A/N: once again this chapter is not mine! But belongs to a friend (InuLorien) who stopped writting H/D. starting from the next chapteryou will get to see me try and imitate her.

Also if you want to read it she reviewed the first chapter if anyone is interested in what she has to say.

'How stupid could I be?' Hermione muttered to herself from the backseat of the limo. 'How is it that I managed to drive away the two men that mean the world to me? First, I fall in love with Ron, though that wasn't a big secret. I mean, come on! I always thought Harry was smarter than this! Didn't he see that Ron and I were in love?' She scoffed.

'Obviously not, because the dunderhead still managed to fool himself into thinking that he loves me…. Oh Harry, I'm sorry,' she whispered. 'This is my entire fault! If only I hadn't agreed to this marriage that my parents wanted so much… Why'd you have to be such a good person? Why couldn't you have at least a little bit of neglecting powers in you? But no, you're still just that self-righteous Gryffindor that Malfoy's always talking about. Oh Harry, I'm so sorry! Where are you now?' She almost sobbed as she turned to look out the window.

'Umm…excuse me, Mrs. Potter, am I still taking you to the reception or shall I go after Mr. Potter?' The driver's voice interrupted Hermione's thoughts.

'Oh, uh, just . . . continue on to the reception,' she called back. "I'm sure I can come up with an explanation," she thought. She went back to gazing out of the window and fell into soothing rhythm of the car's driving, and the gentle hum of its engine lulling her to sleep….

Harry turned blindly against the sun. 'Why have you done this to me?' he whispered harshly. 'Wasn't it enough to take away my family? Wasn't it enough to take away Sirius, and then Ginny? Right in the Last Battle, you had the take my girl away from me.' How fitting it was, to have the perfect weather on your wedding day, if only the wedding meant for something. But no - things always turned in the wrong direction for one Harry James Potter.

Flashback:

'Ginny!' Harry shouted. Her fiery read hair spun around as she turned her beautiful blue eyes to face his.

'Harry!' she shouted. 'Harry, I'm here! I told you I would stay with you, I told you I would come to this. You shouldn't have done that, Harry…'

Harry ran the course of the graveyard as fast as he could, doing his best to avoid the spells aimed his way. For the moment, Old Tom would just have to wait.

'Ginny, luv,' he panted as he grasped her shoulders. 'I told you not to come, I don't want you to get hurt! I can't stand for another person I love to die, not again.' He tried to look her in the blue eyes that meant so much to him, but found himself instead looking just past her shoulder.

'Do you mean it, Harry?' she whispered. 'Do you love me?' He nodded, and was a bit taken aback when she flung herself on him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace. 'I love you too, Harry Potter. Not just because of your name, but because you are who you are for me.'

'And you alone, Ginny,' Harry said quietly, petting her hair gently. 'But I still don't want you here! What if you get hurt? I could never live with myself if I knew that you got hurt because of me.'

'Relax Harry, it's all covered. I won't get hurt, I promise you. Just please, let me fight. I hate to stand back and watch as everyone else does the work! I'm not an invalid!'

She spoke with such a passion and a blaze in her eye that Harry had to concede. 'Just don't even think about coming near the big action, like Lucius and Voldemort. I would kill myself if anything happened to you by them.'

'Don't kill yourself,' she said. 'Who would be left to kill Voldemort?'

Harry took her point into consideration and said, 'Fine, I won't. But I'll be surely distraught if anything in the slightest causes a mar to your beautiful face. I love you Ginny,' he said. And with that he rushed off to the fight again, getting caught up quickly in the action. Shouts of 'Indecia!' and 'Expelliarmus!' and 'Crucio!' and 'Petrificus Totalus!' and numerous others, filled the air. Harry put up a shield barrier that he learned, just earlier, from Remus, and made his way safely through the throng of characters, until he arrived at the very heart of the battle.

'Tom.'

The person in question turned his head, his death white skull a give-away, and eyes as red as the crimson poetry shedding around them. Words came to Harry's mind, ones that he had read a world before, in a book left behind by his parents.

"The sparkling crimson poetry beating through your veins, as important as air… yet if its words become visible, can destroy you."

'Potter,' came Voldemort's response. 'How kind of you to join me.'

'Tom, do you like poetry?' asked Harry. He caught Voldemort's questioning gaze and returned it with a daring one of his own. Voldemort's front fell back into place and he sniffed arrogantly.

'What do you mean?'

'What would you say to seeing some poetry? I'd have to say crimson poetry, at best. So beautiful, so delicate…' Harry's voice faded off as he toyed with his wand. He made no move to advance toward the killer in front of him.

'As a pre-killing show? Sure, Harry, why not? Show away.'

Harry's green eyes raised and met his, an almost manic look in his emerald orbs.

'Locked in, Boxed in, Full of fear, My panic grows manic till I can't hear.
'In need of reprieve so that I can't breathe,
'Take my fear, please, make it leave.' (1)

Harry's eyes darkened, and whispered it low under his breath, so that only Voldemort could hear him.

'What?' he asked as Harry finished. 'Potter, what type of poetry is that?'

'That, Tom, is the last piece of poetry you're ever going to hear. Now say hello to your crimson vitality. Crucio!' Harry cast the spell, inflicting so much anger into it that it cut into Voldemort's skin. As Harry lifted it, Voldemort dropped to his knees, panting.

'So-strong,' he gasped.

'Absosoddinglutely.'

Voldemort's red slits of eyes met Harry's and they whispered at the same time the words to make history, yet again.

'Avada Kedavra.'

But only one spell hit, and it wasn't Harry that flew across the room against the wall, it was Voldemort. The reign of the Dark Lord had come to an end, all poetry aside.

(1) Disclaimer: this poem does not belong to me, it belongs to someone on who, i am very sorry, but I cannot remember her name at the moment. But, I have permission to use the poem, as i love it to death (which is it right now). Please, don't sue me as I have enough problems right now to deal with, I don't need yours too. Thanks!