Edited 20th February 2014 to remove review responses and superfluous author's notes.

When I said "one of those OCs" – this is what I meant. I no longer have any idea exactly what I was thinking when I wrote this chapter, anyway.

15. Finality

He had no idea how he managed to cross the field that quickly, but the fact remained that he had, and that he now stood before his best friend's dead body and a triumphantly glowing Lucius Malfoy. Daniel was shaking with anger. He was going to kill – no, death was too good for him. He wanted to bind Lucius down and save him for the Dementors to kiss.

Malfoy looked at him, laughing. "What's wrong?" he asked, mockingly. Then he looked down at the warm body by his feet and said, "You're upset about him? Well, all's fair in war." Looking at Daniel's incensed expression and the hurt that ran deep in the cool blue eyes, he sneered, "Did you love him, Fletcher?"

Daniel did not grace him with a reply. He just raised his wand, prepared to extinguish the older Malfoy for good.

"Avada Kedavra."

As Lucius crashed down, Daniel turned. It had not been he who pronounced the sentence of death. His eyes widened with shock as he saw Draco Malfoy, his grey eyes filled with loathing, staring down at the dead body of his father. His wand was out. His breathing was accelerated. The body on the floor was all too obviously his doing. Daniel stared. He had never thought that Draco would have the strength.

"There, father," he muttered, sardonically. "That's what I think of you and your Lord, and your whole damn attitude. I had enough. Blaise was worth twelve of you, you disgrace to the name Malfoy."

Daniel had never seen such venomous hatred, and it surprised him so much that he forgot to cry for Blaise. It took him a few moments to notice that the fighting was at a standstill. Voldemort stood alone in the middle of a circle of the remaining Death Eaters and faithful students. He was looking up, smiling faintly, at the assorted ranks of the DA.

Harry Potter looked down at the devil below, his teeth grinding with pure rage. He still did not know where Ron was. If his friend was dead, then someone was going to pay dearly. Some detached part of his mind was surprised that he was not afraid to be facing the Dark Lord for what might be the last time, but he was too far gone for that now. Fear had turned to anger, and only a fool would have antagonised Harry at that moment.

Voldemort laughed up at him. "Seen enough death, Harry?" he called. "Why not come down here and finish this? Give yourself to me, and no one else need die. If you resist, why, then it will be your fault when everyone and everything you love is destroyed."

Daniel knew that feeling. The only thing at Hogwarts that he had ever truly valued was gone, and he had been deprived of his revenge. He started to edge forwards, pushing gently through the dumbstruck crowd to get a better view. Potter, the foolish hero, was descending from the Ravenclaw stands, wand in hand, obviously prepared to duel the Dark Lord to the death.

"See, Voldemort," the boy said, his green eyes flashing with suppressed anger. "I will duel you. Just as the prophecy said, we will fight and one will conquer."

The Dark Lord looked a little startled at the mention of this prophecy. Daniel smiled faintly. It looked as if this was something that Potter knew that his nemesis did not. But the boy was a fool to imagine that a sixth year student could destroy the most powerful dark wizard that the world had seen for a long while. Even if that sixth year student had banished that same dark one while still a baby, it was practically a suicide mission.

Harry felt resolute and strong. He had noticed the flicker in Voldemort's emotionless face when he had mentioned the prophecy. It was an advantage, albeit a slight one. He knew what the prophecy had said, while his enemy did not. So he could make the Dark Lord believe what he liked about it. He steeled himself for the duel, not forgetting the last time they had attempted to fight man to man. He would not be so lucky this time. There was no Portkey waiting to take him away now.

"Duel me?" Voldemort's voice was mocking. "But you forget, Harry; our wands will not work against one another. There is no way that we can fight. Unless…" he looked around, and his eyes fell on Daniel. Muttering something under his breath, he turned to the Head Boy, and said, "Mr. Fletcher, you know who I am, don't you?"

Harry watched in horror as Daniel looked up at the Dark Lord, a bland, flat look in his blue eyes, and replied, "Yes, Master."

"Good," Voldemort appeared to be smiling, although with his distorted face and his callous red eyes, it was impossible to tell. "Well then, boy, hand me your wand, so that I can kill this boy and we can win."

Daniel's wand hand hung loosely at his side. In fact, his whole body seemed unnaturally relaxed. He lifted his wand and began to walk towards the Dark Lord. Harry could see something odd in his eyes, as if some inner part of him was fighting against what he was doing. And then it all made sense to Harry. He realised exactly what was going on, and he had no desire to see Daniel do something that his true self was going to regret.

"Daniel!" he shouted. "Don't! It's only the Imperius, you can fight it!" The Head Boy turned his gaze towards the Boy-Who-Lived, and the last vestige of his independent mind flickered once again. Harry got the distinct impression that Daniel was fighting it, but he was not strong enough to throw it off completely. Then he stopped dead, halfway between Harry and Voldemort, looking from one to the other, bewildered.

"Mr Fletcher!" snapped the Dark Lord. "Give me the wand!"

Daniel had felt the curse lift as if a large and heavy blanket had been lifted off of his senses. What was going on? He had been about to give his wand to Voldemort. He looked at the Dark Lord, whose vicious eyes bored through into his mind, filling him with utter hopelessness. He was fighting for a lost cause. There was nothing he could do. Whatever happened, the Dark forces were going to win. The despair flooded through him as he stood there, transfixed by the terrible eyes.

"The wand, Mr Fletcher," growled Voldemort, losing his fragile grip on his patience.

"Give me a reason," Daniel said, sharply, his wits returning steadily all the while.

"You are on the losing side, Fletcher, can't you see that?" the Dark Lord replied, abruptly adopting his persuasive side. Daniel did indeed see that, as the red orbs took over his vision and his mind. It was useless to resist any longer. "Now, give me that wand so I can finish this and we can all go home."

Daniel steeled himself. "Very well." Harry groaned. He had thought that Daniel Fletcher had had more courage and honour in him than to do this, even if he was a Slytherin. It seemed that no one was what they seemed to be. He had seen Draco Malfoy kill his father. The world was turned upside down. People he had thought to be evil were not, and people he had trusted were too easily misled.

"But I beg leave to finish it myself," Daniel finished, lowering his eyes from those of the Dark Lord, as if indicating respect. Voldemort just laughed. The sound incensed Daniel for some reason. He lifted the wand. "I will finish this. We can all go home. You can go to the only place that you could ever reasonably call home… I'm going to send you to Hell."

And with that, before the Dark Lord could react, Daniel recited the words of the third Unforgivable. Looking deeply into the red eyes, he watched as the green light blazed between them and hit its target. He looked on as the body of the most powerful evil wizard of his time collapsed into the grass of the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch.

He felt numb. Nothing was happening any longer. He didn't want to move. He heard the Aurors arrive, rounding up the remaining Death Eaters, but he didn't turn to look. He had just defeated Lord Voldemort with a single curse and the element of surprise. He had just done the thing that his aunt Sybil had told him that he would. He would be a hero. He would marry Kirsten and live happily ever after. And yet, despite everything, he stood apart and alone, wishing beyond anything that Blaise was by his side.