The Longbottom Sacrifice

by GreyWine

What would have happened without Neville Longbottom? One-shot.

The Longbottom Sacrifice

August 27, 1981 - 8:00 AM

Longbottom Cottage

Augusta Longbottom appeared among the firs outside her son's home, straightening her robe after the abruptness of the Apparition process. She quickly walked through the grove of trees that surrounded the small cottage – and stopped as soon as she passed the last evergreen.

The Dark Mark glowed in the sky, the emerald projection nearly sending Augusta to her knees. Instead, she pushed herself forward, hurrying to the back door and into the kitchen.

Every Sunday Augusta visited Frank and Alice and every Sunday there was a kettle on the stove, heating for their tea. This particular Sunday, however, there were only the shattered pieces of Alice's favorite cup on the tile floor. At the sight of the shards of violet-glazed porcelain, Augusta pulled her wand from her robe pocket, holding it in front of her with a slightly shaking hand.

Moving out of the kitchen, Augusta noticed the living room lamps were still on, the sun streaming through the bay window making their light unnecessary. Her heart plummeted as she saw the front door hanging in splinters on its hinges, the remains of the oak smoldering.

"Frankie?" Her voice wavered, the walls echoing the syllables back to her. The ongoing silence in the cottage pained her more than Neville's cries when he woke from his naps. "Alice?"

The knees that had held strong since arriving at the cottage caught the hardwood as Augusta turned to the stairs. Her son, her wonderfully brave son, lay crumpled on the stairs, his wand inches from his splayed fingers. His blue eyes searched the sky, and Augusta longed to see the vibrant shine that graced his pupils every time he laughed.

Pulling herself up from the floor, she reached for her son. There was a small stain on his left shoulder, evidence of Neville's dinner. Frank's sleeve was in tatters, his knees were both bloodied. The fact that Frank wasn't wearing shoes while his socks were mismatched would normally have sent Augusta through the roof. Instead, she wished she had appreciated her son's small eccentricities when he…

Augusta brushed Frank's light brown hair from his eyes, took a deep breath, and moved up the stairs, hoping. "Alice?"

The second story was just as quiet as the ground floor. The newel post was blasted to splinters and Augusta looked to the nursery. The door was partially shut, what Augusta took to be a good sign as that was how Alice and Frank usually kept it when Neville was sleeping. She lit her wand as she stepped forward, the nursery curtains dark enough to keep out any and all intruding sunlight.

The image in front of Augusta Longbottom at that moment would forever be burned in her memory.

Alice, blonde hair falling around her face, lay on the floor, her gaze alarmed, frightened. Her wand was still clasped firmly in her hand. It looked as though she had collapsed, her legs bent at strange angles.

She was right in front of Neville's crib.

For a moment, Augusta convinced herself that her grandson was just sleeping. But she knew this wasn't true. Whenever Neville fell asleep, he always had a tight hold on his stuffed Niffler, the plush animal stiff from its owner's drool. Somehow, the Niffler was still in Neville's hand when he woke, no matter how much time had passed.

But the Niffler sat in the corner of the crib in which Frank placed it every morning. With a sharp cry, Augusta reached for her grandson, pulling his yellow blanket around his tiny body as she held him in her arms. The tears wouldn't stop falling as she rocked him, her only grandson, surely more powerful than even his father. She didn't care what the midwife had said – Neville had magically tightened his blankets within an hour of his birth. It was a mark of a great wizard to show such early magic.

And Voldemort had taken that from him.

September 1, 1991 - 10:30 AM

King's Cross Station

There was no difference to the crowd on platforms nine and ten than there was to the crowd on platform nine and three-quarters. Except, perhaps the cargo.

"Sweetheart, you're sure you have everything? Did you remember to pack Atticus's treats? Do you have plenty of robes?" Lily Potter knew she was fussing but she couldn't help it – her oldest was going to Hogwarts.

"Yes, Mum. Dad helped me pack last night before he left. He promised to send me all the details about his mission when he got back, too." Harry's eyes, so similar to her own, gleamed at the idea of such action-packed news.

"Remember what I said about telling people about what Dad writes to you: you can't trust anyone. After – after what happened to Uncle Sirius, we have to be extra careful, okay? I tried to tell your dad that he shouldn't be sending you letters with so much secret information, but he insists. He knows how much you look forward to it."

"Don't worry, Mum. Dad taught me the Concealment Charm and got me some invisible ink – he's taught me his best secrets!" Harry grinned his enthusiasm.

"Yes, dear. So, now I have to tell you to be an extra good boy at Hogwarts." Lily pulled him into a tight hug and kissed his temple.

"Mum…" Harry whined, looking at the people around them on the train platform.

"I'm serious, Harry. I know you'll want to explore the castle just like your father when he was in school. But your dad is always gone on missions for the Order, and, with your brother on the way, I don't want to have to deal with any letters from Dumbledore or your Head of House." Lily settled her hand on her protruding stomach. Two more months. "And please set a good example for your sister. You know Ava looks up to you. I don't want her pulling the same acts of mischief in a few years. And I promised Molly that I would tell you to look after Ron."

"Yes, Mum."

"Now, give me one last hug and go make me and your father proud."

