Last chapter, hip hip hooray. I've posted the whole thing in just one day. (Told you it was short.)
By Neville's seventh year, he had inadvertantly managed to destroy every Horckrux, either by setting off a bizzare chain of events which ultimately led to its destriction, or stepping on it. Now, he had somehow found himself face to face with Lord Voldemort, armed only with a frozen herring, a fake wand and a packet of Fred and George's patented daydream powder.
"Mwahahahahahahahaha!" said Voldemort, proving that some people never change. He didn't notice Neville taking carefull aim with his right foot . . .
"Oooh!" Voldemort collapsed, again, but now Neville was going at him with the fake wand (which had just turned into another frozen herring) and the fish. He wasn't having much success, but when Voldemort opened his mouth to utter the killing curse, Neville ripped open the packet of daydream powder and poured it all into the Dark Lord's mouth.
Lord Voldemort, who had been given an extremely large overdose, was still suffering from a particullarly vivid daydream two hours later when he was discovered by aurors. They found him rocking backwards and forwards on the ground. Somebody took pity on the poor ex-evil mass murderer and let him stay around as a sort of ugly little pet. He didn't speak much, but every time somebody mentioned 'corsets' he would shriek and leave the room. God knows why. (Corrupted mind? Inocent little me? What are you on about, Serethiel?)