A/N: This is the final chapter before the Epilogue.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.

Chapter 21 – The Final Confrontation

Kingsley was calling for quiet. "Our one hour is almost over!" he announced over the heads in the crowd. "We need to strategize—!" But he was unable to finish his sentence, because he was interrupted by a new voice—Voldemort again.

"Harry Potter is dead."

"No," Lucy whispered, dread filling her. She felt dizzy—it was as though the world had slipped out from under her, and she was falling. There was a ringing in her ears, and Jeremy put his arm around her waist to help steady her.

"He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself, while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero… is gone."

"LIAR!" Lucy snarled, and she heard others around her agreeing.

"The battle is won. You have lost half your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist—man, woman, or child—will be slaughtered—as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children—your brothers and sisters—will live and be forgiven—and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

There was silence for a moment, and those gathered in the castle knew that Voldemort had finished speaking.

"Does he really expect us to believe that bullshit?" Lucy grumbled, balling her hands up.

"Lucy—what if he's telling the truth?" Jeremy asked her.

Lucy turned to him, taking in his concerned look. "Even if Harry is—even if—if he's dead—" She choked on the word as she forced it out. "—we can't stop fighting now. I'm not giving up—I'm not bowing to him."

"Lucy—"

"NO!" Lucy snapped, pulling away from Jeremy and standing before him and the rest of her friends—her family. "I'm not bowing to him! If Harry really is gone, I'm going to honor him in the best way I know how—by fighting for our freedom! I'm not giving up!"

She hadn't meant it to seem like a heroic speech, but there was a moment of silence after her words, followed by clapping. She glanced around, locking eyes briefly with each of her friends: Jeremy, Neville, Ginny, Ron, Hermione. They stared back at her with determination on their faces.

"Someone's coming!" A member of the Order skidded through the doorway into the Great Hall—he had been keeping watch at the entrance of the castle. "There's a whole group of people marching down the lawn from the forest!"

"It's Voldemort," Lucy hissed.

There was a flurry of noise as everyone who wasn't seriously injured ran out of the hall and towards the front doors. Professor McGonagall was leading the way, and she pulled the doors open. They all began to pile out of the castle, gathering around the front steps.

Voldemort was indeed leading his group of Death Eaters forward. He looked terrifying to Lucy—she had never actually seen him in person before. He was deathly pale, and his nose was flat. Even from the distance, Lucy could see that his eyes were bright red; he was so unnatural that it was hard for Lucy to look at him with anything but disgust.

Voldemort's giant snake Nagini was wrapped around his shoulders. Lucy glanced at Ron and Hermione—all they had to do was get to the snake somehow—

"NO!" Professor McGonagall wailed.

Hagrid had stomped into view, being forced by the Death Eaters to walk forward. In his arms was Harry—Harry's body.

"No!"

"No!"

"Harry! HARRY!"

Everyone around Lucy started to cry out, unable to believe that Harry was indeed dead. But Lucy couldn't say anything—couldn't speak or yell—because she knew that, even if Harry was gone, this wasn't over—not yet.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort finally screamed, waving his wand.

There was a loud bang, and everyone in the crowd became silent.

"It is over!" Voldemort spat. "Set him down, Hagrid—at my feet, where he belongs!"

Lucy clenched her fists as Hagrid did as he was told. Harry's body laid motionless on the ground. Get up, Harry, Lucy thought. Get up.

"You see?" Voldemort said gleefully. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing—ever—but a boy, who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

Lucy stepped forward in front of the others and shouted, "He beat you!"

Voldemort's grin turned lethal. "We finally meet, Lucy Jones," he said in an oily tone. "Do you want to hear all about how your dear brother died? How he was trying to sneak out of the castle while you all fought for him? He tried to save himself—"

"You're a LIAR!" Lucy screamed. "I won't let you talk about him like that! Harry sacrificed himself, so that the rest of us might have a chance!"

The rest of the crowd behind her roared in agreement, and Voldemort waved his wand furiously, forcing them into silence once again.

"Harry Potter is dead, and you're nothing but a silly girl!" he retorted. "You will bow before me—"

"I will never bow to you!" Lucy broke through Voldemort's magic again, refusing to keep quiet.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort screamed, and he pointed his wand at her.

Pain—pain like she'd never felt before. She felt her knees slam into the ground as she collapsed from the pain, but she gritted her teeth, refusing to cry out—refusing to give Voldemort the satisfaction.

