There was grass beneath my fingers. I could smell dirt as though it was in my nose.

Oh god, I just breathed in some dirt.

Eww.

I sat up. I was in the clearing, but the clearing was deserted.

“I’m not dead?” I asked the air. No one replied. “I’M NOT DEAD!” I cried happily. “I LOVE IT WHEN I DO THAT!”

I feel...different.

I smiled at my muddy, bloody clothes. If this was heaven, or whatever, I’d be wearing clean clothes and stuff. Right? I wouldn’t have chosen this god forsaken clearing as my heaven anyway.

Actually, I’ve been successfully miserable everywhere, so I don’t actually know where my heaven would be...Maybe the kitchens.

I remembered the stone, and I opened up my hand, but all that remained was dust.

There probably should be some sentimental stuff to go with the dead stone, but I couldn’t fathom a single bother, so I decided to put the dust on my face like war paint.

I should have done this pre-battle.

I am also not sure why dust turned into paint but I am pretty sure anything can happen because I’m fab.

Look at me. I flicked my hair around. I’m fab.

There was a high-pitched ringing and then I heard Voldemort’s magnified voice.

“Harry Potter is dead.”

What?

No.

What?

No. I died.

He’s meant to be back.

I died. I died.

Harry is meant to live.

“He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone.”

No but Harry is meant to live.

“The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters.”

No.

I stopped this.

We were meant to win.

“My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anybody who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together.”

No.

Fred.

Hermione.

ALL OF THEM ARE DEAD I WAS MEANT TO FIX IT.

I DID IT WRONG

NO!

NO.

No.

I couldn’t even cry.

Was this hell? Or was this reality?

I stood quietly and began to walk to the castle myself.

I had to know.

Halfway out of the forest I remembered I could apparated, so I did that instead. I hid behind this giant piece of wall.

I heard McGonagall’s shout.

Ron’s, Ginny’s...

No. I didn’t hear Hermione’s voice.

I gulped. I didn’t want to blow my own cover though.

Apparently I knew a spell that could turn the wall into a one-way mirror thing, so I did that.

I saw Harry, motionless in Hagrid’s arms.

George was clutching onto Fred’s body – it was as though he’d dragged his corpse outside to see the events with him.

I failed.

I failed them all.

Everyone was shouting, screaming, yelling abuse at the Death eaters.

“SILENCE!” cried Voldemort, and there was a bang and a flash of bright light, and silence was forced upon them all. “It’s over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!”

My brother was lowered onto the grass.

“You see?” said Voldemort, striding forward right beside the place where he lay. “Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!”

“He beat you!” yelled Ron, and the charm broke, and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again until a second, more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.

“He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds,” said Voldemort, and there was relish in his voice for the lie, “killed while trying to save himself—”

Neville broke free of the crowd and charged at Voldemort. There was a shout. A bang. A flash of light. Neville grunted. Voldemort had Neville’s wand and threw it aside.

“And who is this?” he said in his soft snake’s hiss. “Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?”

Bellatrix gave a delighted laugh.

“It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?”

“Ah, yes, I remember,” said Voldemort, looking down at Neville, who was struggling back to his feet, unarmed and unprotected, standing in the no-man’s-land between the survivors and the Death Eaters. “But you are a pureblood, aren’t you, my brave boy?” Voldemort asked Neville, who stood facing him, his empty hands curled into fists.

“So what if I am?” said Neville loudly.

“You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom.”

 “I’ll join you when hell freezes over,” said Neville. “Dumbledore’s Army!” he shouted, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd, whom Voldemort’s Silencing Charms seemed unable to hold.

In that moment I understood.

Harry sacrificed himself for everyone, much like our mother did for him.

Voldemort’s spell hadn’t worked on Harry then – and now, it wasn’t working on all these people.

I wanted to scream.

Harry you clever little shit.

I wished I could have told him.

“Very well,” said Voldemort. “If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head,” he said quietly, “be it.”

Voldemort summoned the sorting hat.

“There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School,” said Voldemort. “There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won’t they, Neville Longbottom?”

He pointed his wand at Neville, who grew rigid and still, then forced the hat onto Neville’s head, so that it slipped down below his eyes. There were movements from the watching crowd in front of the castle, and as one, the Death Eaters raised their wands, holding the fighters of Hogwarts at bay.

“Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me,” said Voldemort, and with a flick of his wand, he caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames.

Screams split the dawn, and Neville was aflame, rooted to the spot, unable to move.

I wanted to puke but I couldn’t move.

Not yet.

I failed once, and I had to do better a second time.

And then, without any warning, many things happened at the same moment.

There was an uproar from the distant boundary of the school as what sounded like hundreds of people came swarming over the out-of-sight walls and pelted toward the castle, uttering loud war cries.

