Henry groaned and woke up, disoriented and bleary-eyed, getting up from the floor. He heard the crunching of leaves underneath someone's foot, and blinked, looking up at the crowd of Death Eaters staring at him. Directly in front of him, lazily sitting on a chair, was Voldemort, with his right-hand Bellatrix regaling the other Death Eaters with some sort of chant that seemed to motivate them.
"Oh, joy," Henry drawled, and out of the corners of his eyes he could see the Death Eaters tense angrily. "You're going to kill me. What a finely-tuned response to the situation."
Bellatrix sneered, but was interrupted by a chuckle. "You certainly have a lot of bravery to defy me, Squib," the voice said, hissing out the word Squib like it personally offended him.
"Well it's not like you're in any way intimidating, Noseless," Henry shot back. "Besides, nothing you can do can hurt me, so why bother?"
"Crucio," Voldemort hissed in reply, and Henry bit back a scream as it tore through his protections like paper.
"Well," Henry said, fatigued, when Voldemort released the spell. "Shit." The Death Eaters jeered and laughed at Henry's misfortune as he stumbled to get up.
"Nothing...can hurt you?" Voldemort chuckled. "Clearly, you insult me."
Henry stood as well as he could while his nerves were flaring in phantom pain. "I've done worse," Henry scoffed, before wincing.
"Indeed - your very existence is an insult," Voldemort said with a cruel smile. "Imperio."
Henry felt incredibly light-headed, as if the world suddenly stopped mattering in that instant. His muscles felt like they were in water, and he could just float away. All he wanted to do was follow what the voice was saying, which was to turn around and kill his fami-
"No." Henry shook off Voldemort's Imperius Curse and stumbled away from him, crawling along the floor, inching his way away. Voldemort's face raised in surprise, before setting into a malicious, overconfident smirk. As he raised his wand, Henry braced himself for what he knew was coming next.
"Avada Kedavra."
"NO!" A pink blur rushed in front of Henry and took the hit, toppling on top of Henry.
His eyes widened. "Dolores?"
How in the world did you get here? went unasked, because she was in no state to respond, what with being dead and all - but Henry was more than sure that Dolores was no Death Eater. Henry felt his blood boil - not a good sign. He could also see Voldemort lazily flicking his wand - also not a good sign. And the haze around his eyes gave him a small case of tunnel vision - probably the worst sign.
The magic in the air exploded as Henry's wrist guards cracked from the sheer strain Henry placed on them. Rapidly writing runes on his wrist guards, Henry dodged and ducked around the spellfire Voldemort caused, punching the obstacles Voldemort placed in front of him and breaking them into a fine grain.
Before Voldemort could react, Henry was within arm's reach, and he punched Voldemort square in the face. Voldemort went flying, and Henry followed him into the tree, where Voldemort was punched again, breaking through the tree on impact.
Here is how it ends:
A stray curse hit Henry in the back, and Henry froze, allowing Voldemort time to get up. Smirking cruelly, he waved his wand once more.
Henry threw an explosion rune towards the people behind him, and the space burst into a plethora of still-warm flesh and guts. The resulting rain of blood was enough to mask his movement, as he once again punched Voldemort in the face. But Voldemort's spell hit its target, and Henry felt his blood chill in his veins as he turned towards Voldemort's target.
"...dad?"
His father screamed, voice going octaves higher than Henry thought possible from the man.
Something within him snapped, and Henry moved.
When he came to, he lied face up in a pool of blood and guts. Voldemort and Dumbledore were evenly locked in combat, and while the other Death Eaters were around him, their numbers were far fewer and far away from Henry's pile of gore.
Henry got up - not an easy feat, as his muscles protested every movement - and the Death Eaters surrounding the bloody area tensed.
Henry licked his lips, and instantly regretted it as the taste of blood filled his sense. Quickly spitting it out, he glared at the closest Death Eater, who flinched and shied away.
He tried lifting his arms to get up, but he found that they were too heavy, too fatigued to continue.
Before he could move any more, however, he heard a large pop and his stomach fell.
"Ah, Bella," Lord Voldemort exclaimed at the newcomer, before casting one last spell. "Feel free to end this."
Bellatrix cackled, even as Voldemort himself retreated. Dumbledore tried to move closer, but was repelled by a barrier; even as he instantly started to dismantle it, Henry sighed, fatigued. "Any last words, Squib?"
A quick Ennervate had Henry's father awake; he instantly started to thrash against his bindings, but Bellatrix lazily waved a Petrificus Totalus over his body.
A Death Eater in full regalia grabbed the back of his father's head and forced his eyes open. "Congratulations," he sneered, "you'll be the receiver of your Squib's last words."
"Sorry, Mom, sorry, Dad," Henry said, as his tears started to flow. "This is the end for me. I appreciate everything you two have ever done for me."
Henry smiled at his father. "Daphne, Astoria, I love you two. Don't be too hasty in rushing headlong into what your heart desires; take some time to think about it, but if it's truly what you want, then let nothing stand in your way."
His father kept muttering, "No," but Henry sighed and knew that his time was up. Without turning to Bellatrix, who he knew was sneering and already preparing the final curse, he spoke, voice free of fear and pain. "And to my wife: I am so sorry. But I guess this is the end for me." He smiled. "Just...take care of yourself. That's all I could hope for."
The green light hit, and
Alright, end notes.
The original plan - as in, the entire reason I wrote this story - was because I wanted to kill off my original character. Completely and utterly intentional ending, there might have been hints leading up to it, but I don't remember if I actually implemented them or not. Also part of the original plan: a sequel to establish just what happens to the world after the events of this fic. That plan was scrapped because, other than the crossover influences I definitely alluded to, his presence barely affected anything in the Harry Potter series. Maybe a war or something between youkai and the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, or something, but I don't have interest in writing that any more.
So many original plans were thought up, then scrapped, then re-implemented, then re-removed... This story is proof on why writing by the seat of one's pants rarely turns out well.
I wanted to have a story that had a character manipulate the events of the books while being truly unimportant in the grand scheme of things. That's not a popular fanfiction concept, since a lot of fanfiction is wish-fulfillment and nobody sane desires to live a life worthless and alone, but eh. If anyone wants to take the basic premise of this story, go wild and have fun. I wish you nothing but the best. I don't think anything can salvage it; the only reason I persisted is because it holds sentimental value.
In 2020, I went back and re-uploaded every chapter without author's notes, except for this one. I can't bring myself to re-read my own story, so I didn't make any edits to the story. Thanks for reading.