"Stop!" Lucy heard Jeremy shout from the crowd.

The pain receded, quicker than Lucy thought it would, and she fell forward, catching herself with her hands. Her chest heaved as she panted, trying to get air back into her lungs. She looked up at Voldemort, glaring at him before saying, "You're going to have to kill me—but you knew that already."

Voldemort smirked down at her. "Soon, there will be no more Potters in the world."

"No!" Neville ran forward, holding his wand aloft.

But Voldemort was quicker. He waved his wand, and there was another bang. Neville was stopped in his tracks, and he fell to the ground next to Lucy.

"Neville…" Lucy whispered.

"And who is this?" Voldemort asked. "Who else has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

"It's Neville Longbottom, my Lord!" Bellatrix Lestrange stepped forward from the crowd of Death Eaters; she seemed to be vibrating with excitement. "One of the boys who have been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"

"Ah, yes, I do remember," Voldemort said with a feline grin as Neville attempted to push himself back to his feet. "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?"

Neville stood and said, "So what if I am?"

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock," Voldemort said. "You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

Lucy got to her feet, standing silently next to Neville.

"I'll join you when hell freezes over," Neville spat. Then he threw a fist into the air and yelled, "Dumbledore's Army!"

The crowd behind Lucy and Neville cried their support.

"Very well," Voldemort said. "If that is your choice, Neville Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your own head be it." He waved his wand once more, and Lucy tensed—but Voldemort didn't point it at her or Neville.

Far above them, one of the castle windows exploded, and everyone looked around in alarm. Floating towards them was a black-colored object. It flew into Voldemort's hand, and he shook the item out: it was the Sorting Hat.

"There will be no more sorting at Hogwarts School," Voldemort announced. "There will be no more houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?" He pointed his wand at Neville, who became still. Then he forced the Sorting Hat onto Neville's head.

"No!" Lucy shouted, lunging towards Neville, but Voldemort turned his wand on her. She was blasted off her feet, landing and skidding across the lawn a few feet away.

"Lucy!"

"I'll deal with you later, Lucy Jones," Voldemort sneered at her as she struggled to sit up. Then he turned back to Neville and said, "Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me."

The Sorting Hat burst into flames, and Neville was soon on fire, as well. The fighters behind him screamed in horror, and Lucy sprang to her feet, adrenaline pumping through her.

Then there was a roar. Lucy stopped short, staring at the new group of people barreling towards the castle, screaming and wands held out. At the front were Charlie Weasley and Professor Slughorn. Lucy's heart soared: reinforcements had arrived.

At the same time, Grawp had appeared, seemingly looking for Hagrid. The giants that were on Voldemort's side shouted and pounded their fists against their chests before running at Grawp.

Arrows flew from the forest through the air towards the Death Eaters; the centaurs had come to join the battle. The Death Eaters scattered, trying to protect themselves from the centaurs and the new fighters behind them.

Lucy ran to Neville and reached him just as the Sorting Hat's flames went out. She grabbed the hat and pulled it off Neville's head, finding her friend unharmed from the fire. Suddenly, the hat became very heavy in Lucy's hand, and she looked down to see what looked like a handle poking out of the fabric. Neville took hold of it and pulled out a long, silver sword: the Sword of Gryffindor.

Lucy's and Neville's eyes met. "The snake!" Lucy hissed, and Neville nodded only once.

Voldemort, having been distracted by the new threat to his followers, wasn't looking at them. Nagini had uncoiled from his shoulders and slithered to the ground. Neville raised the sword over his head and brought it down on the snake. His strike cut clean through, and the head of the snake went flying.

"Yes!" Lucy cried, but only Neville could hear her over the battle screams happening all around them. They had killed the snake; Voldemort was now vulnerable.

"HARRY!" Lucy heard Hagrid shout from nearby. "HARRY—WHERE'S HARRY?"

Lucy looked around quickly and saw that Harry was no longer lying where Hagrid had set him. Lucy's heartbeat increased. Was he alive? Where was he?

The battle surged forward, pushing everyone back into the castle. Lucy turned back to the fighting, throwing up a Shield Charm before a curse could get to Neville.

"Where is your wand?" Lucy asked him, and he shrugged.

"Lucy!" Jeremy was pushing towards the crowd to get to her.