At the same time, Grawp came lumbering around the side of the castle and yelled, “HAGGER!” His cry was answered by roars from Voldemort’s giants: They ran at Grawp like bull elephants, making the earth quake. Then came hooves and the twangs of bows, and arrows were suddenly falling amongst the Death Eaters, who broke ranks, shouting their surprise.

I was staring at Harry – but I blinked and he was gone.

What?

No.

The invisibility cloak.

No fucking way.

Did it fucking work?

Neville broke free of the Body-Bind Curse upon; the flaming hat fell off him and he drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle—The slash of the silver blade could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming crowd or the sounds of the clashing giants or of the stampeding centaurs, and yet it seemed to draw every eye. With a single stroke Neville sliced off the great snake’s head, which spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the entrance hall, and Voldemort’s mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake’s body thudded to the ground at his feet—

“HARRY!” Hagrid shouted. “HARRY—WHERE’S HARRY?”

Chaos reigned. The charging centaurs were scattering the Death Eaters, everyone was fleeing the giants’ stamping feet, and nearer and nearer thundered the reinforcements that had come from who knew where; Great winged creatures soaring around the heads of Voldemort’s giants, thestrals and Buckbeak the hippogriff scratching at their eyes while Grawp punched and pummeled them, and now the wizards, defenders of Hogwarts and Death Eaters alike, were being forced back into the castle.

Ugh, I’m not good with battles.

Too much shit is happening right now.

I casually walked back to the hall, considering everyone was psycho.

No curses hit me, which was a nice relief.

I saw Charlie Weasley overtaking Horace Slughorn, who was still wearing his emerald pajamas. They seemed to have returned at the head of what looked like the families and friends of every Hogwarts student who had remained to fight, along with the shopkeepers and homeowners of Hogsmeade. The centaurs Ban, Ronan, and Magorian burst into the hall with a great clatter of hooves, as behind me the door that led to the kitchens was blasted off its hinges.

The house-elves of Hogwarts swarmed into the entrance hall, screaming and waving carving knives and cleavers, and at their head, the locket of Regulus Black bouncing on his chest, was Kreacher, his bullfrog’s voice audible even above this din: “Fight! Fight! Fight for my Master, defender of the house-elves! Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!”

They were hacking and stabbing at the ankles and shins of Death Eaters, their tiny faces alive with malice, and everywhere I looked Death Eaters were folding under sheer weight of numbers, overcome by spells, dragging arrows from wounds, stabbed in the leg by elves, or else simply attempting to escape, but swallowed by the oncoming horde.

Voldemort was in the center of the battle, and he was striking and smiting all within reach.

Ugh, there is so much going on. Wtf.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were running through the crowd, not even attempting to fight, screaming for their son. Aww, they’ve changed, that’s nice of them.

IT’S NEVER TOO EARLY OR TOO LATE.

Voldemort was now duelling McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley all at once, and there was cold hatred in his face as they wove and ducked around him, unable to finish him—

Bellatrix was still fighting too, fifty yards away from Voldemort, and like her master she duelled three at once: Hermione, Ginny, and Luna, (THEY’RE FUCKING ALIVE!!!) all battling their hardest, but Bellatrix was equal to them,

My attention was diverted as a Killing Curse shot so close to Ginny that she missed death by an inch—

“NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!” Mrs. Weasley threw off her cloak as she ran, freeing her arms.

Bellatrix spun on the spot, roaring with laughter at the sight of her new challenger.

“OUT OF MY WAY!” shouted Mrs. Weasley to the three girls, and with a swipe of her wand she began to duel.

Jets of light flew from both wands, the floor around the witches’ feet became hot and cracked; both women were fighting to kill.

“No!” Mrs. Weasley cried as a few students ran forward, trying to come to her aid. “Get back! Get back! She is mine!”

And then I remembered.

Lucy.

I bolted over, and no one noticed me – seriously, I could be a ghost have no clue right now.

STUPIFY! I thought, and Bellatrix collapsed.

Mrs. Weasley charged forward, but I stopped her – apparently I’m not a ghost.

“She’s pregnant with my friend.” I said truthfully.

“What?”

“Help me.”

I grabbed Bellatrix’s feet, and Mrs. Weasley grabbed her arms and we lobbed her into one of the thought boxes.

“Your friend?”

“It’s complicated.” I shrugged, and we rejoined the battle.

I literally had no idea what was happening anymore.

I am so fucking confused that it isn’t funny.

“Protego!” roared Harry, and the Shield Charm expanded in the middle of the Hall, and Voldemort stared around for the source as Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak at last.

The yell of shock, the cheers, the screams on every side of: “Harry!” “HE’S ALIVE!” were stifled at once. The crowd was afraid, and silence fell abruptly and completely as Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other.

