Magic Unbound: Wrath of Harry Potter

by Nameless Mist

Somewhat AU. The story unfolds after Harry confronts Voldemort in forbidden forest and dies his fateful death. After his meeting with his headmaster, he confronts an unusual entity that changes his life forever. OP Voldemort and an OP Harry Potter.

A/N I've been an avid fanfiction reader for a long time. And it has been some time now, I wanted to write one of my own. The idea of this story came out of crossovers and many other Potter fictions, but largely it was Hellsing's and Man of Steel's influence that made me realize how would it be, if Harry Potter somehow managed to unleash his power in a great different way. One-Shot!

There might be lots of mistakes with plot lines, spellings, and grammar. Please do rectify and remind me if I have done so. English is not really my first language, but I'm willing to learn through writing.

Summary: Somewhat AU. The story unfolds after Harry confronts Voldemort in forbidden forest and dies his fateful death. After meeting with his headmaster, he faces an unusual entity that changes his life forever.

I do not own Potter verse, or the resident Vampire of Hellsing universe.

Warning: There might be some character bashing and an OP Voldemort also an OP Harry.

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Magic Unbound: Wrath of Harry Potter

It was a day of the reckoning; fate had plans to gravel all of them that were involved. Fate of two marred whole lot of people, from the commoners to the elite of them. It did not matter if it were children, women or the old ones. As war waged on between two factions, bright lights echoed along with the screams of agony, and cry of loss rug throughout Hogwarts, a school. But, unaware to all, the Boy-who-lived was already stuck with the killing curse. The Dark Lord was flung backwards with force he had never considered of. Voldemort always assumed, the child of prophecy to be a mere child. Voldemort was leagues above in terms of power, along with intelligence and vastly, leagues above in knowledge. So above, he was considered frighteningly— to be on the same league to that of the old man Dumbledore. For years he had engaged the wizarding society remaining in shadows until the prophecy was made, that is when he made his first mistake. His actions were not needed, but his curiosity and fear of survival deliberately chose Time, to take over his awareness, and his Fate was sealed. He could've ignored the prophecy, there was no such thing as prophecy. Prophecies involved Gods not mere mortals. The petty wizards of this generation who are so self-obsessed and self-indulged, they are not Gods. He was a fool to believe the rambling of a school teacher who could have been under the influence of firewhiskey. Yet, he made a mistake, which had led him to this... situation.

However, he never feared the boy, no; there was nothing to be afraid of. He was powerful for a reason, and the only course of action he took was to survive his mortality. And, the path to immortality was not to be hindered by a mere child.

Yet he woke up after the effect of the curse disoriented, scared, surprised and affronted. Remembering the first time he died from his own curse which bounced back to him. Perhaps, the prophecy was right, but unfortunately the boy was not aware or had not realized the power he held.
He must thank the senile Headmaster, for keeping the boy in dark for so long that he had left all his believes upon the shoulder of the senile instead of himself. The boy was his equal, yet the delusions and faiths moulded into him had certainly locked his potential. The boy made a mistake of trusting the old man rather than making his own path; he chose to walk on the road paved by the old man.

It was mirthful, Voldemort realized, how easily the old man believed the prophecy as well. No mortal had a destiny or fate, their only purpose is to revel in their own delusions and pleasures of life. But, this prophecy had laid a foundation, and his own action had sealed his fate. However, it was Dumbledore, that believed the prophecy to such extent and petulantly he thought it shall be accomplished by the child. And that man's actions and faults had led everyone to death and suffering in this war.

His eyes were wide, not of fear but realization. He had missed one horcrux, unaware; the boy had a part of his. Killing the boy had destroyed his own soul. But, he could careless; one sacrifice of his soul or even all of them cannot diminish his powers. He had enough to bring the whole wizarding world to its knees. These school children are nothing, but an example must be set. His power should be displayed; both mankind and wizarding-kind must know what he was, and what he was capable of.

As he got up to his feet, his eyes found the body of Potter. The child of prophecy rests few feet away from him and his followers. He wished to know if he was alive, and Narcissa was already there, crouched to check any signs. However, he was not surprised to hear the child was dead.
Somehow, it was disappointing. Dying, without having the knowledge of one's potential is a punishment to one's soul. He wished to fight the boy, wished to unravel the child's power. But, alas, it was a tale for another life, if not anymore. At-least, the boy died for that petty populace of society, which bore the woe of humanity and mundane. But, rather he was disappointed for the fact the boy died for their reasons, and not his own.
Self-sacrifice, it was laughable. Shaking his head mirthfully, he grimaced, and followed the path towards the castle. Now he must set an example. And the world shall know what Voldermort was truly capable of.

He turned back to his followers and spoke, "Leave the boy alone, there is no purpose for him to come. He's dead, let his body be a feast for the creatures here." "But, Master, is not favourable, to present our enemies that their leader had died by your hands to instil fear and doubt?" Ah Bellatrix, always loyal, and a monster in her own right. The woman's hesitation to speak always made him happy or content; despite being a monster that woman was closely his fierce follower. If it was someone else, the crucio was always a good headache removal remedy for stupidity, but Bellatrix was not stupid. He never considered her to be so lowly in his ranks.

"Bellatrix, I'm pleased with your... connotation, but this child, was no leader, a martyr, yes, but not a leader. The leader of Light!" he snapped, not at her but to everyone else who paid their attention to him, "As they said, Dumbledore...is already dead! Perhaps he is rolling on his grave knowing it's the beginning of the end; perhaps he is somewhere sucking of his abysmal sweets in anticipation that his loved ones... will finally meet him on the other side. We should care less what he had done, but we must do what we can now. And, that is to make an example!"

Everyone cheered in agreement, Bellatrix cackled manically, and bowed before him. His eyes fell upon Narcissa's nervous face and narrowed his eyes on her. "Narcissa,"

She straightened up hearing him call out her name, and her name alone, caused everyone to quiet down. Narcissa, soon covered her face with a blank expression while guarding her mind with occlumency. The attention unnerved her, quietly, her eyes searched for Lucius who was staring at her blankly "Milord?"

"Did I say something wrong? You seemed a little... agitated." He drawled eyes boring unto her very soul. She was frightened, but she didn't allow the emotion to saw up on her face.

"No, milord..."

"Perhaps, you are disappointed?" Lucius narrowed his eyes at the Malfoy matriarch, but still his face was unwelcome of any reaction.

"Disappointed? No, milord..." She bowed her head, to distract herself from the attention.

"Yes, yes... it seems to me, you were expecting the Potter child to be alive?" Her eyes twitched ever so slightly, that many of them missed.

"N—never milord..."

"Bellatrix," Bellatrix who was silently watching the interaction turned her heel towards the fallen boy. She dropped down on her knees, and laid her hands on his chest. Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprising, it was not beating.

"He's truly dead, Master." She spoke with utter glee.

"Please, pray tell Narcisssa, why were you so agitated?" his eyes searched her, but her eyes were lowered not giving any chance for him to look into her mind.

"I... I am worried... about Draco." Ah family, Voldermort mused amusingly.

"No need, my dear, we shall look for him, and allow him to join us. There is no need for such questions to arise, trust your Lord, and trust your instinct. After all, mother knows best, if you do not trust your instinct then what kind of mother you are?" his mock tune of voice surprised everyone, apart from Bellatrix who cackled dementedly and joined beside him.

How dare he speak of mother's instinct!

While she inwardly fumed for the insult, Voldemort had already turned and faced Bellatrix and spoke gently, "If you want to instil fear and incertitude, and then why not create a dummy, it shall have the same effect as the real one. I must confess, I am impressed with the boy..."
Everyone's eyes widened, yet no one dared to voice their opinion, "...after all, he came here to die, don't we respect a little honour, my dear Bellatrix? The boy is dead, he is not coming back, but his rotting carcass might be useful for the creatures."

Bellatrix imagined worse possible scenario for Potter boy to rot and get eaten or swallowed by the creatures from the forest. It was utterly disgusting yet she was pleased and somewhat aroused at the thought. Nevertheless, she was sadistic, and rather enjoyed her imaginations.
Waving her wand in a complex motion, she transfigured a bog rock into Potter boy's replica. She pushed more magic for the rock to retain the change for more than a day or so. Lucius conjured clothes the boy was wearing. Voldemort waved his hand and replica was dressed with the conjured clothes of Potter.

Hagrid who watched all of it was paying no attention to their conversation. His crestfallen eyes were upon the teenager and reflected the time he had picked up from his cot after that fateful night. Those moments of wonderment, was forever imprinted on his very soul. How could he believe his student, his friend was dead? How can he forget the cheerful smile while he accompanied him to Diagon Alley for the first time, about all those time he visited him throughout these six years? It was not fair for him die, he was not supposed to die! Professor Dumbledore assured him, Harry must not die! But, he is dead!

His blank stare fell upon the levitated body of Potter near his knees. Unconsciously, he picked accepted him, and the déjà vu crushed his heart in a vice like grip. It reminded him of that fateful night when he took him to the Dursleys. The chains shackled forcefully as he was tugged back to his feet with Harry on his arm. His forlorn expression was met with sadistic cackle from Bellatrix as she mocked him, and began walking after her master towards Hogwarts. Hagrid didn't even realize the body he was carrying was a fake.

Unknown to all, Harry Potter, the sixteen year old dead teenager was in a complete different place.

"Is it real, Professor, or is it inside my head?" he asked, it was all rather disturbing and confusing at the same time. The King's Cross station was rather unnerving without anyone but the old coot, who had apparently raised him like a pig for slaughter. But, his heart was big and he had already forgiven the man for the greater good.

"Of-course it's in your head, Harry." He with a twinkle on his eyes displaying mirth, and began walking towards a bright light so overwhelming Harry had to close him eyes momentarily blind.

"Wait, Professor, how do I get out from this?" he called out but to no avail, the man was already gone. "Professor..." Inside his head...was he unconscious or was he truly dead?

A quiet chuckle behind his back snapped his head towards the source. Harry was surprised to see someone after being here for a time. His conversation with Dumbledore was not quite enlightening, apparently he had done what the prophecy had asked him for, and his destiny was achieved. He had died, along with Voldemort, or rather his soul. Yet, why does he doesn't feel happy? Maybe, the real one was wrecking havoc?
Before him stood, stood Harry himself, or rather a reflection of some sort but without a mirror. But there were differences. The black mass of unruly long hair surprised him; it was nearly about his shoulder. He stood about an inch or two taller than himself. But, more importantly the eyes reminded him of Voldermort, or rather Tom Riddle. Suddenly he became wary, and as such, the King Cross's white structure was engulfed in black. The only thing remained were him and his not-quite-look-a-like.

"Who are you?" He asked, the boy before him although was similar to him, his fierce crimson eyes spoke of age far beyond the face.

The boy before him silently studied him, with less amused expression and grunted, "Who am I?" he paused, continuing, "That question itself is a contradiction, I sense no curiosity from you, but, that explains you have the common sense or even self-awareness to understand who or what I am."

"Well, that doesn't answer my question." Harry huffed petulantly, as his green eyes narrowed at his duplicate.

The amused face fiercely glared, and a sneer replaced his lips, "How about you tell me, Gryffindor? Apparently, you were gifted with so many advices and wisdoms it's not even funny, so, tell me, 'Harry', who do you think I am? Humour me."

Harry glared at the boy. A sneer of his own replaced his curious face, he spoke, "You have his eyes"

"Whose?" the boy before him taunted.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and opened with profound snarled, "Voldemort, or rather Tom Riddle. Are you that fragment that was stuck inside my head? I saw that rotting corpse of the ugliest child right there. But how did you suddenly come alive? You look like me, either that fragment had already possessed me, which I don't think is possible because both you and I are dead..."

"...so, I must be imagining things. You are dead, so am I. There's nothing you can do, Voldemort, you will die... my friends are going to kill Nagini, and soon, you'll die! You can't repossess me!" He screamed at the boy before him. Worrying about his friend always made him anxious, now the fact of him being dead appeared before him he was extremely agitated to go back to help them, if by taking that path back will drop him dead, then he will gladly do so for his friends, again and again.

