Prologue –

The raven-haired teen stared around the room, his emerald eyes wide with shock.

His mortal enemy lay dead at his feet, a small knife in his chest and three bullets in his head.

Who would have thought that simple muggle weapons would fell the greatest Dark Wizard of this centaury?

The young man glanced at the corpse on the floor; he had been fighting against him in this war for so long, he knew not what to do next.

A soft bubbling noise could be heard coming from the other room.

The familiar sound jerked the teen to his senses and he followed it.

There, on a table surrounded by page upon page of notes, was a cauldron.

A caldron that signalled the completion of his enemy's life's work.

A cauldron of immortality potion.

Surprisingly the cauldron was untouched, the potion had not been taken.

The monster that had been his enemy probably thought it would have been poetic justice to kill the boy who thwarted him at every turn before taking the potion that would allow him eternal life and eternal power.

He was always dense in that way. Most evil villains were.

But now the potion, what to do with it?

It couldn't be destroyed; it was an immortality potion in every sense of the word.

It couldn't be left either; anyone could use it. The Death Eaters. Minister Fudge. Even Dumbledore, that manipulative old git.

No, he couldn't let any one else get their hands on it, lest another war may begin against an even greater foe.

So what could he do?

He could...

No, that would be far too dangerous...

But it would stop anyone else getting the potion, then he could burn house along with the notes...

No one would ever know...

It was the only option...

He poured out the potion into the waiting silver goblet, and in one swallow it was gone.

His eyes glowed ethereal silver as liquid sunshine flowed through his veins, his magic increased tenfold and his lifespan was reset as infinite.

He was immortal.

Forever to be seventeen.

He cupped his hand and concentrated, immediately a flame sprung in his upturned palm. He stared at it noticing that every time he blinked it changed colours, pink, green, orange, blue and finally silver.

The teen threw the fireball at the papers they caught alight quickly disintegrating into ash.

The house was predominantly made of wood and with a few strategically placed flames it was burning merrily.

When he saw his work was complete the young man closed his eyes and concentrated and without a sound he was gone.


Shrieking Shack Burned

This morning the townspeople of the wizarding village of Hogsmeade woke to
a strange sight. The famed 'Shrieking Shack', said to be haunted, was burned to the ground, not a single part of the building was left standing.

But, this was not the most bizarre sight to be seen. For, above these ruins was a symbol, not the skull and snake symbol of You-Know-Who, but a
simple bright silver lightning bolt.

There are many rumours surrounding this odd appearance. Is it another Dark Lord? Is some one just playing a prank? Or, as this reporter hopes is true,
has Harry Potter finally defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and is using
this as his calling card?

Rita Skeeter, The Daily Prophet.