September 1, 1991 - 7:00 PM

Hogwarts - Great Hall

"Potter, Harry." Professor McGonagall finally called his name. She gave him a small smile before the hat fell over his eyes.

"Ah, what have we here?" a voice muttered in his ear. "You're ready for some fun, aren't you? Oh, you seem to know exactly where you want to go, and who am I to stop you? You'll do well in GRYFFINDOR!"

September 1, 1991 - 8:00 PM

Hogwarts - Great Hall

"My dad's a Muggle; Mum's a witch. Bit of a nasty shock when he found out." Everyone laughed at Seamus's anecdote as they tried to picture his dad's reaction.

"I was raised in Muggle school. I didn't know what I could do was magic until Professor McGonagall explained everything to me in July. Then it all made sense."

"Wait, your parents still let you come? Most Muggles, when they learn about our world and what's happening in it right now, they decide to keep their kids at home." Ron was shocked as he looked at the bushy-haired girl across the table.

"They thought about it, but they decided that the best decision was for me to learn to control my magic. I've told them that I'll keep them updated with any news. They'll bring me home if they find it too dangerous."

"Ron, it's not just the Muggles that are worried. The Patil twins are still being homeschooled even after our dads tried to make their case about Dumbledore." Harry nodded to the girl – Hermione, he thought. "The Sorting Hat was right to put you in Gryffindor, though. You're pretty brave for coming here during a war. Even my parents considered keeping me in Godric's Hollow."

"What!?" Ron yelled, food flying from his over-filled mouth.

"Ronald!" Percy Weasley corrected, shooting his younger brother a glare from down the table.

"You weren't going to come to Hogwarts?" Ron said, slightly quieter to appease his brother.

"It was just after Uncle Sirius was captured by those Death Eaters. Dad was really upset, and the Healers were worried Mum was going to lose the baby because of the stress. They were on their guard more than usual, so the subject came up."

"I can't believe this…" Ron looked absolutely flabbergasted. "When were you going to tell me?"

"I didn't think it was important after they decided I was coming anyway."

October 31, 1992 - 8:00 PM

Hogwarts - Second Floor Corridor

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened! You'll be next Mudbloods!"

"I'd like to shove him into an empty classroom and show him a few secrets of my own. Dad's been teaching me a few higher-level defensive spells and I've been itching to practice."

"Harry, Malfoy's not worth an ounce of your magic," Hermione said, staring up the water-logged corridor to the sight before them. "Poor Mrs. Norris."

"It's just a cat, Hermione," Ron said. "And Filch's cat, to boot. Better off without her, if you ask me."

December 7, 1992 - 7:00 PM

Hogwarts - Gryffindor Common Room

"Malfoy's the one opening the chamber. Has to be. My dad told me they've suspected his father of being a Death Eater since the war first started. Lucius was in Slytherin when my dad was at Hogwarts – acted out against Muggle-borns even then. There are others, too, of course. Crabbe and Goyle – both their dads were sent to Azkaban a few years ago. One of them died after a few months, though. My point is: why isn't anyone doing anything about this?"

"They can't, Harry. There's no proof." Hermione, always the voice of reason.

"Just that Malfoy's a foul git that hates Muggle-borns. Or did you forget about the night Mrs. Norris was found? The school, the ministry, needs to act fast. How many attacks have there been now?"

"Three Petrified, two dead, not including Mrs. Norris," Hermione mumbled. After the latest attack, Harry had refused to let her wander alone. He even made her come to Quidditch practices now that he had made Seeker. She didn't like the bodyguard mindset Harry had forced himself into, but Harry knew she was scared, and he didn't want to see her lying in the hospital wing like his other classmates.

May 21, 1993 - 1:00 PM

Hogwarts

It had been seven weeks since Hermione had decided to go to the library rather than watch the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff match. It had been seven weeks since she had been found outside the library, a dog-eared copy of Hogwarts: A History under her arm and a small mirror between herself and Penelope Clearwater. It had been seven weeks since she had been Petrified.

It had been seven weeks since Harry had started tailing Malfoy.

It had been six weeks since Harry had asked his dad for help.

It had been five weeks since James Potter had sent his son a gift tied to Atticus's leg. Three words: Accio Marauder's Map.

Harry knew that the Summoning Charm wasn't taught for another few years at Hogwarts. He also knew that his mother and father shouldn't have been expanding his at-home curriculum to several years ahead of his level. Still, Harry was wary of his possible failure as he spoke the spell in the Gryffindor common room the night Atticus had visited.

To his surprise, a very worn-looking parchment soared into his lap from the dormitories. Where it had been, Harry wasn't sure. And what it was, he wasn't sure. It was the Marauder's Map, of course, but how to operate his dad's latest secret, Harry also wasn't sure.

He had heard the word Marauder often enough at home to know that the Marauders were James and his Hogwarts friends. Harry took the blank parchment to his dormitory, pulling the thick curtains closed around him.

"Help me, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," Harry whispered, tapping his wand to the map. Remus, Peter, Sirius, and James. Half of them were dead. One of them had gone Dark.

Moony suggests that the magic words be spoken - only then will help be given to manage your mischief.

Wormtail assures you that such mischief will be worth the struggle to manage the map.

Padfoot wonders what kind of no-good could be worth such struggle, though. No-good? Harry questioned.

