Disclaimer: I'm afraid that my limited brain capacity would never allow me to produce such a wonderful concept as Harry Potter, nor would my finances allow me to buy him. Therefore, I regretfully state that I own neither Harry Potter, nor any other characters that you may recognize. I'm not even sure if I own the plot.
Note: I'm assuming that you already know the basic story of Harry Potter from books 1 through 5.
'Italics' stand for thoughts/letters or text
Chapter Fourteen: Fulfilling the Prophecy
Day Five, Afternoon:
His experience in the other dimension was the only thing that kept him openly gasping or showing signs of shock. Thoughts raced through his head wildly as his panic mounted.
'Great, just great! The other me must have decided to join Voldemort! Now everyone will think I'm evil! This is just perfect! What am I going to do? Is there some way I can kill him? Does my Occlumency still work?' The answer to last question was obviously no, as the pain in his forehead was building by the second.
"So, Potter, are you ready to receive my mark? To swear fealty to me and stand beside me as I rid the world of those who are unworthy?"
'Um…Oh great! Now what? Okay, I need to say something! Of all the times to be struck speechless!' For a split second, Harry was sure that he was doomed, but to his utter surprise, the words came easily, almost too easily. "Yes, my Lord."
(Although he didn't know it, Voldemort had already used Legilimency on his counterpart. It was lucky for Harry that the Dark Lord didn't notice his lie.)
"Excellent. Come here." Heart pounding, Harry rose and walked forward to kneel again before Voldemort's throne. At the Dark Lord's command, he rolled up his sleeve and held his left forearm out.
As Voldemort prepared to mark him, he suddenly regained control of his mental facilities. 'Okay, don't panic. What can I do? I don't want to be marked!'
Sweat gathered on his forehead and his hand automatically slid towards his wand holster, searching for the comforting length of wood. Unfortunately, not only did he not have a wand holster in this dimension, but his wand was missing as well. No doubt the Death Eaters had taken it before bringing him before Voldemort.
By now, Harry was close to hyperventilating. Thinking frantically, he ran his fingers against his side…and felt the hilt of a dagger sheathed at his thigh. Without thinking, he drew it, the movement hidden in his flowing black robes.
"Morsmor—" Voldemort began, but before he could finish the word, Harry brought his right arm up lightning fast and slammed the blade of his dagger straight into the Dark Lord's chest.
Black blood spurted out, flowing over Harry's fist. He gaped at the wound for a moment, stunned, until a Killing Curse from one of the deatheaters drew his attention. Flinging himself sideways, he watched in surprise as the green light hit Voldemort instead.
'How ironic. Voldemort detests Muggle things, and yet he dies by a Muggle weapon, and then by his follower's hand.' As if the first spell had been a signal, the other wizards began firing their own hexes.
Knowing that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to take down all of the deatheaters, Harry grabbed Voldemort's wand and dove behind the throne. There was a break in the stream of curses, for no one wanted to hit their master by accident. Harry used the respite to take a quick inventory.
'Let's see, one wand, which should work since it's similar to mine, um, oh good, two daggers — boy, those deatheaters aren't very good at searching people. Hey, I wonder if I can use my Animagus form?'
Sending a quick prayer to whoever was watching over him, Harry closed his eyes and tried to transform. Pain filled his body as muscle and bone rearranged themselves. However, no sooner had he completed his transformation than a jolt of energy forced him back into his human form. 'Anti-Animagus wards. I should have known.'
Then, something else distracted him. Apparently, a dagger in the heart wasn't enough to kill Lord Voldemort.
…………
Day Five, Afternoon:
"What's this? Treachery?" Voldemort sneered, rising to his feet and looming over his nemesis.
Mentally cursing his counterpart for putting him in this situation, Harry drew both of his remaining daggers and hurled himself forward. Astonishingly enough, it worked. Caught off guard, Voldemort tumbled backward, landing face-up with Harry on top and two blades plunged into his stomach. While the injuries weren't exactly fatal, they were certainly inconvenient.
"POTTER! You'll pay for that!"
Frightened at the waves of sheer anger that were flowing off his enemy, Harry pointed his wand — well, Voldemort's wand — and spat off a row of Killing Curses. The wand, accustomed as it was to Dark magic, channeled the energy well. Bright green filled his vision, blocking out the sight of the shocked Death Eaters. They were frozen in place, unable to fire any spells for fear of hitting Voldemort.
By now, Harry had no idea whether or not Voldemort was dead, but since it seemed like this was the best chance he would ever have, he continued firing curse after curse at the form beneath him while his free hand found the hilt of one of his knives and yanked it out.
Not daring to let up his magical attack, he continued spouting off spells, but at the same time, he gripped the weapon and dragged it across Voldemort's throat. Liquid drenched his hand, burning his skin, and he jumped up, wiping the blood on his robes.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Almost every Death Eater in the room shot the killing curse at him in an unexpected display of unity. There was no time to think.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry cried as he dove to the ground, pointing the wand at Voldemort's supine figure and levitating it into the path of the spells. Some thirty-odd streaks of light hit the Dark Lord at the same instant. It was simply too much magic for even his immortalized body to take.
A huge explosion rocked the mansion; black fire roared up, consuming the structure, and the walls and ceilings began to crumble. In the center of the room, still levitating, Voldemort's form disintegrated. Tom Riddle was no more.
