Title: GRAND FINALE

Rating: It's all clean, but some of it will go over young peoples' heads.

Summary: It is said that right before you die, everything looks so beautiful. I supposed it might have been beautiful, in a haunting way. But who can think about beauty when nothing stands in between you and death? (One-Shot of the final battle)

A/N: Like what you see? Check out "Surfacing Memoirs"- my most popular fic.

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This is it. The final war. The final battle. I've been waiting for this since I heard the prophecy for the first time. So many things have happened since then. So many people have died.

So many of them were my fault.

I remember when Sirius died. I blamed myself. Believing it was my fault. I was thick headed and young. But the death wasn't really my fault. I've come to realize that. I've come to realize that things happen, and they were meant to happen. Still, just because I don't blame myself doesn't mean I don't feel the pain.

So many battles have come and gone, each worse than the next. It's funny, when I look back, I can see how Ron and Hermione and I thought we'd be able to take on the Death Eaters. I mean, in the Department of Mysteries, we did a pretty good job, but we still got beat up. And the Death Eaters hadn't had training for a long time. That's changed now.

There are fewer people around me now. I'm shooting spells left and right without even thinking. It's like my body is fighting, and my mind is just...talking. It's so strange, because every time I get hit with a spell, I just stop until it wears off, or the Death Eater is killed. My mind stays so calm, like I'm not registering that I'm being attacked.

Ron is fighting Draco. Just like the old days. Only McGonagall can't break them up this time. McGonagall died three battles ago. Isn't that sad, that I'm counting time by battles. Draco is using Unforgivables like mad, not just on Ron. He always was a good wizard, whether I liked him or not.

I turn away before Ron gets put out. I don't think I can stand to see yet another one of my best friends die. I've seen too many already. I hear a yell and turn back around, for once my mind working with my body. Ron won. I almost smile. Almost. The feeling is so foreign to my lips. I see Draco. Blood is dripping from his eyes like crimson tears.

I hear a noise behind me and I turn wand out, a spell on my lips, but I do not say it yet. I have trained myself to look first, for who knows if it may be friend or foe. I've killed my classmates that way, and that was one mistake I learned from.

If you look at all the people I've had to kill now, I'm just as bad as the Dark Lord himself. I'm doing the same thing he's doing. Only he's killing out of spite. I'm killing to stay alive. At least, that's what I try and tell myself.

A Death Eater rushes past me, and I whirl after him instinctively. "Avada Kedaver-." I stop. It is Lucius Malfoy. He is stooped now, looking at his fallen son. Tears shimmer in his eyes, and I find myself looking away, ashamed for him. It is so strange to see tears on the face of a Malfoy. He places a last kiss on Draco's forehead, before turning on Ron.

He doesn't see me. He is too busy trying to get vengeance for his son. I kill him before he can kill Ron. It is easy. I wonder if this is how Death Eaters feel, killing without remorse. I don't stop to ponder, really. I keep fighting.

The sunset has long gone, and the hours of twilight fading fast. The people around me are dwindling fast, and I can see the Dark Lord. He isn't fighting. He's watching with amusement. He's just waiting for me.

The ground is littered with bodies. It is hard to walk, let alone run. I hear the swish of a heavy Death Eater robe behind me, and my hand connects with their head without thought. I whirl around and see who I've knocked out. It's Snape. He's not dead. "Petrificus Totalus." I sneer at him, my hate for the man never fading. It would be so easy to kill him now, revenge for all that he's ever done to me, revenge for hating my father.

I don't. I just turn away, leaving him on the ground. There are only three people left fighting. How can that be? Two of them are Death Eaters. I can see them advancing on our last fighter. Out last fighter besides me. Then I realize. Those aren't Death Eaters. They're Dementors.

"Expecto Patronum!" I hear myself yell, without recalling having yelled it. Prongs erupts, riding towards them. They leave, but it is too late. The light side has fallen. They have fallen on me. I am the last hope. The only chance. The Boy Who Will Conquer. It's stupid really, they're dying so that I can save them, but what's left for me to save?

Now, it's me, and it's him. There's nothing between us. The stars seem brighter than ever, making it lighter, giving me an advantage. I can see him. But alas, he can see me too.

The Moon is fuller now. Eerie shadows are cast across the field, tangling themselves in the branches. The wind whispers through the trees shaking the branches with the breeze. I look up at the sky. Clouds are rolling in, and it too begins to cry. I take it as an omen of things to come, and yet I am shocked by the beauty of the scene.

I'm not sure why I'm thinking how beautiful it is. It is said that right before you die, everything looks so beautiful. I supposed it might have been beautiful, in a haunting way. But who can think about beauty when nothing stands in between you and death?

We face each other, wands at the ready. This is it. The final moment. The Grand Finale of the Second Wizarding War. I've always hated Grand Finales. Even when we watched fireworks. They were always horrible, because so many fireworks were shot that each one took away the beauty of another.

This is the moment that my whole life has led up to; I was born for this purpose. Technically, this is the Grand Finale of my life.