/I don't own anything you recognize in this story. /

"Courage is the price that Life exacts for granting peace." –Amelia Earhart

He knew that defeating the greatest Dark wizard of all time was inevitable. But everyone knew that Harry Potter was afraid. He didn't want to face this man…or what you could call a man in Voldemort. If he wasn't afraid, Harry couldn't be called human.

Despite this knowledge of his deepest fears, Harry knew what he must do. He needed to avenge his parents' death and all the people who didn't deserve to die. For the families who were torn apart due to this man's treachery. If he didn't do it, no one else would. They were too afraid.

Harry gazed through the open window, allowing the breeze to gently caress his skin and tug gently at his hair. It was a comforting feeling, as if it were telling him there was nothing to fear. And as far as Harry was concerned, there wasn't any. Holding onto fear didn't make anything any better.

He felt his stomach churn within him, but he chose to ignore it. Did all the great men of the world feel this way right before the greatest turning point happened? Was that what Albus Dumbledore felt time and again when facing Tom Riddle and watching helplessly as Harry made his own way through this uncertain world?

Harry twirled his wand between his fingers. This was the only thing that stood between him and death. That and his own smarts. He hoped that he wouldn't be a disappointment to anyone. So much hung on the balance and if he failed…

Harry shuddered. He wouldn't dare think about failing. Failure was an impossibility. He had to succeed. He was the only one.

Turning from the window, Harry faced the dark man in the corner. Harry knew that the man had been watching him the whole time, searching for a weakness that would show his eventual failure. Harry wasn't going to give his former professor that satisfaction.

Severus Snape's lips curled into a sneer. As much as he hated Harry, the son of his oppressor, Snape couldn't help but feel slightly protective of the boy. He was too young to face the most dangerous man in history. If there was a way that he could change things, he would. But there was no way of going back now. Things have been set into motion.

"Are you ready, Potter?" Snape asked.

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. There was no use in prolonging what would have to come sooner or later.

"Yes, I am ready," Harry exclaimed. "There is nothing more to be done here."

Snape's eyes clouded with concern, if only briefly. Harry wondered what had caused the sudden emotion. Severus Snape in all Harry's time of knowing him rarely showed emotions beyond anger for those that he despised. Perhaps Snape had a change of heart in what would seem Harry's last moments alive. For how could Harry stay alive after receiving battle wounds from Voldemort? It was little to none.

"Are you…sure of this?" Snape asked haltingly, hating himself for showing compassion towards Harry.

Harry sighed. "I have never been more certain of anything in my life."

"You know," Snape said, pausing for a moment, "you could always prolong it for a little while longer. Just to make sure you've learned all the necessary spells."

Harry shook his head. "There is no more to be done. I've done all that I can do to prepare myself. There can be nothing more than to go out there and hope for the best."

Harry was still a little bit suspicious of Snape. After all, he had betrayed the greatest wizard of all time; had put his complete confidence into this dark, hateful wizard who held grudges for what seemed like forever.

Snape gave a curt nod. "There is no use in waiting any longer, then."

As Snape led him down the hall towards the open courtyard, Harry thought about his life. There were many things that he could have been bitter and on many occasions he had expressed his frustrations on his inability to change the turn of events that had happened to him. But for the most part, Harry knew he had a good life. He was thankful for Hagrid, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Dumbledore and many others who gave him the chance to lead his life as normally as possible—to be himself.

As he stepped out into the cool night, Harry felt his stomach knot uncomfortably. This was it. He was to fight the greatest battle of all time that would determine the fate of the whole world.

Voldemort turned slowly to face Harry as the boy came closer. His Death Eaters were gathered in a circle, in their respective places. His opponent looked nervous, yet determined. It was perfect for a battle and Voldemort knew the two of them were never as prepared as they were tonight.

Finally, Harry stopped, only about six feet away. Voldemort knew he could kill the boy now, but he knew courtesy. He had to let the famous Harry Potter pretend he was fighting an excruciating battle, a critical one between good and evil. But in truth it was only going to take a few minutes.

Voldemort smiled. "Are you ready to die, Potter?"

Harry clenched his wand tightly. "Not without a fight."

