Mors Aeternus

Part Two: Requiem

The horseless carriages trundled gently down the packed dirt road skirting the edges of Hogsmeade. The Gryffindor emergency shelter was located just beyond the wizarding town and was about to be used for the first time since Grindelwald's era.

The dark curtains on the carriage were drawn, and the only light came from the end of Headmistress McGonagall's wand. She had chosen to accompany the Gryffindors in this mass exodus because of the other passengers in the vehicle.

Ron and Hermione huddled together on one side, holding hands for reassurance. As Ron glanced up to check on their other passenger for what seemed to be the millionth time, McGonagall noticed that he was pale with concern. His freckles stood out in stark relief against his white skin.

The object of his scrutiny seemed oblivious to everything other than the hands he had folded in his lap. Harry hadn't spoken a single word McGonagall had heard since the announcement about the evacuation, and all he had said after that was, "I need to get my wand."

If it weren't for the enormous strain that Voldemort's impending attack had put on her, the Headmistress would have been worried about Harry. As it was, McGonagall only had time to send up silent thanks that the boy hadn't stayed behind at Hogwarts to face Voldemort himself. He could sometimes be foolish that way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Echoes of footsteps were the only sounds resounding through the abandoned Hogwarts' hallways. Harry was getting close to the Great Hall, the location of his impending final appointment with the Dark Lord.

When the doors to the hall were in sight, Harry slowed. He wanted to stop and give himself time to catch his breath and calm his heart. However, if he did stop, Harry wasn't sure if he could get his feet moving again. So he stalked the rest of the distance to the Great Hall.

The massive entrance doors had been magicked long ago to open when the least little pressure was put on it. It was for that reason only that the slim fifteen-year-old could enter the room. The sight that met him shocked Harry.

Over the course of the year, Harry had developed several possible scenarios in his mind of what his last confrontation would be like. The one that he believed most likely was arriving at breakfast one morning to find everyone murdered by the army of Death Eaters that Voldemort would have brought with him. The last thing Harry would have expected to see upon entering was Voldemort and Wormtail waiting for him alone in the massive and very empty room.

Regaining his voice, Harry spoke as steadily as he could manage. "Where are the others?"

Voldemort laughed, a cold, bone-chilling sound. "They are...elsewhere. I did not wish for them to interfere with our duel."

"If you didn't want interference, why did you bring Wormtail with you?" As he spoke, Harry slowly pulled his wand out of his robes and hid it and the hand he was holding it with in the folds at his side. He wanted to be ready if either wizard decided to try a surprise attack.

"It is customary to have a second, is it not?" Voldemort gave his subordinate a hard look. "He will not interfere in the proceedings."

As the Dark Lord turned towards Harry, the boy knew the time had come. Making a small, barely noticeable flourish with his wand, he whispered, "Vox simulacrus."

Wormtail moved to one side, ostensibly to officiate to the duel, before firmly stating, "Begin."

Voldemort and Harry saluted their wands before moving into their preferred dueling stance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The drone of the carriage wheels was enough to put almost anyone into a trance. For this reason, it came as a shock when Harry's voice broke the near silence in the carriage, startling the other passengers and actually causing Hermione to jump slightly.

"I've been thinking about what I wanted to tell you for a while now, for when this time came. However, I couldn't come up with anything particularly good. So, I programmed this simulacrum to tell you only that I had to do this. I'm sorry." Harry drew in a deep, calming breath, never once raising his eyes from his folded hands. "Goodbye."

The simulacra collapsed onto the carriage floor, all semblance of life having gone out of it. Its purpose now fulfilled, the simulacra slowly faded away into nothing. Ron, Hermione, and McGonagall all stared for a moment, not fully aware of what had just occurred. As soon as it began to sink in, McGonagall leapt into action, ordering the carriage to turn back to Hogwarts and speed up. Ron and Hermione merely clung to each other, helpless to do anything until they got back to the old castle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time seemed to slow for Harry as his final moments unfolded. In some distant corner of the young wizard's mind, he could hear the simulacra delivering its message.

Before him, he could see Voldemort draw back his wand in preparation for casting a spell. Harry noted with a trace of amusement that his opponent's lips were forming the word Expelliarmus. Both of them had learned from previous experience that a fight was impossible as long as both had their wands.

A powerful sense of calm washed through Harry, making it easy for him to point his wand at the ceiling. Just as he felt the simulacrum say goodbye, Harry spoke.

"Mors aeternus."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word traveled quickly enough in the wizarding world under normal circumstances. In this instance, the news flew faster than an owl's wings could carry it.

By the end of the day, wizards the world over had heard the story. How McGonagall and two of her students had raced to Hogwarts to discover the tableaux in the Great Hall. How Voldemort was found, most definitely dead, along with the corpse of the man identified as Peter Pettigrew. How the body of Harry Potter had been found, a serene look on his cold, still face.

Investigation into the incident showed that Harry had used a long forgotten yet very powerful curse on the Dark Lord and saved the world. However, the name of the curse was never released, and the book it was found in was burned. It was simply too dangerous to let out.

Voldemort had arranged things from the very beginning so that if he truly fell, he wouldn't be alone. His Death Eaters, who had been attacking the wizarding villages all across the British Isles, all lost consciousness at the same time, the skull mark on their arms burning brightly. It wasn't long before all of them had been gathered, tried, and imprisoned in Azkaban.

Free from the reign of terror, wizard and witches the world over began to celebrate. The sky was thick with owls and shooting stars, lending a surreal air to Harry Potter's funeral. A small knot of misery in the sea of joy could be found beside James and Lily's graves, where a coffin was being lowered into an open pit.

Not many attended the services, just those who felt personally indebted to Harry. Hermione leaned on Ron for support, crying into shoulder. The entire Weasley family was there, mourning the lost of their almost son. Ginny stood slightly apart, her grief silent and deep. Amos Diggory was also there to pay his respects to the boy who had avenged his son's death.

After that day, life continued. It was nearly the same as before, only now an oppressive cloud of fear was missing, thanks to the Boy Who Died.