Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Everything belongs to JKR.
Summary: Harry wants to die, but he can't. He will have to ask Voldemort... will harry get fulfilled his last wish? His death wish? very sad at the end. PostOotP
Death wish
The pale moonlight shone through the window into the smallest room of #4, Privet Drive.
Harry was lying on his bed and crying uncontrollably.
Everything was his fault. Because of him, Sirius had died. It wasn't Bellatrix's fault, not even Voldemort's. It was his and only his mistake. And he couldn't do anything about it. He felt lost in the world. Everything seemed unnatural.
Ron and Hermione both felt so far away. Even when he had been on the Hogwarts Express they had been so distant... They weren't distancing themselves from him, but he just felt detached.
Voices seemed to come from far away and were dull. He could see properly, but everyone seemed to be out of his focus, he felt lost. They lived in another parallel dimension without realizing Harry wasn't present in their own dimension.
He was alone in a hostile world.
Everywhere were his enemies and the only reason he still kept on living was that he was the only hope for the wizaring world. Only he could kill Voldemort.
Harry felt so alone. The only person who had considered Harry something more than just a weapon to rid the world of Voldemort had died. Sirius had loved him. And Harry never told him that he loved him too.
Everything seemed so utterly strange. The wizarding world wasn't the same without his godfather. He would so much want to see Sirius again and tell him how he felt, how much he loved him and how much Sirius meant to him. But it wasn't possible. Sirius would never come back.
An idea struck Harry. Sirius didn't need to come back. Harry had to go to him.
Harry had to die.
He knew nothing held him here in the world of the living. No one really loved him except the Weasleys and they would overcome his loss. Molly had enough children of her own.
Harry decided.
He felt alone here and guilty for Sirius' death. In the afterlife he would be with his parents and Sirius again. He would be happy. Let the wizaring world handle their own problems. He didn't owe them anything.
Harry got up from his bed, walking across the room, becoming more determined.
He opened his trunk, rummaged in it until he found what he had looked for. He went back to his bed, dazedly. He felt more alive than ever but at the same time so drained of life. His gaze was fixed in a morbid kind of fascination on the knife in his hand.
Just as Harry was about to slash open his wrists with the knife Sirius had given to him, Harry remembered something. He could have screamed in frustration as he put down the knife.
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...
and either has to die of the hand of the other; for neither can live while the other survives...
He couldn't kill himself. He would survive. Nobody and nothing could kill him except Voldemort.
His only way to go back to his godfather... and he couldn't kill himself!
What was he to do? He now knew he really had to die, he wanted to. To see Sirius and his parents again... that was all he wanted, his greatest wish. And only one person could grant it. Lord Voldemort.
Determined, Harry got out of his bed and went to his desk to write a letter. After he finished, he tied the rolled parchment on Hedwig's leg and shooed her out of the window.
„Go, Girl, bring this to Voldemort and make sure you get an answer!"
Hedwig hooted and made her way to Harry's enemy.
888
Lord Voldemort sat on his throne and watched curiously, as a white owl came swooping through the window. He calmly noticed the alarm go off, when the owl passed the window. He pointed his wand at the proud-looking owl and stunned it. After that, he summoned it to him. When the owl landed within his reach, the doors burst open and a crowd of Death Eaters ran into the room. They were his defense squad. Voldemort told them to get back to their positions in his headquarters after he used the Cruciatus curse on one of his followers.
He untied the parchment with a flick of his wand and hovered the parchment to himself and with another flick, the parchment unrolled itself.
Without touching it, he leaned over it and began to read.
Voldemort, (here, Voldemort was surprised; no one except Dumbledore and Harry Potter dared to use his name)
you may think I'm insane to write to you, being the Boy-Who-Lived and all... Well, probably I am. Allright, I'm going to do you a favour.
I want you to kill me. There. There you have it. That's why I think I'm insane. But I have my reasons. Now, I'm almost sure you will read this whole letter, so I'll tell you everything. I can't tell anyone else. So, you read this and then you may kill me. Deal? Good.