Prongs instructs the young one that the only way to find out is to solemnly swear it. Thanks, Dad…

So, Harry had to solemnly swear…what? "I solemnly swear…" He thought again at what Sirius's alias had offered. He had been so well-spoken that the term "no-good" had to have been a clue. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Ink filled the parchment. Harry was marked just where he was, Gryffindor Tower. Not too far away was a pacing Professor Dumbledore. "Hopefully he's trying to figure out how to stop these attacks…" Harry mumbled. And there was Malfoy walking into the dungeons and disappearing into a blank space labeled as the Slytherin Common Room. Apparently, James and his friends hadn't had the means to sneak into the Slytherin lair to map out that particular area.

Harry had thought that he had the perfect weapon against Malfoy. He could prove that Malfoy was the one setting Slytherin's monster loose, whatever it was. The only problem with Harry's plan was that there hadn't been an attack since Hermione's. This was very much against the usual attack pattern. Harry wasn't complaining, but he had been so sure that he would be able to avenge those that had died while providing closure for those that would wake after receiving the Mandrake Restorative Draught. He wanted Malfoy gone before Hermione woke up.

And finally, after five weeks of studying the Marauder's Map, hiding it in his schoolbooks, Malfoy moved off his schedule. Instead of walking to Charms, he was walking away from his classmates and toward the second floor. "Gotta run, Ron." He took off, leaving his fellow Gryffindors behind to Lockhart's whims.

Harry saw Malfoy with a bubble labeled "Moaning Myrtle" in a girls' bathroom. And then he disappeared. Harry jumped into a full sprint as he careened through the corridors, leaping over the trick steps when necessary. He threw himself into the bathroom even though a sign on the door read "Out of Order." He panted as he scanned the bathroom.

"What are you doing here?" Moaning Myrtle was very much a ghost as she floated above a toilet, arms crossed and lips turned in a pout.

"I'm looking for…a friend. I think he was here just a moment ago."

"Oh, him?" Myrtle smiled. "He left."

"He didn't leave through the door, though, did he?"

"Well, no, silly. Not yet."

"Not yet? How else do you get out of here?"

"He uses the sink."

The sink? Harry moved to the line of sinks, bending low to examine each one. The only difference he could see was a fine etching of a serpent on one of the taps. Slytherin's mascot was a serpent, of course, so was this a clue to the Chamber of Secrets?

"Myrtle? What does he do when he's here?"

"Draco? Well, we talk while he writes in his diary until he sort of seizes up. Then he uses the sink. He hisses a lot, usually."

"He hisses?"

"Like this." Myrtle made a poor imitation of a snake's threatening tongue.

Harry moved back to the sink marked with the serpent. After several tries and many swears, he nearly gave up on imitating a snake. And then the sink responded, revealing a massive pipe leading down into the school's center.

"He's usually a bit quicker about it," Myrtle quipped over Harry's shoulder.

May 21, 1993 - 2:00 PM

Hogwarts - Chamber of Secrets

"You'll never be as great as Dumbledore!" Harry yelled at the shadowed teenager in front of him.

"Dumbledore's reputation has been destroyed by my memory. I have whittled away the integrity of the Ministry of Magic with the life of a twelve-year-old. I am and will always be more powerful than Dumbledore."

"Then how is it that I'm not quaking where I stand?"

"You're ignorant of my identity. I have lived in your past, your present, and my future. I am Lord Voldemort."

"Even if you are Voldemort, you've yet to break down the forces of good that protect Hogwarts castle. You've not been seen for years. You're still threatened by Dumbledore. You were threatened by a baby."

"Enough! I am the greatest wizard of all time."

"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of all time!"

At Harry's words, the cry of a magnificent bird flew through the chamber, dropping what Harry recognized as the Sorting Hat at his feet.

"How kind of the old fool to send you a parting gift. I'm sure they will be a suitable defense against the greatest magical beast in existence." The teenager turned to the statue of Salazar Slytherin and hissed effortlessly, something Harry couldn't say he could do.

In an act, not of desperation, but of fear, Harry yanked the Sorting Hat over his eyes. Harry didn't want to face the creature until he was ready. It had Petrified. It had killed. And then he heard the glorious sound that was the boy's screams as he urged the bird to stop whatever it was doing. Lifting the hat, Harry saw a huge snake, exactly the size of the skin he had passed on his way to the chamber. He immediately let the Hat resettle on his nose – he didn't know enough spells to save himself. But that didn't stop him from trying to search his mind for a solution.

With a sharp pain to his head that echoed down his spine, Harry was provided such a solution. A ruby-encrusted sword had struck him on the top of the head, the Sorting Hat delivering just what Harry had ordered: a way to live.

Harry stood, his knees shaking, but his arms steady as he raised the sword in front of him and ran. The serpent rose before him and he diverted his feet, swinging the sword to make contact with the side of the serpent's head. The blade ran through to its hilt, the tip of the blade protruding through the serpent's mouth. With a lot of difficulty, Harry withdrew the sword and stepped back to watch as the serpent writhed and finally grew still.

For good measure, or maybe just for spite, Harry strode over to where Malfoy lay motionless, to where the black diary the teenager was so fond of lay. With a glance and smirk directed at the memory, Harry plunged the sword into the cover, the leather melting and the pages burning. A light smoke filled the air, mingling with the boy's screams as he disappeared, and Malfoy woke.

