The Dark Lord wouldn't be.

This whole encounter, the death of Bellatrix and more importantly this message, were the reasons for the rage of the Dark Lord. Ever since Dumbledore was killed, Potter had been a thorn in his side.

Two years.

Two fucking years.

Since then, the Order had been brutal, almost as violent as his Death Eaters, and Potter had become progressively better. Now ? He was a monster, on par with Voldemort, even if no one would admit in his presence.

AND THIS MESSAGE !

How had Potter known about his Horcruxes ? How had he known about what they were ? How had that fucker known about where they were ?

He couldn't even blame one of his Death Eater for this failure since they didn't know about this.

That was it. He would duel Potter and show the world who was the best. He would become the ruler of wizarding and muggle Britain and would find new ways to become immortal again.

But first, he had to kill Potter. And he would have to do it in a public place, he would have to kill him in front of all their supporters if he wanted to eliminate any rebellious spirit they might have left after his death. He would show them why Lord Voldemort was feared and known as the most powerful Dark Lord in centuries.

Dismissing his minions, he began to plan Potter's downfall.

Five days later

Voldemort apparated straight in the middle of Diagon Alley. Immediately, the crowd began to flee but he cast a Sonorus on himself:

"HARRY POTTER ! WHEREVER YOU ARE, KNOW THAT LORD VOLDEMORT WISHES TO SHOW THE WORLD WHO IS THE BEST BETWEEN THE TWO OF US. I WILL WAIT FOR YOU IN THREE DAYS IN HOGSMEADE."

He then proceeded to kill a few random people just because they were not properly shaking in fear like all the other sheeps.

The following three days, the wizarding world was in turmoil. The Daily Prophet printed several stories about both Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort, comparing the strengths and weaknesses of the two, asking analysts and experts in dueling for their opinion, as well as people in the street.

All in all, everyone was as the same time looking forward to this duel and afraid of its possible results. The Ministry was scrambling to develop a plan to round up both fighters after the fight, following the idea that the winner would obsviously be too powerful to be allowed to live.

Back at 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry Potter was preparing himself for this duel. And he was being assaulted by his concerned girlfriend, Fleur Delacour, who kept trying to discourage him of going.

Finally, he snapped and called an Order Meeting.

After enough member had arrived, he began to talk:

"Ok everyone, you have probably guessed what this meeting is about. Before you start asking questions and pestering me about nothing, I'll say two things: yes, I'll go and confront Voldemort, and yes, anyone who is willing to watch can come too."

Almost as one, all the people present started to talk, trying to make themselves heard above the voices of the others. The noise level quickly became unbearable and soon enough the screeching voice of Walburga Black's portrait could be heard in the background.

"SILENCE PLEASE !" shouted Harry, his voice amplified by his latent power. Almost instantly, the room got its calm back. He looked at every members, several of them fidgeting under his hard gaze.

"Ok, we'll start from my left and go on, and I don't want anyone interrupting else you lose your chance to speak." said Harry, his voice neutral.

The rest of the meeting was pretty quiet after that and Harry's glare kept the most agitated members quiet. Finally, following several hours of discussion and planning, all of them got on their feet to leave and departed one by one.

This night, Harry Potter collapsed in his bed and didn't even acknowledge Fleur coming to sleep with him for he was already in a deep slumber by the time she entered the room, mere minutes after him.

The day a new legend was born

"This is it" Harry thought grimly, watching the place where he and his nemesis would duel to decide what was probably the fate of a world.

"Finally I'll show them why they should fear me" thought the Dark Lord. "Once this is done, they'll cower at my feet like the insects they are. If they don't faint before that of course."

Both opponents were in the middle of the ancestral village. They stared at the other for what seemed like an eternity, not believing it would be over by the time their duel was finished, one way or another. Hundreds of people were here, looking from afar. Death Eaters and Order members had come to an unspoken truth, for any fighting done today would be pointless, save for one duel. Why would you risk your live when your actions won't even tip the balance ? You wouldn't. And so, they watched.

Voldemort attacked first, intent on gaining the upper hand quickly. Potter didn't even move when the Killing Curse missed him, passing a few millimeters on the left of his head.

And that was the beginning of a duel that would go down in the legend, being used to teach future duel masters, showing them what you could do when you were a true master of the art, replacing in this regard the duel of Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald.

For any of the common observers, the duel was a just a show of lights, sounds and flying objects interrupting other lights in their course. For the Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix, it was the most advanced display of Battle Magic they had ever seen and the duel that would determine their fate. For Potter and Voldemort, it was the final battle, the one to finish it all.

For the truly talented, it was the most beautiful and most deadly duel they had (and likely would) ever seen. Every movement was both useful and graceful, every spell had the power to end it, every breath was taken as new beginning for a renewed assault. It was the equivalent of a masterpiece for an artist, a one-in-a-millenium breakthrough for a scientist, an unbeatable record for an athlete ...

It was perfect, awe-inspiring and so much more than what mere words could describe. People had tears in their eyes as they watched a young man and an old one duel as if all their lives had been a path to this moment.

