Another Happy Ending?

Rating: K

Summary: Three years after the Golden Trio leaves Hogwarts, the Order of the Phoenix has the perfect opportunity to take down Voldemort.

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Harry Potter, except my own fantasies.

It had all come to this. Three years of fighting, three horrible years of death and destruction, hatred and despair. There had been no protection from Hogwarts; Hogwarts had fallen two years ago, a year after the famous trio had graduated. They had been there, actually. Had fought first in Hogsmeade, but were pushed slowly back until they were wedged in the doorway, fighting for more than their lives; fighting for their slowly vanishing memories. Tears for the loss of these memories had appeared on each face long before defeat was admitted and the remaining fighters salvaged.

There had been no protection from the restless spirits that had appeared first when he fought Voldemort, and then every other time from then on when they had gone head-to-head. They had tried; oh, how they had tried. His brilliant bushy-haired friend had spent hours poring over books with her lover, the werewolf, along with as many volunteers as could be found; but to no avail. The spirits, however powerful they may have been in those confrontations of two, could not help their old community survive.

There had been no protection from the public. The wizarding community was in shambles. The Muggles were mystified, for how could nice, solid houses be utterly destroyed overnight? Voldemort had caused havoc in both worlds, for not knowing why these houses were destroyed, the Muggles had gone into a panic, convinced that the Apocalypse was coming. The poor Muggle government did not know what to do, or who to turn to. Its army was exhausted from constant fighting with its neighbours; for in an effort to remain friendly with the United States, Britain had offered its army. The army which was now dwindled to an unbelievable few hundred.

There had been no protection from the Ministry. Much like the Muggle government, they knew not what to do. Whether to spend their resources fighting Voldemort on their own, support the Secret Order (The Order of the Phoenix) that was vaguely known throughout the land, or to cover up for all the murders and ruins. But when their mind was made up, it was too late. Their resources were not enough to cover up any of the three choices, then, and Fudge had managed not to choose and yet go after all three simultaneously. While these exact causes were not known to the public, it was accepted that Fudge was an idiotic buffoon. If it were not for the unfortunate and chaotic times, he would have been impeached and replaced by a more efficient leader.

All this had taken such a toll on the protectors. They were members of the Order of the Phoenix. And they were the wizards' last chance. No one else could out-spy, outfight, and outthink the Dark Lord quite like Dumbledore. Time after time he had engineered small but necessary victorious. Incredibly, he had managed to keep Harry Potter safe. The-Boy-Who-Lived was no longer a public icon. The wizards' could cry however much they may for him, but Dumbledore refused to let Harry fight. Until now.

It had taken weeks; no, months of planning, for the first few steps had been done before even Harry knew what he was to do. Dumbledore had a total of fifteen spies in the Dark Lord's army, who had begun to plant rumours that the Order of the Phoenix was planning a small gathering in Godric's Hollow. The gathering was to raise whatever moral could be gained, both for the members and the small number of good wizards and witches that still survived. The Death Eaters and their Dark Lord had laughed, almost not willing to believe that the foolish wizards would give up their most powerful weapon-Harry Potter-in order to try and raise a few spirits. But when their spies (half of whom were actually working for Dumbledore) continued to bring in such reports, the Death Eaters' own plan for crashing the party had been formed.

Severus Snape had kindly brought the plans to Dumbledore's study; he could even remember eavesdropping.

Harry was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was mostly what he did, when he wasn't being forced to study. Daily rigorous lessons had taken the spirit out of him; he existed solely to hunt down Voldemort. He was thin and his face gaunt. Harry no longer looked in mirrors. It hurt too much to see his father staring back at him, but with Lily's eyes no longer; it was the tortured soul of Sirius that seemed to stare out.

A sudden noise made him groan. The Weasley twins had taken to testing new- And unstable, he thought wryly-products in an unused grand bathroom of Grimmauld Place. It was the least heavily enchanted room in the house, and allowed the twins to check their bodies for any and all side effects of their products. The bad thing was that it was right down the hall from Harry's new room, and they often got carried away into the night. They were also forbidden to put a Silencing Charm around the door, as of last week, when they were found unconscious twice in the same day by their mother.

Harry swung his legs over the bed, walking the all too familiar path to the bathroom. He was ready to pound on the door, take out his frustrations a bit. His fist was mere centimeters from the door when he heard his name.

"…Harry should be ready by now, what with all the-"Another explosion from the bathroom cut off the rest of the sentence, but Harry had heard enough. He knew where it was coming from also. He half-walked, half-crawled in a mad scramble to a door down the hall, and pressed his ear to the crack at the bottom.

"Severus…" a deep sigh, "There is no more information you can bring me?"