May 21, 1993 - 3:00 PM

Hogwarts - Headmaster's Office

"The evidence against your son is clear, Lucius. He must be punished for his actions. Without him, four students wouldn't be dead and another eight wouldn't be waiting to be revived. This is a Ministry action, Lucius. As of today, Draco is no longer a student at Hogwarts."

Harry wasn't sure why he was still present, but the fact that he got to witness Minister Cornelius Fudge expel the person who had put Hermione in the hospital was enough to make him want to stay.

"You'll hear about this, Fudge. As will you, Dumbledore. Come along, Draco."

"One moment, Lucius." The man's hand gripped his son's shoulder before turning at the minister's request. "I'll be needing Draco's wand."

"There will be no such confiscation until a formal hearing has been scheduled." And with that, the two blondes exited the headmaster's office.

July 18, 1993 - 9:00 AM

Potter Cottage

"Damn Malfoys. They're untouchable." James Potter threw the copy of the Daily Prophet onto the table. "The Wizengamont accepted the boy's excuse of being possessed by Voldemort. Naturally, it's because of the noseless bastard's influence. He'll be in control within a year, wait and see."

September 9, 1993 - 7:00 PM

Hogwarts - Headmaster's Office

"Thank you for seeing me, Harry. I have some important things to relay to you - before it's too late."

"Sir?"

"You, of course, know of Neville Longbottom?"

"Yes, sir. The Longbottom Sacrifice. My parents were friends with his parents."

"Have they told you anything further?"

"No, sir."

"Then, I hope they will forgive me for disclosing this information to you." Dumbledore paused. "There is a lot of speculation concerning the reason Voldemort sought out the boy and his family. Only one person knows the full truth. That person is me." Harry could only stare at the headmaster. "A prophecy was made to me before either you or Neville were born. It concerned Voldemort and an unnamed boy who would have the power to vanquish him. His parents would have defied the Dark three times by the time of his birth in late July. Neville Longbottom met these requirements. But so did you.

"I told Frank and Alice as well as your own parents to go into hiding. They all obliged. Yet somehow Voldemort was able to find the Longbottoms. As far as Voldemort was concerned, the prophecy would now go unfulfilled. He assumed he had discarded the threat to his existence.

"I do not know exactly why he chose Neville over you. Perhaps it was due to his status as a pure-blood, perhaps there were other factors. What I do know is this: the prophecy stated that Voldemort would mark the boy as his equal. There is nothing to the Longbottom Sacrifice that dictates any mark of equality – only that of inferiority.

"I've been watching you, Harry. And I mean no offense at this comment, but you are a great deal similar to Voldemort – not in the idea that you'll one day threaten to mar the wizarding community with a dictator's stance, but with your stubborn viewpoint. By allowing you to live and grow with your parents, your power as a wizard and as a moral human being has grown. But you have been marked by the war, have been settled with a need for revenge as most of the Light has. You want Neville Longbottom to not have died in vain and you want Sirius Black to be avenged. Voldemort has always and will continue to act on similar premises – revenge for the Muggles and Muggle-borns he views as destroying his superior way of life. This is how you are alike, but not how you are equal. I have a theory that Voldemort is pursuing a means of immortality. He gave you a chance to live. In that, you are equal. By not killing you, he gave you life just as he plans to do for himself."

"But, sir? What does this mean?"

"I believe one thing, Harry, and it is this: I don't believe the prophecy will go unfulfilled. I believe that the prophecy was always meant for both you and Neville. Neville is dead, but the sacrifice he made will not be forgotten, especially by those who have been most affected by the war. It is now up to you to continue the fight against Voldemort, in memory of Neville and all those lost to this needless war."

August 7, 1994 - 9:00 AM

Potter Cottage

Sitting at the breakfast table, Lily Potter was desperate to have a breakfast that didn't require mass clean up afterward. Harry and Ava were pelting each other with grapes while Jack cackled at the scene, his own food forgotten on the highchair tray before him. And James was oblivious to the entire situation, too busy scanning the Prophet for clues of Voldemort's coup, a scenario he thought was imminent. But he needn't have read the paper to know that.

A white beam came streaking into the room, the shape of a phoenix forming out of the energy. Its beak opened and the voice of Albus Dumbledore spoke. "The Ministry has fallen to the Darkness. His name has been placed under taboo. Hogwarts has been reorganized. We are no longer safe in waiting." The phoenix faded just as fast as it had arrived.

James exchanged frightened looks with his wife, his oldest son, his daughter. Even Jack could feel the energy in the room change. "I hate to say it," James sighed. "But I told you so."

August 15, 1994 - 10:00 AM

Throughout Great Britain

Dear student,

Under direct order from Minister of Magic Pius Thicknesse, attendance at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is now mandatory. Failure to arrive on the Hogwarts Express on 1st September will result in serious and/or fatal consequences.

September 1, 1994 - 7:00 PM

Hogwarts - Great Hall

When the headmistress stood to address the hall, Harry felt Ava's leg begin to shake next to his. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, though knowing it would do little good. This wasn't what a first year's experience of Hogwarts should be.

