"Seduction by Desslok

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Disclaimer: There should be some sort of internet fanfic registry where you can sign up, do a blanket disclaimer and then be done with them forever. Charge a buck or two and send the money to the authors in question. I'd pay a buck to be done with disclaimers forever, wouldn't you? Especially if I knew it was going to JKR, though I guess she certainly doesn't need any more money. Seriously, can you even imagine being that rich? Ok ok, enough of this tangent. JKR and her publishers own the characters described below. I own a cracked old bowling pin I got at a birthday party at a bowling alley in 4th grade. You decide which you'd rather have.

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Prologue: The Final Battle

Voldemort strode confidently down the stone staircase, stopping on the ancient snake mural imbedded in the floor there. He smiled coldly at the dirty, disheveled young man standing before him. "And so, Potter, the time has come at last. Thrice you have thwarted me, but tonight it ends."

Harry Potter firmed his stance, drawing his wand and holding in front of himself. He met Voldemort's gaze directly with a roguish grin. "You've tried to kill me before, Riddle, and failed. Tonight will be no different."

"Kill you?" Voldemort laughed, ignoring the boy's childish attempt to provoke his ire. "You understand nothing, you insolent child. You will wish for death, Potter. You will beg me for it, but it will forever elude you. In your future there only lies eternal pain and misery. Tonight, you will watch your friends, your family, everyone and every place you've ever loved fall under my complete and total dominion." Voldemort looked over his right shoulder at his most trusted lieutenant, the one who had killed his most hated enemy. "Severus, show him. Let him watch as everything he knows is destroyed."

Severus Snape stepped forward, his hard and cold glare catching Harry's briefly. He waved his wand in an extravagant sweep across the air and seven silver clouds began to swirl.

"Now you will watch as my ultimate plan unfolds. You and your precious Order suspected that I would bide my time, corrupt the innocent, eat away at your world from inside, as I did the first time. You fools never considered that I would learn from past experience." Voldemort laughed once again as the seven silver swirls began to coalesce. "No, Potter, this war ends tonight. When the dust settles, none will dare oppose me. Now, watch as my forces decimate…" Voldemort raised his wand, the twin to the one in Harry's hand, and pointed it to the first cloud. ". . .the Ministry of Magic." He pointed to the second cloud, "Diagon Alley." The third was St. Mungo's and the fourth, Hogsmeade. He paused before the fifth cloud and took one step closer to Harry.

"The next two I selected specifically for you, Potter. As you watch the carnage and destruction, I hope you will realize that it is utterly your own fault. It is only through your association that these places will be destroyed." He gestured to the next and said "4 Privet Drive" and then the sixth, "the Burrow." Voldemort was so pleased, excitedly anticipating the culmination of all of his schemes, that he did not notice the lack of surprise or horror on Harry's face.

"And now, the best of all . . .," the dark wizard continued, poking his wand at the seventh and final silver cloud. ". . . the destruction of Hogwarts itself! That, I will particularly enjoy watching, but first things first." By now, the first cloud had cleared to reveal the scene at the Ministry of Magic. Voldemort focused his attention there, but what he saw forced his dark laughter to die in his throat.

Harry looked up at the scene before him, hoping with all of his heart that everything was going according to plan. 'Ron's plan,' he recalled fondly, remembering the way his best friend had seized control of their plotting sessions and demonstrated all the tactical and strategic brilliance he had previously confined to his chess and Quidditch playing. There on the silver cloud, rather than the surprise assault and devastation that Voldemort expected, was a pitched, but evenly matched battle. On one side of the Atrium, a group of Death Eaters crouched behind fallen statues and flipped desks, snapping spells towards a well-defended brick wall. Behind the wall, a large and obviously prepared group of Aurors fired spells and counterspells at their foes. As Harry watched, one of the Death Eaters gestured over his shoulder and suddenly a sizeable group of dementors swept into the room. Though he watched from far away, Harry could almost feel the chill and the despair that accompanied them into the room.

Just as all seemed lost, however, a figure stepped out of the shadows from behind a statue of a house elf. 'Come on,' Harry urged in his heart, 'just like we planned.' Just as the dementors noticed the young witch before them, she let out a hearty yell. "Expecto Patronum!" the witch shouted. A silver otter appeared in the air beside her, one with considerably more red in its fur than it used to have, Harry noted. The otter moved forward, sliding in and amongst the dementors, confounding them with its energy and its chaotic movements. Distracted by the patronus, neither the dementors nor the Death Eaters noticed the young woman's next action. With a practiced air, she pointed her wand at a block of stone on the ground below the point where the otter had herded all of the dementors. "Constrictus," she said clearly. Suddenly, the illusion on the block fell away, revealing a large wooden chest lined with silver and diamond. The chest fell open and beams of light sprang out of it, spreading out amongst the dementors, binding them, and pulling them down. Despite their ghastly struggles, soon the hateful creatures were all imprisoned within the chest, which then swung shut.