The boy before him was surrounded with deep green, killing curse green, his anger visible on his crimson red eyes, shaking the very foundation they were standing on, his look-alike growled, "Excuses and delusions are pathetic, Harry Potter. You say I am Voldemort, or Riddle, yet I have your face, I may not share your eyes, because I am not completely you. And, your answers or assumption are quite ridiculous and hilarious. By now, most people would've realized things if they were on your situation if I wager on it."

"Then do enlighten me, great mister unknown!" Harry mocked, his own temper surfaced and a red force of light surrounded him. He could sense anger which he really despised now.

The boy before him breathed deep breaths to calm himself, before he began his barrage of shouts, "I am that voice that you forcefully subsided for far too long! I am that voice... that doubts... that you ignored when you blindly became a pig for a slaughter, that voice you ignored in path of vengeance, and your idiocy is insulting you, and the worse thing? You don't even care about it!

I am that force that had you survive all these years, but you rather depended on your dumb fucking luck and that old bat Dumb'fucking'dore and Hermione than yourself! I am that force that was restraint countless time since you were born! Your mother bound me! That old bat bound me more than you realize! You made me a handicap all these years. I am your conscience! Intent! Power! Knowledge! I am your magic! Which you thoroughly ignored to flourish, to become that greatness that Olivander and Sorting Hat had called for! I am that voice of rationality, you ignored in time of need, your recklessness preceding that of Gryffindor himself, and who am I? I am that Slytherin you ignored all these years! And, I am you! You stupid fuckwit! Don't you realize it's not you or I, it's we?! How fucking dumb you are? I am you." He was not even breathing hard, just scowled at Harry.

Harry on the other hand was simply frustrated beyond measures; his temper which was thoroughly ignoring all these years was surfacing. His brows furrowed and he snarled, "How can you be my conscience? My intentions were ever very clear since I stepped foot in Hogwarts; I don't want to take the path of Darkness, and I can see that negative emotions running through my vein, taunting me to lash out, taunting me to kill. How can I go so low to even forget I am what my father and mother wished to be, a good son, a good student to my professors, a good friend! I am good! I am with Light!"

His look-alike was unfazed, when a burst of red energy crushed their foundation for a moment that black surround, flared red, but was replaced itself to the previous colour, he began his rants once more, with more force," There is no such thing as Light or Dark you numbskull! You were indoctrinated since you stepped on your very school, you were indoctrinated! You consumed Dumbledore's words as gospel swallowing the dogma! NO!" he roared, And, he continued, "It was rather you made up your mind by listening to your fickle friends and not yourself!"

"Don't you fucking dare?!" Harry snarled, "Do not accuse my friends for my decisions!" "I'll do as I please, as it's the only time I can have this conversation with you, you ignorant arse!" The boy continued his verbal assaults, "The authority loving humans, who look up to the most powerful, out of respect, out of fear, it is the same thing! People look up to power worthy, you made up your mind that he is some kind of God with greater power than you! You forgot he was a man like you! And, most importantly, you saw what that man did to you, how the fuck can you forgive him so easily?!"

He visibly shook with violent temper as the foundation was shaking with malice, "And with you, your friends became victims as well..." his voice almost a whisper, serenely he spoke, yet his bloodshot eyes spoke a different story, "Your parents wanted you to live, 'you' to live, not because they wanted you to be a martyr, a pig to slaughter. How can you respect that man blindly who moulded you into a sacrificial lamb and not a survivor? I can't believe how you gravel in kindness and forgiveness after all the shits they've given you. You were brainwashed to such decree that you ignored the benefit of doubt, which in turn made you weak, unstable, vulnerable. But it astounds me the self-control to remain self-righteous; you are so self-righteous that you become the same thing you hate. You are bigoted towards 'Dark', you see the world in black and white, and while ignoring the fact those are sides of a coin... ...and when you spin you can see both. To say that you are light because he told you so and you assumed, and I am Dark because I am your emotions is idiotic whilst ignoring your own self. How can you not see, I am the part you largely ignored. You never respected yourself because you felt pride, envy, anger, resentment, brood, depression...the likes of a human," he paused, "...but I am also joy, love, content, you are whole, not just a fragment of feelings. You are a human, a man. That man raised you to be martyr of Light, to be a sufferer for The Greater Good. Snape's pensieve was the evidence; I don't understand how you still respect him. I pity you now, really, I do."

"He took me under his wings when I needed him!" Harry sneered, his denial set upon the legacy of Dumbledore. The man did great many things for him, he felt like he was indebted to him. Eleven years of abuse at Dursleys, and his call for a saviour was answered with a letter to enrol into his school. The struggle, he met countless times was soothed by his grandfatherly humour, and mirthful eyes. He was his mentor, a grandfather he didn't have. How can he not respect him?

"Oh, yeah!?" The boy before him clenched his fist as a white glow surrounded it, he was struggling to keep himself from striking Harry, but he cannot lose this argument, so he calmed and loosened his grip on his fist, and countered, "He kept you in the dark for so long, he didn't even encouraged you or anyone to know about your family, or even your parents. And, when did he take you under his wings? He abandoned you for eleven years, abandoned and encouraged your friends to comply too, when Sirius died, left you isolated in that hellhole. Alone!" he roared, as a swirl of green surrounded him again.

He added almost morosely, "Your trial, that is the day, he looked for you to see him as the man you believe him to be, a man who gave you what you desire in time of need. But, you really didn't need him if you were aware of your surroundings or politics, if you only had embraced the Slytherin, even just for a moment. And, also, please do remind me how he helped you during your hunt?"

"He told me about it!" Harry exclaimed, yet it sounded very much like an excuse to preserve his praise of Dumbledore. That was what the man had done, nothing much. He left him alone with a bunch of pensieve memories, as clues and destinations. He was thankful to have such great friends who stood by his side till the end, the man encouraged him to be with their company, and it was because of them he hadn't lost his sanity to Dark.

The boy with red eye, responded grimly, "According to you he is God himself, why couldn't he do it himself? Moreover, why did he wait for Sirius' death to tell you about the ridiculous prophecy? And he told you about horcrux when he was about to die."

"He never said he was God!" snarled Harry.

"I didn't say he did, I said you considered him to be so." Harry's eyes narrowed at his implication, although the boy continued his assaults, "Oh but, he surely did controlled everyone's will and emotions like a God while being in denial he was doing everything for their own good. Who gave him permissions to say and to manipulate one person to be on his side? That fact that he believed himself that he was forever right is the proof that he thinks of himself as a God, or, rather someone with power would. Regardless of what you believe about him, you can see the connection between him and Voldemort, both are leader of two factions. Unlike Voldemort's blood purity, and hate for non-magicals, Dumbledore hated him back, so much he had to raise a child to martyrdom both had their heads so far up their arse they can't see anything but their causes. Voldemort doesn't care if people die for his belief, so does Dumbledore, but, in his excuse, it was all for the greater good... all for the greater good."

Harry was dumb-struck all of a sudden, all implications and argument put before him had no counter to speak of. Whatever his look-alike said, was in-fact true... to some extent, Dumbledore was shady at best. He kept to himself, kept all the secrets and speaks not about it even when it was necessary. Those traits of him truly frustrated him, the fact that he knew of everything yet did nothing to prevent was all reasons for Harry to hate him. All those titles on his big arse name held nothing, it has no weight? Although, he did hated him, cursed his old ass back to school, but what could he do to that aged wizard who was a person that even Voldemort feared.

He couldn't do anything, as every memory of him struck his very soul and rattled his mind. He realized this boy was right, and soon, he was disgusted at the fact that the old man whom he looked upon to be really flawed, redeemable, but still flawed. However, whatever he had done, he cannot keep his grudge, and instead all he could do was to forget about it. But, before that, he inhaled sharply, and screamed at the top of his lungs. And, he was rewarded with bombardment of memories of deceptions, mysteries and shady businesses all around and involved him. His anger surfaced, with memories of betrayals from his mates, during all these years of accepting their scorns, and furious glares, their obsession to put him down... all came down with vengeance, he fell unto his knees, and tears rolled down his cheeks. Yet, no sob escaped, no keening occurred, he just let it all out. He didn't know for how long he cried, the boy quietly observed his fallen form. Harry sniffed, and rubbed off the tears and hoarsely asked, "What do you want me to do?"

His look-alike smiled as if for the first time, it appeared he had wrinkles on his cheeks, he announced, "There's a long way to go from realization to truth. The question is not me, the question is you. What do you want to do? I'm just your magic, a sub consciousness you have had ignored. Wherever you go, I'll have to be there for you to survive, unless you are an ignorant bigot without an open mind." In spite of the verbal spar he offered, "Would you like to know how different you are? How powerful you are?"

"I don't really think I am, both Dumbledore, and Voldemort are leagues above me, I'm just a teenager." It came as a whisper, as Harry sighed and looked at his look-alike from below.

The boy before him studied him almost curiously, as his gaze bore unto his skull, he spoke with great conviction "No, you are not. Believe me, Harry; you are nearly on their league. The prophecy stated, the power he knows not, and you are his equal or at-least in raw magical energy. I am that power, Harry. But, the bogus prophecy is crazy talk. You just lack the knowledge they have, their age has advantage, the books they have read, the research they have done vastly exceeds yours...

...if only you relied more on your improvement, rather than being pushed by Hermione you could've reached their level in knowledge by now. But, I am your magic, your core, or some say your reserve"

Seeing Harry's eyes widen, he proceeded, "You see, I was restrained, bound so many times, that I became handicap, so weak to reach out for you but somehow I did, but it was you who found me, it's how it was supposed to be, your will allows me to perform—to reach for you... there is a reason you could not perform accidental magic because of that. Yet, your will and pride always reached me, and I somehow managed to connect with you to perform feats impossible. Years and years of your abuse have forged you into the man you are today, matured faster and beyond any mere child possibly should. The feelings of negativity which you frown upon, I fed and latched on it to survive, or else with only love as a weapon you would be dead by now."

Harry was about to retort, but the boy raised his hands to silence him.

"See right there?" he pointed towards Harry's back. Harry turned his heels and saw, a man in black cloak sat cross legged on the floor. "That's Death... "Harry's eyes went wide, frightened at his sight.

However he was also surprised to see, his Magic was not threatened by him at all, "But, he cannot take you unless you want him to, it's not the first time he had come for you. Your resilience to live had impressed him, so he just waits for you like that. And, he's been waiting for you ever since you were born. You've taken two killing curses, yet he still couldn't take you. You died when the killing curse gave you the scar, died for few moments when you faced Quirrell, died when the basilisk bit you, died when the Dementors were smooching you, and now you are dead again. But, he won't take you, unless you ask for him to take you."

Harry was disturbed and shuddered; he really was when he imagined the Dementor part. Also, the revelation that he had died before stunned him. His magic was bludgeoning him with words and facts that were not possible, but he couldn't even deny the possibilities that it felt right, somehow. It was true he was dead; yet, the place was not anywhere, some kind of Limbo perhaps, the man his magic called Death, still sat there watching him curiously with his red irises in pitch black eyes. A grim smile patched upon his lips, his gaunt pale face and mass of black hair so long it reached his chest. He somehow managed to look like a vampire.

"Also, you are his master." His Magic deadpanned nonchalantly.

"What?" Harry abruptly snapped.

His Magic chuckled, and explained "Yes, Master, now that you own Deathly Hollows, certainly you are his master. He cannot claim you, unless you willingly offer him your soul or those artifacts."

Harry was startled at this discovery, and merely whispered fearing that he might look stupid saying it, however, his Gryffindor nature came into play as he asked, "You mean like selling my soul to a demon?"

His Magic laughed jubilantly, amused by that question itself and replied, "Not necessarily, he is not a demon. You are unwilling to hold that power of Deathly Hollows which is why he curiously waits to see what you would do with them, if you claim ownership over the three artefacts; you will take his place as Death. You will become your own Master. You cannot die, you'll be an immortal. But, I know you do not wish for that. So, he usually sits there, watching over you. Over your stupidity and idiocy as Gryffindor amuses him."

"What about you Slytherin?" he asked, little annoyed at his jabs on own personality, and his house.

