Harry Potter and the Weasley Seer Chapter 37: The End of the End, a harry potter fanfic

Chapter 37: The End of the End

"Butterbeer! Get your Three Broomsticks Butterbeer!" Ginny Weasley called out as she made her way down the stadium steps holding up a tray of the beverage.

"Omnioculars!" Fred shouted, "Witness the Boy-Who-Lived, the Gryffindor Wunderkind, Harry Potter defeat You-Know-Who—Because you all know who: his name is Tom Riddle—in the wizard duel of the decade! See it up close from the comfort of your seats with these special edition omnioculars!"

All across the half-filled Dartmoor Quidditch Trillenium stadium, witches and wizards were suddenly finding themselves appearing in the stands, some falling quite abruptly not having expected to be suddenly transported by portkey. A middle-aged witch with silvery white hair landed and fell on her rear, bemusedly holding a quill and parchment in her hand with the initials W.W.W. spelled out on the envelope it had come in. Before the witch even had a chance to take in her surroundings, the parchment leapt out of her hands and transformed into floating mouth. The woman flinched away, expecting the noisy embarrassment of a howler, but when confetti shot out of the envelope and the sound of a party horn went off, she realized this was something else.

"Congratulations! You have won free admission to the most spectacular wizard duel since Albus Dumbledore vs. Gellert Grindelwald! Witness fate play out and prophecy be fulfilled! In the meantime, enjoy free refreshments and make yourselves comfortable! The duel may begin any minute!"

An upbeat song from the Weird Sisters was playing around the area and every now and again fireworks would go off, sometimes taking the form of Harry Potter, a phoenix, or the logo of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

"Pumpkin pasties, treacle tarts, and Berties Everyflavor Beans!" Neville Longbottom called out. Several of Harry's classmates had been recruited for the event, and with Professor McGonagall as the new Hogwarts Headmaster, it hadn't been difficult to convince her to let them join in.

"Ladies and Gentleman!" George's voice boomed out. "You are all about to witness history! Have no fear, these Quidditch stands are still heavily warded. Nothing from inside the stadium can hurt you. In just a few minutes you will witness Harry Potter, our good friend, fighting for all of us, preparing to Vanquish Tom Riddle, for the fourth and final time! While we wait for the duel to begin, here are some words from my brother, the wizard who predicted the Chudley Cannons' victory, Ronald Billius Weasley, the seer!"

From next to George, an annoyed voice called out "Oy! There was no call to tell the whole stadium my middle name!"

And then a large spectral image appeared in the middle of the stadium. A perfect recreation of Ron's prophecy given at Albus Dumbledore's funeral was projected to remind everyone of that prediction.

"DOOM! The doom of the Dark Lord is nigh! He who was marked as equal shall gather the power the Dark Lord knows not. Before the ninth month dies the doom shall be set and the Boy Who Lived shall not be touched by the dark power. The doom of the Dark Lord is nigh!"

After a few minutes, the announcements repeated with the stadium had reached nearly three fourths capacity. But then the music stopped, the fireworks ceased, and a cheer went up as Harry Potter arrived in the middle of the stadium in a flash of phoenix fire.

A moment later, the Dark Lord Voldemort and Severus Snape arrived together and the crowd gasped.

Weasley Seer

Three weeks earlier:

The third meeting of the Order of the Phoenix since the battle of at the Ministry was called to order with Mad-Eye-Moody sitting next to Harry at his right hand, while Albus remained perched directly behind him. The phoenix on occasion could add some information, but it seemed he could only help with happy or positive comments. So, it was a part Harry's plan that the group was being worked out, with Mad-Eye Moody deciding on operations. There were tricks and traps that an inexperienced wizard, no matter how powerful, could fall into, and Moody was there to keep Harry and the Order out of such pitfalls.

"Shacklebolt," the gruff ex-auror barked, "what's the report on Ministry security integrity?"

Kingsley nodded in acknowledgement, stood, and began his report. "Harry's source was accurate again. Pius Thicknesse was observed attempting to place much of the senior ministry cabinet under the Imperius curse. He has been apprehended and is currently in St. Mungo's under suspicion of being under the same curse. Hopefully the course of potions he is being put on will give him the willpower to break free of the imperius. So far, it seems we have been successful in isolating suspected Death Eaters and preventing any potential takeover."

"Keep up the vigilance!" Moody replied, praising the efforts of the auror. "Having the Ministry clear of Death Eater control will go a long way to keeping the casualties in this war down."

"Speaking of which," Harry said, "we're about to face the worst of it. According to my source in the Death Eater's inner circle, Tom has gotten impatient with the plan to quietly take over the Ministry and plans on inciting terror to create disarray. The Death Eaters are preparing attacks on populated areas to put the fear of Voldermort back in people's hearts. So, we're going to need to be ready to step in, as are the aurors."

"So, we're supposed to just wait and react to the Death Eaters attacking people?" a woman's voice spoke up, questioningly. Emmeline Vance was a respected member of the Order, though Harry had only seen her in action once, at the battle of Little Hangleton. "When are we going on the attack? We know where their headquarters are, why don't we just attack them?"

"You mean," Harry said, "when am I going to just go ahead and vanquish Voldemort?"

"Well," Vance said with a shrug, "why don't you? You've publically said you can. What are you waiting for?"

"Hold on, Emmeline," Remus interrupted. "You are expecting too much of Harry. While I have every confidence in him, taking on Tom Riddle right now…"

"Remus," Harry interrupted, "it's okay." Harry nodded to Remus then turned towards Emmeline. "I want this over as fast as possible, believe me. This has been hanging over me my entire life, literally ever since my birth. But, there are a few complications. For example, Tom Riddle is partly immortal."

There were whispers that went around the table.

"Don't ask me for details, because I won't tell you for reasons Alastor would understand, but Riddle has a particular protection from death. It's why when his attempt to kill me backfired he didn't fully die. If I were to kill him right now, he would be gone for a few years, then come back again, and most likely faster than last time.

"Dumbledore was working on a plan to strip Voldemort of his protection for about the past sixteen years. There is just one more thing to be done, and after that, Tom Riddle can be defeated for good. But even then, it won't be easy. One on one, I can beat him." Harry said this with confidence, squashing the doubt he felt within him. "But surrounded by his followers, it's a lot more dangerous."

As this information reached the ears of the Order members, the phoenix perched behind Harry stirred, flapping over to Harry's shoulder before letting out a trill. With all of your help and support, Harry will be able to win the day and vanquish the darkness.

Harry, of course, relayed the message from Albus. The table became quiet, letting Harry's words sink in. He looked around at all the assembled Order members: The Weasleys, Remus, Sirius, Mad-Eye, Professor McGonagall, Shacklebolt, Tonks, Dedalus Diggle, Hestia Jones, and Severus Snape. Hagrid would have been invited, but he wouldn't have fit in the dining room and had Order business elsewhere. They were good people and capable; all they needed was hope.

"This is it. It's the critical time. With your help, we can stop the Death Eaters from recruiting more members. We can isolate Tom Riddle from his support, and then I will vanquish him, as two seers have prophesied. But until then, I need you all to be ready at a moment's notice."

There were murmurs of assent from all around.

"Alastor, you know how to organize the Order for fighting better than I do. Kingsley, I'm relying on you to have the aurors ready for action whenever the Death Eaters make a move. So, I'll leave that to you two to work out." Both men nodded, and then Alastor began handing out assignments.

The rest of the meeting went smoothly; every concern raised was dealt with and every piece of intelligence that was gathered was analyzed. Soon, everyone was preparing to leave, but before a few particular Order members could exit, Harry quickly called them over for a talk.

"Fred, George," Harry said, clapping the older Weasleys on the back. The pair had always been supportive. "I've got a special mission and I think you two are the right wizards for the job."

"What is it, Harry?" Fred asked.

"You know, whatever it is you need," George added.

"All you have to do is ask!" Fred said finishing his twin's thought.

"I need the two of you to plan a surprise party," Harry said with a Marauder's smile.

"For who?" the two redheads asked in unison.

"Voldemort," Harry answered, and then he explained his plan to the two of them.

"Professor Snape," Harry called as the twins left through the fireplace, massive grins on their faces.

The tall black haired man stood before him, impatience showing in angle of his shoulders. "Mr. Potter, whatever it is, please make it brief; I do have things of import that I should be attending to back at Hogwarts, especially with you taking time away and leaving me to instruct the lower years in addition to my already busy workload."

"Right then," Harry said. "I'll make this as short as I can. You resent me."

Severus Snape met Harry's eyes, something he had avoided ever since their legilimency battle.

"Perhaps if you were not so insufferable…" Severus began, before Harry quickly cut him off.

"And I resent you just as much. I know why you feel like you do, but that does not excuse your bullying me in my first few years at school or for you being such a git all these years."

"Your father—"

Harry did not let Snape complete a sentence, silencing him, literally, with a raised finger.

"My father bullied you the way school bullies do, the way Gryffindors and Slytherins have been at it for hundreds of years. But you resent me most of all not because of the embarrassment of that, but because my mother chose my father over you, and I'm the proof of it." Severus struggled against Harry's silencing spell, his eyes scrunched up with the effort and his fury over this treatment. "And for my part, I resent you most of all because it was partly your blabbing of Trelawney's prophecy that got my parents, my father and mother, killed."

Harry released the silence spell, but now Severus Snape was left with nothing to say, only a strangled sound escaping his lips. This last accusation hit straight to the potion master's deepest regret and guilt, and he was left loathing Harry for bringing it up and loathing himself for it being true.

"I haven't forgiven you for that, the same as you haven't forgiven yourself, and so we resent each other, deserved or not." Harry let out a breath. "But I forgave Albus for his part in this, and while he had better intentions than you did at the time, he was even more responsible than you for what happened. So, maybe one day we will both forgive each other. Maybe."

Harry paused for a moment as the current Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts professor asserted control of his emotions. However, the younger wizard still did not give the older man a chance to speak. "Of course, neither you nor Albus actually killed my mother. That was Tom Riddle. I think both of us want him dead much more than any bad feelings we have for each other, and I intend to do destroy him."

There it was. The thing that bound the two together. A love for one person and a hatred for the one who took her life.

"I know you have risked your life over and over, put yourself in an unbearable situation for years. So, I can put aside our problems to get this done."

Severus sneered. "None of this is news, Potter. Whatever epiphany you think you have had…"

Harry shook his head. "No epiphany. I just wanted this all out in the open because I'm going to ask you to do something that even Albus never asked of you."

Weasley Seer

One week before the day of the duel:

It was weeks later when Bellatrix Lestrange stood outside Obscurus Books, the bodies of three aurors at her feet, and pointed her wand towards the sky.

"Mosmordre!" She felt some satisfaction at seeing the hauntingly mesmerizing shape of her master's mark looming above the area.

Diagon Alley was mostly empty by now. The Death Eaters had appeared in force with Bellatrix in the lead. There had been an initial terrified reaction, but the group of aurors apparating onto the scene came swiftly, before her group could fully accomplish the goal of instilling fear back into the populace. By the time she had the other followers of the Dark Lord managed to kill all three of the robed Department of Magical Law Enforcement personnel, most of the pedestrians on the street had managed to disapparated away escape through the floo network.

Two of the five Death Eaters who had come with her had been felled in the struggle, but the fact that she and her cohorts had overcome the Ministry's pathetic attempt to stop them would remind the people that it was the Dark Lord who they should fear. And perhaps they would stop using the name Tom Riddle, that filthy lie spread by the Daily Prophet, rather than the true name of the Dark Lord—Voldemort, if they even dared to do that much.

All of those filthy blood traitors and Mudblood lovers were going to—

With a sudden flash of fire, a lone wizard stood on the street, the red, gold and violet feathers of a phoenix contrasting sharply with the dark robes the young man war. If that were not enough proof of who had dared to brazenly defy the Dark Lord's servants, the lightning shaped scar on his forehead certainly confirmed the fool boy's identity.

"Harry Potter!" Bellatrix cackled. "Seems you haven't learned your lesson. Last time you showed your face against me, you lost teacher."

Harry ignored the taunts and looked up in the sky where the Dark Mark hung, the snake twisting and undulating slowly in the air. Bellatrix smirked at the sight, until the boy raised one arm into the air and made a sweeping motion with his hand, as if brushing away a nuisance. And the Dark Mark dissolved and faded away into nothing!

Despite the shock of her master's design being dismissed so easily, Bellatrix quickly realized something. Potter was alone. Whatever reinforcements he expected to back him up were late, or not even coming.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, no friends coming to help you this time? Your precious Order of the Phoenix must be busy tonight, doing other things. Nobody is going to come to save you this time, little bitty Potter?"

"I know. The aurors are handling the attack on Hogsmeade, and the Order is taking care of evacuating the Bones family before Tom Riddle and what few Death Eaters are left arrive. Tom is getting rather predictable lately. The one thing I had to wait for was your location. This time, I came alone. You won't be able to hide behind targeting my friends this time, Lestrange."

With every word Bellatrix Lestrange's blood boiled hotter and hotter. How dare that impudent little brat speak that way to her? Speak that way about the Dark Lord?

"Reducto!" Her spell left her wand swiftly, before any of the other Death Eaters knew what she was planning.

Bellatrix's eyes went wide at the response from the younger wizard. Harry Potter did not move from his spot. He did not even cast a shield charm. Instead, he simply caught her spell on the tip of his wand and redirected it back at the Death Eaters next to her.

There was an explosion of rocks and earth as the curse struck the ground in front of them, and one of the dark wizards beside her was blasted backwards. The others had managed to scramble away, but were already in disarray. This was not a favorable situation.

Bellatrix attempted to disapparated, but as she started to push through the void between spaces, she was snapped back into place. Potter had put up a disapparition jinx.

The following battle was felt surreal. Potter moved with grace and speed, casting spells with such power that the air screamed with magic. The simple protego shields cast by the Death Eaters at her side were ripped apart by the boy's magic as if they were made of soap water. He turned her best dark curses into harmless magical effects; an entrail expelling curse was deflected onto a potted plant in front of a store and merely turned it into a rainbow color. Her incendio tria spell was overpowered by a simple flame freezing charm, which should have been impossible. The only spell the boy deigned to avoid through dodging aside was the cruciatus.

Bellatrix had had the pleasure of witnessing truly glorious magic before when Voldemort had graced her with a showing of his true power against lesser foes. She had seen even greater dueling skill those few times that the Dark Lord had battled against Albus Dumbledore, and it seemed that things that should have been impossible had happened, and even her master had needed to retreat. So when Bellatrix saw genius, she knew what it was.

With her fellow Death Eaters stunned, unconscious from a major blast, petrified respectively, Bellatrix Lestrange was expecting a similar fate when a bright yellow hex struck her. However, instead of being stunned or incapacitated some other way, the witch instead felt her skin begin to crawl, her eyes twitched, and her head shook. Something was happening to her body.

Harry Potter started snickering before bursting out laughing entirely.

"What are you laughing at?" Bellatrix demanded.

"You should see yourself," Harry replied between guffaws. "I'm sure Neville is going to appreciate this."

Bellatrix knew it was foolish to take her eyes off of an enemy, but the younger wizard was making no move to attack her, and if he had wished, could probably have finished her off. So, Bellatrix looked in window of Obscurus Books and caught her own reflection.

Staring back at her was the face of a doll. Her dark curly hair had straightened and turned into a plastic blond. Her eyes had enlarged to an absurd, doll-like size and changed into a glassy blue. Her face had puffed out like plastic, with a rosy hue on her cheeks. Bellatrix Lestrange had become a living baby doll from the neck up.

She screamed in rage.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The Killing Curse was powerful and unblocakable. For those who had the capacity for such murder in their souls, it was a powerful weapon. However, the incantation was longer than typical combat spells, not suitable against a mobile, alert duelist. It was an attack you would save for when you had your opponent staggered or if you needed them to force them to move to set up another killing blow. She had only used the curse out of frustration, Bellatrix knew that Harry Potter would easily avoid her attack.

Except that he didn't.

The green bolt of death traveled true and Potter stood there, an odd smile on his face. And when the spell struck him, the smile never wavered. Harry Potter did not flinch, did not fall to his knees, did not react at all. And he did not die.

Bellatrix shook her head in denial.

"Really, Bealltrix? You couldn't kill me in the Ministry of Magic with that curse, it was foolish of you to think you could defeat me with it now."

"Avada Kedavra!" The second Killing Curse also struck true. There was almost no reaction again, though there was some small hitch in Potter's step.

"As you can see, I know how to overcome the Killing Curse. I would let you go back and tell your master all about it," Harry said, "But, I think I'll save that as a surprise, and you're an evil old bint that deserves your fate for what you did to Neville's parents."

And then Harry Potter's wand flashed forward and another beam of yellow light struck the witch. Bellatrix felt the same sensation that had happened to her head repeat with the rest of her body, until she went completely rigid. The last sight she saw with her plastic doll eyes before her body fell over was one of the Death Eaters, the one who had only been stunned, disaparating away as the anti-appartition jinx was lifted or faded away.

Weasley Seer

One hour before the duel:

Severus Snape was sitting at his desk grading essays from First Year students on the use of charms to repel dark creatures, grumbling about inane Gryffindors, though to be fair this year's batch was at least competent when it came to practical defensive magic for their respective years. Grammar, spelling, and logic, however were an entirely different matter. He was just about to mark the parchment with an Acceptable grade when he felt the locket in his pocket suddenly grow hot. The Potions Master and Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher closed his eyes and settled his mind before pulling the gold locket out of his robe pocket and opened it. Inside, was an engraving of a snake, which, as soon as he looked on it stretched out and then was sliced in two.

Potter.

How he hated that boy. His impudence. His arrogance. His stupid father's face.

How dare that boy think he could command him as Albus Dumbledore had! The son of his tormentor. The Gryffindor darling.

Severus let his rage, his loathing for Potter, every slight the boy had ever done to him (imagined or otherwise) replay in his mind. No more. No more would he have to pretend to follow that fool.

Severus gathered up the coins, special portkeys, from his desk and then proceeded to the fireplace where he tossed some floo powder, turning the flame an eldritch green.

"Malfoy manor," Severus stated before disappearing through the floo network.

The dark haired wizard stepped from the fireplace to be greeted by a trio of wands pointed directly at his body.

"Get your wands out of my face, you fools," Severus snarled at the Death Eaters who tried to impede his movements. "If I were an enemy of the Dark Lord, the wards would not have let me in."

"How do we know you's really Severus Snape?" Thorfinn Rowle asked.

Having no time to bother with imbeciles, the Potions Master silently cast levicorpus. Rowle was yanked up by his ankle to remain suspended there.

"Aye, that's Severus Snape, alright," one of the other two acknowledged. That had been Severus' signature spell back at Hogwarts. While many others had learned and taken up the spell during his days at Hogwarts, the use of the jinx in this situation was easily recognizable. "Either that or he'll be dead when the Dark Lord sees him."

Severus let his cloak billow behind him as he walked past the floo entry guards at Malfoy Manor, heading for his master. When he arrived in the dining hall what served as the headquarters for the Death Eaters for the time being, he noted how few Death Eaters there were left. Of the Inner Circle, only a few remained: Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange as well as Anonin Dolohov and Amycus Carrow. Oddly missing was Lucius Malfoy. Of course, the "host" family had been out of Lord Voldemort's favor since his return and learning of some kind of failure, so it was not too much of a surprise. The other half dozen or so Death Eaters present were lesser, less talented, less competent members.

Severus Snape dropped to his knees. "Master," he said, "I have come with urgent news."

Lord Voldemort rose and glided over to where Snape knelt. "And what is this news, Severus," he asked, his voice a quiet hiss. This false calm was a bad sign. The Dark Lord was agitated.

When Severus looked up, he was met with the burning red eyes of the Dark Lord.

"I know where Harry Potter is. The Order of the Phoenix has emergency portkeys that take the user to a safe house. Only those holding these coins can enter," Severus explained. "Potter, his mudblood girlfriend, and the Weasley blood-traitor are all hiding there now."

Voldemort stared for several long moments into Severus Snape's eyes and mind. After a few seconds, he smiled and nodded.

"Severus, my most faithful servant. After all this time you continue to succeed where others have failed.

"The Potter brat is strong," Severus noted as he stood up.

"Rodolphus, Rabastan, Dolohov, Creasley, Gibbon," the Dark Lord commanded. "You will come with me."

Severus handed each of the Death Eaters one of the specially designed portkey coins. "Master, after this, the Order will know of my true loyalty. Let me, at least, see the end of Potter."

Voldemort smiled thinly. "Yes, of course, you may accompany me to my victory, Severus."

The Potion's Master handed the snake faced wizard a portkey, this one slightly bent, like the one in his own left hand.

"I am afraid the activation word will be unpleasant," Snape said as he held up a pre-written piece of paper with the phrase written on it.

The Dark Lord sneered. "Fitting," he said.

And then they all repeated the words on the paper.

"Doom. Doom. Doom."

Weasley Seer

Voldemort felt the pull of the portkey and the familiar sensation of being whisked away over a great distance. As the brief journey ended, he exerted his magic and flew down to the ground at a graceful glide rather than be subjected to the uncomfortable force of re-entry as he once had in his use. Next to him, his servant was kicking his feet, slowing his own decent in the normal, more ungainly way.

Unfortunately, the Dark Lord noticed at the same time that he was not arriving in any sort of "safe house" as he had expected. Instead, he was at some kind of large stadium. Surrounded by a strange crowd.

But, at least, Harry Potter was there as Severus had promised, though the boy standing across from him had far too smug of an expression on his face.

"Severus," Voldemort called with annoyance, "what is the meaning of this?"

The potions master had landed a short distance from Voldemort and was already walking briskly away. "I am openly betraying you," the wizard answered as he pivoted and drew his wand pointing it a the dark wizard. "Obviously."

The surprise at this turn of events was total. Voldemort, the most skilled legilimens of all had seen into the man's mind. If Severus has been under the imperius curse, not likely given the Potion Master's strength of will, the dark lord would have seen the effects in his mind. Severus Snape despised Harry Potter. The man wanted nothing more than to destroy his enemy! How could this be?

"Explain yourself, Severus," the snake faced wizard said, raising his wand towards the man. "Perhaps I will make your death less painful than I will make Harry Potter's."

"I am choosing the winning side, Tom," Severus said. "Potter will defeat you, so your threat is empty. You are doomed."

The curse that left Voldemort's wand was fast and vicious. It contained all the rage, hate, and frustration at his Death Eaters' recent defeats. It was a reaction to the unexpected betrayal, the realization that, somehow, Severus Snape had bested him with his occlumency, and worst of all, had chosen Harry Potter over him.

Severus Snape deflected the curse.

It was a near thing. The Hogwarts Professor had needed to struggle to force the powerful curse off, but in the end the dark magic had skidded to the side where it left a black mark on the grassy surface of the Quidditch pitch. Anger flared even more greatly in Voldemort's heart.

"If you must know what has changed, the answer is nothing. I have hated you ever since you killed Lily," Snape said. "I may despise her son, but I hate you a thousand times more."

"You will die for this," Voldemort promised, red eyes blazing. He let loose a blasting hex this time.

Severus readied his wand, but before the hex struck, Harry Potter had moved to stand between Severus and the Dark Lord and easily shielded both of them from the attack.

"No," Harry said, "he won't. Because you will be dead. Severus, step back." At Harry's insistence, the Potions Master withdrew, leaving Harry to face the dark wizard alone. "This is between me and you, Tom. My name is Harry Potter. You killed my parents; prepare to die."

Voldemort laughed. Potter had no idea. No matter how strong the boy had become there was no threat. So long as his horcruxes existed, death would never claim him.

"Kill me?" Voldemort cried. "You cannot kill me. I cannot die! I am the greatest wizard to ever live!"

"Albus Dumbledore was the greatest wizard," Harry retorted. "And I have already beaten you three times: twice as a student and once as an infant. And now that I have mastered magic you cannot even imagine, you are doomed. Doomed."

"I killed Albus Dumbledore," Voldemort shrieked. How could anyone still doubt his superiority after his victory?

At that, the phoenix on Harry's shoulder took flight, giving a cry as it circled around the stadium briefly. Yes, I did die, Tom, but I live on now. Darkness like yours will always lose to the light.

Harry interpreted for Albus as the red and gold magical creature flew around before finally disappearing in a display of magical fire. Voldemort felt the magic from the creature, and while it was different from before, the dark wizard could have no doubt that the rumor was true: somehow Dumbledore had risen from the ashes of his death to become a phoenix. Dumbledore had found immortality.

No matter. The old man was no longer a wizard, so was no longer of consequence.

However, what was of consequence was the fact that there was an audience here, a large one. For the first time since arriving by the trick portkey, Voldemort had taken stock of his entire surroundings. It had been obvious from the start that he was on some kind of Quidditch pitch, but the fact that there were thousands of witches and wizards all around had been lost in the excitement of the initial confrontation. The dark lord felt some degree of worry. It was one thing to face any single wizard, or even a group of witches and wizards. It was another to possibly have to defend against a thousand magicals!

Vodemort disapp—the attempt to disapparate failed. He tried again. He managed to pop half away, but was immediately forced back. Somehow, Potter had made an anti-apparition jinx that could prevent his escape. Yet another reason to kill the boy.

"Trying to run, Tom?" Harry asked. "Why would you need to run if you can't be killed?" Harry gestured to the audience, separated from the arena floor by a warded shield. "You know, the arena has been charmed so that the audience can hear everything. If you run, they will know you are afraid of me. But you have no need to worry about them. They can't interfere. I am your doom."

The boy had confidence. But against Voldemort? He had no hope. If he were foolish enough to face him one on one, the boy would die. So be it. This would be the place of their final battle.

Voldemort began the duel with a quick, silent curse. Potter deflected it, with far more ease than Severus had, and began casting curses of his own. Truly, the boy had made extraordinary progress in a very short period of time. It was a shame a wizard so talented would waste his life opposing him. But even if the boy wanted to join the Death Eaters, there was no way to let him live with such a prophecy out there as there was. Voldemort had to kill the boy to disprove it.

Truthfully, if measured at the same age Voldemort had to admit he had not achieved Potter's level of skill with charms or curses. Then again, as a young man, Tom Riddle had only ever had to deal with other students at school. Had he been destined to face off with someone in a duel to the death, he would surely have learned even more. The crowd was justified in cheering as he and the boy put on a display of magic few had ever seen the equal of.

Potter moved like a master, not only sidestepping spells rather than relying on shielding more often than not, but also creating angles that made it difficult for Voldemort to deflect them as well. The boy was able to counterpell curses and jinxes with alarming accuracy, showing a repertoire of magic more suited to a dueling champion than a student. Even more frustrating, Potter had apparently trained extensively with Albus Dumbledore, mimicking the old wizard's style of transfiguring the environment around them and using that to both shield and attack. Fortunately, the boy's spells lacked the same punch and power as Dumbledore, so there was almost no….

Some kind of lavender colored curse slipped past Voldemort's guard, pierced his shield, and struck his thigh. Immediately, the area the curse had struck began transforming from clothing and flesh into glass. The area quickly spread from his thigh over his entire body in a matter of mere seconds.

No, Voldemort denied. NO.

There was an intense sound of glass shattering and Voldemort's form shifted into that of a serpent made entirely of fire. The stadium filled with the oppressive dark magic of Voldemort's full power unleashed, as the fiery snake that was the dark wizard struck out towards the young fool who had dared to attempt to transform him!

There were screams from the audience all around.

Impossibly, Harry Potter apparated away using the combat form of the technique, turning into a white smoke that escaped the burning serpent. It should have been impossible with an anti-apparition jinx up, yet somehow the boy had managed it. Voldemort, seeking to conserve his strength for what was to come, reverted back to his wizard form, snake-face and all.

"Clever spell," the Dark Lord praised. "However, you will not fool me again with such a trick, Potter."

Harry Potter nodded his head. "You're right; that's not what kills you. It will be by my hand that you die as Trelawney prophesied, but as with everything, Tom, your death today is your own doing."

"Foolish boy! I am Lord Voldemort! I cannot die!"

Harry shook his head. "You are already dead, you just don't know it yet. But before I kill you, I have a few surprises to share. For example, I have discovered the magic to overcome the Killing Curse, did you know that?"

"You liar, boy!"

"Then prove me wrong," the impudent young wizards said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Kill me with the curse that bounced off of me when I was just an infant. Use the curse that none of your Death Eaters could defeat me with. You are supposed to be the Dark Lord, aren't you, Tom? Show me then. I won't even move."

Of all the temerity, this fool dared to challenge him so openly! And there Harry Potter was, standing still, arms wide open, his wand not even in his hands!

He was the Dark Lord Voldemort, nobody could withstand his curse! He would slay the boy right here and now and leave his mark in the sky above this arena as a reminder to all that there was no witch nor wizard past or present who could defy him! He twirled his wand, gathering all the force of power within him and brought it all to bear in one devastating blast!

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The bolt of sickly green death that shot from Voldemort's yew and Phoenix feather wand was brighter than sunlight and hotter than lava as it sped across the arena floor. Where that curse traveled, the grass beneath it was instantly scorched and blackened. The air it passed through became putrid, as every microorganism within it perished instantly.

Few could have evaded that curse once it left the tip of Voldemort's wand, though the boy surely could have. Yet, he did not, he merely stood there with an eerie smile on his lips as the spell…simply vanished as it touched him. After a second, the Boy-Who-Lived looked at his two out stretched arms in turn, then back to Voldemort.

"Was that it?" Harry Potter asked. "Do it again."

There were gasps and murmurs from the audience, but none were so shocked as Voldemort himself. It was impossible. Impossible! Nobody survived the Killing Curse when Voldemort cast it! Even in the rare case that a strong wizard managed to throw off the curse when cast by a lesser Death Eater the intended victim would almost always collapse, and at the very least would stagger. But the boy had not even moved! It was as if he simply absorbed the spell, which was completely impossible!

"Avada Kedavra!" The second curse, not nearly as potent as the first, had the exact same outcome. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" Voldemort dug deep for the third, drawing on enough magic to even make even himself feel tired. Yet, there stood Harry Potter, quirky smile on his face, without even the smallest hitch in his step.

"I told you," Potter said, voice slightly lilting in mockery. "Your curse cannot kill me. You are doomed."

For the first time in decades, a thrill of fear trembled through Tom Riddle's heart.

Weasley Seer

Thirty six minutes and twelve seconds before the duel:

Harry Potter appeared in the nearly empty Trillenium Quidditch Arena. He took two steps over to the right and used his wand to mark the spot with a faintly glowing 'X' shape which only a blood relative of the caster could see.

"Is it time?" Hermione's voice called out to him.

"Right," Harry said affirmatively. "Everything will go according to plan," Harry told her. Hermione visibly relaxed at hearing this, her anxious expression replaced with a calm smile that warmed the young wizard's heart.

Several witches and wizards gathered around Harry, all familiar faces. Naturally his godfather, Sirius Black was there, as was Remus Lupin, his father's best friends. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley would both play important roles in what was to come, and they would do spectacularly, Harry knew. Also helping out in no small way, creating the atmosphere that would be needed were several more members of the Weasley Family—Fred, George, and Ginny. Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, as well as Dennis and Collin Creevey were all there.

"Fred, George, start activating the portkeys in fifteen minutes. You've done a marvelous job preparing the stadium. Neville, Luna, Dennis, Collin, please start getting the refreshments ready for our guests. Dobby, Kreacher, and Winky are waiting in the kiosks and will provide everything. We will need as much of the crowd to stay in a positive mood as we can. Sirius, Remus, Ron, Hermione, I'll need your help setting up the arena floor." Harry pulled out a parchment from his robe and pointed to a diagram of the arena. "Transfigure these locations and connect them along these lines. Hermione, you can help me with setting up the golems. You did much of the spellwork on them after all."

It took Harry and his friends just over ten minutes to create a series of tunnels and enchanted trap doors across the arena floor. The Marauders and Hermione had worked along with Harry for the past month on preparing the spells they would need, so it only took a few waves of their wands and an incantation or two to set up. The actual tunnel systems and the ingenious method for instantly entering and exiting had been almost trivial. It was the ring of invisible mist around each one and the magical projections they displayed in all directions that had been the real challenge. Hermione had dubbed it "imagemist" though nobody outside of Harry and his friends knew of its existence. Eventually, Hermione would reveal it to the world, but for today, secrecy was the key to successfully pranking Voldemort to death.

Once the grounds were set up according to the plan Harry had given out, he walked over to where he had drawn the X and held out his hands. From out of nowhere it seemed, a trunk appeared, and Harry grasped the levitating object and pulled it away from the figure hidden beneath the invisibility cloak. Before getting too far, he whispered, just loud enough to be heard, "You have nothing to worry about. You'll see." And then he set the trunk at a precise position in the middle of the arena floor.

Just twenty minutes before his upcoming duel, Harry waited in one of the observation boxes, just in time to witness the arrival of three entirely expected guests. Draco, Narcissa, and Lucius Malfoy arrived somewhat more disheveled than their usual proper state, but it was their beleaguered demeanor that was the biggest difference from the family's usual state. Lucius in particular looked very apprehensive.

"Draco, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said by way of greeting. "You have upheld your end of our bargain. After today, you will not need to worry about Tom Riddle anymore."

"You had best be sure of this, Potter," Lucius threatened, though entirely emptily. "My family has risked everything for you."

"I think you have that backwards, Mr. Malfoy, I am the one who is risking everything for you. But thanks in small part to your help, I am sure of my victory, so you do have my gratitude. You will face some penalties for your past crimes, Lucius, but I can assure you it will not be as severe as Azkaban would have been, and after that, we can wipe the slate clean for the Malfoy family." Harry made a gesture with his free hand and the observation box was disillusioned. "As agreed, your participation in the defeat of Riddle will not be revealed until after it is done. Now, I have some things to prepare."

Harry made his way back to the arena floor and disillusioned himself just before the first of the Weasley Twins' lucky prank victims began arriving. Harry took the next several minutes to enjoy the orderly chaos that the pair had created with their enchanted quills and letters sent to select groups across Wizarding Britain. The occasional fireworks and the appearance of the Weird Sisters performing live prevented all but a few of the arrivals from seeking to leave. A few well-placed Confundus charms on the exits handled those exceptions quite nicely.

And then it was time. Harry stepped out into the open and dropped his disillusionment charm. He called Albus to him, making it appear as if he and the phoenix arrived together. A cheer went up from the crowd. Fred and George had chosen the attendees well, as they were universally his supporters. Then, a gasp could be heard from the crowd as Voldemort suddenly appeared, gliding into the stadium with Severus Snape kicking his feet to keep from hitting the ground with too much force from the portkey spell.

"Severus," the snake-faced dark wizard called out with a hiss, "what is the meaning of this?"

The potions master had landed a short distance from Voldemort and was already walking briskly in Harry's direction. "I am openly betraying you," the wizard answered as he pivoted and drew his wand pointing it at Tom Riddle. "Obviously."

"Explain yourself, Severus," the snake faced wizard said, raising his wand towards the man. "Perhaps I will make your death less painful than I will make Harry Potter's."

"I am choosing the winning side, Tom," Severus said. "Potter will defeat you, so your threat is empty. You are doomed."

Harry almost grinned at the sound of Snape's slow, mocking drawl targeted at Riddle, but the quick curse the Potions Master barely managed to deflect sobered Harry up quickly. The younger wizard quickly moved to interpose himself between the man who called himself Voldemort and Severus Snape.

"If you must know what has changed, the answer is nothing. I have hated you ever since you killed Lily," Snape said. "I may despise her son, but I hate you a thousand times more."

"You will die for this," Riddle promised, red eyes blazing. He let loose a blasting hex this time just as Harry arrived.

Silently casting a protego totalus spell, Harry Potter shielded both of them from the attack.

"No," Harry said, "he won't. Because you will be dead. Severus, step back." At Harry's insistence, the Potions Master withdrew, leaving Harry to face the dark wizard alone. The Potions master would find his way into the stands, Harry knew, so he maintained his focus on his foe. "This is between me and you, Tom. My name is Harry Potter. You killed my parents; prepare to die."

The evil wizard laughed. He was still fully confident in the outcome. But that would change.

"Kill me?" Tom Riddle cried. "You cannot kill me. I cannot die! I am the greatest wizard to ever live!"

"Albus Dumbledore was the greatest wizard to ever live," Harry retorted. "And I have already beaten you three times: twice as a student and once as an infant. And now that I have mastered magic you cannot even imagine….you are doomed. Doomed."

Step Two: Remind Tom Riddle of the prophecies of his death. Remind him of his past failures.

"I killed Albus Dumbledore," the man shrieked. Obviously using the Heamaster's name was effective.

"Albus did die, he admits, but as you can see, he is alive now. And he said your kind of darkness will always lose to the light," Harry said as Albus flew around the arena, circling the dark wizard before vanishing in phoenix fire. What was to come would not suit the nature of the magical creature so attuned to the light. He would not need Albus for what was to come.

It was the flight of the phoenix that made Riddle aware of the crowd, Harry noticed. Seeing thousands of wizards all gathered together made the man fearful. Great. Harry could feel it the moment his opponent tried to disapparate and failed.

"Trying to run, Tom?" Harry asked. "Why would you need to escape if you can't be killed?" Harry gestured to the audience, separated from the arena floor by a faintly glowing warded shield. "You know, the arena has been charmed so that the audience can hear everything. If you run, they will know you are afraid of me. But you have no need to worry about them. They can't interfere. I am your doom."

Had Tom Riddle decided to put all of his effort into escaping, there was little doubt in Harry's mind that he would have succeeded. While the arena was well-shielded, if someone as powerful as he or Riddle tried to rip through it, they would eventually break through the wards. Then there was the ability to fly and Tom would only need to go high enough to escape the anti-apparition jinx. But the threat of everyone present believing he feared a student still at Hogwarts was too great for the ego of the man who named himself a dark lord to take.

Tom Riddle began their battle with a quick, silent curse. Harry would be the first to admit that his opponent was a truly great opponent. Not fully on par with Albus Dumbledore, but more skilled than Flitwick by a wide margin and, admittedly, more polished and experienced than Harry himself.

In order to keep up, Harry had to use everything he had learned while training with the former Headmaster. He conjured physical shields out of the air, sent up sprays of dirt which he then transfigured into projectiles of all sizes, the smallest being the most deadly. But Tom Riddle reacted to such attempts with incredible reflexes and countered with barrages of curses and hexes. Fortunately, Harry had managed to increase the speed of his own casting since their last encounter and managed to keep up, and most importantly, maintain good defensive and offensive angles of attack.

The trick was to know when to do which, and Harry had an advantage in that regard which Tom Riddle would not realize until too late. The Heir of Slytherin was a master of charms, curses, and defensive magic, but there was one area where the wizard was lacking: Transfiguration. Not that Riddle was deficient compared to the average adult wizard, mind you, but he was a far sight from Dumbledore, and almost certainly inferior to Professor McGonagall in this regard. Which was how Harry managed to slip a transfiguration curse through the man's otherwise impeccable guard.

The lavender colored curse pierced Riddle's shield, which was not designed to repel magic of this sort, and struck the dark wizard's thigh. Immediately, the area the curse had struck began transforming from clothing and flesh into glass. The area quickly spread from Riddle's thigh over his entire body in a matter of mere seconds. But Harry knew this was not a winning stroke.

There was the sound of glass shattering and Tom Riddle's form shifted into that of a serpent made entirely of fire. The stadium filled with the oppressive dark magic his full power unleashed, as the fiery snake that was the dark wizard struck out towards Harry.

There were screams from the audience all around.

Albus Dumbledore would have countered that fiery form with a tremendous gout of water. Unfortunately, Harry had yet to master that devastatingly deceptive attack. In truth, he had no counter to what was essentially a lesser form of fiendfyre.

So, Harry ran.

Of course, nobody saw this, and he didn't use his legs. He had slipped below ground, replaced by a golem that looked just like him as Harry himself was whisked through the underground tunnel by a summoning charm. Up above, the imagemist was doing its job, making it appear as if Harry had used combat apparition to escape. Harry emerged from the tunnel just as the image in the mist faded, leaving him facing a baffled dark wizard.

"Clever spell," Riddle said. "However, you will not fool me again with such a trick, Potter."

Harry nodded his head. "You're right, that's not what kills you. It will be by my hand that you die as Trelawney prophesied, but as with everything, Tom, your death today is your own doing."

Step Three: Make Voldemort doubt his own power while believing more in Harry's.

"Foolish boy! I am Lord Voldemort! I cannot die!"

Harry shook his head. "You are already dead, you just don't know it yet. But before I kill you, I have a few surprises. For example, I have discovered the magic to overcome the Killing Curse, did you know that?"

"You liar, boy!" The blazing, angry red eyes gave away that the taunt had worked perfectly.

"Then prove me wrong," Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Kill me with the curse that bounced off of me when I was just an infant. Use the curse that none of your Death Eaters could defeat me with. You are supposed to be the Dark Lord, aren't you, Tom? Show me then. I won't even move."

Fortunately, Harry's enemy wasn't a basilisk, because he was glaring at Harry with an intensity that would have been deadly. Riddle twirled his wand, a powerful aura surrounding the man.

Harry had no intention of being struck by that curse. He activated the next trapdoor and was instantly replaced with a perfect replica of himself, with Voldemort none the wiser because of the image shown through the mist. Below the surface, Harry moved his arms out wide as if to invite the spell to strike him and the golem above mimicked him perfectly.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The problem with just using the imagemist was that it would not impede the curse at all. Riddle would see the cures pass through the image and strike something behind and know that he was being deceived. The problem with using golems, Harry's first idea which he had remembered from his battle with the Hungarian Horntail during the Triwizard tournament, was that even a weak killing curse would destroy them. Even if it was replaced immediately by another, there would be the image of the first's destruction. But by combining the illusionary mist and the golem idea, Harry and his friends had come up with a perfect way to fake taking a Killing Curse and appear to not be affected at all.

After a second, still below the surface, Harry very theatrically looked at his two outstretched arms in turn, then back to Riddle as if he had expected more. The replacement golem that had sprung up within the imagemist after the destruction of the first mimicked Harry perfectly.

"Was that it?" Harry Potter taunted, "Do it again."

There were gasps and murmurs from the audience, but none were so shocked as Riddle himself. Harry's amusement at apoplectic reaction on his enemy's snake-like face showed on the golem, making the effect even more infuriating to his foe.

"Avada Kedavra!" The second curse, not nearly as potent as the first, had the exact same outcome as the first. The golem was destroyed, but the image within the mist remained static until the a third golem replaced it, at which time the mist returned to its invisible state. Of course, the real cleverness came in making it so that anyone watching from any angle would see Harry still there despite the change in perspective. Good thing Hermione was still more brilliant than him.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Tom Riddle was panting slightly from the exertion of this casting, but all he had to show for it was another destroyed golem, and he didn't even know about that.

This time Harry Potter himself moved back to take the place of the golem that had become nothing but fine dust. "I told you," he said mockingly. "Your curse cannot kill me. You are doomed."

Harry could not judge Tom Riddle's emotional state from his eyes—the blood red color did not change or give anything away. However, the facial expressions that Tom's snake-like visage went through displayed showed a level of incredulity that fit perfectly with Harry's plan.

"There will be no coming back for you this time, Tom," Harry said, walking calmly over to the trunk he had concealed on the stadium ground. "This time, I will finish you for good, just as I did the memory within your diary."

Muffliato Maximus, Harry cast silently. This next part he did not want anyone in the audience hearing. Who knew what damage it would do if people heard about the horcruxes? For the next few minutes of conversation, the audience would only hear indecipherable voices, though they would still see everything.

"Stop calling me that name! I am Lord Voldemort!" Tom spat.

"Don't be so childish," Harry retorted. "Playing pretend doesn't change the fact that only half of your heritage is from a Pureblood line. Of course, since you were resurrected using the blood of a squib, does that even matter now?"

Step Four: Destroy Tom Riddle's belief in his own immortality.

Harry waved his hand and the trunk unlocked with a click that only he and Riddle could hear. The lid of the trunk opened and several ruined items levitated out. A familiar book, pierced through with a snake's fang. A broken ring. A destroyed locket. A goblet that had been rent beyond repair and corroded. A headpiece that had been cloven in two. One by one, the objects floated over to the formerly immortal wizard for him to inspect.

"Careless of you to leave pieces of your soul lying around all over the place. Really, Tom, it was foolish to ever split your soul in the first place."

For as second, Tom stood still, his whole frame shaking in rage. Harry couldn't blame the man for his anger; he would be angry too if he had just realized that several pieces of his soul were gone forever.

"YOU!" Riddle unleashed a blasting curse that would have detonated the entire area if Harry hadn't been ready with Protego Totalus shield.

"No," Harry responded harshly, "You. You did this all to yourself. You split your soul. You committed murder. And it was you who gave me the means to both find," Harry tapped his forehead where he revealed a pale, thin scar, "and destroy every last piece of you. Isn't there usually a snake that likes to hang around you? I wonder where it could be…"

"Nagini!" Tom hissed in alarm.

"When was the last time you tried to see through that serpent's eyes, Tom?" Harry taunted. And then the bisected corpse of the snake rose out of the trunk as well. "Sending her after Bathilda Bagshot was another mistake."

"When I kill you, you will simply die this time," Harry continued as Tom Riddle anguished over the loss of his familiar, and the last horcrux he had made. "There is no protection for you. Even that foul bit of your soul you unknowingly marked me with has been removed and destroyed," Harry explained calmly. There was nothing left of his scar abut a thin, pale line. "Nobody will come for you. Your closest followers are either dead, or have betrayed you. Even your last remaining Death Eaters took a one-way portkey to Azkaban. You are weak, alone, and doomed."

"No! NO!" Riddle denied and began frantically casting curse after curse at the Boy-Who-Lived.

Only now did Harry Potter release his own full power, filling the stadium with the aura of his own strength. Now that his opponent was weakened, Harry's strength felt overpowering. Riddle's curses rebounded off of Harry's shields, some even being casually knocked aside. The audience, once again able to clearly hear what was taking place, began to chant and cheer for Harry. There were cries of "The Boy Who Lived!" and "Potter! Potter!" But it was the chant that was taken up by his friends that ultimately drove Tom Riddle to backpedal away.

"Weak, alone, and doomed!" Sirius began.

"Weak, alone, and doomed!" Ron and Hermione joined in.

"Weak, alone, and doomed!" all of Harry's friends chanted.

"Weak, alone, and doomed!" the crowd repeated, growing louder and louder every second, until it was an overwhelming force.

Against Tom Riddle at his full strength, Harry knew he would not prevail. There was just too much of a gap between their magical strengths for Harry to realistically be able to win in purely magical duel. Even as talented as Harry was and with as much training as he had gotten in the past few years, Tom was more skilled and knowledgeable, with decades of lived experience Harry lacked. However, a demoralized, frightened, and doubtful Tom was another matter altogether. His spells were no longer overwhelming, and with the balance of belief of the crowd firmly on Harry's side, everything was going his way.

Backing up, throwing out blasting hexes and dark curses in a desperate attempt to ward off an enemy who had somehow become impossibly strong, Tom Riddle prepared to make a final stand, reaching deep into his magic for a final attack.

"I am Lord Voldemort! You cannot kill me!"

The dark wizard's foot stepped over the X Harry had placed on the ground before the start of the duel.

"I already have," Harry said, activating the last trapdoor and imagemist combination.

Step One: Kill Voldemort.

To the onlookers, it appeared as if Harry had used combat apparition to appear behind his opponent, turning into an insubstantial mist to cover the distance between them. Harry, however, witnessed himself emerging from the tunnel where he had remained invisible and hidden throughout the entire duel, the hidden Harry watching everything unfold and taking notes on the positions where future Harry had stood. That Harry Potter thrust the Sword of Gryffindor through the dark wizard's back. Tom Riddle's red eyes went wide.

"You did this to yourself," Harry said to the dying man. "You killed my parents. You split your own soul. You sent the basilisk whose venom is eating your insides up right now against me. You tried to destroy me for my entire life. And now it is over."

Riddle screamed as his body burned away from both the venom of the basilisk within the goblin wrought blade, and from Harry's touch, which still held the protection of his mother's love, which was caustic to the evil fiend who had tried to murder him Then there was nothing left.

"It's over for me," Harry said to himself. "You've got quite the hour ahead of you, though."

Present Harry nodded, handing the Sword of Gryffindor over to his future self. Then he reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out a time turner. "One turn?" he asked.

"One turn," Harry answered himself. And then one Harry vanished into the past to finish what had just concluded, and the other let the imagemist fade away, leaving him alone in the stadium. He was ready to live out the rest of his life.

Author's Note: There will be a short epilogue