Wrath's Rise, War's End

"Become Wrath, Harry Potter."

The words resonated in the manor from his arch enemy standing before him, his arms spread wide in supplication. The mocking sneer and the coldness in his eyes showed that it was all an act. An act of grandeur and indifference. Lord Voldemort would never show anything akin to supplication. The notion of humility was as foreign to him as the thought of death.

"Harry, don't-", but whatever Ron was about to say was drowned in the harsh laughter emanating from Lord Voldemort.

"What's wrong Harry Potter? Do you not seek to avenge her? Or Are you too afraid to embrace the darkness within and become the specter of vengeance?" snarled Lord Voldemort, "Become Wrath!"

Shadows gathered around them as Voldemort spoke and all of his Death Eaters emerged out of those pools of darkness, stepping out of that inky blackness at his gesture.

Dearest Bellatrix, Muggle-hating Malfoy, Dolohov the Destroyer, Silver-tongued Rookwood, Malicious Macnair, the Cruel and Callous Carrows, the Brothers Rabastan and Rodolphus, and finally, the Traitor – Wormtail.

All of Voldemort's inner circle gathered around the two, boxing them in the circle with their Master.

Voldemort clapped his hands in a strangely childish manner and spoke in a reedy voice, sounding a small girl. An insane, psychopathic, girl.

"What is the matter Harry Potter? Cat-got-your-tongue?" He made biting notions to punctuate every word of the latter.

"Afraid that you and your Weasel friend will end up like her? Don't worry, I'll make sure that you get the beds next to her in St. Mungos- It'll probably be renamed appropriately under my rule, but let's not worry over trivial matters. The Golden Trio shall be united in their anguish and madness. Consider it my gift to you."

He twirled in those gruesome black robes of his and clapped his hands, his eyes flashed a dangerous red. The Death Eaters were a bit disturbed by his antics, but they played along with him and clapped their hands, lest their Master direct his ire at them.

"You shall be reunited with your love in holy insanity, let it not be said that the Dark Lord isn't generous, Mr. Potter", he sneered malevolently.

"Or would you prefer death, like your dear old Godfather, that wizened, old, Headmaster of yours, and your parents? It must sting, to know that he was wrongly incarcerated for half his life by the 'good guys', only to escape and spend the last year of his life in another prison, stranded in a house haunted with old ghosts."

The Dark Lord laughed again, a horrific sound, like the raking of fingernails across a blackboard. Harry stared at him impassively, while Ron comically tried to keep an eye on all the Death Eater's at the same time.

"So much despair, Harry Potter. Yet you cannot embrace the darkness coursing through your veins and attack me. You would listen to my taunts but not draw that wand and wield the darkness. You disappoint me, Harry Potter. Your reluctance shall be your demise. Accept your inherent nature and become Wrath, or will you die without putting up a fight, Harry Potter. You-"

"You talk too much," spoke a new voice from beyond the circle.

"Who dares interrupt Lord Voldemort?" roared the Dark Lord.

The bodies of Macnair and the Lestrange brothers went up in flames and were burned to a crisp, viciously immolated as a hole sprung up in the circle where a few moments earlier the Death Eater's had been chuckling gleefully.

A woman clad in robes of bright scarlet and gold similar to the plumage of a Phoenix could be seen walking towards them. She had brown hair which cascaded over her shoulders and gleamed under the soft moonlight penetrating the gloom from the windows. There was a small scar on her left cheek, and her chocolate brown eyes glinted dangerously as she surveyed her handiwork.

"Never liked them", she murmured, looking at the charred bodies of the Death Eaters.

"You! You're supposed to be cowering in madness in St. Mungos", shouted the Dark Lord in shock and outrage. The other Death Eaters looked at her in fear. Malfoy was visibly trembling.

Only Harry was the one smiling as if he had expected her appearance when she approached him. Ron gave her a bewildered but happy smile.

"Rumours of my insanity have been greatly exaggerated," she spoke to the room at large, before grabbing Harry and kissing him soundly.

"You're late", Harry said softly, as he caught her face between his hands.

"I'm sorry, love. It took me a while to convince Madam Pomfrey that I was fine", she replied.

He drew her in for a kiss and twirled her around before letting her down.

"Glad to have you back, Hermione" Ron said with a wide smile.

"Glad to be back, Ron", she said, giving him a hug.

"What is the meaning of this? You're supposed to be insane and lashed to a bed in St. Mungos", screamed Lord Voldemort.

"Oh please stop going about like a broken record, it's boring" Hermione waved dismissively at the Dark Lord.

"You see, we were just waiting for her to get here before we killed you. Wouldn't want her to miss her chance at revenge and incur her wrath. Her anger is truly a force to reckon with", grinned Harry, raising his wand.

