Whilst watching the Eurovision last night, I had more than a few shots to drown my sorrows about the UK's nul points score. Whilst watching it I had a little stab at this alternative throne room scene... (Sorry, I had to delete this and reupload it as I realised I made a few spelling errors in it)
Waiting in his throne room, the Dark Lord watched as two of the Agents dragged a stunned Hermione Granger from where she had been hiding out in a little village outside of Newcastle. Looking at her, he could see that she had been roughed up.
Leaving his throne, he knelt down beside her and looked at her face, her chocolate brown eyes bringing back memories of that night of passion.
Holding Hermione's hand, Harry looked up at the two Agents, casting a Cruciatus Curse. "I said bring her in, but I expressly ordered you not to harm a hair on her head," he said, annoyed with them. "Where's my son?"
"Dead my Lord. Granger wouldn't surrender him." The Agent that had been first to recover from the curse being cast at him. "Stebbins had to knock Granger out and then when the boy hit him, I reacted."
Harry stood up, towering over the Agent, fingering his wand. "Reacted? Reacted? I gave you express orders not to harm a hair on their heads and you reacted? I DON'T PAY YOU TO REACT! Avada Kedavra."
Both Agents fell down as the Dark Lord cast the spell at them. Waving his wand, he locked the doors of his throne room so nobody could enter.
Kneeling on the floor next to the one person he loved, he waved his wand over Hermione, casting a number of spells intent on healing her from the injuries that she had obtained at the hands of his Agents. As he cast the spells, he stroked her hair, remembering the good times that they had together.
Casting a reviving spell, he watched her stir out of her stunned state when suddenly he felt a hard slap on his face.
"YOU FOUL EVIL BASTARD. YOU HAD MY SON KILLED!" Hermione shouted, sitting up from her position on the stone floor. "YOU HAD MY SON-"
"Our son," Harry said, trying to remain calm. "Our son."
"JAMES MAY HAVE BEEN OF YOUR BLOOD, BUT HE IS NOT YOUR SON," Hermione shouted, hitting him with a right hook. "HE WILL NEVER BE YOUR SON EITHER AS YOU HAD HIM KILLED!"
"I never-"
"YOU HAD PEOPLE HUNTING ME DOWN FOR THE PAST 10 YEARS, HUNTING MY SON DOWN." Hermione continued, standing up, touching her jeans pocket, realising that she did not have her wand on her person. "AND BECAUSE OF THAT MY SON IS DEAD."
Harry stood up and tried to hold Hermione, but she pushed him backwards, slapping him again.
"THE DURSLEYS WERE RIGHT, YOU ARE A FREAK."
Harry froze when he heard her say that.
Freak. That's what he was.
Even Hermione thought that he was.
And she was right. He had personally killed Ron and Ginny because they wouldn't work with him. He had killed Neville and his wife, leaving their son an orphan.
He had tortured people and bent them to his will.
All the actions of a freak.
Collapsing to the floor, the Dark Lord Potter started crying, knowing that despite Hermione's actions, he couldn't hurt her. He couldn't kill her. Even if he wanted to, he knew he just couldn't
Watching as she stormed out of the Throne Room, Harry felt his magic start to crackle, start to expel, and he knew why.
Because he had let his emotions which he had mainly kept close to him due to Occlumency loose. And they were loose because of Hermione.
Dragging himself up, he headed to his private Quarters, Agents in the corridors finding themselves fleeing from the Dark Lord. Even Luna Lovegood, the one Agent he trusted most of all had a look of fear on her face as he passed her in the corridor.
Heading into his study, he sat down at his desk. As he did so, Harry started crying.
He had started crying about what he had become, crying about the loss of a son that he had never got to know, crying about what his parents would think about him.
And he cried for Hermione. How she would never be able to see her son pass his OWLs with straight O's, become star seeker of the Quidditch team, become Prefect and then head boy. How she would never be able to see James be able to graduate Hogwarts, get married, and be able to have a child of his own.
Reaching into his safe, he reached for a Potion that he had brewed only one vial of, one that he did not want to use at the time of creation, but would be the only option if the worse had come.
A Potion that would kill him, and only him.
Eventually, life left the Dark Lord Potter, and with it, the end of the Potter line.