When he reached her, she grabbed his hand. "C'mon!" she said. She took Neville's other arm and tugged him behind them. The three of them shuffled into the castle with everyone else, with Jeremy protecting the other two. They followed the crowd into the Great Hall, where the dead bodies had been moved to protect them from the fighting.

Then Lucy saw Dolohov, and she dropped both Neville's and Jeremy's wrists. She veered off towards the Death Eater—towards the man who had killed her uncle. She heard Jeremy call after her, but all she could think of was revenge.

"Dolohov!" she shouted savagely.

The man in question turned around and grinned maniacally. "Lucy Jones," he said. "How the Dark Lord will reward me when I deliver you to him… dead."

"Try it, then," Lucy snarled.

There was a beat as they stared at each other, and then the duel began. Dolohov was tough—Lucy hadn't been naïve enough to think that it would be an easy battle—but she was fighting for more than herself. She was fighting for Remus and Tonks, Fred and Colin—everyone who had paid the ultimate price that night.

A few minutes later, Dolohov screamed as Lucy sent him crashing to the floor. His head hit the stones hard, and he was still. Lucy heaved a sigh of relief before turning in alarm when she heard a shout from nearby.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" Mrs. Weasley was charging towards Bellatrix, who had been dueling against Ginny, Hermione, and Luna all at once. "OUT OF MY WAY!"

The duel that began was fierce and intense. Everyone around them stopped to watch, and Bellatrix, who had been laughing at first, glared as she had to double her efforts. Mrs. Weasley was precise in her anger, and soon enough, she had the upper hand.

"No!" Mrs. Weasley snapped at a few students who tried to assist her. "Get back! Get back! She is mine!"

She and Bellatrix were the only ones fighting—besides Voldemort, who was dueling with Kingsley, Slughorn, and Professor McGonagall. Everyone else stood along the edges of the Great Hall.

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" Bellatrix sneered. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

Lucy felt anger swell in her at Bellatrix's taunting, but Mrs. Weasley wasn't having any of it.

"You will—never—touch—our children—again!" she yelled.

Bellatrix let out an exhilarated, manic laugh—and it reminded Lucy of Sirius laughing at Bellatrix before she killed him. Curses flew out of Mrs. Weasley's wand so fast, and then Bellatrix missed one. The jet of light pierced the witch in her chest, and the woman stumbled back two steps, the surprise etched on her face. Then she fell to the floor, where she moved no more.

The rest of the fighters let out joyous noises, while Voldemort screamed in fury. He waved his wand, and Kingsley, Slughorn, and Professor McGonagall went flying through the air. Voldemort turned his wand on Mrs. Weasley—

"PROTEGO!"

Everyone froze as their eyes darted around for the source of the spell. Lucy's heart leapt; she thought she recognized the voice, but she scolded herself—there was no way—

Suddenly, standing before Voldemort, was Harry, sweeping his Invisibility Cloak over his head.

"Harry!" Lucy cried, and she could hear others around her echoing the same shock.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry warned everyone. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Voldemort glared at Harry, but Lucy could see that he was a little bit frightened. "Potter doesn't mean that," he growled. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," Harry answered. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good."

"One of us?" Voldemort repeated with a cold, jeering laugh. "You think it will be you, do you? The boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" Harry shot back. He and Voldemort had slowly started to circle one another. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight and still survived—and returned to fight, again?"

"Accidents!" Voldemort insisted. "Accidents and chance—and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women—and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," Harry said calmly. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people—"

"But you did not!" Voldemort interrupted.

"I meant to," Harry said. "And that's what I did. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

"You dare—"

"Yes, I dare," Harry said, his voice loud and strong. "I know things you don't, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

Voldemort didn't speak for a moment before asking mockingly, "Is it love again? Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death—though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork. Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter—" Lucy hissed under her breath as Voldemort went on, "—and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So, what will stop you dying now when I strike?"

"Just one thing," Harry said simply.

"It if is not love that will save you this time, you must believe that you have magic that I do not," Voldemort said. "Or else a weapon more powerful than mine."

"I believe both," Harry told him, to the surprise of everyone in the hall.

Voldemort laughed coldly. "You think you know more magic than I do?" he asked. "More than I—than Lord Voldemort—who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it, but he knew more than you," Harry said. "He knew enough not to do what you've done."

"You mean he was weak!" Voldemort spat. "Too weak to dare—too weak to take what might have been his—what will be mine!"

"No, he was cleverer than you," Harry said. "A better wizard—a better man."