Here you go.
You accompanied me my whole five years at Hogwarts. In first year, I killed someone because of you, in second year, I had to fight against the basilisk and kill your diary-self. Fourth year, I had to watch someone being killed and had to endure torture. I was forced to give my blood for your ressurection. Fifth year. You attacked the ministry. Bellatrix killed Sirius. Your Death Eaters hurt my friends and finally, you possessed me.
Anyway, you made my life hell, so, why do I want YOU to kill me?
Did you have a particular reason for going after me and trying to kill me? Another reason that doesn't involve you hating me? No? That's what I thought. Listen. The prophecy. Yes, the prophecy you only know the first part of. You know what? I know it all. I know the whole prophecy about us. And I don't want to live like that. That was a final straw. You killed everyone I ever loved and now I know the prophecy. What reason is there to continue fighting? Where's the reason for living? I don't have anything that holds me in this world. I would have joined my parents and family in the afterlife if I could. But I can't. No one can. I'm nearly immortal. Nothing and no one can kill me. I'm not destined to die. There is only one person who may kill me. You know, we both are quite similar. You are immortal as well. No one will be able to kill you. There too is only one person who can kill you. It's me. And it is you who can kill me. Oh well, back to the prophecy.
The one with the power to vanquish the dark Lord approaches...
born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...
and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...
That is the whole prophecy. I assume it won't be too disturbing, as I won't be alive much longer. I really don't care about anything anymore. Just make sure this time you will kill me and not yourself.
Hoping you will have a nice time ruling the world,
Harry Potter
Voldemort was flabbergasted. He had never been that surprised. He made plans and he expected everything, but never had he been so surprised. Potter wanted him to kill him? And what was it with that prophecy? Was it a trap that Dumbledore had laid out for him? No, Dumbledore wasn't exactly known for his cunning plans. Did Potter want to play Hero again and lure the Dark Lord into a trap? He wouldn't dare. Harry Potter knew what the Dark Lord was capable of.
Probably he should just investigate if it was the truth that Potter had written.
Lord Voldemort stood and apparated away without taking any Death Eaters with him. He alone was deadly enough. Potter should feel honoured that the Dark Lord himself visited him.
Voldemort apparated outside of #4 Privet Drive and carefully looked around. He knew from his spies that there were always members of the Bird Club guarding the boy. There were wards that protected Harry Potter as well. Blood wards. Voldemort had nearly laughed his head off when he had heard these news from one of his servants. The servant had looked horrified and scared. After all, the Dark Lord laughing was never a good thing. It was easy to get around those blood wards. He himself had the same blood as Potter. The boy had given his blood for Voldemort's ressurection. Sometimes Dumbledore could be so naive.
First, he made his way around the house and everytime he discovered an order member, he stunned him or her. Today he wasn't on a killing spree, after all Harry Potter had invited him. When the boy was dead no one could question his authority and power.
When he had made sure that no guards were left, he drew a rune into the air and did this three times more in the south, east and west. When the circle was complete, they started to glow blindingly and for a little moment, the wards that surrounded the house were visible before they dissipated without a sound. Soon, soon, Harry Potter would die.
Harry sat in his room, tears still streaming down his face. His life would end soon. Not that he deserved to live, but he would still miss it. He didn't cry out of fear. He cried because of his sins. When he heard a small ´click downstairs, he hurriedly cleaned his face. He would die without crying.
He sat down on his bed and waited. Voldemort would come. He calmed himself and when Lord Voldemort entered the room, he didn't show any fear nor any emotion.
He greeted the Dark Lord with a nod and gestured for him to sit down on his chair. Surprisingly, Voldemort sat down and eyed him suspiciously.
„So, you want to die?" The dark Lord's voice was cold.
Harry shivered lightly and rubbed his scar with his left hand absentmindedly as it hurt somewhat. „Yes. I told you. I hope you have found a way to kill me? Because it wouldn't be any good if you got yourself killed. You wouldn't have anything of it and I would be even more famous." At the last comment, Harry had a disgusted look on his face.