His Magic countered, ecstatic, as he out stretched hands he justified whilst mocking, "I am you, or rather those bundle of emotions you have shoved deep down into the abyss of ignorance. When you were having your soul enlightening conversation with Dumb'fucking'dore," Harry grunted in annoyance once again, "I consumed the corpse of Riddle's soul,"

Harry's eyes widen venerated, his Magic realizing what he said and explained, "Consumed means I drained his soul not his flesh you idiot. I have his memories, his knowledge, but I didn't like his magic, it will turn you insane so I disposed those and created this place. This pitch black place is his power, or whatever left of it. Once you accept me, wholly, this place will wither into nothingness."

"How can I trust you?" asked a sarcastic Harry, with his eyes narrowed at His Magic.

His magic laughed sardonically, "You really are a Gryffindor idiot." Harry grunted once again, "I am you, Harry, even with his memories and knowledge, he cannot claim you anymore. The horcrux is destroyed now it's only you, I am you. Can't you accept your emotions, and become human, or do you still want to be a martyr for the Greater Good?"

His Magic chuckled, but a forlorn face clouded him, he continued, "The Greater Good ended with Dumbledore, he wished for you to carry it on your shoulder, to welcome another victim like you under your wing if a situation like this arises, and truthfully, human nature is repeated throughout history. They are somewhat predictable if you ask me or you. Tell me, Harry, haven't you ever thought this?"

Seeing him nod, His Magic added, "Then that proves I am you, and not Voldemort."

"You didn't explain how I am in their league in terms of power." It came as a demand.

His Magic looked up to the blackness, and validated his reasoning, "Ah, that... you see, considering Voldemort's knowledge on this I can tell you. When children are born, their magic are guarded by few charms that last till they reach their age to go to school, in order to control it. Some magical children go through multiple magic restrain ritual if they are that powerful, historically, only Tom Riddle had been restrained many times along with few others whose names are not necessary as they are dead." He deadpanned the last words,

"But, you, Harry, your magic was unstable. Your bouts of accidental magic frightened your parents as you began displaying those when you were about seven months. And, not just tiny—minuscule, it was massive; you threw Sirius off his feet because he was annoying you and no ordinary toddler perform those feats..." He paused, as if remembering something, "...not just feet, he dangled in air for few hours as your mother began the ritual to restrain it. And, most importantly, your mother's ritual magic that apparently saved you from the Killing curse, had locked massive amount of your magic preventing you to perform accidental magic anymore. But, you did, the surge of emotions always reached it, and you did perform many more. And, it was Dumbledore, who came to rescue and put restraints on you then obliviated your memories of his presence. Till you reached Hogwarts it had been locked about four times before Hogwarts, while in school about three or more had been put on you after all your temporary deaths. Your magic was safely secured with your rage induced consciousness that is I, who come to existence."

When he finished he sighed, while Harry still looked confused, "Magic is generally wraith like mists or fogs, a ball of bright light or a mass of darkness that exists in a magical person. No magic, can take a sentient form Harry, the fact that I developed a body, consciousness and memories is proof that your magic, that is I, am power. And, it is your intent and your command over your will that had made me such. As of now, the final killing curse removed all restraint that you held, as now since you have reached your magical maturity, this killing curse had unbound me, Harry. No restraints will be done now, it's your will that will control your powers, no rituals or charms, I'm bound to you, Harry, and only you can fully control. Do you understand me now?"

Harry had his eyes closed, considering the words—trying to find if there were any tricks or things, but he found none. He had no reason to fear, his magic belonged to him, and only he had mastery over his intent, and will. This massive surge of power he could feel radiating from the sentient being of himself was warm and welcoming. It somehow felt right, it wasn't diabolic or sinister, and it reeked or sensed of himself not of Voldemort's, he realized there was no reason to fear anymore. Now, since the fear belonged to him now.

"What do you call yourself, Magic?" he asked. His Magic raised an eyebrow, he continued, "If you have your own consciousness, then you are as much human as me, then I could be your friend, and you shall be mine."

His magic chuckled, which converted into full blown laughter, as he walked towards Harry and hugged him tightly as he had met a long lost brother. His speech assuring, "Accept change Harry, for better or worse, consider choices and act accordingly from now onwards, as of now, you command me. Call me, Ares."

The surge of power that flowed through him was massive, and too overwhelming. And, suddenly there was wind. It flew everywhere around him, pulling him—shoving him, but he stood his ground his will power had planted his feet on the black floor which he saw was vaporising in droplets. As if it was raining, however instead of going down, it reached upward, and flew towards oblivion. The wind seized, and there were mixture of elemental powers touched him, from boiling heat to chilling cold, yet he felt only a prickle of them. It stung like a bee, but didn't do much damage.
As everything came to end, he was only met with silence, the only company he had was Death. Who still sat cross legged, watching him curiously?

"I see you haven't left, Reaper." Harry stated with new found confidence, he was sure he lacked before.

"Do you want me to, master?" his voice was baritone deep, menacing and sinister. Death grinned, and it was no pleasing sight. His ear-to-ear grin sent chills down his spine, and he actually felt that.

"I am no one's master." His confidence didn't waver a bit, as he strolled towards death that was standing on his feet, or rather floating in mid-air. He was massively tall, about a foot and half or so that Harry. Harry craned his neck in-order to see the man's haunting appearance.

"Sure, you are. You control the God of War, the epitome of power and wrath, you are his master." He mocked noted, still grinning.

"God of War?" confused by the notion.

"Yes... your, 'magic'" he made quotation mark as he said magic, his fingers rotten, and fingers long and bony. "Cleverly, he named himself Ares. The Greek God of War, Son of Zeus and Hera. Clearly, you aren't that stupid to not know your mythology. I am surprised master; a sentient being so powerful willingly became your slave."

"I am no one's slave, Tępęs'" Harry growled, and grimaced. He was surprised it was not him but rather Ares who spoke through his tongue. But, astoundingly, he saw death grimace as well, then he realized Tępęs was his name.

"Do not; call me that, Ares, I have been long since forgotten by that name." He warned as his grin was upside down into a scowl. "Then do not call him slave, Tępęs. He is my magic, a companion since I've been born, he had helped me when no one could, I've survived because of magic, and dare I suggest such vile word to describe it!" Harry exclaimed, naturally, his magic flared violently.

Tępęs' eyes narrowed, but then an amuse smirk graced his ghostly face, then soon, a full fledge grin he developed in mirth, "I see, master, I apologize, I was not aware of such sentiments, never were. You must know, and understand, Death must always be neutral at all cost, and after all we're no mere mortals. By the time you become Death; you must have lost all of humanity, and become a vessel of apathy."

"I have no such intention to become someone like you!" Harry snarled. He truly had no intention to become a monster like death. The man- monster was still grinning mirthfully to his content.

"Sure you don't, you haven't seen them all, when you will. Just remember, Master, I shall be waiting." Tępęs drawled as he winked and disappeared with a swirl of black mass.

Meanwhile, at Hogwarts Everything was in ruins, the statues had fallen, the dust and dirt bellowed with the wind that. The cry of fellow students rung throughout the school over a single body that Hagrid held on his arms, his crestfallen face disheartened the Headmistress, it pained almost everyone to see a carefree giant to be this depress.

Yet she couldn't blame him, she was going through the same emotion as everyone, lost and helpless. The boy had made great impact on almost everyone; he could've been the next Dumbledore, a beacon of Light, guiding the Magical world with his experiences, his wisdoms and advice. But, he too fell before the tyrant, along with their leader, their headmaster.

But, he was young. It was definitely not fair for him to die.

Neville limped before Voldemort and his followers. He heard their cries for their fallen comrade, and mock laughter of the death eaters. Had Neville was as attached to him as Ron or even Hermione he could've understood whatever loss they were going through. Even though, he felt a sort of emotion of loss, Harry was brother in all but blood, hurt him too, but he didn't know to what extent it hurt. The boy behind his well developed confidence, and power was Harry. He was there when no one was, as his cries never reached anyone but him. Harry had helped him to become a better man than his own grandmother ever could. And, for that he was forever indebted to him. The Longbottoms were the wands for the Potters which he could gladly follow through. He was looking forward to a future where he was best friends with Harry, he had already decided he would be his best man for his marriage, God father to his children, and he hopefully wished he could be the same for him. But, he already knew that place already belonged to someone else.

His eyes followed to his right and saw the harrowing cries Hermione and Ron looking pale and haggard. He had firmly grasped his emotional girlfriend by her shoulder, and looking at him with a furious gaze.

Neville heard the keening cries of Ginny Weasley like she was widowed, he didn't understand why. Harry and she were never that close or comfortable to begin with. He was aware she fancied him, but he never knew and understood it could be returned. Of course she could be crying for her brother too, but everyone had lost someone or somebody it was war after all.

He was frustrated, and angry that he couldn't save him. Also, he was furious that he couldn't hurt the man and his companion who were laughing manically at them. "How does it feel to antagonize a bunch of school kids?" he spoke softly, as if to himself.

The laughter became voiceless, as Voldemort's sneer reached his face. "What did you say, boy?"

"I said! How does it feel to antagonize lot of school kids?!" he screamed at the top of his lungs at him. The death eaters' eyes widen at his sudden outburst. The mask less faces, some grimaced, some glared and sneered mockingly at him.

A smirk appeared on Voldemort's face as he asked, "And what is your name boy?"
"It's Neville Longbottom, asswipe!" he growled venomously.

Bellatrix raised her wand to crucio his sorry ass, but was interrupted when her master grabbed her wand and shook his head. "I see, Neville Longbottom Asswipe," Bellatrix giggled like a school girl, pleased at her master's sharp tongue. The school kids, who laughed at him for being mocked, grimaced as he literally shredded the insult back at Neville who still stood before them expressionless.

"Your bravery is... commendable," he drawled, "Must be a Gryffindor, your tongue reminds me of Potter there." He pointed his wand at Hagrid who still held the lifeless body Harry. "His Gryffindor tendency caught up to him and bit him in his own arse, my killing curse split his very soul apart right before my eyes."

Hearing him speaking so casually about his comrade, fuelled his anger some more. Hermione's cries became louder; it was heart breaking for him to hear such strong willed girl finally breaking down. Yet, Neville remained stoic, feeding his anger to go ballistic at the right movement. Voldemort was already aware of their mind, as he mocked again, his attention fell upon Minerva, the head of house, "Minerva, you must be so proud; a child no more than sixteen faced the Dark Lord, and died an honourable death for the Greater Good! He was a true Gryffindor indeed."

Minerva's eyes watered, at the jab. She felt repulsed, insulted and utterly broken. She had failed her student. The war was not supposed to be fought by school children. "Harry was a lot better as a person you could ever be, you snakeface bastard!" It was only Neville's voice that stood his ground before the many followers'.

"Pity, he didn't realize that my dear Neville, but, alas he's dead. So, what are you going to do? Longbottom Asswipe?" he taunted.

"I will avenge him! AVADA KADAVRA!" Neville's scream shattered the crying river trance. Their eyes widen in horror, watching him cast a perfect unforgivable towards the Dark Lord. Voldemort casually summoned one of the death eaters before him who fell dead before Voldemort; Neville's focus wavered, as his hatred was on Voldemort and not on some other. As his focus subsided, the man was already soul less. His eyes were wide with realization, that he had killed a man... with the killing curse... this was supposed to be for Voldemort! Not anyone!

"Although I'm surprised your anger had finally allowed you to cast the curse, however, you must be a fool to think I could die." His confession was met with several intakes of sharp breaths. But, bravely and surprisingly it was Hermione who stepped forward, she bellowed, Voldemort was surprised seeing his familiar flew past him at speed he couldn't think of, "Accio Nagini!"

"NAGINI" he roared with rage.

As the snake was mid-way, he missed the sword Neville held which swung upward slicing his snake in half. The ear piercing scream had everyone cover their years and a mass of black mist exploded from the snake. Voldemort's eyes were still wide, his final horcrux was gone!

"We knew about your path to immortality, Voldemort!" Hermione's shout broke everyone out of their surprised trance.

