N/A: The end of book 7th. This fanfic has been planned and written before the publication of Deathly Hallows. (You will see it doesn't fit much.) Since I'm 100 pages from finishing the book, and because I just realized I hadn't published this one-shot anywhere, I wanted to put it up here to have some sort of proof that I wrote this before I even read the end of HBP. Not that I would matter much to you, anyways.
No spoilers, but if you want to be on the safe side, don't read.
The End of Harry Potter.
Harry crawled backwards, shielding for the voices. The image of a blood-shred Draco Malfoy flashed in his eyelids to the sight of an equally pale dead-looking Malfoy.
In the end, it didn't matter he had destroyed all horcruxes, with one last look at the flashes of the pale dead face shadowed by the dark hood, Harry somehow knew it was over. It all resonated in a chaotic chorus in his head.
"You must know what these are, Professor of Defense Against Dark Arts Potter," said Voldemort, leaning back behind the Great Hall staff table, looking lazily ahead. "A chimera: the perfect equilibrium between two beings of similar structure made into one thing. Of course, Draco here is a surprise, unstable. We didn't think he'd survive.
"The procedure was slow and painful, and slow. We thought he'd give up…" The voices were louder than ever. Never before had it felt this difficult to concentrate on one single happy thought. Harry stumbled backwards after the first attempt at standing, with enough clearance of mind to produce a stag patronus.
The spectrum charged at Malfoy, and passed right through him without as much as momentarily distract him. Harry tried again; this one barely ghosted over his skin, much less stopped this… this Malfoy gliding. The next were hardly puffs of white smoke. He heard himself tired against his other voice calling "Sectusempra!"
"It was Draco again who told us about the dementors," Voldemort continued. "Harry Potter's weakness, said he. I decided to give his idea a chance."
Draco had lowered his hood and stared at Harry with dead eyes, something not human anymore. His fingers curled at either side of Harry's head…. His mouth started to open… Harry was handled like a puppet…but, somewhere through that Harry could swear Draco had made a halt.
Something hit his side, Harry stared down a battled old hat and Voldemort rose from his seat shouting "TRAITOR!"
Draco was lunging again for Harry's face. A flash of light passed by his ear praying them apart -- Harry seized the sorting hat. He withdrew the Gryffindor sword and plunged it with no thoughts on Draco's side.
Draco's body fell to the floor, bleeding an oily black substance. He was still staring back at Harry, motionless, shaking, breathing though convulsions but the voices had stopped.
Harry's attention, almost compulsorily, switched to Snape, to Neville jumping in front of somebody and suffering a big gashing wound across the chest and Ginny screaming. The shielding charm that held everybody in the other side broke – the sphere which withheld the power of the magical barrier was smashed in pieces by Ron and Hermione, but Voldemort's spell was already heading their direction…
Between Ron and the spell, Snape's body doubled over, lifeless.
"No!" Voldemort was turning to Harry who was still with shock and had barely turned around for the wand pointed at him. Then, a silver hand from his right seized Voldmort's own, deflecting the spell. Wormtail fell to the floor next with a sickening thud.
"Somebody else wants to betray me?!" Voldemort roared enraged. Mad with fury, he pointed his wand to his side and killed the next Death Eater, and then pointed it at a third one with a look of fright…
A horde of people now swarmed the Great Hall through in different directions: Death Eaters fled, cornered and scattered. The Weasley Twins had de-barricaded the door off the long tables which were now thrust Voldemort's direction, as Voldemort killed more of his own supporters. Lord Voldemort stood alone at the Great Table; he raised his dangerous wand again.
The only last of Harry's spells would be crossing Voldemort's own in mid air. Voldemort was disarmed, Harry felt the green light oppress his chest. He started falling and his sight was of Draco Malfoy, coming from Voldemort's other side, holding his head firm, sucking his soul, Harry watched…
With a thump Harry Potter fell dead on a heap of oily blood, his eyes still on the twilight sky roof of the Great Hall. But that black night, Harry Potter could never and will never now see.