“I don’t want anyone else to try to help.” Harry said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. “It’s got to be like this. It’s got to be me.”

Voldemort hissed.

“Potter doesn’t mean that,” he said, his red eyes wide. “That isn’t how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?”

“Nobody,” said Harry simply. “There are no more Horcruxes. It’s just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good....”

“One of us?” jeered Voldemort, and his whole body was taunt and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. “You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?”

“Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?” asked Harry. They were still moving sideways, both of them, in that perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other, and for Harry no face existed but Voldemort’s. “Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn’t defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?”

“Accidents!” screamed Voldemort.

I didn’t step forward, I fucking flew.

“I said-“ Harry started.

“Shut up, it’s me. And dude, Harry, I saved your arse tonight.” I said, suddenly feeling everyone looking at me too. I was like floating and shit though. “I told you I was going to fly Voldy, didn’t I?” I smiled. “Ahh, I remember hanging off your neck during that flight over Surrey!” I wiped off a fake tear. “Good times.”

“What’s on your face?” Voldemort asked casually.

“This?” I gestured to my war paint. “That’s the resurrection stone. I was made from it, I died from it, I brought everyone back from it and then I lived from it, I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“Wait, so you brought me back tonight?” Harry asked, his eyes were still on Voldemort.

He was so not shocked by my flying.

I’m offended.

“Duh. I brought back some of you guys too.” I could now see everyone. I pointed at Ruby’s group. “You homies, Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Hermione, Luna, some others, I can’t remember. – I don’t know if you actually remember that you died – like there’s some shit about memories being messed up. I hope you remember that you were dead, because then I look like I know what I’m doing.”

“So, Potter. You did let someone die for you –“

“Shut up Voldemort, it’s a family trait.”

“You let me kill another one of your soldiers.”

 “You won’t be killing anyone else tonight,” said Harry as they circled, and stared into each other’s eyes, green into red. “You won’t be able to kill any of them ever again. Don’t you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people—”

“But you did not!”

“—I meant to, and that’s what it did. I’ve done what my mother did. They’re protected from you. Haven’t you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can’t torture them. You can’t touch them. You don’t learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?”

“You dare—”

“Yes, I dare,” said Harry. “I know things you don’t know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don’t. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?”

Voldemort did not speak, but prowled in a circle, and I knew that Harry kept him temporarily mesmerized and at bay, held back by the faintest possibility that Harry might indeed know a final secret....

“Is it love again?” said Voldemort, his snake’s face jeering. “Dumbledore’s favourite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter—and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you from dying now when I strike?”

“Just one thing,” said Harry, and still they circled each other, wrapped in each other, held apart by nothing but the last secret.

“If it is not love that will save you this time,” said Voldemort, “you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?”

“I believe both,” said Harry, and he saw shock flit across the snakelike face, though it was instantly dispelled; Voldemort began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening than his screams; humorless and insane, it echoed around the silent Hall.

“You think you know more magic than I do?” he said. “Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?”

“Oh, he dreamed of it,” said Harry, “but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you’ve done.”

“You mean he was weak!” screamed Voldemort. “Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!”

“No, he was cleverer than you,” said Harry, “a better wizard, a better man.”

“I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!”

“You thought you did,” said Harry, “but you were wrong.”

For the first time, the watching crowd stirred as the hundreds of people around the walls drew breath as one.

“Dumbledore is dead!” Voldemort hurled the words at Harry as though they would cause him unendurable pain. “His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle. I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!”

“Yes, Dumbledore’s dead,” said Harry calmly,

“Oh, actually –“ I added. “Sorry to interject here. Um, he may or may not be alive. Like I don’t know.” I apparated to the grave and back again. “Haha, He’s alive, this is great.” I laughed a little. Well, it was  true. Voldemort looked terrified. “The perks of being a blob.” I laughed at my own joke, but no one else did.

“Will, I had a whole thing going.” Harry sighed.

“Just trying to diffuse the tension.”

Harry coughed and tried again.

“Yes, Dumbledore died, but you didn’t have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant.”

“What childish dream is this?” said Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and his red eyes did not waver from Harry’s.

“Severus Snape wasn’t yours,” said Harry. “Snape was Dumbledore’s. Dumbledore’s from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can’t understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?”

Voldemort did not answer. They continued to circle each other, like wolves about to tear each other apart.

“Snape’s Patronus was a doe,” said Harry, “the same as my mother’s, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized,” he said as he saw Voldemort’s nostrils flare, “he asked you to spare her life, didn’t he?”

“He desired her, that was all,” sneered Voldemort, “but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him—”

“Of course he told you that,” said Harry, “but he was Dumbledore’s spy from the moment you threatened her, and he’s been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!”