"You dare speak, his name, Mudblood!" Bellatrix snarled and sent a barrage of cutting curses, which Hermione parried away, and countered with few. And, their duel began.

"Hermione!" Ron's shout didn't distract Hermione's focus as she fought the woman who carved the disparaging word on her arm. Her tear stricken face still rolled down her cheek, losing her best friend was too much for her. He was an anchor to her sanity, to their friendship, dare she say, she was involved with Ron is because of him. Without him, she didn't know if she could last a day in their argument. Few curses cut through her clothes as blood curled down her legs. She ignored the pain, and began casting many bone breaking, lung puncturing and heart shattering curses which were borderline dark.

Bellatrix' intense glare didn't bother her, as she furiously countered and dodged spells. Ron silently backed away, not to get involved as one mistake and he'll be dropped to the floor. Unlike every day, Bellatrix was not cackling, or enjoying her battles, she was ready to kill now.

And, so did Hermione.

"Avada Kadavra!" both yelled in unison, Bellatrix's eyes widen as she saw a green beam of energy met with her own. Hermione lacked the intent, for which her focus wavered, and her curse faded away. "Accio Hermione!" yelled a frantic Neville; the girl flew out of the path, and he caught her from toppling over him. The curse narrowly missed her along with Ron who had jumped out of the way.

"Mudblood who—" Voldemort held Bellatrix wand arm, and shook his head. Her gaze lowered, yet the bloodlust never left her eyes. "What were you thinking Hermione?" Neville pleaded, he knew what would happen if these corrupt Government was aware of a Muggle born using unforgivable. She was definitely in trouble just for casting the spell. As a pure blood he could get away from that. But, he doubt Hermione could now that most people will see her as next dark lady.

"It's war Neville! It's been so long this man has terrorized in the name of Dark hiding behind his bigoted bootlickers! We play by the rules, and look where it has taken us?! He killed him! I am not supposed to stand by and watch her and the bastard insult Harry! If to kill them, I have to sacrifice my soul I would do it! I would do for a thousand times! For Harry!" her indignant tears again fell down her cheeks as she quickly cleaned them away from her eyes.

"How touching..." Voldemort's drawl snapped their attention at him. "See, Bellatrix? The young mudblood loves Potter so much, she would sacrifice her soul."

Hermione's eyes narrowed at his bait, "Now, all your soul fragments are destroyed it isn't long you will face defeat, you will die Voldemort!" her tone laced with venom, that sent shivers down Ron's spine. He never knew this side of Hermione; it was like watching a birth of a Dark Lady. "Defeat? Die?" Voldemort's laugh rung throughout the school, "There's a reason your professors are avoiding to fight with me,"

Hermione's snapped back and saw the look of pure resignation on their faces, anger swirled within her. "So fucking what!?" she exclaimed. Ron had never heard her use language, and frankly she didn't care anymore. She will avenge Harry, the boy who had helped and saved her countless times, without asking anything in return. Unlike Ron, who remained to use her for homework purposes, Harry had never done it so. For which she was rather amazed, he definitely was a true friend. A friend who died because this society is so incompetent, that it put its entire burden on his shoulder.

"So, well, since you are a mudblood, I cannot really fathom your lack of knowledge in history...or about me," He paused, and exclaimed, "I am Voldemort! I am that nightmare this society fears and fears for a reason!"

Hermione's knees buckled, so did Neville's as raw energy of magic forced them to almost drop on their knees. Their eyes widen, as Voldemort exhibited his magic in form of aura, it was menacing, sinister and pure vicious, they slowly backed away from where they stood. Goosebumps were felt by almost everyone as he announced his name.

Shiver ran down Minerva's spine, as she stepped back because of the force. Her eyes fell upon the clear sky which was reddening and she really sensed the malevolent energy that was excluding from the evil bastard. He stood up to his name, there was a reason the society feared and hailed him as the most sinister Dark Lord ever existed. And, to understand he was far younger than Grindlewald, proves that he was only getting stronger with each year. She knew the level set by Dumbledore in phrase of raw power; she never really knew Voldemort could ever reach that level.

But, what she was seeing, she was absolutely frightened. The blood red sky is what people see in nightmare, Voldemort's exertion of his raw energy, made it difficult for both Hermione and Neville to breathe, as they were near him. Voldemort's crimson red eye which were closed, now opened and sneered at Hermione, "Tell me, Mudblood, what are you going to do, now that both leader of Light and the child of prophecy are dead, and one of his dead body is right there?"

Hermione had no smart retort, as she trembled realizing the lack of judgement she had done to the demon before her. Her eyes trailed towards Hagrid, when she missed Voldemort's rage filled yell, "Vercundus!"

"NO!" she screamed, as she saw the body of Hagrid thrown back towards the great walls nearby of Hogwarts. His giant bones were crushed along with the walls of Hogwarts which cracked behind his heavy body.

The over powered bludgeoning curse, had disposed him about fifteen feet in the air, his skull first met with the walls, and he fell unconscious. Harry's body soared lifelessly from his arms and smashed unto the ground with a loud thud, "Fools!" the demonic baritone voice of Voldemort had everyone's attention, "Do you realize who I am?!"

His wand pointed at Harry's body, his anger visible as he sneered, "This child was no mere wizard; he had potential! But, it was you who held him back! It was your leader of Light who made him weak! Dumbledore wanted a normal teenager to fight me, not a wizard! Imbeciles! It was you who killed him, by forging him to hinder my path to greatness!"

He paused, eyes narrowing at Hermione, as silently he sauntered towards Harry, "Tell me, mudblood, what you would do with the lifeless corpse of this orphan? Cremate? Or are you going to bury him six feet under?" he taunted, "Tell me, what would you do, if I deny you lot that opportunity."

"No! No! No! Please, don't do it! Please I beg you!" pleaded a hysterical Hermione broke their heart. She dashed towards Harry, not bothered about the fact Voldemort stood over him with his wand trained on him. She knelt before him, and lifted his head placing them on her lap as she cradled him.

"Tell me, mudblood, do you love him?" his question had no curiosity at all, it sounded like a statement. Hermione's sob was the only answer he got.
He shook his head, and silently cast a cutting curse at the body. None of them were aware the body was a replica, but Bellatrix's control over transfiguration strangely allowed the innards to develop as well. The curse cut through the replica, and blood sprayed on Hermione, the body was shredded to multiple pieces. And, Hermione was traumatized.

She stared at her hand which held the beheaded head of her best friend. She should've gone with him to the forest! She should've been by his side fighting! She should've died, not him! It was not fair!

The cries went silent, no one dared to even breathe, as they saw Harry's body tattered and blood on Hermione, her bushy hair was dripping with crimson liquid. No one dared to move, and Voldemort had set his example. Ron was at loss of words, by far every death he had seen, this was far gruesome than anything. His best mate died, and yet he stood there motionless, unable to even raise his wand at the man who was still in control over their nightmares.

Neville's piercing scream of rage didn't even faze him, they were too shocked. "Avada Kadavra!" He blindly bellowed, not caring who he would hit. But, the curse flew towards Voldemort, who summoned a nearby boulder to cover him from the green beam of soul magic. The snake faced, crimson eyed, man gritted his teeth, and snarled "This bravery ends now!"

He began a barrage of curses, hexes which were thoroughly dark. His wide range of knowledge allowed him to unleash anything without any repercussion. Neville, who was just a school kid with little to no experience of knowledge, could only move out of them. He was not aware that a Protego could prevent some of those spells, so he was moving and dodging while casting various wide ranges of offensive curses.

"FULMINIS!" a jet of vicious lightning burst out of Voldemort's wand, and struck Longbottom's shield which shattered on impact. He was thrown backwards, grunting in agony he didn't even saw the Cruciatus curse.

The death eaters could only stare, as the child of Longbottoms parried, struggled against their Lord until an unknown spell had battered the boy off his feet. They knew he doesn't stand a chance against a monster like him, but they enjoyed the battle... with glee Bellatrix watched her Master put the boy on his place, as a Cruciatus curse finally caught the boy.

Neville writhed in agony, screaming his lungs out. The seizures over whelmed as his eyes rolled back behind his eyes. No thoughts occurred to him; no remembrance invaded his mind, only pain existed in his veins, in his blood, in his organs—his brain was usurping agony far worse. No one knew for how many seconds the curse was on him.

"You shall meet your parents on Mungo, ickle Longbottom!" cackled Bellatrix madly.

Everyone cringed, as the cries of Neville reached their ears, but they were unable to do anything. Voldemort was too powerful, they were greatly surpassed. Voldemort removed, his curse from the boy,

Neville was curled up in a ball, still crying and shivering in agony. "Bellatrix, please do the honour for me?" he smiled evilly; the woman bowed and aimed her wand at the Longbottom child.

"Crucio!" she exclaimed, and the pain began. She kept it up for over ten seconds. Neville's agonizing scream echoed throughout the school. Hermione dejected, and traumatized brain was unable to respond to anything at all. She was utterly lost.

"This ends, NOW!" roared Voldemort, Bellatrix ended her curse, as he lifted the Elder Wand over his hand, and sliced it towards Neville, "Sectumsempra!"

The cutting curse soared in a sliced pattern. Every single person on Hogwarts closed their eyes, accepting their fate, accepting their death, accepting the fact they stood no chance anymore.

They will die.

But, no more a second a thunderous crack was heard.

---

Harry Potter miraculously opened his eyes in the middle of forest. Groaning, as pain crept through his head. The scar that was horcrux, had bled freely while he was dead. He slowly got back to his feet, grunting as pins and needles made their presence known to him. It was hurting everywhere, as if he had been under Cruciatus for over a minute.

He heard whispers, which snapped his attention and he suddenly became alert to his surroundings. The stillness of forest soothed his nerves, but he was still wary. The last time he was hear, he was struck with the killing curse.

"Concentrate," a whisper, he took few breaths and paid more attention to it.

"Can you hear me, Harry?" it was Ares; his voice was a baritone old voice that reached him, he was heard clearly. He realized it was much like talking to himself in his head. Unlike Death, whose voice was sinister, this was pleasant, soothing even.

"Y—yes," he told,

"Good, can you stand?" Ares wondered, no trace of concern.

Harry nodded, as he got back on his feet. He realized few things were odd. His trouser felt shorter, along with his shoes which constipated his feet. He removed them and stood barefoot on the grass. He removed his jacket, and observed any changes, and felt his limbs were slightly longer than before. He was always lean but now he felt muscles everywhere.

"Have I grown?" he asked out loud,

Ares' laughter floated in his head, "I have healed all the years of abuse you have undergone through, apart from the venom that flows in your vein. Your malnourishment on the other hand, had some effect. You are at-most two to three inches taller than before, and you're no more skin and bones. You could be tall as I was, but that would be unnecessary."

"Tall as you?" he wondered,

"A story for another time, Harry, now you must close your eyes, and concentrate on your vision," he ordered.

Harry did so, a wave of energy burst through him that he definitely felt. It was warm, and comforting. He could sense the trees, the rocks and everything within a particular distant. There was not a single life, as he pondered more, he reached towards Hogwarts and felt many presence right there.

A wave of emotions overwhelmed his senses; it ranged from fear, to hopelessness. He identified almost everyone there, and most importantly he identified Voldemort's presence, his presence outstripped everyone. He tried to search for his friend's presence but his senses were clouded by sheer malevolence. He shivered, and opened his eyes and saw the blood red sky, whose crimson clouds had engulfed the place in whole.

It was Voldemort's might that had brought the magical world to its knees.

He closed his eyes again, and reached out for Hogwarts, it went faster than before. He could sense every barrage of spell that came from wands, his senses jarred and he snapped his eyes open and grimaced.

"Are you ready, Harry?" Ares' demanded, "Do you have what it takes to take his life?"

"It's war, Ares," he countered but his thoughts were laced with hesitation. He heard Ares' laughter ringing through his very core. It was boiling, and he could feel the magic consuming everywhere, reaching out to his nerves and senses. A sinister power engulfed him, it was anger, but it was vastly unlike Voldemort's malevolence, pure evil.

"I am the God of War! Surprise me, Harry! Surprise me!" Ares exclaimed, and laughed with manic jest, as he was surged with new found energy and power.