The disappearance of the dementors instantly turned the tide of the battle. With renewed fury, the Aurors sprung from behind their defensive wall and charged the stunned Death Eaters. Pride surged in Harry's chest as he watched Hermione blast the Death Eaters alongside the Aurors. Before he could see more, however, the image vanished. Voldemort lowered his wand and spun to face Harry, his face contorted in rage.

Harry interrupted what was sure to have been a wonderful rant by silently pointing to the other screens, his smile instilling sudden fear in the dark lord. Similar scenes played out at the other locations. In Diagon Alley, Remus Lupin straddled what appeared to be the corpse of Fenir Greyback as he led a group of werewolves, vampires, and other magical creatures. At his flanks stood Hagrid and Grawp with large clubs in their hands beating back the assault. Again, Voldemort dismissed the image.

The attack on St. Mungo's had been undertaken on a much smaller scale. A small group of Death Eaters apparently had attempted to infiltrate the hospital and steal or destroy the supplies and equipment there. In a dim hallway, Harry could see Neville Longbottom facing the strike team by himself. As the Death Eaters approached him, the doors on either side flew open. Green tendrils and vines swept out of nowhere and grabbed them all up, taking their wands, binding their hands, and choking them into unconsciousness. All but one, that is. The scene shifted, following Neville's flight up the stairs behind him to the upper levels of the hospital. 'The nursery,' Harry realized with growing horror. There, Neville found Bellatrix Lestrange, standing in a room before a dozen beds, each holding a screaming infant. Her eyes blazed with wild insanity as she pulled one of the babies into her arms and held it before her. Harry could not make out their whispered conversation, but soon saw Neville lower his wand. Harry knew he would have done exactly the same. Voldemort's mood improved noticeably and he turned to Harry with a foul grin. "I hope she brings it to me. So many potions require parts only found in an innocent or a newborn, right Severus?" Snape did not reply, his focus entirely on the scene at St. Mungo's. All at once, the standoff came to an explosive end. From the hall behind Bellatrix, two robed figures dashed, the larger one rolling to take her down at the knees while the smaller figure leapt into the air, grabbing the baby and holding it close as she rolled into a tense battle stance by Neville's side. "Now, son," the woman cried as the robed man tumbled to his feet at Neville's other side. Neville's wand flashed with a golden light, catching the prone Death Eater right in the chest. Harry saw no more as once again Voldemort dismissed the image angrily.

Quick glances at the next two clouds lifted Harry's spirits even higher. Luna Lovegood, riding atop a thestral like a Muggle cavalry officer, led a charge of battle mages into a massed group of Death Eaters on the streets of Hogsmeade. Tonks lay quietly on the roof of 4 Privet Drive, sniping any Death Eater that moved on Privet Drive while Moody and a squad of Aurors closed in from the rear. Harry's heart soared. All was going according to plan. The lightness in his heart gave him the courage to turn his gaze to the last two scenes. At the Burrow, a line of redheads stood in a grassy field, wands at the ready, as the Death Eaters approached from the forest. Smoking corpses of Death Eaters foolish enough to have attempted to apparate closer lay before them. As the first of the foe entered the field, great explosions went off. Harry laughed with joy as Fred and George high-fived each other. With Ron in the treehouse directing them, all the Weasley men advanced to meet the enemy. Behind them, Molly Weasley waited, ready to leap into any gaps and provide any additional support necessary. The Death Eaters did not stand a chance, and Voldemort knew it. His irate wave dispelled the cloud.

Livid, the dark wizard turned back to his young nemesis. "You may have foiled my diversions, Potter, but I have seen all of your allies, now. Your Order is accounted for, Dumbledore is dead, and my main force, my Inner Circle, will destroy that accursed school once and for all. And that will be enough to cow them all into submission!"

