Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognise. Characters, places, spells – anything from the Harry Potter books are not mine. I am simply a poor student with a severe lack of money and spare time.

This chapter is dedicated to all those of you who are in bands, which go and play Christmas music in the streets. I know what it's like to freeze your butt off for hours.

And to Karen, who briefly features in this chapter as a wizened old weather witch. Today I said that it was her fault that it was freezing cold outside and she admitted that it was indeed her fault. So I said she was a weather witch, she agreed and I said that I'd put her in my fanfic (just to annoy her), but she said 'go on then'.

With thanks to HP-Scriptor, RoschLupin-Black, Eric2, Delta74, leiselmae, Serenitystone, Xandria Nirvana and Morgaine of the Fairies!

Okay, this is proof of the fact that I'm really not very good at writing battles (I hope it's not too bad!).

James' Duel

The 'Final' Moments

James suffered in his own comatose world, finding the truth of what had happened to him, remembering things that caused him more pain than he thought he could ever cope with. One memory stood in the foreground – his last memory before Rendakadavra.

James gathered all his courage as the front door blew off its hinges. He knew that he had to protect Harry and Lily – he didn't care what happened to him, as long as they were safe.

Before Voldemort reached him, he shouted "Lily, take Harry and go! It's Him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off – " And that was what he was going to do.

James faced Voldemort with all his strength. He didn't shake; he didn't tremble. James wasn't going to show that deep down he was scared for his family; James wasn't going to give Voldemort the upper hand. He would fight to the death, he would fight with all his might – he would give the old geezer a run for his money

The old geezer went straight for in for the kill – his plan was to kill Harry, whoever dared to stand in his way would get blasted too.

"Avada Kedav-"

James performed a powerful shield spell as Voldemort started to speak and then fired back with a leg-breaking spell. Unfortunately, Voldemort's resistance seemed to be higher than usual, and James didn't get to hear his bones crack. He heard them give an almighty creak and snatched the pause to perform another spell.

"Animaabripio!"

Voldemort blocked the spell and laughed at James, but James could tell that he was still in pain from the leg-breaking spell, so he laughed back.

"Cataractaconglacio!"

James hastily reinforced his shield and added layers as a huge shower of deathly cold water fell around him

"Inflammo!"

Voldemort's shield absorbed the fireballs as though they were droplets of rain. He cocked an eyebrow.

"Is that the best you can do Potter?"

James ignored the taunt and inundated Voldemort with a torrent of powerful spells. Voldemort managed to fire a few back, but James' spells had definitely done Voldemort some damage.

His legs seemed to be giving him a lot more pain than before and he could barely walk. His robes were badly burnt – he had managed to extinguish the flames quite swiftly, but his robes were still smoking. His face was a sore red, like a huge boil, and his eyes were slightly unfocused.

James had been hit quite badly by Voldemort's counter attack. The ends of his hair had been burnt – the smell of burnt hair hung in the hair and mixed with the burnt robe smell coming from Voldemort. His stomach had been slashed and he could feel the blood seeping out. James could feel his life force being slowly dragged away.

Voldemort staggered closer and lifted his wand.

James gathered his last bit of strength.

"REND-""-A K-" "AD-" "-AVRA!"

James' spell bounced off Voldemort's shield and flew back at him, along with Voldemort's own spell. James had no strength to do anything but watch as the purple and green flashes of light mixed with each other and headed for him.

The spells seemed to move in slow motion before they hit James squarely in the stomach and he fell, with a graceless thump, to the ground, smashing his head against the wall as he did so.

James watched as the world grew fuzzy and Voldemort stumbled upstairs. He knew he had failed.

The staff of St.Mungos battled to save the man's life. Three times they watched the monitor screens show an erratic pattern of thought; three times they watched the man's body twitch and lash out as though he thought he could change whatever was going on inside his head; three times they had to revive him.

His identity was another problem. They found fake muggle passports in the man's bag, but nothing that could lead them to his true identity. They knew that the bloke was a wizard, but they couldn't find his wand. Nobody had reported a man of his description missing.

So they waited. They couldn't report him on the Wizarding Wireless Network because he might be hiding from someone. He could've been attacked by Voldemort or a Death Eater and barely escaped. Dark times had fallen on them once more and they could never be too careful.

Weeks later, the man awoke. The Healers thought that he resembled Harry Potter and were suspicious of him. James didn't care. Within minutes of waking up, he leapt out of bed, pulled his clothes on and ventured back to Diagon Alley.

James rushed to Gringott's and exchanged some of his muggle pound notes for Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. He hurried through the crowds and hastily bought basic supplies from each shop, before tentatively stepping through the door of Ollivanders.

The doorbell tinkled lightly as James entered and he saw old Ollivander standing with a wizened old weather witch. He walked to one side and browsed through the various wand accessories while he waited. Before long, James heard the chink of money being handed over.

"A fine wand Miss Karen, thank you for your custom."

"Thank you, Mr Ollivander."

James turned around when he heard the tinkle of the doorbell as the wizened old weather witch exited the shop.

The old man jumped in surprised when he saw James.

"But your- you were – dead."

James shook his head. "Trust me, Mr. Ollivander, I'm not, nor ever have been, dead. Something happened when I fought Voldemort. It's too lengthy to explain right now, but I really need a wand before I see Dumbledore. It's not safe walking around without a wand."

James hesitated. "Of course – I mean – is Dumbledore still alive?"

Mr Ollivander's wide, pale silvery eyes searched James' for a while before he slowly nodded in agreement.

"Yes, yes. I see that you do not lie Mr Potter and I recognise that it is of the utmost importance that you find Dumbledore. You are right – these times are too dangerous to walk around unarmed."

He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket and it swiftly measured James' arms, head and fingers. It stopped and Mr Ollivander climbed one of the creaky old ladders and stretched to reach the box at the very top of the stack. He climbed back down and dusted the box off before pulling out the wand that it contained.

"This is the closest match to your old wand, Mr Potter. Mahogany, eleven inches, pliable, powerful – excellent for transfiguration. The only difference is that it contains hair from a different unicorn."

He handed the wand to James, who gave it a quick wave.

"Hmmmm…."

Mr Ollivander took the wand back and went back to the shelves. He spent what seemed like forever searching through the boxes before he walked back to James with what looked like the same wand in his hand.

He caught James' puzzled look and chuckled lightly.

"Not the same wand Mr Potter – similar though. It contains dragon heartstring instead of unicorn hair."

James took the wand and felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He mumbled an incantation and grinned as the shop floor turned into a dance floor.

Mr Ollivander smiled and gave James the price of the wand. As James turned to leave, he heard Mr Ollivander's voice behind him.

"Good luck, Mr Potter. Good luck."

Please give me a review for Christmas! Merry Christmas to everyone and a Happy New Year!

Tanya