Disclaimer: In this story there is no money being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

HE WHO FINALLY DIED

Written by B.N.R.

A story based on Harry Potter series.

-Main caracter: Hermione

-Main pair: Hermione/Voldemort

-Main antagonist: English wizard government and a few surprises

-Genre: Adventure, drama, mystery, romance

-Rating: T (for now)

Summary:

Several years after Voldemort's dead, a new law is approved by the council, the government leaders. Hermione's safety becomes threatened and she runs away to get help from someone unexpected, but first she will have to bring him back to the living.

A/N: THIS CHAPTER HASN'T BEEN REVISED YET; I apologize for any errors. However I will appreciate very much If you relate to me any mistake you find or any content you can't understand.

Prologue

The attack was violent and unexpected; the fierce fight that followed has already decimated our numbers in spite of our superiority in number and strength. My people, both servants and students, fall under direct or stranded spells. The situation is unacceptable; we were ready, it was supposedly under control.

My servants were surprised and the lack of a plan in the ambush dispersed them. It is laughable that this great master plan is being ruined by children's hands. But my own servants have not displayed more ingenuity and skill than a teenager, offending their standing and my name. Each death meant a blow to my judgement.

But, even worse, was watching the school fall apart. Its pillars gave away, the walls were pulled down and the framework collapsed over mutilated bodies. What one day was my home was disappearing as debris and dust by the wands of those who, allegedly, were fighting for it; teachers and students both, with the help of savage aurors, were now massacring the building and inducing a chaos that was also exterminating their school mates.

I had never imagined that something like this could have ever happened. Still, just like I fell in the past, my death is now imminent.

Maybe I hadn't prepared my servants and my people against such a raid. Again I had come to believe that fear would achieve a permanent cohesion, exposing, delivering and executing those few opponents.

My huge mistake will not only cause me my power, but it might take my life away too. However I'm not called Lord Voldemort in vain; my wit, my knowledge and my strength are inherent to myself and on no account I allow death to catch me.

Finally! There is the Potter's boy. He believes himself so great but, although it is true that his magic ability is over the main, he is nothing compared to what I was at his age. I need now to finish him off, there won't be any other time available, and the boy is too protected for an alternative and more intelligent action. I don't forget what his mother's magic did to me last time, nor the reaction between our own magic when duelling. I know I should make one of my servants kill him but I also know they are afraid of him. They, as the rest of the folk, believe that he can defeat Lord Voldemort. However it is only a shield of people that has kept alive so long.

First it was his mother's accidental and subconscious magic, then it was Dumbledore's home prisons and my own weakness; after my resurrection I realised he had become even more protected, this time by the bodies and minds of different supporters such as the Weasley family of blood traitors, the Black's spawn and, over those, the mudblood.

She is here too, again protecting him. She is always at his side, keeping him alive and searching for his answers. I could have killed him during their running this year around the country if it wasn't for her intelligence, cold blood and abilities. I should have dealt with her earlier in order to have a free path, but I hadn't known her, no one had told me of her real capacities and power, she had been taken as a low disturbance; her heritage didn't allow my Death Eaters to believe her a threat, she was no more than a rat.

But I knew better than these submissive bigots. Sadly the first time I learned about her menace it was already too late. After Dumbledore's death Malfoy's son, young Draco, let himself believe that blood didn't exactly work as purebloods were taught and he told me many interesting things I had never known about the trio and, specially, its brains. I realised why the boy had been able to evade me these last years.

I couldn't see now the blond boy, perhaps he was already dead… A pity, he had potential, much more than his father, who still was a powerful follower.

I have already lost too many combatants tonight; I need to put an end. Thus I slaughter an auror fighting in between Harry Potter and myself, who is stupidly trying to shield the boy from my sight. And so he sees me now and fires an Aveda to me before the man's body touches the floor. I can fell his rage; his magic is almost uncontrolled, which I was expecting. Harry is no mystery to me, just a difficult prey to catch.

I easily change the course of his spell, which I'm sure will kill someone else. I won't Avedaed him though; I already learnt it might not work with him. But there are other spells…

His curse has just been deflected when I quickly charm another of my own creation. Near him I can see his friend, the muggle girl, looking in shock to me while I fire. Her eyes, though, don't show fright but confusion and anger. However I have no time to act or understand. The curse only took a couple of seconds to be created, time when Harry, seeing his missed opportunity, only is able to point back at me again. Suddenly, when I feel my magic travelling through the wand, I also feel another spell hitting my back.

It doesn't hurt… Not like last time when I lost my body to my own spell. There is just tiredness, which, little by little, extends over my body, entering me into a world of darkness and nothingness. It might have taken just a moment, less than a second, but it was very long for me, as if time was slowing down to a halt.

Everything I had done was for nothing. The sacrifice of splitting my soul to create Horrorcruxes, the feeling of my soul trapped and suffering inside mere objects and the torture of feeling each of their deaths… The disgust the temporal non human body I had used this last years, or the lack of one before that… The agony and torment that had meant living as an astray soul, occupying any body available, whether it was human or not… And the anguish that implied drinking and living by unicorns' blood…

All the fight and the sacrifices of my own person had only led to my death. The need I felt for revenge was extreme. Revenge against the deceased manipulative Dumbledore who had began everything; against his naïve army; against the stupid government; against the vicious muggles; against the cursed boy; against my servants, that had allowed this… And against whom ever that had delivered the killing spell into my back. Lord Voldemort wanted revenge and death was going to forbade it to me.

The last thing I see before my end is the girl's eyes… And I know I don't have to be scared, I will come back.

A/N: All reviews are very much appreciated