"You'd better look again, you great piece of shite. You've seen the Order in action, but wait until you see Dumbledore's Army," Harry replied grimly, even as the scene on the last cloud dispelled every fear in his heart. There, before the very gates of Hogwarts, stood Ginny Weasley, obviously in the midst of a rousing speech. As she finished, a great cheer went up. Through moist eyes, Harry saw her, shining in the night like the most brilliant star, surrounded by every single Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff student, even by most of the Slytherins. The Hogwarts staff stood arrayed alongside their students: McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Slughorn, Binns, Hooch, Madams Pince and Pomfrey, all of them. Argus Filch held a double-barrelled shotgun; Mrs. Norris perched on his shoulders, hissing angrily at the approaching Death Eaters. Peeves and the other Hogwarts ghosts floated about overhead, providing aerial support. With one final shout, Ginny gestured toward the enemy and all hell broke loose. It was as if the entire storeroom at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes exploded all at once in a cacophony of light and sound. When the smoke cleared, only one Death Eater remained standing, though he wobbled a bit. The long blonde hair streaming out behind his half-broken mask gave him away as Lucius Malfoy. Before he could attack, flee, or do anything, a smaller figure strode forward from the mass of students. Draco Malfoy hauled back and punched his father hard enough to lift him off his feet, sending him in a great unconscious heap to the cold ground. Ginny Weasley was leading the cheers as the last scene dissolved into nothing.

"You've lost, Riddle," Harry said confidently. "Your followers are defeated; your plans have failed. I will give you one last chance to surrender. Prophecies are only what we make of them, Tom. You can choose a different path. Give me your wand and stand down. It is over."

"Foolish boy!" Voldemort screamed. "Nothing is over. I can never be defeated, I who have defeated Death itself. I will have my vengeance for what has occurred tonight and I will begin by showing you worse pain than you have ever imagined." He gestured to the darkness surrounding them. "Nagini, immobilize him!"

Out of the shadows, the serpent slithered, approaching Harry swiftly. Poison dripped from its fangs as it reared up to strike him. Before the snake's bite could land, however, a figure darted in front of Harry. Nagini's teeth sank deep into Peter Pettigrew's flesh even as his metallic hand closed with a sickening crunch around the beast's neck. "Now, we're even…" Pettigrew whispered before the paralyzing poison overtook his throat.

"Traitor!" Voldemort shouted. Before anyone could react, he launched a death curse on his former minion, killing him on the spot. Once again, he turned to his lieutenant, his favored servant. "Severus, it seems it is up to you. I am sure you will enjoy it. Immobilize him and bring him before me on his knees."

Snape strode forward, drawing from his side a long, curved dagger. Harry could see the green ichor coating the blade as it glimmered in the torchlight. As his old Potions professor approached, Harry lowered his mental defenses just enough to send a simple message. 'You did what you had to do, Professor. I understand that now. All is forgiven, at least on my part. I hope you can forgive as well.' A chill ran across his arms as he added, 'She would have been proud, and happy to be your friend. I know it.' Snape's expression was impossible to read, to the point where Harry couldn't be sure he'd even gotten his message. At last, he nodded briefly before quickly spinning and launching the dagger into the center of Voldemort's chest.

Voldemort's eyes widened, as much from the shock of this final betrayal as from the pain of the knife in his heart. "Et tu, Severus," he croaked, drawing the blade out of himself. Blood ran freely down his robes, dripping into a puddle at his feet. Still, he stood. "You may have won this day, Potter," he said in a harsh, ragged voice. "But you still do not understand. I cannot be defeated. Oh yes, I know what you have done to my horcruxes, but as long as one remains, I will live forever." He looked down at Nagini's corpse, still entwined with Pettigrew's. "Your fool of a master thought it was the snake, but he was wrong."

"Yes, he was," Harry said suddenly. "Seven soul shards. One in you. One in the diary and another in the ring. The locket of Slytherin, the cup of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw's ring, and now the last. A living, breathing horcrux." He whistled sharply and a flash of red swept down from the rafters, dropping something at his feet. "Thank you again, Fawkes," Harry whispered to the phoenix. Reaching down, trying to keep the memories of Ginny's cold body lying on the floor of the Chamber out of his head, he lifted the Sorting Hat as he had all those years ago. "The last horcrux," he continued. "The Heir of Gryffindor. Me." With that, he reached into the hat and pulled out once more Gryffindor's sword.

"So you figured it out," Voldemort sneered. "Then you know that your weapon will do no good. As long as you live, I cannot be defeated. Your precious friends are too weak to do what is necessary. They will protect you and, in doing so, will ensure my ultimate victory."

"There is one thing you have always failed to understand," Harry replied quietly. "Dumbledore warned you of it long ago. I think he always hoped that you would finally realize the truth and turn from the path you have been on." Harry turned the blade in his hands so that it faced his stomach. Now was the moment of truth. He knew what he had to do. He knew how to do it. He just didn't know what would happen next.

Voldemort could do nothing but watch, as Snape's poison effectively paralyzed him. Blood continued to drip onto the floor. He knew that only the power of his horcrux magic was keeping him alive at this point. Slowly, realization began to dawn. Surely, the Potter boy could not be thinking of… such a thing was not possible!

