Dark

Dark

Dark: that's all that he saw anymore. He loved the dark and the dark loved him, at least it seemed like that. Maybe it was more that people just liked to make it seem that way. But now, there was no one. No Ron, no Hermione, no Fred, George, Remus, Sirius, Ginny, Molly, Arthur, Tonks, anyone. He was alone. It seemed like at the peak of his happiness, something always went terribly wrong somehow. And in a blink...a beat...a flash...in something, they were all gone, all of them.

He strapped on his crossbow and laced his boots, gripping his wand. One thought came to his mind. This may be my last night on Earth. You would think I would feel...something.

Ripping the bed sheets off his mattress, he made himself a rope. The Dursleys, his "family", were downstairs. The only ones who were alive were people he didn't care about. He tried on many occasions to just have a twinge of feeling for any of them. He knew that if he didn't do this, they would die, too. But, like I said, he didn't care. They were not why he was doing this. He was doing this for everyone else: Hagrid, Dumbledore, Remus. Voldemort had taken everything. Hell he had even taken his owl. She had been the last one to leave him.

He felt an odd twinge of something as he mounted his broom. If I kill Voldemort tonight it'll be over. It would be over, but not for him. Death Eaters not ready to let go of their Lord would be ready to kill him.

As he shot off into the night, into more darkness, he felt an overwhelming feeling of numbness. At least, that's what he thought it was. He'd been without feelings for so long, he forgot what they felt like.

It wasn't hard to find Voldemort; it never was. Just go where you see, and smell, death. And that wasn't hard to do. He felt the icy chill of Dementors loom over him and the screaming started; pictures appeared in his head...Ron...bleeding...dieing...dead.

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry's Patronum had reached new feats of greatness. He had redefined the spell. The Dementor screeched with what he would assume would be pain and seemed to implode into nothing.

"Mr. Potter! Greetings at last." The cold voice he had heard so many times rang out behind him.

"Voldemort."

"Harry!" The Dark Lord's lips curled in a sneer as the words crawled out of his mouth. "Ready to die?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"Always."

The battle raged on for hours. The sun broke out but was unable to pierce the dark; at least not where they were. Dark, thick, clouds ran, sprinting to cover any light except for the hazy glow from the deadly spells. Peter Pettigrew, the Potters' best and most dangerous friend, did not possess, in his fat little body, bravery, strength, or loyalty. Nothing existed but fear, and that is where danger likes to hide.

CRACK!

"I'm sorry. Harry I had to."

"AVADA KADVERA!" Harry saw for one last time that bright green light, and heard the high pitched laughter.

Thud.

"Good bye, Mr. Potter."

The boy who lived, the legend, will live forever. Unfortunately, the boy did not. Harry is discovering new feats of darkness: nothing. No pain, no grief, no happiness. Nothing, but dark.

Fin