Be a Happily Ever After
Disclaimer: JK's characters and such.
Paddy's story as you can see by the boldness.
The only sound of the night was the soft bristling of damp fallen leaves as a young man's feet treaded across them. The boy was headed further and further into the graveyard, as if looking for something...or some one. But he was most certainly not there by accident. It was, of course, up to seventeen year old Harry Potter to have a final duel with the Dark Lord Voldemort.
It was the graveyard where the famous Lily and James Potter were buried—and as Voldemort hoped, the next Potter to go. 'How could a boy Harry's age, Harry's size, possibly conquer over the most powerful dark wizard of all time? This was simply a waste of the Dark Lord's time.' As most of his faithful death eaters pondered.
And alas, Harry arrived at the appropriate headstones—it was on Dumbledore's orders that they duel near the graves of Lily and James. Voldemort will be put away in front of them.
With a crack like a whip—a man, (or was it really a human?) with a flat, pale, snakelike face and red slits for eyes appeared out of thin air, behind the gravestones.
"Well, well, Harry Potter," He said in barely a whisper. "Come to be defeated by the Dark Lord again?"
After all the people he murdered, after all the grief he gave all the families of the victims—Voldemort can just stand there, no fear in the world of Harry being there. No fear that he is actually the one- who can finish him off completely.
"What do you mean, again?" Harry replied, hand clutched on his wand in his robe's pocket.
One year had done a lot of damage to the decent wizarding world. As the Ministry of Magic had denied Voldemort's return for an entire year—the dark side of the world seemed to have a head start. With the help of the Order of the Phoenix, however, the losses weren't as great.
Voldemort pulled out a slender wand, as if releasing a sword. "Shall we play?" He said, waving his wand a bit, impatiently.
Of course, Voldemort had had his losses also—though he showed no mercy for those lost. Lucius Malfoy, though in Azkaban, had gone mad with the worst memories he was forced to relive. And Wormtail, who had committed suicide, as he said, 'For the good of our world.'
"As always," muttered Harry. Not showing dislikes, or like, to his opponent. They bowed.
And at exactly the same time as Voldemort yelled, "Avada Kedavra!" Harry bellowed the same.
Instead of the Priori Incantatem kicking in, as Harry and Voldemort's wands shared the same core, the jets of green light hit each other, and bounced off each other. Voldemort and Harry were hit with there own curse.
With a flash of bright green light—both the Dark Lord and the famous Harry Potter were dead.
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