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!" Voldemort screamed.

"You thought you did, but you were wrong," Harry said.

Lucy's eyebrows furrowed, curious to hear what Harry meant.

"Dumbledore is dead!" Voldemort shouted. "His body decays in the marble tomb on the grounds of this castle! I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"

"Yes, Dumbledore's dead," Harry agreed with a nod, "but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying—chose it months before he died—arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

"What childish dream is this?" Voldemort asked.

"Severus Snape wasn't yours," Harry stated. "Snape was Dumbledore's—Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?" When Voldemort didn't answer, Harry went on, "Snape's Patronus was a doe, the same as my mother's—because he loved her for nearly all of his life—from the time when they were children. You should have realized—he asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"

Lucy's jaw had dropped open. Snape had loved her mother? When had Harry learned this?

"He desired her—that was all," Voldemort scoffed. "But when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women—of purer blood, worthier of him—"

"Of course, he told you that," Harry said, "but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her. He's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"

"It matters not!" Voldemort cried. "It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's—or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them, as I crushed your mother—Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!

"Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy—I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it. I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand—the Deathstick—the Wand of Destiny—is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, it did," Harry admitted. "You're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done.… Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle.…"

Lucy could see Voldemort's face contort into shock. "What is this?" he asked.

"It's your one last chance," Harry went on. "It's all you've got left.… I've seen what you'll be otherwise.… Be a man—try—try for some remorse.…"

Voldemort snarled, "You dare—?"

"Yes, I dare," Harry interrupted, "because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle." He paused, and when Voldemort said nothing, he continued, "That wand still isn't working properly for you, because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."

Voldemort insisted, "He killed—"

"Aren't you listening?" Harry cut in. "Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated—the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him—because it had never been won from him!"

"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!" Voldemort laughed darkly. "I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you?" Harry said with a shake of his head. "Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it—using it—doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard.… The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died—someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will—never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance."

There was stunned silence throughout the crowd. Most of them had no idea what was going on—Lucy included.

"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy," Harry announced.

Voldemort, again, looked shocked—but it was wiped from his face quite quickly. "But what does it matter?" he asked. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand; we duel on skill alone—and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy—"

"But you're too late," Harry sped on. "You've missed your chance—I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him." He held up the wand gripped in his hand. "So, it all comes down to this, doesn't it? Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does—I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

Another beat of silence. The sun outside had finally peaked over the horizon, sending morning rays into the Great Hall. Voldemort and Harry stared at each other, their wands pointed at one another. Then—

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Two jets of light flew towards each other and collided between the wizards who'd fired them—

And Voldemort's jet of green light bounced back towards its caster—

And then the Elder Wand went flying out of Voldemort's hand, twirling in the air towards Harry—

And Voldemort's spell hit himself square in the chest, and he toppled over backwards, hitting the stone floor with a thud.

Lucy released the breath she'd been holding, staring at the body that had once been Voldemort. He was dead—dead—really and truly dead. Lucy felt goosebumps rise all over her skin as a smile spread across her face; she looked up at her brother, who was still standing in the middle of the room, the Elder Wand now clenched in his fist.

Lucy took off running as the Great Hall erupted is elated screams. She reached Harry at the same time as Ron and Hermione, and the three of them wrapped their arms around him. Then more and more people joined them, until they were surrounded by everyone who had been fighting.

And Lucy couldn't help the happy tears that ran down her face, because it was over—finally, it was over.

~LJ:TW~

The house tables were restored to the Great Hall, so that everyone could sit down and have some breakfast. Friends and families grouped together, celebrating the victory and mourning their losses at the same time.

Lucy sat with Jeremy, Sally-Anne, Oliver Rivers, Daphne, and Jake. The Weasleys were sitting nearby, along with some other members of the Order. Neville was a few feet away, as well, still hanging onto the Sword of Gryffindor.

"Lucy," a voice hissed.

Lucy turned her head but saw no one.

"It's me," Harry whispered—he was under his Invisibility Cloak. "Come with me."

Lucy turned around and kissed Jeremy on the cheek. "Be back in a bit," she said. Then she got up from the bench, and Harry threw the Invisibility Cloak over her; Ron and Hermione were there, as well.

They left the Great Hall and went up the main staircase. Lucy, Ron, and Hermione let Harry lead the way.

