Disclaimer: I don't own either Harry Potter or Final Fantasy VII and it's spin-offs. A girl can dream though.

Author's Notes: The third, and final, installment of the Insanity Trilogy. The first part of this story reflects part 1's sarcasm, at least partially. While I wanted to portray Harry as having a laid back/insane outlook on life, I also wanted to show his sense of responsibly, thus the caring of his gun. This is the mask he's taken to wearing in public. The second half reflects the seriousness seen in part 2. It shows Harry as he truly is in front of his beloved family (not that he'd ever say it out loud). Calm, serious, caring, and insightful is what Harry is in privet. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this trilogy. Later. Oh, and just so you know, this takes place at the end of Harry's seventh year, so it's been two years since Harry trained with Cloud and Vincent. I'd also like to apologize for my, almost, complete lack of knowledge about guns (I did do some research). Okay, one more note, this is all in Harry's point of view.

Insanity's Wisdom

It was a rather pleasant day at Hogwarts. The sun shining, birds singing, deadly spells flying every where. Then again, maybe it wasn't such a pleasant day. Harry sighed as he absently deflected another stray spell, and watched it hit a near by Death Eater, bored. The way the Death Eater exploded when hit with the deflected spell was interesting, though; There was a decent splatter radius with that one. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Harry turned back to his conjured table and began cleaning Quicksilver, the gun that Vincent gave him when he finished his training with him and Cloud, again. He huffed softly to himself. This so called "final battle" was a joke. Both sides were flailing about like fish out of water. It made him wonder why the magical community hadn't died out yet. Not to mention it was so freaking clichéd it made his teeth ache. Grunting, he glanced back up to Voldemort. Rolling his eyes, he went back to cleaning. Voldemort was still ranting.

"Old people talk to much," he muttered to himself.

The "final battle" had been going on for about four hours now and Voldemort had been ranting ever since they'd met two hours ago. Five minutes in, he'd conjured a recliner to sit in. Five minutes after that, he'd conjured a table and a deck of cards and started a game of solitaire. Fifty minutes later, he'd banished the cards, summoned his gun cleaning kit, and started cleaning his gun. Now, an hour later, Voldemort was still going strong. He hadn't even repeated himself, either. That was the only thing that impressed him. Well, that's not quite true. The fact that Voldemort could talk so much in one breath was some what impressive, too. Just some what, though. He was already used to Hermione doing it so it wasn't really that new.

He hummed happily as he clicked the last piece of his gun in place and gave it one last polish. By this time the rest of the "battle" was winding down with his side the winners of the "flailing contest" as he'd been calling the battle since it started. He was so going to beg Cloud and Vincent to pack everything up and move somewhere where common sense didn't equate to mass stupidity. Sighing, he wondered if that was even possible. Vincent did tell him that no matter where you go or how much time passes, common sense wouldn't be very common.

Shaking his head, he banished his cleaning kit and table back to where they came from. Taking out a single bullet, he loaded it and gave the gun's chamber a spin. Smoothly, he leveled the gun at Voldemort's head and pulled the trigger. Then pouted. He was hoping to get the bullet on the first shot, Voldemort's ranting was getting annoying. He glanced over and gave Hermione and Ron a grin as the slowly saddled up next to him. Looking back to Voldemort, he pulled the trigger again only to get another empty chamber.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Ron asked hesitantly, eying the still ranting Voldemort dubiously.

He shot Ron a smirk and pulled the trigger for a third time and huffed when he got another empty chamber.

"I'm playing Russian Roulette with Moldypants's head," he answered even as he got another empty chamber.

Glancing over, he saw Ron looking at him in confused silence while Hermione was staring at him with a "you're kidding?" look on her face.

"Moldypants?" Hermione asked.

He just gave her an innocent look that was ruined by the mischievous smirk on his lips. He grinned widely as his fifth pull of the trigger produced another empty chamber. He heard Hermione sigh at him and he could see her shaking her head at him with an expression that was a combination of tired, exasperated, and amused with a tough of the "why me?" look.

"You're insane, Harry," she said, her expression gaining an indulgent look.

His grin took on the insane quality that he gained since visiting his family's secret vault the summer before sixth year. Had two years really passed that fast?

"I could've told you that, Hermione," he said turning back to Voldemort.

By this time, all the light fighters still on the battle field were watching Voldemort rant with raised eye brows. Sighing, he stood and banished his chair back to it's proper place. A slow, insane grin spread across his face as he leveled his gun at Voldemort once again.

"Hey Moldypants!" he called, eyes shining, causing Voldemort to spin toward him with an insulted expression on his face.

Grin widening, he pulled the trigger. With an explosion of sound, the bullet shot out of the barrel and impacted with Voldemort's head right between the eyes, blowing it off his shoulders and scattering blood, bone, and brain matter over a decent sized radius. He hummed contently to himself as he holstered his gun.

"Finally," he sighed. "He's been ranting for the past two hours."

"Then why didn't you kill him sooner?" Tonks asked from his left, a bewildered look on her face.

He shrugged and started back towards the castle before pausing and half turning back to the group a smirk on his lips and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"I wanted to see if he'd notice I wasn't paying attention to him and how long it'd take," he said even as his smirk took on it's insane quality again. "That and I thought that the irony of Voldemort being defeated by a muggle weapon was to good to pass up."

With that said, he threw a wave over his shoulder as he continued back up to the castle and disappeared inside leaving the purebloods in the group bewildered and the muggleborns laughing. It was also at this point Ron snapped out of his confused stupor and turned to Hermione.

"What's Russian Roulette?" he asked.

Hermione snickered at her friend and rolled her eyes. Trust Ron to miss Harry defeating Voldemort when it was happening right in front of him.

"I'll tell you later," she said as she grabbed his sleeve and began tugging him back up to the castle and to the infirmary.

--o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o--

From a shadowed alcove in the main hall, Harry, flanked by two larger shadowed people, watched the light fighters bustle from place to place, a small smile on his lips.

"What do you intend to do now?" Cloud asked. "Your war is over."

"I'm not really sure," he said, turning and leading his ancestors deeper into the alcove and into a secret passage. "I might hang around for a bit. I've been considering bugging the two of you into packing everything up and moving elsewhere, though. I don't think the British magical community will last much longer despite what they think."

Cloud hummed in reply but remained silent until they reached his privet rooms and had settled down around the fire with drinks.

"The majority of the magical world is stagnant," Vincent said softly, voicing what all three knew.

"The world's going to evolve again isn't it?" he asked just as soft.

Cloud and Vincent remained silent. That silence was answer enough, though. Big changes were coming and not many would survive. He smiled and closed his eyes, resting his head against the back of his chair. He knew he would survive what was coming, he was actually looking forward to it. Looking forward to seeing what was coming and seeing how things would turn out. That was the most interesting thing about the world, it was always changing, always evolving. He opened his eyes and stood, walking to the mantle and looked at the mirror Sirius gave him so long ago. He couldn't wait to see how the world changed. A pair of glowing, mako green eyes stared back at him from the mirror.

--End--