Disclaimer: I in no way, shape, or form own Harry Potter or his world. Rascal Flat's "I'm Moving On" Is also not mine.

I'm Moving On

I looked at the demon that stood before me. His red eyes glaring strait through me, planning the destruction of my soul as if he were Satan incarnate. Just as the prophecy said, he and I stood alone. But it never said that we would stand alone on a land tainted with blood. Bodies of the dead scattered around us becoming nothing more than obstacles to avoid during a duel. Mr. Weasley was closest to me, Ron would never be the same. Who would provide for the family. Who would keep them strong?

Tom and I were exhausted. It had been three days since this battle began. We were trapped in a phoenix cage, but there was no song to strengthen me. It was time. The final battle had come. This was what my life was made for. Sudden understanding came to me.

I've dealt with my ghosts and I've faced all my demons;

"It started with my parents you know, Tom, then you followed soon after." My voice was low and even, almost hypnotic to my surprise. We were both just standing there, at a temporary stale mate, each trying to regain strength while looking for weakness in the other. Tom sneered, but did not make a move to attack. He had long since stopped yelling at me to stop using his given name. It took too much energy. Three days just being awake can take a lot out of you. I should know. I have had experience not sleeping. Dueling for three days left us exhausted mentally, physically, and magically.

"Then came Quirrel, remember that? You against me, old times, Tom." Funny, before now I never realized that I killed him. He died by my hands. I had blood on my hands in my first year. Someone I had killed directly. Funny how I do not feel horror over that. Empty. I wonder if I will ever feel anything else.

"And then I went up against your old diary turned flesh. No wand, but the memory within it is gone." And the centuries old basilisk…I need not mention it. I laughed mirthlessly. "My old defense teacher lost his mind that day as well."

"And what do you expect to get by your senseless babble? Anger, pity, or dare I say an apology?" Tom said as he threw a cruciatus at me. I sidestepped the curse easily. Practice does come in handy.

"Then Cedric, the first time I felt guilty, but just another in the line of dead in my life." I do not know why I was telling him this, it was as if I was figuring it out as I was speaking out loud.

"Sirius' death hit me hard, I lost my ability to interact with people." I had started to see a pattern at that time, those who are close to me die.

"I care nothing for these people, their deaths have only improved the company people now keep. I am here to kill you not listen to you whine!" Riddle spat.

"Lupin was next, remember him? He took my place in death, another time you failed to kill me, Tom." I looked him in the eyes. My mind was clear, he could not see into me, but I found him transparent. His whole being practically shook with rage. I had struck a nerve.

"Luna, followed by her father. Mrs. Weasley is not dead, but her mind is gone. Did you have fun destroying her Tom? It was not only the mudbloods that you went after. Anyone you could, you killed. Mr. and Mrs. Diggory met their son's fate two years after Cedric left this earth. I can't even keep track of all who died in the recent battles." I continued calmly. I looked over at Mr. Weasley, grief finally filling the emptiness inside. I was fighting for him. I was here for all the fallen, but even more important…the people left behind.

Finally content with a past I regret.

Voldemort took my lack of attentiveness as a sign of weakness and tried to put me in a body bind. I cast a shield spell like it was second nature, but the effort left me breathing hard. I did not know where I found the strength to keep standing, let alone fight. I focused me thoughts yet again and kept talking. The almost one-sided conversation was keeping me awake, it was clearing my head.

"It has been seventeen years, Tom. Seventeen years and I just now figured out my reason for living. Have you figured it out yet?" I brought my eyes to his, the few spells he had cast had further depleted his magical reserves. I could see him trying to reign in his emotions to conserve strength. He was growing weaker, I could almost see the effect my calm speech was having on him, the fact that I was not reacting to his comments was unnerving him. I could not even find satisfaction in this. This is just how things were. What was there to feel?

"I was born to kill. I live to bring demise. Those who are close to me die, Tom…and here you are trapped with the bringer of death. Can't you see it?" My voice faded to a whisper. "See it in my eyes. The brilliant green of your favorite curse."

There it was, I felt it in my very being. A break in his defenses, not big enough for me to attack, but enough to pry open further. I felt warmth in the cold around me. His weakness was giving me power.

I've found you find strength in your moments of weakness

"You marked me Tom, you chose me as your killer. That is what the prophecy said. I am the only one who could kill you." I change my language to parseltounge to further drive home my next statement. "You made me your equal"

It was time. I knew what to do. Like a snake I stuck. It was not the killing curse, it was not even a curse I ever thought I would use. This curse drains the evil out of a certain location. Since it did not need to aimed at a person, it was unavoidable. Why would I never use it? First off, it took a lot of energy, it would almost drain what magic I had left. More importantly, it only last for a few moments. Since there is nothing to take the place of the darkness, the evil quickly retakes its host. I had something to replace it.

Voldemort was on his knees. What little humanity he had left was shaking in horror over what he had become, but I did not have the time to savor the moment. I looked over at the man who had become like a father to me. The father of my best friend. The dam of my emotions broke. I aimed my wand at the broken dark lord and whispered a spell. I felt all the grief, pain, anger, and lost love blow through me like a raging wind, then it was gone. Voldemort cried out as he was impacted with the onslaught of emotions. I then reached out further. The misery this man had caused saturated the very earth. It was easy to tap into. I sent the suffering that this man had caused others back into him. I looked straight into his eyes. They were no longer red, but a light green widened with pain and regret. Then it happened. What was remaining of his heart could not handle the pressure any longer and his soul shattered and he fell to the ground in a heap. The phoenix's cage faded into nothing. I lowered my wand and stared at the shell of my old enemy. The snakiness had left his appearance. What lay before me now was nothing more then an old man. An old man who had been hurt one too many times in his childhood. Someone who had gone through experiences far too similar to my own. What I saw was myself, what I could have become. I could not hate the dead. I felt pity. I felt release.

For once I'm at peace with myself.

I looked around, and the fullness of my emotions returned to me. I was standing on a hill, alone, bodies of the dead surrounding me. I have seen this before in my nightmares. It is the curse of being the boy-who-lived, everyone else seems to die.

I've been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long.

I left my hill and walked around. What is good, what is evil? When everyone is willing to die for their beliefs, who is left to live them?

Slowly made my way back to Tom Riddle I bent down on my knees and removed the wand from his limp hand. Pausing to look into his open eyes, I sighed with regret at what the man had become. I felt pain in my heart for the boy who was lost to the evil. After a moment I stood up and walked the short distance to Ron's father and removed the wand from his hand as well. Staring down at the still figure, again regret coursed through my very being. This man had been my father in all but blood. All I wanted to do was sink down beside him and hold him in my arms. He looked so peaceful. What I would not give to lay down beside him and join him in oblivion. It was not my time. I still had to face the rest of the world. I think I would rather battle Tom again. I barely had enough energy to remain standing, but I refused to stay in this place a moment longer.

I'm moving on.

AN: I must say, that was fun to write, I hope you enjoyed reading it. I love the song that I am writing it to. Rascal Flat's "I'm Moving On" I hope I did the song justice. I have this story planned out for the remaining verses, but I would appreciate it if I received some response to let me know if the storyline so far in interesting enough to continue. If it is, I would love a Beta for the remaining Chapters. Thanks for reading!