Hem, hem. "Welcome, students! Before we begin our traditional start of term feast, I would like to share with you my overwhelming joy of becoming your headmistress. There is nothing more rewarding than ensuring a well-rounded, Ministry-approved education for all young wizards and witches. Together, we will develop a wonderful, powerful magical community that is free of those who make us weak." Harry wanted to vomit as he stared at the pink-clad toad standing where Albus Dumbledore should have been. Instead, he was sitting between Professors McGonagall and Slughorn, his blue eyes somehow still smiling.

"To celebrate the wonders of magic, it is with incredible excitement that I announce that a tournament will be held this year at Hogwarts, showcasing the talents of one student from each of the four Houses. The Ministry has been diligently working out the details and has provided me the requirements. They are as follows: Champions must have at least one full year of magical training before entering. Champions must be of either Half-blood or Pure-blood status. All students who pass these requirements are expected to enter their names for selection. Once selected, students are obliged to see the tournament until its end. There are no exceptions to these guidelines." Headmistress Umbridge smiled wide. "Good luck to you all."

October 31, 1994 - 8:00 PM

Hogwarts - Great Hall

"From Gryffindor: Harry Potter!" Professor Dumbledore looked every bit his age as he looked to Harry.

"From Hufflepuff: Cedric Diggory!" Professor Sprout hugged her student tightly.

"From Ravenclaw: Marietta Edgecombe!" There was a collective gasp in the hall - her family had been murdered just weeks prior, and now she was being forced to compete in a dangerous tournament.

"From Slytherin: Adrian Pucey!" The Slytherins were the only House to cheer for their champion.

November 24, 1994 - 3:00 PM

Hogwarts Grounds

Hem-hem. "As the only Champion to successfully slay their dragon, Mr. Pucey receives a perfect score of one-hundred points. Mr. Potter, having maimed his dragon sufficiently to warrant eventual death receives seventy-five points. Mr. Diggory Stunned his dragon, disabling it only, and will receive twenty-five points for this task. Miss Edgecombe has received no points but is expected to make a full recovery."

December 19, 1994 - 6:00 PM

Potter Cottage

"Will Dad be back for Christmas?" Harry asked his mother.

"I suppose that all depends on his mission, but he told me before he left not to expect him. He thinks he's finally found the Death Eater responsible for Uncle Sirius's death – knowing your father, he won't stop until he's gotten his revenge."

February 24, 1995 - 11:00 AM

Hogwarts Grounds

Harry felt sick as he pushed himself to the surface of the Black Lake. Between the frigid water and the task itself, he wasn't sure he would make it through without vomiting his breakfast. Finally, his head broke through to fresh air and he reversed the Bubble Head Charm, swimming to the waiting judges. He glared at Umbridge with as much malice as he could muster and tossed the head of the merperson at her feet. She smiled at the paling green features next to her pink shoes.

"Well done, Mr. Potter. And I believe this is one of the council members! What an achievement! Although, Mr. Pucey returned with the chief's head."

Hermione wrapped Harry tightly in a blanket, hugging him before moving back to stand between Colin Creevey and Penelope Clearwater. As a Muggle-born, this was her new place at Hogwarts – behind the scenes and silent. It was the only way she was able to continue her education. It was the only way she was allowed to live.

June 24, 1995 - 12:00 PM

Hogwarts Grounds

They were setting them up for failure, now. There was no way any of the Champions could return in one piece after a night in the Forbidden Forest while hunting a centaur. There were only three left anyway – Marietta had only just recovered from her burns when a merperson had speared her through the stomach. Her body had floated to the surface, covered in sharp teeth marks, two days later.

For the third task: Champions are to enter the Forbidden Forest and return with the body of a centaur. You have twenty-four hours.

Harry knew that the judges were expecting him, Pucey, and Cedric to each pull a centaur's carcass from the depths of the Forbidden Forest after somehow surviving their arrows, hooves, and teeth. Hagrid had warned Harry about their strength. But Harry had a plan. So, however, did both Pucey and Cedric. Cedric's plan was to wander through the dense trees and return after the twenty-four hours with "no luck." Pucey, however, had his wand drawn – Harry had seen him practicing the Killing Curse on rabbits at the forest's edge weeks ago.

Harry's plan was to play the loophole. The rules didn't specify a living or dead centaur – simply the body. Harry meant to civilly interact with the centaur herd, promise magical protection through the Protego Charm, and walk out of the forest, his task complete. He didn't want to kill anymore – he still woke in the night to the sounds of the merperson pleading for his life before Harry magically slit his throat.

June 24, 1995 - 10:30 PM

Deep in the Forbidden Forest

The sound of an arrow flying through the air preceded the sound of it sinking into the bark of the tree inches above Harry's head. He immediately raised his hands in surrender, his wand shining faintly around the foliage.

"I don't want to harm you."

A powerful hand gripped his throat in response.

June 25, 1995 - 12:00 PM

Hogwarts Grounds

Hem, hem. "Although he didn't fulfill the requirements of the third and final task, as the only living Champion, Mr. Harry Potter has been named the overall Champion of Hogwarts school."

No one cheered.

Harry made it all of two minutes before he vomited yesterday's breakfast.

