Rowling is Always Right

For some strange reason it wasn't working out the way I wanted it to. I was losing control. It was like the characters literally had minds of their own and now they were directing how the plot was forming. Worst of all, I didn't have a clue how it was going to end. With Voldemort in particular. His hubris seemed to be growing by the second until he thought he was going to become headmaster of Hogwarts. Not a chance. I'm not writing him the headmaster of Hogwarts! Do you know how much that would disappoint my fans? Besides, that's not the way it's supposed to end. Whatever happened to the motif of good always triumphing over evil? I'm sticking to that. I can't let Harry die! Voldemort has to be stopped. Even for the villain, he's taking this way too far. I mean, look at him right now. He has everybody at Hogwarts under his control, and he's… Is that Ron? He torturing Ron? Intervention time!

"Avada Ke…" he started to say. But right here I Apparated in. Voldemort looked at me with shock. "Umm… excuse me; I'm in the middle of committing a murder. Not exactly the best time to be Apparating right into the middle of a scene. How did you Apparate here anyway, you can't inside the Hogwarts grounds."

"Being me has its advantages," I replied with a smirk. "And that's precisely why I'm here. I'm going to stop you from committing any more murder. Look, it's working."

Voldemort turned around and saw that everyone, including Ron, had vanished. His evil plans had been fouled again. He howled in rage "You lost me my victim!" He aimed right at my heart, "Avada Kedavra!" A green burst of light exploded from his wand… and seemed to pass right through me with no effect. "WHAT? AVADA KEDAVRA, AVADA KEDAVRA, AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Again, I smirked. "Another one of my advantages, Tom," I said, infuriating him further.

"Well then just who are you?" he hissed with vehemence.

"I am Joanne Rowling," I said with authority. "I control your every move. You were defeated by a one-year-old boy because I wanted you to be defeated by a one-year-old boy. He has escaped you every time because I wanted him to escape you every time, and he will escape again. He will live. You'll never win, Tom. I will write you as I see fit: a coward destined to lose."

At this Voldemort laughed. "You have no control over me! No one has control over me. I do as I please to whom I please, and the only reason Potter is still alive is because I made a mistake. I overlooked a simple little thing. But I know better now, and he will not escape again. Nor will a mere mortal like yourself stop me, either."

"If I am but a 'mere mortal,' as you put it, then why are you so unable to kill me? Your pride is your greatest weakness, Tom, and it is that way because I wrote it that way. No matter how hard you try, you cannot succeed. I have made sure you cannot succeed."

Voldemort howled in fury and raised his wand again, still determined to be rid of me. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" But again, the light only passed through me without the slightest effect.

"Even now, Tom, you come at me armed with powerful dark magic, but I have the true magic. The magic of words and imagination; a magic so powerful yet so simple even a child can have mastery of it and use it to defeat you. It was with such magic that you were created, and it will be with such that shall defeat you. Don't believe me? Next time you go after Harry, watch what happens." I Disapparated, leaving him standing there with a look of shock and bewilderment upon his face.

I immediately set back to work, setting the stage for the battle that was inevitably to happen, making sure Harry had everything he needed. Then I had a malicious idea. I would make Voldemort appear triumphant at first, but then turn the tables on him and shock him so much he'll have no idea what's happening. I devised the perfect scene. Harry sacrificing himself to Voldemort, seeing Dumbledore again, and getting the last bit of information he needs before returning to defeat Voldemort once and for all. The thought was one of perfection.

And you, my dear readers, know exactly the scene of which I speak, and therefore, know exactly the way events unfold. Though you don't know everything. Let it now be known that the last thought that ever went through the mind of Tom Marvolo Riddle, otherwise known as Lord Voldemort— as he looked at Harry, alive and well, with astonishment, and saw the jet of green light aimed not at the Boy who Lived but instead at himself— was this: Rowling was right.

Sorry Tom, it's a little too late for remorse now.