His wand tightly clutched in his hand, Harry Potter apparated with a thunderous crack!

Harry Potter, the saviour, the Chosen One, The Boy-Who-Lived, appeared before a writhing Neville. A blue beam of energy was impending upon him; his wand hand swatted the curse towards his right with a snarl. He deflected the curse towards the audience of death eaters. Bodies fell like fruits from a tree, as screams of agony rung throughout the school.

The death eaters died instantly, when they were cut in half. Those who were alive were stunned at his arrival. The boy stood over the squirming Neville protectively, his head lowered, eyes closed—senses flared.

"Neville will live, focus on Voldemort," Ares' presence really did make a difference to him, as his senses studied the demonic presence before him. The man's absolute malevolent aura was kindred demonic soul, the comparison was striking. Voldemort's eyes were wide. It was not possible! The boy was dead! How is he here! Bellatrix check him herself! Bellatrix flabbergasted face spoke the truth, she was alarmed seeing the boy her Master had killed.

As soon as he arrived, the first person to notice him was Katie Bell, who exclaimed with a sharp breath, "Harry..."

Everyone's eyes followed her line of vision, and found the boy standing protectively before Neville's fallen form. The raw power was felt by every student standing there as audience. The professors muttered impossible, he was blasted to smithereens just few moments ago, how is he alive?

Hearing the name of his best-friend, Ron found himself staring at his first friend with astonishment, and lost his voice in shock.

Hermione sharply turned and found him standing before Neville, the brave boy who suffered just trying to avenge his friend. His blood was still on her, and she realized it didn't reek or anything—it didn't feel like human at all. Realization, dawned on her, this was fake. Harry was alive! Right before her eyes! He was fucking alive!

"How... how are you alive, Potter?" Voldemort's voice wavered, the Elder Wand clutched tightly on his hands, "I had you killed with the Killing Curse! You were dead! You are supposed to be dead!"

His hysterical lament, were not answered, Harry still had his head low, the demon before him could not see his eyes or sense the inner battle waging in him. Harry was alive after taking the curse! Hermione's wide-eyes stared amazed at her friend. She knew he was stubborn, but surviving the curse once again naturally surprised her. He was there in flesh and blood, he looked healthy too. Then her eyes fell on his face, his scar had bled, which covered most of his face. His blood covered faced had her feel goose bumps.

"Do you want to test your powers, Harry?" Ares gloated in his head. "Mock him! Let him destroy you! Test his powers and you shall see yours. Unleash hell!"

"Say, Ares, can I regenerate my limbs if I lose them?" his connection made it possible for him to speak with his magic without opening his mouth. The only response he got was laughter.

"I survived," Harry announced, still not looking at anyone. His was his gentle voice, Hermione was sure, it was him!

Voldemort was fuming, glaring daggers at the boy who yet again, survived death. He summoned more of his reserve, and there was a massive heave of evil aura spread all around the place. The Dark Lord's mighty and unbound magic flared to the sky, and suddenly there were few red lightnings bellowing the school with his wrath as wordless lightning element spells flicked everywhere. Students huddled back inside the school screaming, the crowd stumbled, fell and got back up and sauntered hurriedly back not wishing for a thunder to strike on them.

Ron went back to his parents, not wanting to leave them alone. His eyes found Hermione, who had apparently forgotten where she was, and who she was with. Her eyes glazed with unshed tears as she looked at Harry with new found appreciation.

"I hope you're alright, Hermione," he whispered much to himself.

Harry casually summoned Hermione, without uttering a word. She felt a tug, and floated towards Harry, her heart rampaging in anticipation, he was alive. Just as she was out of the way, a lightning struck the place where she had wept. Her scream was silenced because of the bellowing thunder.

"Hermione, take Neville with you." She snapped her attention at Harry, and stared at his face. His left eye was kept closed; perhaps, the blood had found his way into it. She couldn't argue with him, just dumbly nodded, and levitated Neville back towards Hogwarts. Carefully, she lowered Neville's unconscious body to the floor; Madam Pomphrey sprung to action and began healing the effects of Cruciatus curse.

"Are you okay?" she vaguely heard Ron speak beside him, her eyes were still upon Harry. At his arrival, many of the death eaters had disapparated from there. So, it was only Bellatrix and Voldemort, The Malfoys had already left. Ron spoke again, tensed all of a sudden, "Hermione?"

"He's alive." Ron didn't ask anymore question, and left her side making his way back to his parents. She didn't care anymore, their friend is back from the dead, and her friend is back.

"Remember, Harry, war is fought between two sides that believe their way is the right way. There's no morals, no rules, there's only your brothers in arms, and your enemies. If your enemy doesn't shy away from using underhand tactics, and killing curses, why should you? There is no honour; there is no Light or Dark, and certainly, most important of all, fuck morality! It's war!" Ares rambled, urging Harry to let loose his hesitance to kill.

Voldemort silently studied the boy before him, something was wrong that he couldn't quite place his finger on. His thoughts derailed, when a rogue green light struck Bellatrix and she dropped dead beside him.

"That's for Sirius," Harry whispered, much to himself than anyone. He had cursed silently.

Voldemort was surprised as he stared at the corpse of her most trusted follower, rage filled his very soul. Anger seeped along with his magic, which was extremely unstable, the very ground shook fiercely. The earthquake, although didn't affect the inhabited of school, the school's magical properties was resistant to all natural disaster. Regardless, it still shook, and that is when they realized the power behind Voldemort.

It was primal, and extremely violent. Most wondered, they were against this man, who was shaking the very school foundation to its core. 'Harry is against him?'

Minerva McGonagall was aware of the presence Voldemort had, but this was a whole new level violence. To think, Dumbledore, had left a teenager to fight this monster had to make her question her own choices, and trusts? Now, she couldn't do anything to help, Harry. So, she prayed to whatever deity there was, to help the son of James, and Lily Potter to survive once again.

"It's only you and I, Voldemort." His serenity was devoid of any emotion, as Harry challenged the behemoth before him, "Neither can live while the other survives!" he spat at Voldemort.

"You want war child! I'll show you war, when you'll die hovering over your own pool of blood! Your death shall be the beacon that revenge is best served with blood!" bellowed Voldemort and began casting curses. And, it began.

Harry parried few of the overpower stunning, cutting, disembowelling, castrating, bludgeoning spells and many more, he was mostly defensive as he cast few over powered Protego Maxima, and flicked the dark curse back towards Voldemort.

Few unidentifiable volleys of spells were parried, dodged as well.

They circled each other, their spell work was blindingly fast for eyes to catch, although, it was Harry who did most of jumping, and dodging. He still stood his ground, and made an impact on their dance of death.

"Voldermort's mastery over mind arts allows him to understand and predict your movement, Harry, you need to keep moving and do not stop, although you have massive reserve in your core, you would struggle if you stay put in one place and duel with him. Do not look into his eyes." Ares provided whatever was necessary to not get hit for that movement, it was his plan to observe at what speed Voldemort worked. And, it was overwhelmingly fast.

Harry tripped as a rogue cutting curse, sliced through his calves, he grunted as pain soared through his legs. Before he could retaliate, Voldemort had non-verbally cast conjured fire at Harry. The beam met Harry, and set him ablaze within seconds. He grunted as his skin burned, hurriedly ripped the shirt off his body. He didn't have time to observe his burns, as rolled out from another barrage of bludgeoning and bone breaking curses also lung shattering hexes which he flicked it towards Bellatrix. Soon, a lightning torched Harry forcing him to crash into a wall.

Everyone watched amazed, at what Harry Potter was doing after overcoming the shock that he had killed Bellatrix. He was duelling with Voldemort, with such vigour and confidence none had ever thought of. They knew he was the best of the best at DADA, but it was whole new level of him performing against someone who was shaking their very school under his power.

Filius Flitwick stared; he was aware of Potter's charisma over the subject but watching him duel without any prior experience with Dark Lord himself, had put him on his feet. The half-goblin expected the boy to be battered and dead by now, but the boy was displaying instinct that surpassed even a master dueller.

Their heart stopped as they saw him catching a bolt of lightning straight to his chest.

Voldemort flicked his wrist and rapidly conjured various blades and guided them towards Harry; all of them hit his straightforwardly everywhere. Voldemort didn't let him have a chance, till now none of his curses had hit Voldemort, he fought through his pain, and went into offensive. A barrage of disarming spells shot from his wand, but none of them reached Voldemort. His wand movement moved so first, Voldemort had to cut back his movements to defensive as he conjured a shield before him.

"Avada Kadavra!" Harry snarled, as the green bolt of light shattered through the shield, but Voldemort had apparated out of the way. The monster countered with his own killing curse beside Harry, the boy dropped to the floor and rolled out the beam. And hurriedly Harry fired Expelliarmus, which Voldemort stopped with a shield. "Are you ready to test your healing, Harry?" Ares asked and it lacked conviction.

Voldemort was not surprised when an overpower Bludgeoning hex disposed Harry off his feet. "Ignis ruina!" followed by an overpowered elemental spell struck and the boy soared and hit the nigh indestructible wall of Hogwarts. A loud snap echoed, and then Voldemort grinned. A bone breaking curse hit Harry on his chest, and blotted him back to the wall.

A scream reverberated, it belong to Hermione, who was struggling against the whole of Gryffindor student who held her back. Ginny the self-proclaimed wife was held back by the Weasley matriarch.

The sky cleared within few moments, as Voldemort slowly strolled with his confident gait towards Harry. The boy had taken insane amount of violent curses yet he chuckled painfully, as blood dripped down his lips, he smiled and taunted, "Is that all you got?"

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, and whispered, "You wish to see my full power? Is that your last wish? Although, I'm surprised how you're still breathing."

Harry glared at Voldemort, "Yes, but if... I survive... Tom, I'll kill you... with my... bare hands!" his voice was hoarse and breath laboured, but it reached the silent hall Hogwarts who were witnessing the power struggle between a demon and a teenager.

A sardonic laugh was his only response. A look of focus appeared on Voldemort, he hissed at Harry. And hell was unleashed!

He outstretched his arms wide walking back creating an imaginary distance, the stillness that ensured warned chaos, and then he asked softly, "Any last words, Potter?"

"Yes," Harry grinned, as he opened his closed eye for the first time and instead of killing green, it was blood red. The heterochromatic burned with incinerating hate, and malice that promised pain. His statement sent chills down everyone's spine, he declared between breaths, "If I... live, I will kill... you...If I die, you are forgiven."

The monster was least bothered about the change of eye colour, assuming it must be damaged. He silently observed and noticed Harry was not wearing his glasses. Fear crawled up everyone's skin, when Voldemort levitated off his feet; power swirled all around him as he conjured every ounce of magic reserve he confined to unleash.

He let loose, the floor beneath him cracked and shattered with sheer mass presence of his magic. The crater beneath him, and the breaking of the boulders and stones brought the spectators to their knees. The children were huddled together, with their professors as they witnesses the monster the world knew as Lord Voldemort. The Order of the Pheonix were definitely worried now, their communication link was destroyed when they were busy fighting the death eaters. They could not contact the Aurors. They couldn't fathom, someone to beat the man one-on-one, if there was a battalions then surely some damage could be done.

"Damn you old man," Mr. Wheasley muttered under his breath. The fact that their Leader of Light hid the fact this man was no mere wizard but a powerhouse, they could've planned something else. But, to throw a teenager before him was certainly a big mistake. There was no hope that Harry would live.

"Potter, over the course of my limitless research, I somehow managed to master mind magic, can you fathom what abilities it awarded me?" Voldemort's voice was loud, "I do not need this wand to crush you! I do not need this wand to turn your insides out!"

"Good, it belongs to me now," Harry taunted, "The last owner of this wand was that twat Malfoy, and I disarmed him. So, it belongs to me."

Voldemort bellowed, apparently Snape had lied, betrayed him about that fact. Regrettably, he could not kill him once again, but he would kill this insolent brat.

He conjured multiple sharp metals that twinkled in promise of flesh wound, death and worse bereavement. He transfigured many of them to various knives and bludgeoning iron balls, all of those were circling him as if he was the eye of the storm. The earth shook, as more and more he conjured, and transfigured.