Voldemort would never admit it and even less show it, but he was amused. He banned the thought and proceeded to think about a way to kill Potter.
„We could try the killing curse, but that is very risky. And unlike you, I'm not too eager to die."
Harry sighed. „I had anticipated that. Do you have any other idea? Just nothing painful. I want to die peacefully, I don't want to fight."
„I could -"
Voldemort was cut off, when shouts were heard from outside. A quick look out of the window showed Dumbledore and half of the order running towards the house.
„Oh no. They noticed the wards falling!" Harry was angry. He didn't want them to interrupt this. He had made his decision and wouldn't change his mind.
„Voldemort. Can you apparate from here?" Harry asked quickly, having an idea.
Voldemort looked slightly insulted. „Sure, I have the same blood as you have and the blood wards are connected to the anti-apparition-wards. It is no problem for me."
Harry sighed, relieved. „Good. Could you take me away and then kill me somewhere else? Just make sure my body is found."
Voldemort just couldn't understand how a boy of sixteen years could be talking about his own death without fear or awkwardness. He must really want to die. And certainly he wasn't afraid of it. He silently admired such braveness. It bordered to insanity. But just slightly.
He snapped out of his thoughts, when he felt Potter's hand on his arm. Potter was flinching and a pained expression was on his face. But he didn't loosen the grip. Looking around one last time, he apparated away to headquarters.
He threw some complicated locking charms at the door and sat down on his throne to think. There weren't any chairs in the room, for his servants had to kneel or stand in his presence. He conjured a chair for Harry Potter and the boy sat down in front of him.
„The killing curse is based on intention and hatred. If I have the intention to kill someone and the needed hatred, I can kill that person. But in your case, there is something more that we need. Some kind of third component.
Your mother protected you with love and the will to live. She wanted you to live. So, you have to counter it if you want to die.
To connect to this ancient spell, you have to feel love. But to counter it you need to disregard your will to live, you have to want to die.
Your death wish has to be as great as your mother's wish for you to live was. Being your mother, she must have felt a great love and when she died for you, she willed you to live. You have to feel this great love and overpower her will to live.
Then, I will be able to cast Avada Kedavra on you without getting harmed." Voldemort looked at him questioningly.
Harry was deep in thought. Could he overpower his mother's will for him to live? Could he love as much as she had? He needed the right memories for both. Extremely happy and sad memories. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. When he succeeded, he looked up to Voldemort with empty eyes. „I will die. I will succeed. I tell you, when I'm ready."
Harry stood up and stood in front of Voldemort. First, he had to feel love, such great love. Harry thought it would be easier, if he spoke his thoughts.
„I had parents that loved me unconditionally, they even died for me." Harry's stomach seemed to fill with warmth.
„I have great friends, I love them. Ron... and Hermione... they have been with me from the beginning. They were always there for me and loved me for who I am.
Then, there is Remus, he is so understanding and he loves me. He loved my parents too. After the third year, he was there for me whenever I needed him.
And then, I met Sirius." Here, Harry took a deep breath.
„First, I thought he was a murderer, but in one night, I realized who he was. He was the person I had been looking for for all my life, my guardian. He – He wanted the best for me and he promised me to take me in and that I could live with him when he was cleared of all charges. I was never so happy before. I would finally have a family... One Christmas, we were together at his house... It was the best Christmas feast of my whole life. I felt the love radiating through me when he hugged me and I finally had found happiness."
A soft glow surrounded Harry that showed the spell was active. Now, Harry looked for all his memories that were sad, reasons to die.
„I killed my parents. Because I was a child in a prophecy I got them killed, they tried to protect me.
I ruined the life of my relatives. They wanted a peaceful life and I made their life stressful and full of fear.
I helped to resurrect Voldemort with my own blood. I persuaded Cedric Diggory to take the cup with me and I brought him to the graveyard. He wasn't supposed to die. I led him to death. He could be alive had I been dead.
