Yeah, so I know I haven't updated Our Dark Saviour in absolutely yonks, but I have had no muse! And still don't! But, I was just sat here listening to Yiruma – Fairytale and this popped into my head, so I thought I'd write it! This will probably be a Harrymort btw...But it isn't in this chapter! Hope y'all enjoy! Might write some more if people like it...:D

DISCLAIMER: I DONT OWN HARRY POTTER! IF I DID I WOULD NEVER HAVE HAD HARRY AND GINNY TOGETHER EVER! HARRYMORT ALL THE WAY!

WARNING: SOME BLOODY VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER AND IT WILL PROBABLY BE SLASH LATER!

Grey smoke rose from the ground where countless bodies were scattered.

The sky was black. Fire billowed from the castle, not put off its raging course by the rain that fell from the heavens.

Hundreds of figures were charging at each other, throwing spells and curses.

The war had to happen, fate had deemed it so.

Harry Potter had been thrust into this war at the age of one when a dark wizard named Voldemort had hunted down his family.

After that, he had been given to people who hated him, and treated him so very badly it would make a man as cruel as Voldemort look like nothing.

Harry had gone to a school named Hogwarts where people thought he was a saviour. He gained friends, companions and people to rely on.

But it was all just a lie.

You see, these "friends" only used him for his fame and money.

They didn't care about him...

No one did.

As Harry stood face to face with his sworn enemy, he realised something.

Voldemort was the only one who had never lied to him.

Yeah, Voldemort had tried to kill him every year of his life, but that one fact made him feel slightly different for the...man.

Harry realised another thing.

He didn't know the man's ideals, just the "facts" Dumbledore had told him.

The thought of the man made Harry angry to the core.

The man had lied about everything else, so why should Harry think that this information was not just another lie, another manipulation?

Harry was exhausted, physically and mentally.

He didn't want to fight, he never had.

Harry just wanted someone to love him, someone to care. He didn't care about money, fame, power. He just wanted love, and yet that was the one thing that always escaped him.

And he thought that it would never find him.

So, that is what made him make his decision.

The enemies stood opposite each other in an empty room in Hogwarts.

"Have you nothing to say Potter?" Voldemort sneered, stepping ever so slightly closer to Harry.

Harry closed his eyes, breathed in deeply and sighed.

"I don't want this. I never have..."

"What was that Potter?" Voldemort questioned, red eyes slit with mild curiosity.

Harry released his grip on his wand and let it clatter to the stone floor.

"What are you..." Voldemort trailed off as he watched Harry kneel down on the floor before him.

"Please, just end it. I don't want to fight any more, it's all I've ever done. What's the point of living now? Everyone who I thought loved me just used me. I have nothing...no one worth fighting for any more, so what's the point?"

Harry looked down to the ground so that Voldemort would not see his tears of anguish cascade down his face.

All was silent.

Voldemort raised his wand, and Harry aited for that final blow to come.

Instead, Voldemort whispered: "Legillimence."

Suddenly, Harry was back in the kitchen at the Dursley's. He was frying some bacon for his cousin Dudley and his Uncle Vernon.

He started to daydream about being back at Hogwarts and seeing his "friends" again.

A deep bellowing voice startled him from his musings.

"FREAK! YOU HAVE BURNT IT!"

Vernon's plump form stood in the doorway to the kitchen, face a deep red shade in his anger.

Vernon stormed over and punched Harry's face with such power that the boy was sent tumbling to the ground. Vernon picked up the frying pan and tipped the boiling bacon and fat onto Harry's uncovered arms and legs.

Harry cried out in pain, and attempted to crawl away, but Vernon whacked the boy's face with the steaming pan.

"THIS..."

Another hit with the pan.

"WILL..."

Again.

"TEACH YOU TO NOT BURN MY FOOD FREAK!"

Vernon seized the boy, then threw him back to the ground.

"CLEAN THIS UP FREAK!"

With that said, Vernon left the room.

Harry whimpered as he surveyed the pool of blood that was surrounding him.

Memories such as this one played time and time again, before it was all suddenly over.

Harry clutched his head in pain as the sight of the classroom came back into focus.

He looked up to see Voldemort to find the man staring at him with a look in his eye that Harry had never seen before.

"No, I shall not not kill you...yet. You will be coming with me!"

Voldemort grasped Harry's right arm, hauled his body up and leant it against his own before apparating.

Harry found himself in an unfamiliar room. He felt himself be carried and placed on a soft bed. Before he had time to question where he was, a smooth, male voice commanded him to sleep, and he had no trouble in complying with that order.