"Die!" he roared, and sent volleys of those object in promise to make Harry suffer.

Harry hurriedly created a shield, it was powerful but the substantial barrage of bludgeoning metals crashed through it and broke him out of focus.
Apparating out of the way, he countered with an over powered Reducto, the explosive spell clashed with a wall which the monster has conjured. But, Harry's spell passed easily the wall exploded in dusts and pieces. He quickly cast Diffindo followed by a body binding spell to hold Voldemort, it was foolish he was completely aware of it. Since, Voldemort confessed he was using his mind arts rather than magic, body binding spell will have no effect on him. However, he hoped he could surprise the monster anyhow. Unfortunately, the spell didn't even reach the grinning madman.

"Fool! Do you honestly believe your petty elementary spell will reach me?!" Completely ignoring the fact Harry was back on his feet after taking a bone breaking curse near point blank range and not to forget the elemental spells. Fortunately, no one dared to have any thoughts as well. As they were too engorged witnessing the battle between, David and the Goliath.

"Yeah," Harry snidely remarked.

Voldemort was getting angrier, and he put more pressure on his magic. The school began shaking while the student began screaming. The adult shielded them with whatever necessary shielding spells they knew of, over everyone.

While Harry kept his dodging and counter the man's energy blasts, conjured weapons and boulders, Voldemort out of nowhere summoned Bellatrix's wand and pointed at the huge doorway of Hogwarts. And, Harry was too occupied to notice Voldemort's snitch.

Seeing him point his wand towards them, the children were too frightened to move, the professors circled them possessively, and this was their end. If they die, they'll die together anyway.

"Fiendfyre," Voldemort muttered under his breath, without even glancing towards the school. The ethereal flame burst from the tip of his wand. The flame took shape of a giant Cerberus, its three demonic head roared and from its mouth a giant basilisk slithered rapidly, it grew in size significantly as tall as Hogwarts stood and glided towards the school.

Everyone closed their eyes, apart from Hermoine who watched baffled at the ethereal form flame. As scream echoed, she vaguely heard some sort of detonating sound. And, lo' Harry suddenly appeared before the giant door arms outstretched. His presence snapped her attention from her trancelike stare from the flame towards his shirtless charred back and hands, smoke was making appearance from his cheeks, the elemental spells had done as significant damage to his skin, but blood was missing. Harry silently conjured a massive protective that engulfed the lot of school. As apart from Hermoine and a single Ravenclaw no one bore witness to the flare of magic.

The ethereal infernal blaze reached, and surrounded Harry—coiling. Seeing her friend engulfed in Fiendfyre, Hermoine Granger and Luna Lovegood bellowed out his name.

McGonagall opened her closed her eyes and stared wide-eyed as the flame was particularly twisting at a single point before the doors. Potter was in the line of fire, she realized the conjured shield that was protecting them, and wondered who had cast it before them. Most importantly, how had the fire hadn't reached them she had no idea. But, she could vaguely guess it has something to do with Mr. Potter.

Voldemort was flicking his wrists after casting Fiendfyre at the school least bothered about the people there. He was making pattern with his hands as he imagined his attacks and explosions to be at the boy-who-lived, who was taking a lot of damage. He was wondering how he was even on his feet after taking this much oppression. Why was his spirit not wavering? Why does he insist keeping on going?

Voldemort's eyes widen in sudden realization as he wondered, 'Could it be, the boy's magic has been unbound? How is it possible? To unbound one must perform a magic ritual, or...' He stared surprised at Harry taking one of energy blast, and he vanished with a sudden boom. The monster couldn't sense any magical gist of apparition at all besides no one can achieve apparition at that speed, he inhaled a sharp breath, '...One must die...'

The ethereal fire, kept ablaze for more than twenty seconds at full force, the mighty height and heat was slowly dimming. Rage, blinding rage orbited within Harry's mind, as he felt the heat of the ethereal flame. Ares was laughing manically and encouraged his vessel, as Harry invoked every ounce of hate he could muster against the Dark Lord. He opened his mouth, and puckered his lips, and inhaled the bright blaze of fury—slowly. The heat was too overwhelming, but for reasons unknown he was yet to be touched. Unhurriedly, the flame was getting smaller and smaller. Surprised the fire still had not burned the Hogwarts castle to rubbles the pupil opened their respecting eyes, and stares astonishingly at the diffusing swarm of Fiendfyre.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" exclaimed a squeaky voice of the diminutive Ravenclaw head of the house standing before the kids protectively.

"Sweet Morgana's saggy tits!" cried Ron.

"What in the name Merlin's flaccid dick is this!?" Seamus squeaked. Every surprised holler almost rhymed.

"Fuck me sideways and call me Rosey, this is impossible." Dean Thomas was completely awestricken.

Not only him, collective exclamations of same demeanour rung throughout the Great Halls. McGonagall was too affronted to confront about the language as she stared the lone figure standing before them with arms outstretched. As Harry's shirtless back was facing them they could only attest the flame was being sucked or rather inhaled by Harry.

"What sorcery is this!?" Molly screeched at the top of her lungs. The boy inhaled the Fiendfyre like it was oxygen. Apart from her, everyone was amazed at Harry's surprising turn of event.

The-Boy-Who-Lived possibly earned everyone's life debts unknowingly.

Voldemort witnessed gobsmacked at Harry Potter, the one who has the power to vanquish. If he ever had nightmares, he was assured he will view Harry. No one had tamed a Fiendfyre, but Harry Potter was no ordinary wizard, he ate it. He exhaled finally anti-climatically, as no burp of smoke or fire escaped his mouth. Chuckling, he glared at Voldemort who was looking at him fearfully. Not only him, but everyone in the castle was backing away from in certain fear, only handful of people stared awed at the unorthodox display of taming or consuming.

He stood tall, exuding confidence and pride no one had seen before. His best-friends noticed he had gained few inches in height; his back was broad—hair longer still messier. He looked different.

"Tom!" He bellowed, the kids yelled at his voice—no more was his timid voice, but it held power and promise of pain. Surprised to hear an unknown name, no one batted an eye other than the professors who were looking at him incredulously, he added with a grin, "Surprised!?"

Voldemort perfectly heard his name and snarled, there was a blur as Harry choked stormed as he was caught off-guard. The monster had his hands forward as if holding an end of a rope and Potter was bound to it.

The boy grunted as something invisible tightened its hold on him, shattering his bones underneath his skin and flesh. Harry was lifted off his feet, many yelped in surprise as he was thrown up. Hermoine called out to him, her arms outstretch to catch him but he was pulled by something.

Voldemort began swinging his arms wildly albeit comically, but no one dared to laugh as they saw Harry Potter getting slammed and squashed to the nigh indestructible walls of Hogwarts.

Voldemort snapped, and violently swung to his left, the force sent Harry into the wall, completely obliterating the walls as he was flung out of boundary. The monster repeated the same move yelling obscenities which no one dared to point out. "Fucking Potter! Why won't you fucking die?!" Every frustrated word uttered, the monster slammed Harry into the walls shattering the bricks of iron under Harry are flailing body. But, the boy had yet to scream in agony, "I fucking told you, your body will hover over your own pool of blood! You will!"

The monster kept the assault for as long as he could keep up, for about fifteen or so minutes went by. He swung his arms over his hands, and the apparent floating body of Potter was swinging along, he threw it towards Hogwarts door or rather above. The child of prophecy met the wall which shattered behind him, as his back bone broke along with the stone walls. Quickly, Voldemort quickly conjured three sharp metal, one of them sized prominent than two. He sent it hurriedly at the boy before he fell off. Two iron bars pierced through his outstretched arms into the walls. His skull smashed behind with the momentum and bled profusely.

Everyone hurried outside to see the battle between the two enigmas, one was a powerhouse, and another who mysteriously inhaled a Fiendfyre, they wanted to see what Harry could do. But, as they got outside they witnessed him breaking through the hard walls of Hogwarts. Seeing Voldemort hurling him everywhere with some kind of body binding spell they could only hope the boy would be alive. This was no magic unlike Fiendfyre, no one can tame physical beat down.

Ron cried out when he saw Harry's outstretched arms being impaled by two iron rods, and the final larger bludgeoning iron puncturing his chest. They could hear the metal clashing unto the wall, and the shattering of bones inside Harry. They boy painfully gurgled some unintelligent words, heads dropping downwards. Students in company of their professors stared horrified at the sight before them, some screams cried out, some gasped traumatized.

He was presented as if crucified, arms outstretched impaled with an iron rod. Blood dripped down the iron from his chest and pooled underneath his suspended body.

"AVADA..." began Voldemort clenching Bellatrix's wand tightly.

"No!" cried out McGonagall.

"Please, no!" Hermoine pleaded hyperventilating.

"Expelliarmus!" cried out Flitwick along with McGonagall at Voldemort in hopes to strike the man, but a shield wordlessly formed before Voldemort, it wasn't just a shield, an ambient dome encircled him widely. Shacklebot attempted to cast, but was too weak to utter a single word. All of the Weasleys sent a volley of disarming spells at the monster before them.

"Diffindo!" "Incendio!" "Sectumsepra!" "Arcus!" "Bombarda!" "Confringo!"and many more spells and curses came about him, as if they had broke out their fearful reverie, and began fighting back in hopes to save their friend. Many doubted they could break through the shield, unforgivable aside; they didn't dare to use them.

"Crucio!" a lone unforgivable broke through the shield, and hit Voldemort, but the man shrugged it off and eyed a lone red head Slytherin girl who cursed him. Payback would be lovely.

"...KADAVRA!" bellowed Voldemort, the thick stream of green light was massive in size as it cut through the air hissing menacingly towards and hit the boy squarely on his impaled body, the beam completely embracing him.

As Harry's body limped; snarling, Voldemort pointed his wand over his head and exclaimed, "MORSMORDRE!"

No sooner had the spirited snake rolled out of the skull's mouth; multiple numbers of Apparitions appeared before Hogwart's bridge. The reinforced aurors had arrived, yet so did the remaining death eaters with their own wands drawn they began their battle completely unaware their saviour was dead by the hands of the self-proclaimed Greatest Dark Lord that ever lived.

"The boy-who-lived, is dead!" Voldemort announced with a snarl that earned him everyone's attention, "The Chose One, Harry Bloody Potter is dead!"
Their eyes followed the crucified boy who was hanging impaled over the Entrance Hall door. Sneering Voldemort glared at his not-so-faithful cowardly death eaters that fled after witness Potter boy coming back alive, "Those who dared defy me, shall bore witness to death so frightening your generation shall be born impotent!"

"Now, who could save you all? What are you going to do?" He taunted laughing menacingly as his dome was struck with various spells that didn't even reach.

"Fuck you, Voldemort!" raged many voices and they begun fighting back. The death eaters were fearful, but they could not leave once again, if they could defeat the aurors then perhaps their Master will forgive them.

"Pray,"

Meanwhile, Harry Potter was staring downcast at the floor below, slowly raised his head and watched a swirl of black mass appearing beside him. He clearly heard the killing curse incantation, so he assumed the black cloaked man floating beside him was Death who he met about an hour ago. As if time itself had slowed, for everyone but him Harry weakly stared at the grinning man beside him.

"Master..." Death darkly chuckled as he looked at Harry, "What are you up to?"

"You know, just hanging out... literally," Harry smiled staring into the pit of abyss in Death's eyes, "Are you here for me, Reaper?"

Death shook his head and pointed at everyone below, Harry's heterochromatic gaze followed the path of Death's finger, "I've here even before you rested...temporarily. But, yes, I'm here for them or at-least many of them."

"Heh..." Harry mirthfully chuckled, and asked curiously, "Is it not my time yet?"

"I am, but a mere chauffeur, Master, your kind is, but kindred spirits— just simple travellers. I'm simply carrying out a responsibility after-all, they need to embark upon a new journey," He morosely explained, "To answer your question. You are not my responsibility... yet."

"Is there a place, for sinners, Reaper?" Harry faced Voldemort with narrowed eyes, and saw the sickly green beams before his eyes.