"Oh hush you," said Hermione, though she was smiling. She raised her own wand.

Ron just shook his head at the couple's antics and raised his own wand. "Ready guys?" he asked.

"Been ready since 6th year", Harry replied, while Hermione merely nodded.

The Death Eaters were caught between looking at them in confusion and asking their Lord for orders, while Voldemort screamed in anger, "Kill the vermin!"

"With pleasure," Harry said, as the trio exploded in action.

Hermione's reducto caught Malfoy senior in his neck, killing him before he could move. Her second- a curse which burned and blasted at the same time- took Dolohov apart in a gory spray of blood and organs. She fired off her piercing hex which took apart Wormtail's silver arm just as Bellatrix's killing curse reached her. Before she could react, Ron who had just blown Rookwood's head of his shoulders had conjured a slab of rock in front of Bella's curse and shielded Hermione. In these few seconds, Harry had unleased his famous Potter Spellchain and finished off the Carrows leaving behind nothing but a smoking crated and the ghastly smell of charred and burnt flesh. He had felt no panic or dread when the killing curse had raced towards Hermione. They had trained together for a long time and he had faith in Ron's abilities as a Defender in their team to protect either of them from any fatal injuries while they concentrated on attack.

Even then, he felt a white hot anger within him as he looked at Bellatrix whose expression of glee had turned to petulant frustration when she realized that her spell had failed to do its job. Magic roiled off him in waves as he stared at her and for the first time in Bella's life, she did not feel the customary thrill and joy which the thought of battle or pain brought to her. Instead, she felt a bone-deep fear and despair. She knew that she would not be escaping this battle alive. But she was her Master's favourite Death Eater! And she was a Lestrange! She would not die without a fight, but those were the last thoughts she would have. She was about to utter the incantation of the Killing Curse again, when Harry stared at her in unrestrained fury and righteous anger. He flung his left hand at her and shouted, "Die, bitch!" while making a crumpling action. Blood streamed from Bellatrix's eyes, ears, and nose, before she crumpled and imploded on herself. What left behind was a pile of mere skin, some blood and crumbled, crushed, bone.

While Harry had been busy with Bellatrix, Hermione had taken the fight to the Dark Lord, whose shock at the completely efficient way in which his inner circle had been destroyed was just passing. Ron had sent a piercing hex at Wormtail and destroyed his other arm and was making bad jokes along the lines of, "I just disarmed you, rat!" and "Do you need a hand?"

Hermione was holding her own against Voldemort's savage attacks. In fact, she was doing better than just holding her own. She had forced the Dark Lord on the defensive and as the two of them went at each other with a complex barrage of curses, jinxes, hexes, and counter-charms. They had training rigorously for a long time for this encounter and it showed.

She leaped aside Volodemort's Avada Kedavra, evaded his Crucio, and sent back her specially invented version of Fiendfyre at him, which he smothered with cascading cold water. She sent the water back at him as freezing cold shards of ice, which he transfigured into mist, hoping to escape in it, seeing that his inner circle had been eliminated and even Bellatrix had fallen. He was just about to turn and run in the mist, when Ron sent Wormtail's disembodied body crashing into him from behind, sending the Dark Lord sprawling on the floor. Harry vanished the mist with a flick of his wand, just as a huge, spiked, brown boot crashed into his face and disoriented Voldemort.

Hermione stood over a Dark Lord bleeding from numerous gashes on his face. He conjured and sent a huge black snake at the girl, only for Harry to turn it into a teddy bear.

"Honestly Harry, you know I am not a fan of teddy bears", chided Hermione.

That was when Lord Voldemort realized that they were toying with him and all his plans for dominance over all magicals had failed spectacularly.

He brandished his wand to send a final spellchain at his opponents drawing up all the power from his magical core even if it killed him, only for Ron to cleave his wand in two with a Sectumsempra.

"Please..." began the Dark Lord, only for Harry to shush him.

"Now don't start begging, Voldemort. Wouldn't want to lose whatever amount of respect we had for you", smirked Hermione.

"Please…Harry Potter", he turned to Harry.

Harry looked at the pitiful excuse of what was once a human and smiled, "Now, now, now, Tommy. You wanted me to become Wrath, well, you just saw the embodiment of Wrath, Dark Lord. And it wasn't impressed."

Lord Voldemort looked at Ronald Weasley, "Please…you are a pureblood, surely you will help me. Pl-"

"Don't even think about it, Snakeface", he said in a disgusted tone of voice.

"You're done, Tom. Say hello to Hades for me," Harry nodded to the others and together they pointed their wands at a Dark Lord who did not hold fear for them anymore.

"Goodbye, Tom", Harry said softly, "May the Fields of Punishment welcome you home".

Then three voices spoke as one:

"Avada Kedavra".

-Finite Incantatem-