I led my friends into danger and into a battle that I knew we couldn't win. I didn't train them hard enough, they were hurt and many nearly died because of me."
With every word, the glow that surrounded Harry got brighter.
„I believed in a vision I wasn't sure to be true. I didn't think of contacting anyone before rushing to the ministry to rescue my godfather. Because of my thoughtlessness Sirius had to come and rescue me. But- he – he just fell. He fell through the veil. Had I been faster, I could have caught him. If I hadn't been standing rooted to the floor, watching. People died because of me, because of my foolishness. All over my life, I led people to their deaths. I don't deserve to live."
The glow was very bright now and tears started to pour down Harry's face, when he regarded his sins, he knew he was guilty. He had no reason to live, nothing that held him in the living world.
„Everyone I ever loved died because of me, there is no one left. My friends are going to die because of me too, I'm not accepting it. I will die."
Through his tears, Harry looked up to Voldemort and nodded lightly. „It's time."
Harry couldn't see it, but Voldemort had difficulties with holding up the cold mask he had worn all of his life as Lord Voldemort.
Thin, bony fingers pointed a long, black wand at the crying Boy-Who-Lived, who, despite his tears had an undefinable look on his face.
Lord Voldemort lifted his gaze and felt a painful tug on his heart as he uttered the unforgivable words.
„Avada Kedavra!" Something seemed to collapse in him and he choked back a sob.
Green light raced towards the glowing boy and before the deadly spell reached him, Harry Potter opened his eyes and looked Voldemort into the eyes. Deep, glowing emerald-green eyes met scarlet ones and a silent, peaceful last look was exchanged. There was endless peace and understanding in those deep emerald pools of light.
Then, the green light that was exact same colour as the boy's eyes, hit the glowing shield that surrounded Harry Potter.
An eternal moment, the eyes of both the fate's chosen were locked when the light spread over the shield and finally surrounded it. An explosion of pure light happened then the glowing around the boy burst and the spell finally reached him.
The clock struck midnight.
The eyes glowed unnaturally bright in the green light and when the light faded, the limb form of Harry Potter, the last great warrior for the light fell in slowmotion onto the ground. A small, peaceful smile lingered on his lips and the eyes looked into the nothingness with a look that Voldemort would never forget. Forgiveness and love. And it was directed at him, him, the mass-murderer, the Dark Lord. He had never thought he would get forgiveness and love from his enemy, but he got it.
Warmth spread through his body when he looked his dead enemy in the eyes, these amazing green eyes... he had taken all the light and live out of them, had taken the life of the only person that had forgiven him for all he had done. He needed this forgiveness but would never again get it.
Voldemort slowly knelt down beside Harry Potter and felt despite himself something well up in him. It felt like a mixture of despair, numbness and that undefinable feeling he had never experienced before. He had killed so many, had never looked for forgiveness, but now, after having seen the look in Harry Potter's eyes as he seemed to forgive him for everything he had ever done wrong, he knew it was what he needed the most. But now he had killed the only one who would give him what he needed. He would never again be forgiven. He would never be loved.
And at one minute past midnight of the day Harry Potter was killed, Lord Voldemort, the most feared and cold-hearted man on the whole planet threw back his head and screamed while tears were streaming down his snake-like face.
THE END
Did you like it? Did you not like it? I tried to write the last part quite sad, because I love crying when I read something sad. When I start to cry, I usually know that the story was good. I cried writing it... (
Well, I hope you like it. I would be glad about some reviews to get a bit of feedback. I'm writing on a sequel or two. Just wait a few days and it'll be up. The sequel will end on a slightly... happier note. For those who had hoped for a sequel where Harry's friends find him: I have to disappoint you. But the sequel will be quite touching anyway and I'm sure you will enjoy it just as much as you would have the friends-find-Harry-sequel.
Taranis Theia, formerly Youkai's Rhapsody, formerly Fawkes1305.