"Who knows?" Death grinned, displaying his snowy white teeth, "You need to take over the mantle to nourish your curiosity, Master."

Harry remained quiet few seconds, and extended another curious doubt, "How old are you, Reaper?"

"Old enough to understand and know," answered Death, with an unnerving chortle.

Harry stared blankly, "Know what?"
"Everything," simply responded the dark robed man beside him.

Harry sighed, and stared below at his pupil, even though he didn't know half of them he felt somewhat responsible for them. Closing his eyes his life flashed before him, with accurate clean picture he went through his memories, beginning from the pensieve to the moment he inhaled Fiendfyre. He sorted through moments of happiness, pride, revulsion, jealousy, and every bit of sins and pleasures he had experienced in his bitter sweet melody of life. Perhaps those are the things that made him human.

"You are not mere human, Master," As if reading his thoughts, Death remarked. Harry's attention snapped at Death, who had his eyes set at someone below, and it wasn't Voldemort.

"Then what am I?"

"Trust me; you are more than skin and bones born for eating, shitting and breeding spawn in this wretched cosmos,"

Harry raised his blood covered eyebrow at his temporary companion, "Oh? Pray tell, what am I born for?"

"Greatness," muttered Death vaguely still not completely answering anything. Harry has had his fair share of people telling him he was meant to do great things. But, what he had no wonder of; it was both exciting and fraught for him, however hearing from Death himself he was rather anxious to know.

"You know I won't know if you won't tell me about it." Grumbled Harry then sighed.

"It befalls on choices and time, Master. Tom had a choice to ignore or act upon his fear. What he did sealed both his' and yours fate. If only Severus set aside his insecurities, and fear, life would have been different for you and him. Time, you could've chosen to leave this world earlier, things would have been different. You could've ignored the world, and the world will not bat an eye over you. Man makes his choices that changes mankind. You chose to listen to others, instead of yourself, and this state of affairs is constructed as results of your choices." Death's pale visage, was still staring at someone Harry couldn't see. The gaunt faced man continued, "Had you not chosen to listen to your conscience or rather your hustling tempered magic earlier, things could've been different as well."

Harry nodded; he had to think a lot about it, as he heard all this cryptic information.

"Say Reaper, would you like to make a deal?"

Death perked up hearing about it, as his down trodden face lightened up terrifyingly, "I'm listening,"

"You're not here for me, but for someone, I'm pretty sure one of them is Voldemort. Since, you are aware of my destiny, one has to survive the other, and I can't die at the moment since I am your master,"

"Oh?" Death raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'll give you two things and in return all you have to do is one thing."
"I am listening,"

"Whoever it is going to die, should not die." Death raised an eyebrow at that. His eyes fell upon a victim, and returned back to Harry.

"I'll have you return the Deathly Hollows, and present you Tom's soul," Death considered for a moment, "All you have to do is, leave that person all who you are eyeing for."

"You are too noble, Master." Remarked Death as he grinned darkly at Harry, who shivered slightly in fear, the tall dark haired man paused in consideration, "Your nobility shall be rewarded, young one."

"What? No 'Master'?" Death crowed loudly listening to Harry's implication, and shook his head.

"The Hallows were meant to be cursed objects concealed as reward to the brothers, it compelled the brothers mad, fulfilling my intentions." Death hovered back and forth, "But, you Harry James Potter, now, you are returning the Hallows to its rightful owner... that is I. Why shouldn't you be awarded for your thoughtfulness? You have valued life, and in terms allowing me one vile, and the priceless Hallows, you must be rewarded, and hence I hereby bless you with power over Time—to choose your end of mortality, without your wish or command, I or any of my kind could not mark your demise."

'Fuck' Harry thought. 'This is precisely the power Voldemort does not know. Partial immortality, motherfuck! I can't even die peacefully without some drama.'

Harry Potter's eyes widen, his Harry Potter luck or omen had made its appearance after unbinding his magic to his questionable side of his personality, and himself. He was torn in two, the voice which he had thoroughly ignored, oppressed since his childhood, had come back with a vengeance—and had opened the gateway of his doubts. Moreover, this gift or reward, he sincerely hoped it won't come back and bite him in his ass.

But, he needed to find answers, for that he needed to live. So, he closed his eyes and Death had already awarded him his blessing or curse? He had no idea, only acceptance is what he could do.

"I shouldn't have returned those hallows." He grumbled, Death laughed and vanished in a mass of black mists. The Elder Wand, Resurrection Stone and The Cloak he felt their presence evaporated from him.

"You have yet to fulfill your one of many destinies, young one'" the voice echoed inside his head.

Harry opened his eyes, and saw carnage. The aurors were fighting a horde of death eaters he hadn't thought existed. But, the screeched hiss over his head snapped his head over to stare at the sky. "Well that explains the reinforcement. Is Voldemort giving a monologue?" Harry asked Ares, who was silent throughout his conversation with Death.

"It appears so," Ares' responded, "Say Harry; would you like to witness his fear?"

Harry's head snapped up, and coughed up blood. His hetero-chromatic eyes fell upon the first person standing many feet away from him. Grunting he flexed his muscles of his wand arm. His forearm were spiked with an iron rod, wordlessly he summoned his wand, and touched the iron object and banished the rods he was impaled with.

A scream pierced from one of the children, when Harry dropped like a sack with a loud thump before the entrance hall. Warmness spread through his open flesh wound, as his chest was embraced with heat. He could feel the closing of his wound in an alarming rate, his flesh regenerating. So did the wound on his arms. Harry could hear the faint goading of Voldemort standing away from them. He startled many as he sprang back to his feet all of a sudden and shouted as he heard, 'What are you going to do?' "Pray!" he shouted.

Every eye stared at him in morbid fascination or fear; he didn't really bother to consider. Once again he survived a killing curse, and this time with witnesses.

"Harry!" everyone back paddled as he slowly sauntered down the stairs. Harry began his limped stroll, as the sea of students divided like he was Moses and they the sea.

Voldemort gaped flabbergasted, and for once he felt fear creeping over his spine. The warzone stilled as they saw Boy-Who-Lived standing tall.

"Impossible!" yelled one of the students along with Madam Pomphrey.

"Sweet mother molasses!" squeaked Filius Flitwick.

"Holy Odin's horny bollocks! What the fuck?!" Daphne Greengrass inhaled a sharp breath staring wide eyed at the only survivor of the Killing curse.

"Merlin's hairy beard!"McGonagall breathed as she stepped back frightened, at Harry's apparent resurrection after taking a killing curse to his chest.

He pointed his wand at Voldemort's dome of energy shield that still has not dithered under many furious assaults. "Fulminis!" a jet of thunderous lightening sped with such brightness everyone held their hands up to cover their eyes.

The bolt of lightning hit squarely at Voldemort's dome. The monster had to concentrate harder to keep his shield intact, but the force was so strong he skidded backwards. Rogue lightening recoiled and beckoned everywhere; many struck surprised Aurors, also the death eaters. And, the game changed.
Voldermort fearfully gazed into Harry's hetero-chromatic eyes that promised violence. Yet, he still held his pride, he sneered, "You cannot break through this shield, child! You cannot break my mental barriers."

Harry grinned dementedly, which disturbed many students nearby. It was unlike him, his crimson red eyes and the lamenting bright emerald looked at few familiar faces, who were watching him with shameless awe, and a few fearful gazes that didn't really affect him. "Are you the little pig, hiding behind the door from the big bad wolf, Tommy?" Harry asked imitating a child's voice much similar to that of Bellatrix.

He threw his hand at Hermione who struggled to catch the object dumbstruck at her friend's survival. He swung his back and forth without disturbing his barefooted feet. In a soft whisper serenely, he began, "Little pig, little pig, let me come in!"

Students fearfully stepped back, but Harry didn't paid any attention while he continued in a sickly childlike voice that sounded as if Molly Weasley had inhaled helium, he skipped a few steps back playfully, "No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin."

It was absolutely disturbing in a horrifying way, this boy bore no similarities from the boy everyone knew, they questioned whether if it was him or someone else.

"Has he gone mental?" Ron whispered to a dumbfound Ginny Weasley who had not uttered a single word since Harry's arrival.

"He took the killing curse, thrice in his lifetime, I won't be surprised if he is sane at the moment," Arthur gulped a nervous air tightening his hold on his wife's shoulder.

Harry dropped down in squat like position, but for the muggles they identified the fighting stance he had taken. Harry's voice lost the childlike innocence, and a demonic growl escaped his mouth, "Then I'll huff and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!" his magic flared all of a sudden, the floor beneath him shattered. The nearby students dreadfully ran backwards with screams.

Hermione recognized that small detonating noise, but she was shocked to see, Harry disappeared with it.

Harry Potter channelled his magic unto his legs and fists, as he suddenly lunged forward with a small sonic boom at a blinding speed that many witnessed as a mere teleportation or rather a speedy Apparition. Voldemort's fearfully stepped back some more when he saw his arch enemy vanished in thin air like he had before, within a blink of an eye the boy appeared and smashed his fist on the dome.

Shockwave hailed followed by a shattering sound of thick glasses had everyone's attention as they turned their head back at the Dark Lord. Their eye brows were almost reaching their hair line over their foreheads. Voldemort's shield had imploded in an instant. Harry Potter had managed to punch through the shield that even a combined Reductors were not capable to do so. His fist was glowing red, a dreadful feeling sank in Voldemort's deep pit of stomach, the feeling that he had not felt for a long time.

It was utterly appalling for him, as Harry Potter broke through his mental dome. Before he could even think of an attack or defence he was before out of nowhere grinning like a mad man, his fist pulled back ready to punch his soul out. In that moment he felt a cold awareness, as he shuddered involuntarily. A man was slowly sauntering beside Harry leisurely, as if time had stopped, but Harry Potter was in slow motion his fist inching closer. Unfortunately, he could not move—he saw the man in black rob, with a menacing aura grinning much like Potter.

"You have lived a sorrowful yet a questionable life, Tom." The man said his eyes as dark as abyss made Voldemort tremble slightly, "But, your destiny has been fulfilled!"

"W—who are you?" Voldemort fearfully asked.

The man before his grinned as Cheshire cat, and replied loudly, "I am, eternal!" It was the last thing he heard as Voldemort screamed out his lungs, and it was not pleasant.

Harry Potter bashed Voldemort's temple with his speeding fist. The power behind Harry's fist blocked his blood flow, and his vision darkened. The monster was forced off his feet as he was thrown straight towards the nigh indestructible walls of Hogwarts, but before he was met the walls. Harry had appeared above him, fists pulled back to strike once again at his chest.

His fist glowed red, as it crashed into Dark Lord's bony chest, his heart instantly stopped beating, his breathing had ceased immediately. The crater and the breaking of floor made everyone jump of their feet.

Harry had placed himself mounted over Voldemort's dead body, and soon he began his assault. His fist cracked and broke down Voldemort's face in gory detail—slowly disfiguring the hideous snake like abdominal face. Harry's grin was all but lost, replaced by a grimace as he kept hitting.

Blow after blow, Harry was still not done as he laid out elbows in too, "I fucking told you! I'll kill you with my bare hands! Where your smart remark is huh Tom?! Where is it?!" He rambled like he had lost his sanity. All could do much more, but their fear of him had clutched their very conscience. They began doubting whether approaching the insane kid was a good idea at the moment. Soon, a screech from a down trodden Death Eater was all it took for everyone to realize the Boy-Who-Lived laying the smack down on their master. And, by the looks of it—the master was lifeless.

"Avada Kadavra!" a vengeful Death eater snarled sending a killing curse at Harry who vanished from their line of sight with an explosive noise.

It only took three seconds—three terrifying seconds when bodies dropped like sackful of potatoes, all belonging to the final followers of their lovable Dark Lords. Broken bodies with snapped necks, smashed faces, and armless victims of Potter's wrath where moaning painfully on the ground. The aurors didn't have much to do anyway.

Harry appeared before the broken disfigured body of Voldemort, and stood there tall, panting evenly. Gaze unwavering, he just stared.