Harry closed his eyes. He had spent months meditating, using the pensieve, contemplating this moment. He focused his considerable force of will inward, drawing forth every painful memory of his life. He did not seek out memories of the bad things that had happened to him or the ills done him by the Dursleys, by Voldemort, or the Death Eaters. Instead, he drew forth every instance of his own selfishness, his stubbornness, times he had willfully hurt others with his words or his deeds. He recalled every lie he had ever told, noting how often they were told to those closest to him. Every petty act of jealousy, anger, hatred welled to the surface. He brought forth every bit of darkness inside himself and concentrated it all into an almost physical lump in his gut. Harry knew that all of the evil inside himself did not come from the fragment of Voldemort's soul that lived within him; we all have some darkness inside ourselves. Still, he knew that the entirety of Voldemort's soul fragment lurked inside that lump. He was halfway there.

Next, Harry summoned from within all the happy thoughts and memories he could find. There were far more than he'd ever suspected when he'd first tried to practice this. Vague half-formed images of his parents rose first, colors and scents more than anything. Precious few good memories of his time at Privet Drive, mostly from times he'd been left home alone, followed. He called forth the love and affection he had for Hogwarts, for Hagrid and the rest of the staff there. He saw images of his classmates, students from the other houses, then those from Gryffindor, his Quidditch teams, Seamus, Lavender, Parvati, even Dean. He remembered each time he'd caught the Snitch. He recalled the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes and Sirius's warm smile. Images of the Burrow and all of its inhabitants flooded over him. Already, Harry felt completely enveloped in love and happiness, but now he let himself draw upon the memories of times spent with his two greatest friends: walks in the gardens, plotting in the library, meals in the Great Hall, and studying in the Common Room. He particularly focused on his overwhelming joy that afternoon not too long ago when Ron had suddenly dropped to his knees in front of Hermione and asked for her hand in marriage. Harry was sure that only she had been more stunned than he. When she whispered "yes" through tears of joy and drew her boyfriend, now fiancée, into her arms, all seemed right with the world.

Finally, Harry drew upon his ultimate secret weapon. He thought of Ginny. He saw a young girl running after his train, peeking out of a doorway, or dipping her elbow in a butter dish. He saw a young woman flying confidently across the Quidditch pitch, strolling the halls of Hogwarts, or laughing with him on the porch at the Burrow. He remembered every word she'd ever said to him, every smile or tear they had shared; her hard blazing eyes as she crossed the Common Room and fell into his arms; her sad smile at Dumbledore's funeral. He recalled their stilted dance at Bill and Fleur's wedding, all of their longings and dreams locked down tightly. He read again every letter she had sent him, wrote again every letter he had sent to her, during all the long months they had been apart. At last, he remembered his most recent sighting of her, standing atop the barricades before Hogwarts with the school banner in her hands, exhorting their 'army' to their greatest victory. He loved her more than words could ever express. She was part of him, now and always.

Barely able to contain the overwhelming power of the love in his heart, all the love that he'd ever given or received, Harry Potter opened his eyes and focused once again on Gryffindor's sword. Slowly, he let that energy flow out of his heart and his soul into the blade, which soon began to glow brightly. Snape covered his eyes, but Voldemort could not and the vision of that great love seared itself into his mind, the last vision he would ever have.

Harry felt Gryffindor's sword quivering in his hands with all the power now surging up and down the blade. Carefully, he positioned the point over that point in his stomach where he still felt the gathered mass of evil and darkness. 'I love you, Ginny,' he thought, as he plunged the blade into himself.

---- Three Days Later----

Harry opened his eyes slowly, quite surprised that such a thing would be possible. He realized quickly that he laid in a bed in St. Mungo's. Soft, gentle hands placed his glasses on his face. Behind Ginny, he saw Ron, Hermione, and most of the Weasleys all smiling down at him. He touched his side cautiously. It felt a bit tender, but mostly fine.

Mrs. Weasley bustled forward and embraced him carefully. "You're going to be fine, Harry. You did everything perfectly."

"It's all over now, mate," Ron added, his hand lightly brushing away the tears that fell across Hermione's face as she stood next to him.

Harry looked at the shining, happy faces around him. Behind the twins, he noted Ginny standing in the doorway. She smiled at him with a twinkle in her eyes and nodded toward the bedstand. As she glided quietly from the room, he noted the scroll she had indicated, sealed as her letters always were with the red wax imprint of a kiss. He smiled knowingly and replied, "No, Ron, I think it's just beginning."