The undercover search and destroy team had worked for nine months to seek out and eliminate the Horcruxes. Harry had been a kept informed of the progress of the team, led by Remus Lupin, as he had trained as an Agent of the United States Department of Justice, the American equivalent of Aurors and Hitwizards. Four horcruxes had been found and cleansed of dark magic including the locket, the cup, the finally the diadem. Only the Dark Bastard and his snake were left. Harry was woken in the middle of the night as part of the strike force assembling to go back to Britain and Harry was needed at the briefing. The details of the Prophecy was to be made public. The ICW had the backing of Aurors from around the world. Great Britain would be be brought back into line with international law. The world were taking out the dark regime, no criminal would escape this time. The entire Ministry were suspect, as were all in positions of power. International arrest warrants were issued through the International Court in the Hague. The Headmaster of Hogwarts, Severus Snape, was named as were all known Deatheaters and sympathisers including the former Minister Cornelius Fudge and his Undersecretary Delores Umbridge. A three-pronged attack was planned, the Ministry, Azkaban and Hogwarts. Mopping up would then target the homes of the Criminals. The ICW had already secured the full cooperation of the Goblins and Curse breakers would be used to bring down the wards. Even homes under the Fidelis would be put under siege, eventually the occupants would surrender or starve.
As a junior agent, even though he who had a significant role to play in todays events, Harry was to be kept safe until Voldemort was located. He was part of the advance squad at Hogsmead one of the few who knew Hogwarts and Hogsmede inside out. The co-conspirators of the Weasley twins, their close friends Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, Oliver Wood and Neville were already sat in the back room of the Hogs Head with Alberforth Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, Bill Weasley, Fleur Delacoeur. Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin had departed for London to lead the team into the . Harry walked in with his minder Senior Agent Charles Moore, a gruff no nonsense ex-marine, who was to get Harry to his target. Remus had the Sword of Gryffindor on his knee, stolen from the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts the previous summer. A final piece of mischief from Harry at school. One that had gone unnoticed as he had left a replica in its place. It had been one of the things that kept Harry sane in the oppressive and unjust atmosphere at a school that was neither home nor educational. Snape had considered his stepson downtrodden and on a very short leash. Harry's every move watched and reported on. Then again magic was a wonderful thing. It had taken Harry's friends to show him how to evolve, fight and thrive despite the hard to avoid institutional punishment regime.
The battle progressed and ICW held their line, the students had been evacuated, the forces of the soon to be deposed regime were dwindling and now the inner circle and the Dark Lord entered the fray. Severus Snape was unaccounted for, he had fled the school as the ICW arrived and those branded followers in the halls were arrested as terrorists. The tide had turned. It was turning into a rout when Harry stood before the Dark Lord, Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle. The Dark Lord had miscalculated but of all the losses to day only one was felt by the Dark Wizard. His beloved familiar had fallen after searching the castle for his diadem. He had begun to doubt of the safety of his most precious items.
The young junior agent was wearing standard government issue battle robes, indistinguishable from the rest of the fighters. "Hello Tom. Been a long time hasn't it?"
"Potter! I was told you had fled. I know from our connection, how much you hated your stepfather. I'm afraid he was a loyal supported until his end. I now have the headmaster's wand. I'm sure you know of its significance. The wand of Gellert Grindelwald, the supposed death stick, the unbeatable wand, the hallow." The Dark Lord grinned at the mere weakling before him.
"I've been studying soul magic. I have an affinity to it. Necromancy is not illegal in the United States. I may have had poor scores and pitiful class results at Hogwarts but those bastards could not see the wood for the trees." Harry glossed over the fact he had excelled in private for Remus Lupin, for Fiius Flitwick and Horace Slughorn. He hid his intelligence, his drive to excel and his loyalty to his few friends and allies, appearing as reckless and as dense as Ron Weasley, the epitome of Gryffindor house. Dumbledore viewed him as a disappointment. believing the lies of his pet spy. Snape had obvoiusly told his true master the same bull.
"Necromancy?"
Harry then began to chant, he called on the Great Spirit to restore balance and to take his due. The pull of the Veil was strong, the whispers of the world beyond was heard by the very mortal man who feared the next great adventure above all. Harry knew of balance, of duality, a beginning and an end. Voldemort was not the first to seek immorality, but more than most had pursued it despite the fact it came at a great price. He had been cleansed himself of Voldemort's stain on his own soul. The man had no idea of the destruction of his soul anchors. A quest Snape had assumed had faltered with the death of the Great Albus Dumbledore and the expatriation of the Chosen One to foreign shores.
A blaze of curses, dark and deadly flowed from the Dark Lord, but Harry with great dexterity moved to avoid, to shield and to defend. Those who watched saw two equals with opposing styles. The naive would call it light and dark, but they could not hear the low murmur of continual devotion from the younger duelist.
"You are a fool! I cannot be defeated. I will destroy you, then your mother and your sisters. All you hold dear shall be tormented for my amusement. The world will be bent to my will." The fighting words, were spat out, the fight was to the death. Neither opponent would give quarter but there was fear in the Elder's eyes. Ghosts of those long dead and the newly slain formed a circle around the two fighter's. It was only then that Tom Riddle noted the ring on his opponenets hand. The Peverell family heirloom, death's stone.
Magic flowed. Harry had learned much in the ten months exiled from Britain. This was his destiny. The Dark Lord was waining, the child was nothing like his loyal potion master had described. Had it all been a ploy? That was not possible, all his other spies, his own observations had been of a poor student, a mediocre wizard, a weak and pitiful boy, bullied and ridiculed by all. The wizard before him was still faultlessly reacting and defending. It was beautiful to see the effortless flow of magic and movement. Before him was his equal. A kind word, an offer of revenge on his abusers and this boy could have been his right hand. Voldemort should have relinquished his loyal supporters for a chance to ensnare this worthy opponent.
Harry guessed the train of thought of his nemesis and after enduring the taunts which had been without power to the cutting insults he had endured growing up, a boy unloved and derided. "Do not doubt your former potion's master, he did not betray you. He only saw me as a mere shadow of my father, one he could taunt and torture without reprisal from anyone. I do hope you made his death painful." Harry smiled, hard, cold and cruel. If this Dark Lord thought him a tool of Dumbledore, he was gravely mistaken. Harry saw fear in Voldemort's eye's, he was not fighting a beacon of light but one who was after his own position. Harry's next curse was an energy sapping hex. It touched the Dark Lord and syphoned his core to the elements. "I return your power to nature to redress your crimes. You are not really alive, a creation of magic. Prepare for your journey to hell."
As the construct of flesh, blood and bone was deprived of the magic, the thing that had been a mage class wizard was crumbling to nothing. "My blood stolen for your resurrection I willingly gift to those you murdered. I offer my magic freely to have their vengeance. It is time to fear Tom. I give all to see you destroyed."
Harry faltered as he gifted his essence through the hallow as a pure offering. Willing sacrifice of a pure soul, of the guiltless and the virginal was the oldest and deepest of magics. The young agent closed his eyes as he felt his energy levels plummet. The duel had distracted the Leader of the Current Regime in Magical Britain from Harry's true game plan. The dead would briefly rise. No mortal could survive such a assault from the victims of a Dark Soul. The boy smiled. Today he fulfilled the damned prophecy that had ruined his life. This was an end and a beginning. Harry briefly looked on the face of his long dead father before his world faded to black.
The wards on the Potter Estate flickered and then collapsed. The last known home of the Death Eater Severus Snape came into view. The team of Goblins entered the cottage and arrested the wife and the two minor daughters were sent to a holding centre for evaluation and fostering.