Description: This was honestly an idea (I hesitate to call it that) that I had after reading articles on Cracked. Seeing where the inspiration is coming from, one can tell it's AT, AU-ish, obviously does not follow canon, and obviously should not be read by anyone who wants to see a decent piece of literature. If anyone wants to see the inane ramblings of a deranged mind, however…
Disclaimer: If you think this was written by J.K. Rowling, then you're on way more drugs than any one person should take.
Harry's Last Stand took place during the Battle of Hogwarts in 2007, when he essentially curbstomped an entire army into submission by himself. Apparently, some local Dark Lord had gotten a little pissed off sixteen years prior when he found out that he was going to be taken down by a fucking infant, and went and capped the kid's parents, before trying to snuff Harry as well.
Actually, he found out that one of two infants could have taken him down, and sent a few of his crackhead friends after the other one. Unfortunately, they misunderstood his rather specific instructions (kill the kid, kill the parents, kill the neighbors, kill the fucking birds in the trees nearby), and rather than just killing the parents, they tortured them into insanity and left the kid alone.
Unfortunately, things went just a little bit awry with Harry, and Voldemort ended up looking like the aftermath of a hippo's lunch. He wasn't dead, though. Voldemort had apparently done so much meth that evening that he couldn't be killed. So, he took a vacation to sunny Albania, where he spent the next ten years skull-fucking snakes and possessing any human that came by.
Harry was dumped with his abusive and neglectful relatives, who had the collective intelligence of a potted plant. Due to this, he began to harden himself.
Voldemort eventually ended up super-glued to the back of a neurotic, sexually frustrated teacher's head and wrapped up under a turban. This was ten years after his abortive (read: totally gone-to-shit) attempt to kill Harry.
Meanwhile, Harry was accepted into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a boarding school that most of the time made East L.A. look like Disneyland. Harry adapted to this by becoming even more ballsy and dangerous. Coincidentally, the teacher who's head Voldemort had taken up residence on worked at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Over the next six years, Voldemort proceeded to fuck with young Harry's head as much as possible. Whether it be sending annoying red-heads into his path, turning a quarter of the school into unpaid hitmen and wannabe thugs, or just plain head-fucking Harry by giving him insane visions and hallucinations, Voldemort rarely let up.
Eventually, Harry was kicked out of Hogwarts for his general balls-out attitude and failure to follow any rule that was clearly full of shit. At this point, Voldemort was still under the impression that Harry wanted anything to do with him. The boy in question had by this point endured five attempts on his life and four years of general mind fucking from Voldemort.
After realizing that he would never be as comfortable at Hogwarts as he would be on his own, Harry returned to his ancestral home in Godric's Hollow, which hadn't been rebuilt in the thirteen years since it was destroyed in the titanic battle between the most feared dark wizard of the age and a spit-bubble-blowing infant. The Badass-Who-Lived rebuilt it with his bare hands, before spending the next three years shooting up steroids and working out.
At the end of 2007, it was discovered that Voldemort was at this time still unaware that Harry had left Hogwarts three years previously, and planned an attack on the castle.
Never one to let the implication that he was someplace he wasn't go unanswered, the now-muscle-bound Harry left his home and returned to Hogwarts, just moments before the approaching Death Eater army arrived. While the students and staff of Hogwarts ran for it like the scared children that they were, Harry used magic to move Hagrid's hut in front of the gate and prepared himself. While this may not seem like much of a diversionary tactic, one must always keep in mind that the Death Eaters had among them an IQ around that of room temperature. That being said, it is easy to understand why it was a six-hour standoff between the Death Eaters and the closed door of Hagrid's hut.
It was beginning to seem like Harry Potter had gotten in over his head here. One might think he was in trouble. Well, if you know shit about Harry Potter, you know that he wasn't going to piss his pants just because a couple hundred Death Eaters were waiting to imitate the Viking's perfected method of rape, loot, pillage, and then burn.
Finally, Harry opened the door and bitch-slapped the closest Death Eaters until they moved twenty feet back from the house, where Harry drew a line in the ground and challenged them to grow the balls to cross it, before returning to the interior of the house.
When the hordes of oncoming Death Eaters approached the house, they found Harry standing at the entrance brandishing a hulking pair of swords. He challenged the group of them, daring them to fuck with him. When a few accepted and charged him, Harry made his point that he was not to be fucked with by tripping them and groin-stomping them so hard they literally coughed up their own balls.
The enemy army stood across from him, trying to figure out how the hell they were going to get past, and whenever some dumbshit managed to find the balls required to step foot on the drawbridge Harry made sure the last thing he saw was a foot-long hunk of razor sharp steel.
Failing to appreciate just how ready he was to make them look like the losing end of a bear attack and the sheer impossibility of one regurgitating one's own nads, and the badass-ness implied by causing this event to occur, the would-be assassins charged, and Harry commenced spraying the countryside with distasteful amounts of high-impact blood spatter.
After playing giant - sword -whack-a-mole with the unfortunate bastards who reached him first, Harry got pissed and started cracking necks and skulls with his bare hands. He killed at least a hundred enemies, perhaps more, before the Death Eaters, realizing that any attempts of fighting Harry like a man were going to result in an eviscerated brain pan, began to try to push over a group of bodies that he had piled up onto him. They eventually collapsed onto him, mostly crushing him under their weight.
His lower body was smashed and he was using dismembered body parts to beat his enemies when some of his former friends returned to pull his now-mostly-pancaked body from the battlefield. He was dying, but Harry didn't give a shit. He knew that dragging his half-dead ass along the ground was only keeping them from escaping, so he told his friends to prop him up against a facing the enemy. He had one of them give him a handy piece of wood to use as a bludgeon, made sure that it was usable and told his friends to get the fuck out of there while he bought them some time.
However, he did accomplish what he intended to do – he bought time for the residents of Hogwarts to escape to 'safety', where they promptly began cowering in their homes and demanding that their government arrest innocent people to keep up the appearance of action.