Voldemort was seething. How ? How did he become so powerful ? Voldemort was an arrogant bastard, that was for sure, but his arrogance came partially from the power he wielded: he was one of the most powerful wizards to have ever walked on Earth. So, when Potter once again blocked his Fiendfyre, he was forced to acknowledge his opponent as a player who was his the same league as him.

Potter was calm. His Occlumency shields were so dense that no emotions could form in his mind. He was only aware of his opponent, not even of his own body. Except for his eyes and his wand arm, he had not moved a bit since the beginning of the duel. For the matter, neither had Voldemort. Where Bellatrix had been unable to stay in the same place for more than a second, Voldemort was a rock so solidly rooted in the ground that you would have to move the ground itself to move it. And Potter was doing just that. Voldemort may or may not know it, but as the duel progressed Potter was removing rocks around his nemesis and mollifying the soil. Oh. Shit. Plan foiled again he tought when Voldemort started to fly unaided. Bah, he was having fun as it was, so why not continue ?

This phase of the duel lasted several minutes. By then, normal wizards would have emptied their core and lost, but both combatants far outclassed normal wizards and they showed no sign of tiring. And people had noticed.

Ron Weasley was gobsmacked. And here I thought I could take Harry alone and win in an all-out duel. What a fool I was.

Hermione Granger was thinking. Where and when did Harry become so powerful ? Certainly not with us. When did he become so good at everything ? I'll have to ask him about that.

Severus Snape was anxious: Whoever win, I'm dead. I should flee right now. But I can't. This is too good to flee. The Potter brat truly is the son of Lily.

MacNair was thinking. Why didn't the Dark Lord win earlier ? If he is as powerful as he claims, he should have won by now. Or is Potter a match for him ? That thought was truly terrifying for the fanatic Death Eater who knew is death sentence would be signed the instant the Dark Lord was dead.

And then, the second phase of the duel began. Spells started to fly faster, overpowered to their extreme. Had any of the observer tried to make any spell as powerful as they were now, he would have killed himself from magical exhaustion after the first, provided he had succeeded in the first place. Again, the two titans marched forward, free of the restrictions imposed to ordinary wizards and witches. The power put in the the weakest spell was enough to distort reality around it as it traveled and the strongest ones were visibly rocking the world around them.

Voldemort was now hilare. It had been such a long time since he had a worthy opponent ! And from the smile on Potter's face, he was thinking the same. Suddenly, the duel was not a question of motives, of political views or vengeance, it had become a competition between masters, and it was all the more violent because of that.

Potter was smiling. Smiling ! No one could believe it. Voldemort cackling madly was something everyone knew was bound to happen, but Potter smiling ? No, no one was prepared. But here it was, that smile on Potter's face was unmissable and growing. His eyes, shining with power, were also glinting with mirth and true enjoyment.

Ron was the first to voice his disbelief:

"Why the fuck is he smiling ?!"

"He is enjoying it."

"But ... why ? How ?" came the response from Hermione.

"I trust he finally met his match."

"His match ?"

Yes. If they weren't enemies, I think the Potter brat and Voldy would have been buddies only for the fact that no one here is of any consequence to them in a fight. Hell, they probably could outclass us while fighting against each other. They're that good."

The fact that it was Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody who said that convinced many people it was the truth, despite how utterly incredible it sounded.

And then it was over. But not really. Potter and the Dark Lord had just stopped. They were looking directly at each other, eyes locked in an invisible contest. And the impossible happened.

They walked toward each other and gripped the other forearm. Tendrils of magic appaered around them and every person present sensed a historic moment was just moments away.

Releasing his arm, I turned around, looking at the stunned crowd. I smirked. I cast the sonorus charm on me and opened my mouth to announce the news:

Witches ! Wizards ! My new associate and myself have arrived to a compromise ! In exchange for the peace and safety of the Wizarding World, we will be pardoned of all crimes we have perpetred or will commit. Meet those conditions and the Unbreakable Vow we just took will forbid us to attack any you in any way that Old Magick deems too harsh for your crimes against us or the whole Wizarding world. As we cannot kill each other, the Vow ensures we cannot in any way become any sort of leader for any group, official or not, for as long as we both live.

Just then all the Death Eaters felt their mark vanish from their arm. The orator continued unimpeded.

Fleur gasped. She had just realized what had been done. Harry and Voldemort were now immortal because of the prophecy. Then she started to cry. Tears of joy, tears of grief.

Harry looked at Fleur and smiled a sad smile. It was for the best but Merlin did it hurt ! He looked at Voldemort and they vanished, never to be seen again.

Over the following decades, many search parties reported sightings of the two immortal Lords but the only signs of their continued existence were criminals turning up chained and stunned at random Ministries around the world and the magical backslashes from what was supposed to be their duels against each other.

Centuries later

I looked at my partner. Who could have predicted this outcome ? Not me, for sure. The prophecy said "Neither can live while the other survives." So they had decided to live. If both lives, surely it would count, right ? At least that's what we deducted. During our fight, we found that "the power he knows not" was the power of speech, of rhetoric, of logic. I was convinced by the arguments that Potters mind crafted and gave it a try. It worked. And here we were, centuries later and growing more powerful with each passing year. I dared think that if I tried I could conjure a perfect replica of Earth, down to the smallest particle.

Who would have thought the answer was so ... bland ? Not me, for sure.