"I have already told you, Dumbledore," Hissed Snape, and Harry could envision his beady eyes darting around the room, ever watchful, "this is all the information we received. The incompetence of the other members of the Order has caused He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to look at me more closely than before…it's quite a surprise I haven't been evicted, and as it is, my assignments have-"

"We know about your assignments," said another voice, and Harry's eyes narrowed upon recognizing Professor Lupin. "It's because of them that we haven't had a decent report in weeks." Remus' voice was hoarser than usual; the death of Sirius had taken such a toll on him…

Dumbledore cut in before the two men could start bickering. "No matter what happened, the situation is clear now. We know something of Voldemort's plan, and will plan our opposition on it. Are you sure, Remus," his voice softened, "that Harry is ready?"

"Harry," Remus hesitated and cleared his throat. "It isn't so much a matter of Harry's preparation as of circumstances. Could you guarantee that we'll get such a brilliant opportunity later if we pass up this one?"

There was silence for a long pause. Harry became acutely aware of his position and how compromising it would be if someone stumbled across.

"No." Dumbledore's voice was soft, but firm. Final. "We should tell everyone at once and begin forming our plans." A scrape of wood against flagstone alerted Harry, and he rose quickly but at Dumbledore's next words. "You two, of all people, know what is at stake if we don't succeed." The words had such a chill to them, that wasn't caused so much by their meaning but by the unspoken one.

Harry's hand trembled as he remembered all this. It had been only two months ago. Two months of what could almost be called brainwashing, all leading to this.

It was all simply enough, really. Harry had learned how to transform. He was now an Animagus. The meeting was held in a small inn, packed with observers. As it was all a set-up, there was no real need for speeches, but Voldemort's supporters naturally assumed that The-Boy-Who-Lived would be paraded and flaunted. Harry had gone to stand on the bar-top, holding a glass of Butterbeer with which to toast. That was when the Death Eater's had burst in. Sticking true to the plan, Remus had hurtled over to Harry and shoved him underneath the bar counter. There they were huddling now, with Tonks and Emmeline Vance. Looks had been exchanged, with furrowed brows. It was like moving through a dream for Harry. It was surreal to think that in a few short minutes, the future of the wizarding community would be decided. No one could be sure who would prevail. Harry had improved, of course….but he was unpredictable. No one could reach him anymore. He seemed to just move along in life, waiting for something. Whether it was victory against Lord Voldemort, or reuniting with family and friends in death, no one could say.

"Harry." A hoarse voice. His eyes snapped up to meet Remus' level gaze. If he felt fear or anxiety over what was going to happen, Harry could not detect it in his amber eyes. "It's time."

They gathered together, arms around their neighbours. Eyes closed, heads bowed. Harry could feel nothing but apprehension. It all depended on him…the other's parts would end as soon as they apparated behind the place Voldemort would be watching and distract the Death Eaters. He shut his eyes tighter.

Someone muttered as shouts, curses, and insults were flung from one end of the inn to the other. "Three…two…one…"

Harry felt a small lurch before his feet landed on solid ground again, getting the sensation of flying high up and then falling suddenly earthward again. If he had even been on a roller-coaster, he may have likened it to that.

Once they landed there was no time for thought. Harry landed with a jolt and immediately tucked in his shoulder and rolled. He came up in a crouch, wand pointed directly at Voldemort's unsuspecting torso. (And this, darling reader, is where the story started two and a half pages ago.)

Voldemort was half-turned toward him. The light from the now burning barn silhouetted him, showing a dark potent form with only red eyes visible, red eyes as wide as Harry had ever seen them, in reality or his visions. It was the perfect shot. There were no distractions, nothing to divert him from his cause.

And yet he hesitated.

The others saw this. Although they had readily engaged the Death Eaters, a sudden vehement hiss had caused every body there to stop for a moment in time and turn in horror, Phoenix Member and Death Eater alike. Remus saw Harry, saw him with a beautiful chance to kill Voldemort and end it all.

But it was not to be. Grief had won out in the end, etched on Harry's face.

Voldemort completed his turn, bringing a wand to bear on Harry. Remus saw this also, and with a shout, pushed away his opponent and made a dive in front of Harry. Out of the corner of his eye he could see other Order members doing likewise, sprinting or diving. This can't be happening, he thought. Months, years, lives have all been spent to bring this moment about…oh, please…

Harry saw the wand. He knew what was coming. A small thought flickered inside him, screaming at him for being too late, but it was soon pushed away. That wand meant death; death meant parents, friends, reunited.

"Avada Kedavra!"

He kept his eyes open until the end. That much he could do. And as he heard the deadly hiss of words, saw that green light for an instant before it took him over. Just before it hit, his mouth formed the words

"Sirius…"

Remus landed on the hard earth still a foot away from his target and watched the green light wash over the boy. He stared, horrified, as their last hope crumpled to the ground.

A/N: This is just a one-shot for now, I hope you liked it. Please review, honestly.

I've been experimenting on how to add more than one space between paragraphs, and how to indent the start; could someone please help? Whatever I tried just didn't work.