Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters of. That would be Jo.

Harry Potter, mysterious detective

I walked into the room, all shadows except for a few patches of light. I knew why I was there, the only real reason I would be. A girl. I could see her gagged and bound in a corner, her hair like a river of fire. Her chocolate eyes beseeched me but I had other business.

My enemy stood in front of me, hidden in the shadows but I knew he was there. This time only one of us would walk out of the room alive. The battles, the hunts, the deaths would all end here. They called me the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One. Yes I was chosen. Chosen to kill him.

He walked into the light, dressed in black like some superhero villain. I threw down the note that had led me here as he approached me. 'There is only on way this can end,' I snarled at him, 'a Wizard's Duel.'

He smirked at me, 'You think you can beat me, boy? You couldn't three years ago, you couldn't two years ago and you still can't now. Why do you want to prove it?'

He reached for his wand but I just a gave sarcastic smile, 'This is not just any duel. We start without our wands. Once it begins, we try to pull it out the fast.'

I could tell he just thought it was a ploy for my youth to beat him, something that would never work, and I was happy to let him think that. The real reason was I didn't want him to see my secret weapon. A weapon I would use to destroy him.

On the count of three we started. He hurried to grab his wand but I pulled something out quicker. I pistol. I shot him seven times, a magic number and paused even though he laid unmoving out the floor. I walked over and kicked him just to be sure.

He didn't move. He was really dead. I walked over to the dame and untied her. As I helped her up, she asked, 'What are you going to do? Now that he's dead and all.' I had never really thought of that. She had a good point. I stopped for a moment before hissing, 'Screw this, I'm just going to become a Muggle.'

She looked at me in shock but I no longer cared. I turned my back on her and walked out, though not before hitting my scar.

The End

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Author's note: This is a joke formed from a conversation my friend and I had on what Harry would do after killing Voldie. It got turned into detective style because… well it was fun. Please don't kill me. hides