First, Harry got Lucy caught up to speed on what happened after she'd left them earlier that evening. He told her how they'd tracked Voldemort down and saw him order Nagini to kill Snape. Then he told all three of them everything he'd seen in the memories that Snape had given him. Lucy learned that Snape had known her mother from before they'd started at Hogwarts, and that Snape had always loved her, even when he joined up with Voldemort.

Lastly, Harry explained that when Voldemort attempted to kill him as a baby, the Dark Lord had accidentally made Harry into a Horcrux. That was why Harry had had the connection to Voldemort, and why he had to meet Voldemort in the forest. Voldemort had killed the piece of his own soul that had been attached to Harry's, which is why Harry hadn't really died.

It was a long story, taking them all the way to their destination—the Head's office.

Harry looked down at the gargoyle that usually guarded the entrance—it was lying on the floor. "Can we go up?" Harry asked.

"Feel free," the statue said feebly.

The four of them passed the gargoyle and went up the stairs. When they reached the top, Harry pushed open the door, and they entered the office.

All around them, they heard a burst of applause. The occupants of the paintings in the room—the past headmasters and headmistresses—were cheering loudly and dancing around in their frames.

Harry stepped forward towards the painting hanging right behind the Head's chair. There was the portrait of Dumbledore, and he was beaming at Harry. Harry held up his hands, and the rest of the paintings quieted.

"The thing that was hidden in the Snitch," Harry began slowly, looking only at Dumbledore, "I dropped it in the forest. I don't know exactly where, but I'm not going to go looking for it again. Do you agree?"

"My dear boy, I do," Dumbledore said. "A wise and courageous decision, but no less than I would have expected from you. Does anyone else know where it fell?"

"No one," Harry said. There was a pause before he added, "I am going to keep Ignotus's present, though."

"But of course, Harry," Dumbledore agreed with a smile. "It is yours forever—until you pass it on!"

"And then there's this." Harry held up the Elder Wand.

Lucy stared at it with uncertainty. When Harry had originally told her about the Deathly Hallows, he'd mentioned that it had a very long and bloodied past. She glanced at Ron and Hermione, who were both staring at the wand, as well.

"I don't want it," Harry stated firmly.

"What?" Ron exclaimed. "Are you mental?"

"I know it's powerful," Harry said, "but I was happier with mine. So…" He grabbed the Mokeskin pouch from around his neck, reached inside of it, and pulled out his wand. It had very nearly snapped in half. Harry put it on the desk and waved the Elder Wand over it, muttering, "Reparo."

The wand snapped back into one piece, and red sparks came out of the end. Harry picked it up and smiled faintly; Lucy knew that meant it had worked.

Harry turned back to Dumbledore and said, "I'm putting the Elder Wand back where it came from. It can stay there. If I die a natural death like Ignotus, its power will be broken, won't it? The previous master will never have been defeated. That'll be the end of it."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Are you sure?" Ron asked, staring at the Elder Wand.

"I think Harry's right," Lucy said, and she saw Hermione nodding her agreement.

"That wand's more trouble than it's worth," Harry commented. "And quite honestly, I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."

~LJ:TW~

Lucy went back downstairs, while Harry, Ron, and Hermione went up to Gryffindor Tower to get some sleep. As much as Lucy wanted to rest, she wanted to see someone more.

Jeremy was standing in the entrance hall at the front doors, which were flung wide open. He was looking out at the morning sky. He turned to Lucy when he heard her approach him.

"I almost can't believe it," Lucy said, stepping into his side. "I don't know what's going to happen next."

"Me, neither," Jeremy said. He pressed a kiss on top of Lucy's head and then added, "We should really get some sleep—want to come with me? See what the Slytherin common room looks like?"

"I suppose we don't really need to follow the rules today, do we?" Lucy giggled. "Yeah, all right."

"I love you," Jeremy said softly with a smile.

"I love you, too," Lucy replied, beaming at him.

Jeremy took her hand, and the two of them walked together into the new world.

~LJ:TW~

A/N: I had to have Lucy stand up against Voldemort. I had to do it. I know Ron is supposed to be the one who says "He beat you!" but Lucy needed to have her moment.

I also felt like Lucy needed to duel Dolohov, for Remus and Tonks.

ALSO. This is how the final confrontation in the movie should have happened. In front of everyone, with Voldemort falling over, not disappearing again. How the movie portrays it is probably the worst part of the films... except for maybe the awkward hug between Voldemort and Draco.

Just the Epilogue to go now.