Note: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I know the actual owner…that'd be cool though.

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The Last Battle

Voldemort was getting weaker. He could tell in the way he was moving; slow and lazy, taking his time. Just like a professional; one who has a plan.

It seemed suspicious.

Only Harry Potter knew that this could actually be the end for the evil dark lord. The ongoing battle between the two had been constantly slowing down, a lot like a muggle television set, set in slow motion.

"Well, Harry, why don't you just kill me now? You know you want to, you know you can." The dark and evil voice was just above him, his red eyes peering down and looking at his face.

His wand was held loosely in his hand. Harry knew that even if Voldemort was planning a surprise attack, he still couldn't get away with it. He just wasn't prepared enough. His focus was, surprisingly, someplace else.

Harry looked up at the frightening demon towering above him.

"Well, if you say so," was his faint reply as he brushed a strand of sweaty, limp hair away from his face.

With that he carefully raised his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" He shouted.

The last thing he remembered was the sound of screaming in his ears, and the sickening burn of his scar, sending him into darkness.

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"Harry? Harry? Can you hear me?"

Blurry images moved across his viewpoint. He muttered a slight "yes", and then slowly drifted back into his deep sleep.

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Days later, Harry awakened, lying once again in the hospital ward of Hogwarts.

"Oh good, you're awake," murmured a slightly occupied mediwitch. "I'll go fetch Madam Pomfrey." She scuttled off in the other direction.

After Madam Pomfrey looked him over, forced many more medications and potions down his throat, and forced him back into his bed, Dumbledore arrived.

"Hello, Harry," he said, looking at the frail boy lying in the hospital bed next to him. "Feeling any better than you did a week ago?"

"What happened?" He replied, forcing his large emerald eyes to gaze upon the headmaster.

"Well, you have seemed to have done what has been expected of you to do for the past sixteen years," Dumbledore beamed down upon him, eyes sparkling, even with a slight hint of sadness in them.

"You mean. . ." Harry forced himself higher up on the bed, partially shocked with the news.

"Yes Harry, you did it. You have defeated Voldemort. Lord Voldemort is gone. The wizarding world is safe at last."

Harry lay back on his bed. Strangely, instead of feeling a sense of relief and pride, the feel of regret and uncertainty swept over him. Somehow, he knew something bad would come up again, and maybe with this time nothing would be able to destroy it.

Dumbledore's curious eyes were the last thing he saw, before he relapsed into darkness, once again, fearing all which may come in the future.

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End.