It took about five minutes for everyone to settle their witness, realizing the cause of their nightmare is finally dead. However, the dilemma remained what to do now? What shall they do for Harry? Only his close friends noticed the down cast eyes, tears washing away the blood stained face of his. But, no one dared to move an inch towards him, after witnessing him performing feats impossible they were extremely wary, with many thoughts circling had he gone dark? The things he had performed could not be done without the help of 'Dark' magic, so many thought this Harry was not their Harry.

"Harry..." he could vaguely hear his best friend whispering his name, but he was too self-occupied to turn and face her. Only she knew he desperately needed comforting without him uttering a single word. Hermione the only person who he cared for, second followed by the Weasleys. But, he seriously doubted if they could accept for who he is now.

She was aware of her fears, the strain it was putting on her heartstrings, as she watched the boy who had saved her from the trolls and now from a monster who plagued nightmares on everyone. And, he had killed him with his bare hands no less. Conflicted, at what she should do, she called up of whatever deity she had never believed in to bless her with courage to take a step forward.

Which she did...

It didn't take much time to reach the droopy shouldered boy who was still staring at the dead body of his mortal enemy. No one dared to come between them, perfectly aware none could do what only she could do. She noticed he was taller than her now.

Harry felt arms encircling his torso from behind, a head resting on his charred shoulder. He sighed dejectedly, and leaned his head back atop of Hermione's cherishing the only warmth he could feel at the moment.

"It's over, Hermione," he said, as a sob escaped her lips. He felt her tremble against him but still she held on to him like lifeline.

"I-it is... you've done it, Harry, you won..." she whispered against his skin and repeated as if consoling herself, "It's over."

Hermione tightened her hold on him, and confessed, another sob escaped, "I thought I lost you."

"You never will, that I promise you." Harry assured consoling the inner turmoil within her. He shifted his weight, her grip loosened—turning back he hugged her fiercely. Then she choked on her sob, and convulsed, crying to her heart's content for the storm of feelings breaking her mental barriers.

An auror appeared nearby, and stared amazed at the war torn body of The Chose One who had apparently took down two dozens of death eaters single handily, after killing off The Dark Lord. But, his duty spoke volume, and so he said, "Mr. Potter, I'm sorry to announce at a time like this, but you are under arrest for breaking into Gringotts, and multiple assaults."

"What?" Hermione gaze sharply turned towards the auror, questioning his gall after witnessing everything they went through. Her icy glare returned, bloodshot eyes challenged the auror to repeat. She had no intention to lose the only person who had so much to go through some half-assed backward cowardly society.

The auror gulped nervously, seeing the glare from Hermione, Harry had his eyes closed breathing deep breaths. Harry's eyes slowly opened, and he called, "That's it. Nice way of congratulating a victory."

Hermione stared at her friend's hetero-chromatic eyes for the first time and gasped. An emerald green and ruby red eye gazed down at her. She stiffened as she heard him speak, "I'm done..."

"Harry," she was fearful all of a sudden.

Harry sighed morosely, and stared at the skies above, "After all the shits I've been through, from being slandered to be called The Chosen One. I'm pretty sure most—or at-most every one of them will say I'm the new Dark Lord." he chuckled but there was no humour on his tone, "One moment of apathy... I need one moment of apathy for once in my life, Hermione."

"All my life, I've been controlled by someone... all my life; it was a boon, when I first laid my eyes upon Hogwart's letter." A sad smile graced his downcast face, "A new world...I thought I could make a brand new start..."

Hermione carefully listened, so did everyone near their vicinity, Harry thoughtfully paused, then continued, "...a life I desperately needed, but I... every year some shit happened, you know, you were there at every corner, every state I was in, trust me, even Ron had his lapses, but you... you remained."
She stole a glance, at her new found boyfriend, who was watching the scene concerned, by the looks of it, he understood what Harry was referring to, "Like an anchor to keep going. I envied you Hermione."

"What?" she questioned completely disgruntled at where Harry was going with this conversation. It pleased her heart, which was slowly picking up pace.

"I envied your drive to put everything behind you, your struggle—keeping your head high amongst the bigots, despite being... normal let's call them mundane from now..." Mesmerized, she paid attention now that he didn't refer to her as a muggle, "...I admired you..."

Her gaze snapped at him, wide chocolate brown eyes stared into his hetero-chromatic pools, "Yes, I did... your resolve to prove them wrong, your strife to stay above and beyond to the ones who looked down on you." A careful yet wary glance brushed across Ron's narrowed eyes, "...You never faltered in your steps; honestly, it was you who I based my will power on, to keep moving forward even when everything and everyone was against me, I listened to you instead of my own, and for that I envied you."

He stepped back, which made the aurors tensed. But, Harry casually moved towards centre, eyes still holding unto Hermione, "But, I wonder Hermione, are they worth it?"

She paled at his implication, her hammering heart grinded with a force that she felt she couldn't breathe anymore, she stuttered uncharacteristically, "Wh—what do you mean, Harry?"

"You've been here for nearly seven year, so have I, and perhaps most of the... mundane ones... apart from the half-bloods. The purebloods..." he turned and narrowly set his eyes upon the lot, starting from the Weasleys to the Slytherin crowd who shivered under his gaze,"...they are lot better at what they do according to them."

She was deeply offended, but Harry cut off, "If something's not broken, then it does not need fixing...that is what they hold dear to, Hermione. And, they have proved us time and time again. You strive for making a name in their hearts... so do you all mundane-born do the same?!" With rapt attention the Muggle-born listened to his say.

"And, what do they offer in return? Discrimination, slander, like your very existence is a plague and needed to be crushed before you rise!" he exclaimed, fists clenched tightly, he continued, "So, tell me, Hermione, is it really worth it?"

She staggered back under his full pointed gaze, stammering she began "I... I...don't know..."

"You never thought about it did you?" she remained quiet, Harry shook his head disapprovingly, "I don't blame you, unlike the other Mundanes, you want to rise to the top, by following the rules and praising the authoritarians. Those rules you admire decided by them, rules that have oppressed Mundanes under ministry's scrutiny since forever!"

Harry scowled while continuing, "Why struggle your ass off in a backward state of magical Britain? Why not be progressive somewhere else or nowhere!"

He pointed his finger at his wounded scar, "The Killing curse opened my eyes, to something that I had ignored for so long... excuses, were all I held on to. I've been disappointed with everyone including myself—most importantly with the leader of Light!" he ignored the sharp inhales, "The war that could've ended no sooner than you could believe—your fears! Incompetency for acceptance that your way isn't the normally the right way is what brought you to your knees. Incapable of uttering his name was your downfall first and foremost all under the nose of too-many-titles and no weight, Dumbledore!" he cried venomously.

"You bloody hypocrite!" Ron spat, and visibly shook with anger, "How dare you to speak ill against us! NO one is Merlin's second coming unlike you, to have gone against him!" Ron sarcasm was laced with anger, "You ignorant twat, how dare you look down on us!"

"How fucking dare I? You put your fears and worry over a child and celebrated his parents' death!" Replied Harry pointedly.

"No we did not! It was Voldemort's downfall you bloody ungrateful asshole!"

"It was my mother's knowledge that saved me, a muggle witch! The society ignored her, whilst praised a toddler for vanquishing evil! Who's the bloody idiot now, Ron?!" He had pointed his finger at his best friend.

"If I were not the Boy-Who-Lived, what would I be? Ever wondered about it?" Harry spoke softly, but the acidic tone still grazed every heart, "I would be just another orphan, with no guardian 'cause my Godfather was a criminal, thanks to this ministry, a magical guardian who abandoned me at an abusive household" he drawled sarcasm dripped by his tongue, "Where would I been, I love your lot with all my heart, Ron, believe me—but often I wondered what if I was not the boy-who-lived would you still be my friend when you first knocked on my compartment?"

"Of course we would!" Molly Weasley vehemently denied Harry's lead, "How come you think so lowly of us, Harry."

"Please Mrs. Weasley it is really difficult for me to put everything clear now after all I've been put through. Don't push me into the sea of guilt, no doubt about your mothering nature and skills. I enjoyed my time with you lot, for which I'm utterly grateful. You made me realize what it is to have a family..." he paused, and sighed, "...but in the end, you were not. My family is dead, Mrs. Weasley, you are the closest to what I can call a family yet still not complete. I know you desperately needed me to accept you all as one, but I can't, sorry, Mrs. Weasley I can't, I'm not that strong to let go of something I was denied ever since they died." She wept quietly, as her husband comforted her.

"How do you look at me now when my hands are covered with their blood?" he asked whilst outstretching his arms encompassing the bodies that lay battered, beaten and dead. "What would you do if I said; I've taken help of dark magic to kill him?" he earned a selective sharp breath of astonishment. Clearly, believing his words as gospel, if Harry said that then it must be true.

Harry read their faces, and his eyes went sombre recognizing they had already believed his fabricated implication as gospel. Sighing he turned his back at them, an eye stole a quick glance at Ginny in hope at-least she would not believe it. A thought struck him; he was never really close to her, why would her opinion matter anyway? Shaking his head despondent at the fact a simple lie could address him to wariness and fear was enough for him to realize it was not worth his effort to make them believe him anymore.

"I don't trust the aurors, and certainly, I don't trust the ministry," he gazed at the aurors with narrow eyes, "It breaks my heart to say, I don't even trust Dumbledore, after all he knew everything and yet did nothing proves many things right.

I was a fool to blindly put my faith in him; I am ashamed my actions that led a bunch of school kids to wage war against that monster, even though they signed up to do so themselves. A work which should've been done by the Defense force was done by Hogwarts students. Even though, I am sorry for the loss of every family who lost their children in this meaningless war, my heart goes out to them, other than that I have nothing to offer." He stated ruthlessly. Harry slowly made his way towards Hermione, a look of thoughtfulness had etched on her face, still struggling with her inner war, and he spoke loudly,

"I got rid of the man of your nightmares..." whilst he point his finger at the fallen corpse of Voldemort, "I fulfilled my destiny apparently, bullshit I say, but the old man died for it along with bunch of other great men, so it must hold importance for you lot. But now, I bid my farewell to you."

Their heads snapped towards him. Hermione's heart constricted in a tight grip, lurching as he said those words, she gaped at him. Harry cut her off by placing a finger on her lips, "I know what you want to ask. But, try to think of everything, Hermione, try to find reasons for my decisions with an open mind, I implore of you, please try that for once."

Unshed tears made their appearance on Harry's face, unlike him Hermione tears dropped down her chin, she hugged herself tightly seeking sudden comfort. As he realized, he encircled his arms around her in an embrace, and patted her back consolingly. "When will I see you again?" she whispered for only him.

Harry ran his fingers through her unkempt bushy mane soothingly that drew a sigh from her, he responded in same whisper at her ear, "Whenever you want to, but I don't promise to meet the others, unless they find reason."

Feeling her nod, breathing even, he stepped back and gazed unto her brown coloured eyes hopeful not to see some semblance forever imprinting her look of broken heart; however she was stronger than that. She held his hetero-chromatic eyes levelly and nodded her consent given he then broke her gaze.

Harry straightened his shoulder in confidence and clicked his tongue challenging the auror to come forward to arrest him. Seeing the man hesitate, he grinned his apparent madness appeared when he killed Voldemort. The ruby eye shone brightly even in broad day light of afternoon, he taunted ambitiously, "Are you going to stand there all bloody day or are you going to do your fucking job?"

The auror hesitated, that made Harry chuckle lightly—he focused his magic and levitated himself. As he did so, many stepped back alarmed, their wands drawn at him.

One last glance at everyone, who stared at him awed and apparent terrify. He shook his head dismayed, and looked towards the open sky.

Hermione watched her friend with a questionable awe floating few feet above ground. She had lot of questions to look forward into, and answers she desperately needed afterwards. She was confused about everything, which she needed to clear her head from. But for now, all see could do to have hope that her friend will return to her someday, moreover she wished that she must've found her answers.

Harry broke the sound barrier in an instant, a tiny shockwave ushered everyone to stagger back as they saw him dart up in a flash twinkling in bright day light. Their eyes followed his silhouette for few moments until he disappeared with another loud explosion.

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A/N: I really hope the story's alright. Please leave a review if you liked it or not.