“It matters not!” shrieked Voldemort, who had followed every word with rapt attention, but now let out a cackle of mad laughter. “It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore’s, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape’s supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!”

“Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy—I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up, I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore’s last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!”

“Sorry, side note!” I called out from above. “Yo, Snape should be alive too. Not so crushed now Nomie.”

“Nomie?”

“It’s like ‘homie’ but ‘no’.”

“Cool.”

“It’s gonna catch on I can feel it.”

“Yeah, it did,” said Harry, ignoring me. Rude. “You’re right. But before you try to kill me, I’d advise you to think about what you’ve done.... Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle....”

“What is this?”

Of all the things that Harry had said to him, beyond any revelation or taunt, nothing had shocked Voldemort like this. I saw his pupils contact to thin slits, saw the skin around his eyes whiten.

“It’s your one last chance,” said Harry, “it’s all you’ve got left.... I’ve seen what you’ll be otherwise.... Be a man ... try ... Try for some remorse....”

“You dare—?” said Voldemort again.

“Yes, I dare,” said Harry, “because Dumbledore’s last plan hasn’t backfired on me at all. It’s backfired on you, Riddle.”

Voldemort’s hand was trembling on the Elder Wand, and Harry gripped Draco’s very tightly. The moment was seconds away.

“That wand still isn’t working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore.”

“He killed—”

“Aren’t you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore’s death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand’s last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand’s power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!”

“But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!”

Voldemort’s voice shook with malicious pleasure. “I stole the wand from its last master’s tomb! I removed it against its last master’s wishes! It’s power is mine!”

“You still don’t get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn’t enough! Holding it, using it, doesn’t make it really yours. Didn’t you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard.... The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world’s most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance....”

Voldemort’s chest rose and fell rapidly.

“The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy.”

Blank shock showed in Voldemort’s face for a moment, but then it was gone.

“But what does it matter?” he said softly. “Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone ... and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy....”

“But you’re too late,” said Harry. “You’ve missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him.”

Harry twitched the hawthorn wand, and he felt the eyes of everyone in the Hall upon it.

“So it all comes down to this, doesn’t it?” whispered Harry. “Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does ... I am the true master of the Elder Wand.”

“You’re leaving this up to chance dude, not cool. I died for you like fifty times these last seven years I’m not doing that shit again. I’m done. Like a fucking roast.”

A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above us as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort’s was suddenly a flaming blur.

“Avada Kedavra!”

“Expelliarmus!”

The bang was like a cannon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. I saw Voldemort’s green jet meet Harry’s spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of a Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing.

Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hands, staring down at his enemy’s shell.

Silence ensued.

“Woo,” I said feebly, letting myself drop from the air.  “Oh no, hugs.” I zoomed back into the air again because I didn’t feel like hugging. I felt like watching.

Watching all my people being happy.

Hey, what do you know?

Perhaps this is my heaven.

___

Woo omg.

most of this is like the last hp chapter, but with willow saying shit.

like idk man.

um

I hope it was happier?

oh yeah, there's like 8 things to say.

1. This is pretty much the basis ending for my other alternate endings if that makes sense. yeah.

2. I think there was some confusion with the 'trip in time' thing -my fault, sorry. Like, it may go ahead, but not any time soon. Also IF AND ONLY IF it does go ahead, it will be a more informal type setup. Like, I'll take your imput and write it into a chapter, I'll do challeng-y things and then people can write a chapter, like that kind of thing. IF. PLEASE DONT PUT PRESSURE ON ME IM 17 AND NOT ABLE TO COPE LIKE IM NOT WILLOW IM LUCY FOX AND I GET STRESSED EASILY

3. that was real smooth lucy. 

4. i started crying today because i didn't know what to have for dinner.

5. apart from these few ending things, nothing will be uploaded til like mid-november. because my HSC things. if you don't know what HSC is and you care lots, it's called google. if you don't care lots it stands for HIGHLY STRESSFUL CRAPOLA which means big 3 hour tests of horror that determine my life. 

6. I will get to replying to all your messages. like i've been crying because I'm hormonal (im way too comfortable on this site) and you're all so lovely and fnjerngjkr but yeah, i'm busy as someone busy and i am try.

7. sorry for typos in this chapter, but i don't care right now. :P I'll come along in a few weeks and fix it all up. like that's what I did for the first two books, I was editing them and stuff. So, if you've read the first one in like this past year, it's all g, but if you read it when it first came out I added shit like a counsellor BECAUSE WHAT SCHOOL HAS A KID WHO HAS ATTEMPTED SUICIDE AND DOESN'T TRY TO FIND OUT WHY?!?!?! there are flaws in my writing, but i don't care.

8. oh, the next ending isn't happy yo. :P nor is the one after that. but then there's a happy one. and there's another that will make you slap me. and yeah! <3 love!