August 23, 1995 - 1:00 AM

Potter Cottage

"I got her, Harry! I got her. A Stunner right to the chest and she was gone. I gave her more mercy than she gave old Padfoot, but all I can say is good riddance. She's gone! Bellatrix Lestrange is dead!"

May 3, 1996 - 10:00 AM

Hogwarts

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, but I need to borrow Harry."

Harry followed a silent McGonagall through the corridors until they reached her office. Upon entering, Harry was immediately met by the shaking arms of his mother. Tears streamed down her face and onto his own where their cheeks met.

"Harry, he's gone."

The pot of Floo powder on the mantel exploded, Harry's first case of accidental magic since he was three.

September 2, 1996 - 8:00 PM

Hogwarts - Deputy Headmaster's Office

Dumbledore warily rested his blackened hand on his desk. "Harry, I think we both know that our time of planning is coming to an end. Every day, the Dark Lord's forces draw nearer to the castle. They want me dead just as we want him dead. However, we now know that while my death is finite, he will come back unless we destroy all his Horcruxes. I leave it to you, Harry. Once I'm gone, the fate of Wizard Britain is in your hands."

November 17, 1996 - 6:00 PM

Hogwarts - Deputy Headmaster's Office

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is hereby sentenced to execution for his crimes against the Dark Lord, including conspiracy and intent to kill." Malfoy looked over his shoulder. "How did that sound?"

"Bloody brilliant, boy. But could you hurry on with it?" Harry recognized the man with Draco as Barty Crouch, Junior – known Death Eater and accomplice of Bellatrix Lestrange. He had been James's last target, the target that had managed to out-wit James when it mattered most.

"Oh. Yeah. Right." Draco turned back to the kneeling wizard before him. Dumbledore's silver beard touched the rug beneath him. His blue eyes never left Draco's as the young Death Eater, possibly the youngest, spoke. "Avada Kedavra!"

November 17, 1996 - 6:45 PM

Hogwarts - Kitchens

"We have to go. Now." It had taken Harry what seemed like an eternity to find Hermione in the castle. He should have known she would be in the kitchens. The house-elves had been watching out for the Muggle-borns since Voldemort had taken control.

"What? Why?" She closed her book to give Harry her full attention.

"Why? Because I've just watched Malfoy murder Dumbledore. You-Know-Who'll be at the castle in no time. We have to leave before he starts executing everyone without pure magical blood."

"What about Ron?"

"He's a pure-blood, even if he doesn't act like it. He'll survive whatever's coming."

Hermione said no more. She took the hand Harry offered her and sprinted after him through the entrance hall and into the twilight.

November 18, 1996 - 9:00 PM

Potter Cottage

"Are you sure this will work, Harry? We're taking a pretty big risk." Hermione's hands twisted in her lap. Up until their third year, she hadn't shown any anxieties. It was the war. It was sending her parents to America. It was the Cruciatus every time she spoke in a class taught by one of the implanted Death Eaters.

"Mum will never speak our location – she herself is under serious protection. The Fidelius will work, and we only need it long enough to work out what the other four Horcruxes are and where he's hidden them."

November 20, 1996 - 10:30 AM

Abandoned Granger Home

Harry pulled a wooden box from his trunk and released the latch to show Hermione the crystal vials inside.

"And Dumbledore just gave you these? And his Pensieve?"

"Not to mention the sword."

"Well, let's see some memories."

April 5, 1997 - 12:00 PM

Seaside Cave

"Harry, no. I can't let you drink that!"

"Hermione, you do realize that whatever this is, it will surely do horrible things to me. And we both know that I don't have the heart to force you to drink it. There was only one good thing to Umbridge – she hardened you. You will make sure we get that locket."

April 5, 1997 - 5:00 PM

Abandoned Granger Home

"R.A.B. Who's R.A.B.?"

May 13, 1997 - 4:00 PM

Abandoned Granger Home

"That's Ravenclaw's diadem?" Harry and Hermione were studying a page of a book, their noses inches from the image Hermione had found.

"It's a likeness, at least. There may be slight differences to the actual object and the illustration."

"But it generally looks like this, right? Because I've seen it. The Come and Go Room in fourth year – when we were trying to find a quiet place away from Umbridge and it gave us that cavernous room? It was there. We turned past it – I remember."

"The Come and Go Room was destroyed by the Carrows fifth year after Fred and George set up shop there. They set fire to it."

Harry considered this. "Regular, flaming fire?"

"Not the way Fred explained it to me. It sounded like a powerful curse."

"Think we're safe to cross another Horcrux off our list?"

July 21, 1997 - 1:00 PM

Grimmauld Place

"Okay, so Mum told me that the best way is to get Kreacher talking about Regulus and not to mention Sirius at all if we can help it." Harry turned the ornate doorknob and stepped over the threshold into twelve Grimmauld Place. "Kreacher?"

A moment later, the sound of shuffling footsteps came from the far end of the hall. "It's the Potter boy grown."

"Yes, Kreacher. I was hoping to talk to you about Regulus." Harry took a few steps forward.

"Master Regulus was a good Black, never broke my mistress's heart like his brother, no."

August 27, 1997 - 11:00 AM

Diagon Alley

"I don't like this, Harry."

