In Potter's Fields

In Potter's fields,
Where the lilies grow,
Through the graves,
Row on row.
That mark our place,
And in the sky,
The owls,
Still sadly hooting cry.
Through the death and woe,
We dealt with pain,
Through the battle
Raged through the rain
Slowly singing,
The mourners come.
We paid with our lives
To defeat the Dark One
Few of us,
Are yet alive,
We come to see,
The broken knives
The hearts of woe
And sorrow are here,
But the dead are gone,
Don't shed a tear.
They died with wealth
In spirit,
And pride.
And their graves,
We shalt not hide

The day was not bright, nor happy. After all, no day was anymore. The war had destroyed everything, Families, friendships, life in general. Harry Potter was gone, nothing but a mere memory of a brave soul that took on the weight of the world. Why must he die? He was young, hadn't lived a full life. They wouldn't want to know the truth... If they had just listened to him, none of this would have happened. They realised when it was too late. Voldemort was at full power, no one could stop him anymore.

^^^^^^^Flashback^^^^^^^^

Harry searched through the fields of dead bodies. The sight was gruesome, blood everywhere. Harry would have never imagined a wizard war to look like this. He saw, that this war, fought with wands, was much like one fought with muggle contraptions, Guns, planes, and grenades.

He was looking for the evil one that had started it all. Atop the highest hill, Harry spotted a group of Death Eaters. He knew what they surrounded. Voldemort. The Death Eaters parted, and there was Voldemort, standing on a large stone, giving orders.

Harry felt hands grab him from the back. He was being pulled to the hill. He knew it; the final show down was near. He knew he would most likely be dead soon. He knew that he was doing this for all of wizard kind. Everything he had worked for would be worth it at this very moment.

"We meet again, Potter," said a voice Harry remembered.

"Malfoy? Draco Bloody Malfoy?" he asked.

"Yes, Draco Bloody Malfoy. And you are Harry Dead Potter."

"How would you know that?" Harry sneered, suddenly remembering that he was being dragged to Voldemort.

"Let's see, what is your odds of surviving when your about to face your arch nemesis from so many years? I've seen that maniac glint in his eyes while saying your name too many times. Believe me, Potter, you are going to die."

"Thanks Malfoy, I appreciate that. Are you going to recite poetry right now? I don't need that right now. Not before I die."

Harry's life flashed before his eyes, his friends, Hermione, Ron, Remus, and Sirius. He'll miss them all, even Draco and his sarcastic remarks, although he was the one leaving him to death.

After what seemed like hours, there was Harry, beside Voldemort on the hill. He was pushed into the center, kind of like a spotlight. The Death Eaters formed a circle around them, much like four years ago.

"Well, we meet again, dear Harry. This time it is 'till your death!" Voldemort said, loud enough for all of the Death Eaters to hear.

"No, Tom, you are the one that will die. Not me. I may be young, but I know good conquers evil."

"Harry, Harry, Harry. Must we be so optimistic? So, so. Brave in front of me? When will you learn? If good had conquered evil, would I still be here? Oh, and I'd appreciate it if you addressed me as Voldemort." Riddle sneered.

"Well," Harry made a move for his wand, "Maybe if I defeat you now, evil would be gone forever."

"As long as people wish to die, evil will be around. Just long enough to watch in joy as people die in agony from the Killing Curse."

"No. No they don't want to die."

"You're right, Harry," Voldemort spoke, pretending that he didn't hear Harry, "Everyone wants to die."

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Yes, no one could stop Voldemort now. Yet, Harry wasn't just anybody. He was Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. Everybody knew that. Even Voldemort, though he chose not to accept it. He will kill Harry even if trying would kill him.