Voldemort laughed. "So noble. It's a pity your parents aren't here to see you defend the world's honor."

"At least someone here has the ability to show compassion," Harry retorted.

Voldemort frowned. The boy had become more of a nuisance as he got older. Well, that couldn't be helped. At least Harry was going to die before the sun came out.

Voldemort raised his wand. "Are you ready, Potter?"

"I haven't been more ready."

The two of them bowed to each other as was deemed necessary. And so the battle for the world began.

It was a long, tiring battle, even for Voldemort. Harry had gotten to be a superb duelist and that was saying something. It was almost as if Potter had acquired Dumbledore's genius.

It was in this darkest hour before dawn when Voldemort failed to block a well-placed disarming spell. He watched as his wand sailed through the air and was caught neatly by Harry. Voldemort stood catching his breath, his glare piercing through Harry. If looks could kill, the Potter boy would have already been dead.

"I suppose this is the end," Voldemort growled.

"It will never be the end," Harry answered simply. "You're lies will affect millions for years to come."

"At least I'll be remembered as the greatest and most powerful wizard of all time," Voldemort laughed coldly.

"Powerful, maybe, but you could never be the greatest," Harry stated. "That honor can only be bestowed upon one person alone."

"And who might that be, might I ask?" Voldemort sneered.

"Albus Dumbledore," Harry said. "No one can ever come close to what he had."

Voldemort began to laugh uncontrollably. "Albus Dumbledore! He's nothing more than a crackpot old fool. He deserved to die."

"He died, but he will never be forgotten!" a voice said behind them.

Harry knew that it was a very stupid thing to turn his back on Voldemort, but he did anyway. And when he turned around, he gasped in shock. The person who was speaking was no one more or less than Severus Snape.

Voldemort was also shocked. Snape had been one of his most trusted and devoted followers. And this foul, greasy man was a traitor in the deepest sense.

Snape walked towards Voldemort stopping to stand beside Harry. Harry looked into Snape's eyes and saw something in them that he had never seen in the potion master's eyes. It was sadness. And even more shocking, an admiration for the seventeen year old that Harry had never felt from the hard-hearted old man.

"You won't be hurting Potter without getting to me first," Snape growled.

Voldemort began laughing in his high, cold laugh. "You, Severus Snape? I didn't think you had it in you to be a betrayer of the cause."

"You know less about me than you know," Snape growled.

Before Harry could react, Snape shoved him to the ground. There was a flash of green light and the whole circle went into pandemonium. Raising himself to his knees, Harry noticed a fallen, limp body on the ground. On closer inspection, Harry realized the body was that of Voldemort. The greatest Dark Wizard of all time had tortured so many for so many years had died only in a matter of minutes. But he hadn't died by Harry's hands and for that he was a little guilty. The Boy Who Lived should have also been The Boy Who Felled Voldemort.

Lucius Malfoy came striding over, yanking his Death Eater mask off his face. There was a look of pure fury marking his face and for once it wasn't directed at Harry. It was toward Snape.

"You blood traitor!" Malfoy screamed. "You killed the only man who could have redeemed us and kept our status in this world!"

"Redemption doesn't count if it means to kill senselessly," Snape exclaimed. "And for that I am sorry that I have been so blind to all this time."

So Snape had truly changed heart. Harry rose to his feet and started towards the man that he had hated for so long, that his parents and godfather had despised for so long. He only wished that they could have lived to see this new man in Snape.

Snape stopped Harry from coming any closer. "Go, this place isn't safe for you. Run. Run, Harry, for all that's worth to you in this life!"

And for once, Harry didn't argue or disobey Snape's orders. He ran for all he was worth. And for once, the famous Harry Potter was thankful that he was alive. He was the Boy Who Lived. Funny how so much hate, emotion, and fame came into play with just one single scar.

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Author's Note: This is a one shot story, though I might write a sequel (but I'm not making any promises). I'm sorry for the stupid ending, but that's the way it came out. This was more to show Harry's emotions before he fought Voldemort, not how the ending came out.

Anyways, I hope everybody enjoyed the story and I hope you continue reading the fan fiction I try to pump out for you all. Don't forget to review!