1A/N: Ok! I'm back with another crazy, will-never-happen-but-wouldn't-it-suck-if-it-did deal. Sadly, my story, with all it's pitiful lameness, got lost in the bowels of Harry Potter fanfiction. Plus, I don't think my summary was jazzy enough. It caught, like, absolutely no one's attention. But that's ok. My friends liked it. However, I'm putting out another chapter because I still had more ideas.
Disclaimer: Everything's the same. I still don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with him.
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No One Saw THIS Coming . . . Again!
(This begins near the end of the last chapter in the seventh book . . . )
It had been a long fight already. Sweat was dripping from his face and causing his hair to become matter to his forehead. Blood raced down his face and body, mixing with his clothing and staining them a dark crimson color. His hands were shaking and he was beginning to feel tired. But as fatigued as he was, Harry Potter could not give up now. With the defeat of Voldemort lingering close at hand, Harry was tense with the excitement at finally being able to defeat this beast once and for all.
The battle had been raging for a good hour by now, but Voldemort wasn't showing near the signs of fatigue as Harry was. And even though Harry had struck a few good blows, the Dark Lord kept his sinister composure. Currently, Harry was crouched on the floor. Gasping for breath, he never seemed to find enough to regulate his breathing. But this must end soon. This battle must end soon.
Gasping as he pushed himself to his feet, Harry grasped his wand firmly in one hand. Whipping away the blood that had poured down his face, Harry raised the wand and pointed it directly at Voldemort. "What do you intend to do, Potter?" Voldemort said with a sneer, "You can barely stand, let alone keep your concentration. It looks to me as if you are finished. The best thing to do would be to give up and accept defeat willingly and without a struggle. I don't want this to be too messy." Glaring at him with all the strength he had, Harry lashed back, "Never! I'll never give up, Monster! I will avenge my parents and end your life once and for all!" Chuckling coldly in his direction, Voldemort took Harry's lead and pulled out his wand. "Time to die, Harry," he whispered in the dark.
In a flash, Voldemort was in front of Harry, releasing a spell. Taken aback, Harry did his best just to evade. However, he wasn't quick enough to direct it away completely, and he went slamming into the wall behind him. Coughing up blood, Harry clutched his side in pain. Voldemort had gashed him deeply, and blood ran in spurts over Harry's fingers as he desperately tried to keep as much blood as he could. His vision was becoming more blurry and fuzzy by the second. And if that wasn't enough, a persistent ringing raged his ears and made his brain ache. He couldn't take much more of this.
Deciding that this would be his final blow, Harry gripped the wall desperately and flung himself to his feet. Releasing hold of his bloody side, Harry reached again for his only hope. His wand. Staining the hilt with blood, Harry raised it the best he could and pointed it for the final time at the monster. No words were exchanged, but Harry's ragged breath mixed with his glare of utter disgust and contempt told Voldemort that his resolve was strong. But resolve never won any battles.
Dashing toward Harry, Voldemort was swift enough to knock the wand out of Harry's hand before he could even finish the spell he was planning on using. Yanking Harry into the air by his collar, Voldemort laughed at Harry's desperation. Feeling helpless, Harry grasped Voldemort's wrists and pulled, feebly, in an attempt to free himself. Voldemort drew Harry close to himself and snarled in his face, "Good show, Harry," and flung Harry hard into the wall. Choking a bit, Harry gasped once more. Blood was pouring down his body in such thick torrents that it would seem his body was at the brink. Shaking violently and heaving breathlessly, Harry tried to stumble to his feet again. However, his legs continually gave up on him. As Voldemort stalked ever closer, Harry looked around desperately for something, anything. And, a few feet away, he saw his wand. Flinging himself as best he could at it, Harry felt the cool, hardness of the wand underneath his trembling hand. Hands going numb, he did his best just to clutch it. However, Voldemort was on him again and stomped his foot down hard on Harry's hand, causing Harry to release his only hope. Sneering, Voldemort said no words as he gazed into the eyes of the battered Harry Potter. "Good bye, Harry Potter," Voldemort hissed raising his wand to Harry's scar.
(And that's the end of the seventh book . . .)
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Fans are so taken aback by the realization that this Harry Potter book isn't really the final one, that they go into a panic. All that hype that this is the last one was all for not. Or maybe J.K. Rowling just couldn't finish it? But, wasn't it suppose to be the last one?! Desperate fans look for answers. Finally, a month after the book's release, a press conference is broadcasted to fans all over the world. Rowling confirms that the seventh book was never intended to be the last book, that she wanted to add an element of suspense and surprise for the readers. Most are satisfied with her answer. And, hey, now there's one more book to look forward to. The hype for the next book promises to be a good one. Rumors start flying and, finally, the fabled day has arrived. It's time for the release of book eight.
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(Beginning of the final Harry Potter book, number eight . . .)
Harry gasped as he realized that this was the end. Truly, there was nothing else he could do. But in a fortunate turn of events, Harry hears the voices of Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid. "Harry!" Hagrid calls, "We're coming for ya! Just hang in there!" Voldemort turned sharply toward the sound of the voices, glaring. Then, with the same wicked face, he turns toward Harry snarling, "Your friends cannot save you now, Potter. Die!" And with that, Voldemort unleashes a spell that strikes Harry in the face. Arriving a little too late, Harry's friends can do nothing besides watch as Harry is tortured by the Dark Lord. Screaming in agony, Harry's body flails in an attempt to break free and rid himself of this pain. Hagrid, being prepared, jumps in behind Voldemort and smashes him in the back of the head with a shovel. Voldemort's cries mix with Harry's to become a chorus of pain and despair. Dropping Harry, Voldemort sinks to the ground and ceases to move. Voldemort was now dead. A victory years in the making. But no one celebrated.
Ron ran to Harry's side, gathering him up in his arms. "Harry," Ron cried desperately, sobbing, "Harry, please! Get up! HARRY!" But nobody could do anything for the poor boy. Harry Potter was dead.
(End of the first chapter . . . and, yes, it was short on purpose.)
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The rest of the book deals with a funeral for Harry and all his mournful friends and relatives alike telling sad stories as well as preparations that are made for the funeral and other specifics like his coffin size and where he should be laid to rest. At a whopping 307 chapters, each one longer than the last, Harry Potter book eight is by far the longest and worst Harry Potter book in existence. Sacrificial burnings of the book happen everywhere, and most fans choose to believe that there was never another book after seven. Thus, the wretched waste of paper that is Harry Potter: Book Eight, is lost to the world forever.
The End
A/N: Yet another idea that came about. I especially liked this one because I think it'd be hilarious if the seventh book isn't the last one and it was all just a big trick. But that's just me. And, apparently, I like to make Hagrid hit people over head with shovels, cause I made him do it in both chapters. Go figure. Anyway, thanks for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated.