Published: January 10th 2025, 6:44:35 pm
"Harry Potter," Voldemort hissed, his voice slicing through the chaos of the battlefield like a blade. "The Boy Who Lived. How poetic that you should die here, where it all began."
“Oh, shut the fuck up, you whiny bitch!” Harry growled from behind the shield he put up as tendrils of dark energy tried to rip him to shreds.
As expected, Voldemort became enraged and screamed, followed by the Dark Lord’s magical attack intensifying. Harry grunted as his shield strained against the modified withering curse unleashed by the Dark Lord. Frankly, he was a bit impressed Voldemort could unleash such power without any consequences, considering the botched ritual and its aftereffects weighing down the Dark Lord.
However, when Voldemort was forced to pull back, Harry was given a respite. This was thanks to Ivan and some other hit wizards who engaged Voldemort directly after cutting down the less experienced Death Eaters. As Voldemort struggled to defend against around-the-clock spellfire from all directions properly, Harry took a breather.
Harry watched Ivan Volkov and his band of mercenaries create a ring of death around Voldemort. The Dark Lord fell into his usual style of throwing around Killing Curses, but it was a blessing to a dedicated lethal mercenary group. They were trained beforehand to tighten the noose around Voldemort and were intimately familiar with Voldemort’s tactics. They knew Voldemort leaned heavily on creating the fear of immediate death by throwing around Killing Curses. To combat this, Ivan’s men set up a masterful defensive barrier using transfiguration and conjured stone walls.
It was a combination of systematic defence and a barrage of exploding hexes that tore through Voldemort’s barriers and shields. On a dime, the battlefield was turned into a consistent hammering that Voldemort struggled to face. The Dark Lord was accustomed to people fleeing in fear when he used the Killing Curse and, therefore, scrambled to react to this turn of events adequately.
As Voldemort busied himself battling multiple hit wizards and mercenaries, Harry managed to track down Tonks and the other Aurors blown away by Voldemort’s initial attack.
“Tonks!” Harry rushed to her side, seeing her left leg bent at an odd angle while lying prone on the ground.
“I’m alright. It’s just that bastard clipped me with a blasting hex.”
“Your leg is broken. You need to get that fixed.” Harry said in a rush while using some detection charms to ensure Tonks was not suffering from any serious injury.
He was about to try his best to snap the bones back in place, but Tonks stopped him.
“No. It’ll be useless. I think I got two broken ribs as well and a concussion. Don’t waste your magic on me.” Tonks managed to mutter while holding her side with a wince.
“Then I will take you straight to St. Mungos.” Harry said, reaching out to take Tonks into his arms.
“No.” Tonks shook her head and pushed his arms away, “Stop worrying about me. I have survived far worse.”
“I wasn’t asking for permission, cousin.” Harry said before consuming Tonks in his spectral form before flying away from the area.
Once he was outside the wards, Harry set Tonks down and was about to call Dobby when Fakes appeared above him in a puff of flame. Before Harry could get a word out, Fawkes swooped down and disappeared with Tonks in a flash of flames.
“Huh!” Harry stared confusedly for a moment before regaining his composure.
With Tonks hopefully safe, he unholstered a Glock he had secured to his belt prior to his arrival in the village. He made sure the magazine was properly set and took the safety off. He had a nasty surprise set for Voldemort with the Glock. He cast the disillusion charm on the Glock before he turned his sight to the battlefield.
Gathering his magic, he twisted and turned the magical energy at the tip of his wand. He shaped it into a lance of pure destructive force.
Harry jabbed his wand, sending a wave of pure destruction.
“Haaaaa!”
With a thunderous crack and flash of light, the barrier surrounding a portion of the village shattered. With it, any sense of control the Death Eaters enjoyed crumbled before their eyes.
Harry assumed his spirit form and rushed towards Voldemort. As he flew back, he saw the carnage in Godric Hollow. Despite the Aurors’ timely arrival, the Death Eaters wreaked havoc on the village. When he finally reached the battlefield, he found Voldemort had discarded the tactics of throwing around the Killing curse left and right. Instead, the Dark Lord had summoned the hellish flames of Fiendfyre spell.
Harry fell right in front of Ivan and his men before the cursed fire could consume them. With a mighty wave of his wand, he sent out a telekinetic blast that pushed the cursed flames back a few feet. With a twist of his wand arm, he opened a tear in space which sucked in the cursed flames for good and left Voldemort gasping with nothing in between.
Harry’s eyes locked with the Dark Lord’s red ones blazing with anger and hate. Voldemort swung his wand, and a blood-red orb cackling with magical energy flew straight for him. Harry formed a dense layer of repelling force at the tip of his wand and, with expertise, deflected the spell to the side.
With a roar that’d put a full-grown dragon to shame, blood-red flames burst out of the ground upon impact. The intense heat from the spell was such that Harry was forced to put up a shield to repel the hot air. Harry retaliated with a chain spell of banishers and exploding hexes, forcing Voldemort to defend or evade. Harry kept up the pressure of a constant barrage of spellfire mixing in transfigured animals to hound the Dark Lord.
He conjured a dog to snake in and attack Voldemort while peppering the lunatic’s shield with a barrage of spells.
Just as the dog managed to get close to Voldemort, he stopped the barrage of spells, allowing Voldemort to act against his conjured animal. Harry seized the moment when Voldemort dismissed the shield to banish the conjured dog. The Glock in his left hand fired a bullet, and his aim was true despite the distance.
Voldemort reeled back with wide eyes as the bullet punched straight through his chest.
Harry didn’t pause and fired two more bullets in quick succession, which tore through the chest of his most hated enemy. The fourth one he aimed at Voldemort’s head, but he missed that one. The fifth bullet was repelled as Voldemort wizened himself to raise a shield.
Seeing the shield protecting the Dark Lord, Harry threw away his Glock and gathered magic in the palm of his hand.
“You are a coward, Potter. Using muggle weapons against a wizard shows the depth of your weakness.”
“This coming from the whiny bitch who set out to kill babies in fear.” Harry shouted back with a scoff.
“You….” Voldemort started to snarl but sputtered when a burning sensation overcame his body.
“I can’t hear you. Cat got your tongue?” Harry asked with a cruel smirk as he realised his plan worked splendidly.
Sure, he was confident he could take down Voldemort with his magical power alone, but why would he take the risk? So, he came prepared to tip the scales in his favour.
“If you haven’t realised it yet, those bullets were laced with Cyanide.” Harry crowed, taking great pleasure in his foe's wide, fearful eyes.
But that fear was smothered over by a confident smirk.
“I’m Lord Voldemort. I have defeated death long before you, silly child.” Voldemort laughed mockingly.
“Oh, you mean those little Horcruxes of yours. Twisted things, I must say.” Harry nodded with a smirk, seeing the dawning horror on Voldemort’s noseless face, “I’m afraid they’re all destroyed.”
“What!?” Voldemort shouted in fear.
“Oh, dear! It seems you have trouble hearing in this old age as well.” Harry said with faux concern.
Voldemort stumbled on his feet as he tried to exert his magical power to heal the wounds and purge the poison from his blood. But a dark tar-like substance leaked out of the wounds on his chest, which sizzled on contact with the ground.
Harry pointed his wand at the ground and sent out a pulse of magic. Two earthen hands rose out of the ground near Voldemort’s feet and caught the Dark Lord’s legs in a vice grip. Before Voldemort could do anything, the earthen hands crushed Voldemort’s legs. The twin snaps of bones could be heard across the now-silent battlefield.
“Ahhhhh!” Voldemort screamed to the heavens as his legs were crushed between transfigured rocks.
Voldemort’s eyes blazed with fury and pain as he raised his wand in Harry’s direction.
“Avada Kedavra!”
Harry was not taken by surprise as he was expecting something similar from a cornered animal like Voldemort.
“Confringo.” Harry retaliated.
The two spells collided right in between them with a bang. A strong explosion blew the ground apart, but after that, Voldemort’s spell was eviscerated. Harry's blasting hex struck Voldemort’s wand, shattering it into a thousand pieces.
The power behind Harry’s spell was such that Voldemort also lost two fingers from his wand arm. Black blood started to pour out of the mangled limb of the Dark Lord. He expected more raging from the Dark Lord, but none of that manifested, and the reason became pretty clear.
Voldemort was no longer capable of articulating his rage as Harry found the Dark Lord’s body convulsing violently. Potassium Cyanide quickly made its ‘magic’ work on his enemy, and Harry was treated to the wonderous sight of a kneeling, helpless Dark Lord.
Suddenly, Fawkes appeared in a flash of flame above his head, carrying the Sword of Gryffindor safely held in his golden talons. Fawkes released a soft trill before dropping the sword into Harry’s hand.
Harry used his magic to catch the sword and safely direct its handle into his hand. He was not idiotic enough to try his luck at catching the sword and getting nicked by the venom-coated blade. Soon after, Fawkes landed on his left shoulder.
“Strange. I was just thinking about conjuring a sword to behead this idiot. How did you know?” Harry asked, looking curiously into the golden eyes of Fawkes.
Fawkes sang a musical note and rubbed his soft head against Harry’s cheek.
“Oh, all right! Keep your secrets.” Harry grumbled before turning his attention to the prone form of the Dark Lord.
The man was going into shock and possibly already unconscious, considering the Dark lord’s eyes were closing.
“Well… I did offer you peace. Now, I offer you steel.”
Harry swung the Sword of Gryffindor with practised ease, and the rest was history.
*****
The hall was a cacophony of cheers and applause, yet Harry Potter felt strangely detached from all of it. He stood just beyond the grand double doors of the Ministry’s Atrium, his reflection in the polished brass candelabrums showing the reflection of his bright green eyes. He was no longer under the yoke of the prophecy, and the spectre of death hanging over his head was no longer there to haunt him. Despite putting up a brave face, he was always prepared to face the threat of Voldemort at any given time. But now, that was in the past.
The death of Voldemort had cooled things down in wizarding Britain. The few Death Eaters that remained loyal to the Dark Lord were captured and waiting for trial. The dark creatures aligned with Voldemort withdrew from the scene into the shadows. The Dementors were decimated, and the few that remained were getting hunted by the Ministry.
Overall, it was a peaceful week where Harry was only required to enjoy the summer holidays.
“Harry?” Daphne Greengrass’s voice was soft yet commanding, cutting through the clamour beyond the doors.
She stepped closer, her emerald-green dress flowing around her like liquid silk. The flickering candlelight reflected in her pale blonde hair, giving her an almost ethereal glow. She looked at him, her gaze steady but filled with concern.
“They’re waiting for you.”
Harry turned to her, his lips curling into a joyful smile. He stood up from his seat and placed his hands on her waist.
“Are they?” Harry asked with a slight jitter.
Daphne’s expression softened. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his. The touch was light, tentative, but it sent a warmth coursing through him that had nothing to do with the enchanted candles overhead.
“You deserve this.” she said firmly. “You’ve given so much, Harry. It’s okay to let them honour you for it.”
“Hmm… I just feel somewhat underwhelmed, that’s all.” Harry murmured.
“Why? This is not the first time you’ve been honoured with an Order of Merlin.” Daphne looked curiously at him with her shining blue eyes.
He shook his head slightly, his brow furrowing.
“I don’t know, really. For a long time, killing Voldemort was the goal. But now that I have done it, I suppose I’m somewhat lost. It’s not something I expected to feel. I thought I’d be more excited or happy. Instead, I just feel… hollow.” Harry dropped his shoulders.
Daphne stepped closer, her other hand coming to rest on his arm.
“You’ll honour everyone who survived and died in the two wars by accepting this, Harry. You’re honouring what they fought for – what they believed in.” Daphne said earnestly while looking deep into his eyes.
He smiled at Daphne and nodded as some tension bled out from him.
“You look very beautiful today.” Harry murmured, toying with a loose strand of Daphne’s hair between his fingers.
“Of course I am. Someone has to look the part of a dignified aristocrat.” Daphne said with a faux pompous look.
“Are you saying I can’t pull that off? Need I remind you; you’re talking to an anointed King of Scotland.” Harry said with his chin raised.
Daphne laughed softly, a melodic sound that lightened the air around them.
“I humbly ask for your mercy, your grace. I shouldn’t have doubted your nobility.” Daphne gave him a mock bow, making him let out a soft chuckle.
Harry reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Daphne’s ear. His fingers lingered, tracing the delicate curve of her jaw. Their lips met in a tender kiss for a brief time before pulling back to gaze into each other’s eyes. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The world beyond the doors faded into insignificance as they stood there, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of their shared understanding.
“What’re you two doing out there? Everyone is waiting?” Sirius hissed from the doorway.
Harry exchanged a grin with Daphne as they snapped out of their private, intimate moment.
“A moment please.” Harry told Sirius before returning his attention to the woman in his arms.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “For being here. For… being you.”
Daphne’s breath hitched, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink. She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before opening again to meet his gaze.
“Always,” she replied simply.
“I suppose we have that little puzzle to look forward to and our marriage.” Harry whispered.
“Really, Harry? Our marriage is only the second exciting thing?” Daphne asked with an arched eyebrow.
“What is marriage but a few nonsensical words and a party of food and wine? For all intents and purposes, we’re already married.” Harry tried to save face and escape the icy wrath of his girlfriend.
“You keep on dreaming and no funny business until we exchange vows.”
“Oh, come on! Don’t I get a reward for ridding us of the most dangerous Dark Lord?” Harry whined petulantly.
“No rewards until we are married. After that…” Daphne gave him a sultry wink, making Harry grin like a loon.
The sound of a throat clearing behind them shattered the spell. They turned to see Susan Bones, dazzling in blue robes, standing a respectful distance away.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, her delicate voice laced with amusement. “But the ceremony is about to begin.”
Harry and Daphne nodded, following their friend into the atrium, hand in hand for the ceremony. Together, they stepped through the doors, the roar of applause crashing over them like a wave. The telltale sound of the camera and flashes of light fell on them as they joined Minister Bones, Rufus Scrimgeour, Damien, Sirius and other Ministry officials on the stage. Minister Bones said something, addressing the crowd, but Harry didn’t keep track of what was said once his eyes fell on a familiar couple sitting inconspicuously in the crowd.
‘Perenelle.’ Harry thought with a frown.
He was once again reminded of his obligations to the Flamels. After all, they held their end of the deal by providing him the tools and manpower to destroy Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Even now, the mercenaries hired by the Flamels secretly dismantled Voldemort's entrenched sympathisers and his hardline policies. He suspected that was more for the agenda of Flamels, but he was nonetheless bound to profit from the decimation of such political opponents.
Minister Bones finished addressing the crowd before she called on Harry. He realised he had to say a few words, unlike the last time. There were more people in the atrium now that the war was over, and he happened to know there was international press covering the event.
“Brothers and sisters –” Harry started, his words reaching the far end of the atrium under the magnifying effect of the sonorous charm “– we are brothers and sisters born to mother magic blessed with her power. But like all power, some will use it for dark deeds. Our world was under the grip of one such dark man, ruled by greed and cruelty. Tom Riddle sought to subjugate us all, and many were his fell plans, no doubt. Many brave souls have valiantly fought against this dark spectre for decades with utmost dedication and self-sacrifice.”
“But for every dusk, there is a dawn. And this is the dawn, ladies and gentlemen. Through our relentless pursuit of freedom and perseverance, we have overcome the darkness that sought to shackle us. We have all struck the killing blow to the Dark Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The Ministry, the Aurors, hit-wizards and even friends from beyond the shores of our home have enabled this victory. May the bonds of Magical Brethren remain strong evermore.”
Harry stepped back, and applause filled the atrium.
As Harry ascended the stage to receive the Order of Merlin from Minister Bones, he carried with him the quiet strength of his fiancé by his side. And for the first time in a long time, he felt like there was no weight on his shoulders.
‘I won.’ Harry thought as he grinned at the cameras with Daphne by his side.