"You and I both know that the Malfoys enjoy a luxurious lifestyle. According to my dad's contacts, one of the family visits the Gringotts vault every Tuesday without fail. We have the Polyjuice for the middle-aged couple we took to get supplies last week – we're doing this." At that moment, Harry spotted the silver-blonde hair he was hoping for. "And young Master Malfoy owes me a favor after second year."

Harry and Hermione followed a few yards behind Malfoy until he reached the steps into Gringotts. He held the door for them, and Harry had to force a "thank you" from his lips. At least his voice wasn't his own.

The two parties were assisted by goblins beside each other, and, when Griphook was called to assist "Mr. and Mrs. Wright," they offered to share the cart with "this nice young man" to save the goblins time. Draco obliged much to Harry's surprise. He had already been aiming his wand in the blonde's direction. He pocketed it, though, assuming he would need it later. There was no way Malfoy would just pass them Voldemort's Horcrux.

They plunged underground further than Harry had ever gone before – the Malfoys were obviously one of those families with the incredibly large, incredibly secure vaults. Griphook leaped from the cart and unsealed the vault. Hermione's cue. Griphook fell to the ground, stiff as a board. Harry coughed as the goblin made contact with the ground and moved at just the right angle to block Draco from noticing.

"An impressive vault, young man. Many family heirlooms of much pride, I'm sure."

"Yes, sir. I've been instructed on all the contents' history." Draco seemed proud of such an accomplishment. Harry certainly couldn't blame him – the vault was quite large.

And then Harry saw it. Just as the portrait of Helga Hufflepuff portrayed. It was the exact object over which Tom Riddle had lusted. "Could you tell me about that particular article there," Harry suggested, pointing to the gold cup.

Malfoy's features darkened as he looked where Harry had pointed. The blonde swallowed. "That is not of the family – it is being kept for an acquaintance."

"Yeah. Tom Riddle. Got it." Before Malfoy could react, Harry had knocked him back with the Full-Body Bind Curse. "Well, Hermione, if we needed any further confirmation that we were right, we got it."

Ten minutes later Mr. and Mrs. Wright waved good-bye to the "charming Malfoy heir" as he rubbed his eyes in the sun, wondering if the ride in the Gringotts carts were worth the gold if they were going to mess with his head as they did. He couldn't even remember filling his father's leather pouch with gold.

May 1, 1998 - 6:00 PM

Abandoned Granger Home

"Only the snake to go, then, if Dumbledore is right. It's our last obstacle before I can finally fulfill this damn prophecy."

Hermione suddenly ran forward and flung her arms around him. She took a shuddering breath, and Harry feared she was going to cry. "You're a great wizard. You'll beat him in the end to free us all. I'll take care of the slithering Horcrux. It's time the Dark was shown some light."

May 2, 1998 - 5:00 AM

Hogwarts Grounds

"You have nowhere to go but with me. Realize that, and you may have the opportunity to live another day. Now, who will stand with me and rise against the Muggles who wish to destroy us?"

The only noise was the wind that brushed over the school grounds, inviting the warmth of spring to the early morning gathering. Spring was meant as a renewal, and the breeze refreshed the minds of those standing against the man who had destroyed their world. With an accompanying gasp, one defiant stepped forward.

Harry Potter.

"Ah, and who have we here?" Voldemort's thin mouth upturned in a grimace.

"That's the Potter boy, my Lord. Fancies himself a protege of Dumbledore." The face of Barty Crouch, Junior sneered beside his master. Harry tried to remain calm as he looked into the eyes of his father's killer. "The Carrows say he preaches about the Longbottom boy, how he didn't die for nothing." Laughter flitted across the crowd of Death Eaters and Voldemort enthusiasts.

"That's right. His death was not in vain. He died for all of us. Every single one of his should-have-been classmates has been affected by your reign of terror. And we've kept track. So, when you fall here today, it will be for every person you've slaughtered, every lie you've told, every family you've ripped apart. It will be for Neville Longbottom, the boy whose sacrifice will not go unfelt. Because you made a mistake…Tom." The common name sent a collected whisper through the air. "You made a mistake. You should have chosen me as your target. But you went for the obvious choice. Take the powerful pure-blood and be rid of him."

"I destroyed the threat against me." Voldemort's words held no power as he spoke his defense.

"Did you? Because you and I both know you're feeling pretty threatened at the moment." Harry hoped that he was right in his assessment. "Did you mark Neville Longbottom as your equal? He's dead, he didn't get to see his second birthday, and everyone knows you're afraid to die."

"How?"

"How do I know the prophecy? How do I know the prophecy has yet to be fulfilled? I've heard it, studied it, tried to understand its every word. And you have yet to understand. You chose wrong."

"I weighed the consequences of my choices, Potter. I chose correctly."

Harry shook his head. "Tell me, why did you move to kill a baby instead of waiting to see the power each option held?"

"I have no reason to explain my actions to you."

"No, you don't. But you are curious, so I'll explain it to you. You were scared. You felt the Order, the Aurors growing closer. So, you wanted insurance. If you killed the person who would one day defy you as his parents had done, you could relax for a while. And you did. You let everyone think maybe you were done. There were a few abductions, a few murders, but not like there had been. Then you had Draco Malfoy set the Basilisk on the Mudbloods. That was fun, I'm sure. But you went under. You hid."

"I did not hide!" Voldemort's wand rose threateningly to point at Harry's chest. "I am not fearful of the future, for mine is infinite."

Harry continued, ignoring the ruins of the wizard before him. He needed to buy more time. "According to Dumbledore, the prophecy allowed for two possible boys born at the end of July. Frank and Alice Longbottom defied you three times, as did my parents. It was me or Neville. You chose to kill Neville. But you didn't have all the pieces, Tom. You didn't realize that by killing him, you enabled me to continue on, to fight against you. Look at me, and you'll see the likes of Tom Riddle, the boy who came to Hogwarts prepared to rule the world. That was me, Tom, because I had parents to tell me that the world was my oyster. I was your equal from the start, but you had no idea when you set out to kill an infant. Neville Longbottom should have lived. Maybe then you could have lived as well. You should have killed me, Tom. And maybe you wouldn't be standing here about to die." Harry hoped beyond hope that Hermione was ready, wherever she was.

"I am as immortal as a born mortal can be, you fool! I have delved into the dark magic, have taken control of my death. You have no power over me."

With enormous relief, the first notes of Beethoven's fifth whistled over the grounds and fell on Harry's ears. Anytime now. "You can tell you were an orphan, Tom. And even if I didn't know, I would at least guess that you were an only child. You never had the opportunity to play hide and seek. My sister and I could play for hours, finding new places to sneak off to in our house, in our garden. And now my brother plays, too. My point, Tom, is that you never learned to hide. At least not well."

"I have no need to hide. I am the one that seeks and destroys."

"I've been seeking and destroying myself, Tom. Deadly trinkets, they were. But I've nearly found them all. You see, when Malfoy was "taken" into the Chamber of Secrets, I witnessed it all. I never trusted him for a moment. Followed him until I saw you, knew that I needed to destroy a book to destroy your memory. So, I bantered with sixteen-year-old you just as I'm doing now. And I succeeded. You had attacked one of my best friends. I, like you, Tom, enjoy revenge.

"I believe it was the scorched diary that gave Dumbledore the idea that you had been dabbling in ancient, dangerous magic. And suddenly he was searching for hidden things. He found them, too. For someone who doesn't care about people, you are very sentimental, aren't you?"

"That's enough!" Voldemort shouted.

Harry continued. "Your grandfather's ring. The locket once owned by your ancestor, your House founder, Salazar Slytherin. And precious heirlooms from two other House founders. But that didn't compute. Dumbledore had a theory, you see. The most magical number is seven. You had even asked Professor Slughorn if it were possible to split your soul into seven pieces. Six objects were hidden somewhere. I've only found and destroyed five."

"And you will never succeed in taking the last," Voldemort said, his red eyes flashing.

"If you say so. But I think I forgot to mention that I've not been searching alone."

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, you're a right bastard…" Hermione ripped off James Potter's Invisibility Cloak, the Sword of Gryffindor gleaming in her right hand. With the skill of a practiced swordsman, she stepped forward, meeting the opened mouth of the great snake and slicing its body in two. "…and a mortal."

Voldemort roared in fury and anguish, turning his wand on Hermione. Harry was quicker, casting a Shield Charm between the two. Hermione wasn't about to die on his watch.

"Don't make another wrong choice, Tom," Harry said. "Try me."

A second roar sounded. And then they were dueling.

It took all Harry had to remember every charm, every hex, every curse that his mother, father, McGonagall, Flitwick had taught him. He was forced to play the defensive but managed to throw a bit of offensive magic into the mix when he was able.

Voldemort could duel, Harry realized. He had never been on the receiving end of one of the wizard's spells. But Harry could also tell that Voldemort was getting weaker. The rapid-fire that had first caught Harry off guard was slowly dissipating. It was time to show Voldemort the consequences of his poor decision sixteen years ago. To Harry's relief, Voldemort was only throwing flimsy shields, yet still calling for his Death Eaters to stand down. Tom Riddle's age was finally showing. His stubbornness would be his downfall.

And then Harry realized something.

He had known it would come to this, hadn't he? He had known for years, ever since Dumbledore had explained the prophecy that connected Harry with Voldemort. He had to kill him. He had to kill him for Neville.

He needed only one spell, one well-placed spell to finish him. And at this point, the Stunning Spell would easily rip through Voldemort's shields.

With all his power, with all his might, Harry focused his wand over Voldemort's heart, or at least where the heart was meant to be. "Stun the source of blood flow and you'll never have to speak an Unforgivable Curse," James Potter had instructed him so long ago. It had been how his dad had finally killed Bellatrix Lestrange. It had been how he had finally avenged Sirius. But it was also the reason he was dead.

Harry's nonverbal command streamed out of his wand with more power than he had anticipated. The red beam of energy coursed through the air, splitting apart Voldemort's shield, and colliding into the wizard's chest.

The sun split out of the clouds as Voldemort fell, lifeless, to the ground. For a moment, silence settled on the grounds until, almost as one, Death Eaters and their companions ran for the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. Not many escaped, however, as with as much might as the Death Eaters showed fear, the defenders of Hogwarts handicapped them, sending spell after spell into the massive retreat.

Harry felt a pair of arms wrap around him and he suddenly had a mouthful of brown curls. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of Hermione's embrace and the cheers of the victorious.

The battle was won.

Neville Longbottom's battle was won.