Spoiler up through HBP eventually

I've read a lot of stories where Harry gets sent somewhere else after destroying Voldemort. This is kind of a reverse of that idea. I haven't really run across any of these yet. I'm sure there out there, but I haven't found them.

Summary: At the end of her sixth year, Briara Potter, "The Girl Who Lived," defeated Lord Voldemort. In his last moments, Voldemort used the Alius Ego Alius Rudimentum charm, banishing Bri to a far more familiar HP universe until its Voldemort is destroyed by its own chosen one.

I don't own it, I never will, and I'm okay with that.

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No sixteen year old should have the weight of the world on their shoulders. Hell, no one of any age should have to deal with what Briara Potter had been forced into. It was just too much. She didn't regret her fate however, it was a destiny that someone had to fulfill, if it hadn't been her then it would have been forced upon someone else. Bri could never condemn someone else to the nightmare she'd been through, so she took her destiny in stride, aka a butt load of complaints and whining, of course.

Oh yes, there had been plenty of grumbling on Bri's part. Ever since her parents had told her of the prophecy after the remnants of Lord Voldemort had been found inhabiting the back of her Defense Against the Dark Arts skull in first year barely a day went by without a "Why me?" or "Pick someone else, I'm too tired to get out of bed today." She never truly meant it, she knew why it was her, and even if she was too tired to get out of bed she was sure that her Uncle Sirius would help her out by taking her and her bed to the scene of the battle.

She really wouldn't mind having her bed with her right now. The grass lining the ground of the Quiditch Pitch may look soft, but as curse after curse sent her crashing into it, the grass lost its appeal. Not that being blasted into a mattress would be much better, she'd rather not be blasted into anything, thank you very much, but it would help.

Or how about a large body of water to land in? She thought as she scrambled out of the way of a wayward Body Bind that found its way towards her. Of course, this played into Voldemort's hand as his Crucio had been sent directly where she dodged to. Momentarily, Bri's own screams drowned out all the other sounds of people fighting and dieing all around her. As the pain subsided and Voldemort's cynical laugh filled her ears she finished her earlier thought. No, I'd probably end up drowning. A large body of jell-o, perhaps? She snorted out loud at the image of her beaten body bouncing off of a large bunt shaped orange jell-o that suddenly appeared on the pitch. Voldemort regarded her skeptically as she tried to get her giggling under control. Well, let him think she was crazy, she'd certainly been hexed and cursed enough to drive most people nutters.

Speaking of nuts, where was Sergeant Bushytail? Running to gain some cover behind a goal post, Briara looked down the pitch for her friend. Ah, there he was! Ron Weasley, the most ferocious squirrel animagus you would ever meet, was fighting back to back with Moony against five Death Eaters. They were holding their own, but looked to be wearing down.

Farther on in the pitch Lieutenant Hooters had just used her patronus to banish the dementors that had been closing in on her. Hermione had really protested the Marauder nickname that had been assigned her, but being as her animal was a great horned owl, and, truth be told, she was rather well endowed, she'd had little say in the matter. The dementors out of her way, Hooters moved over to help Moony and Bushytail.

Briara continued scanning the battle for her friends, her fear for what could be happening to her friends outweighing the question as to why Voldemort wasn't attacking her. The twins (both the Weasley and Patil variety) were on the far side of the pitch taking a beating from a giant and two ogres, Hagrid, Grawp, and Padfoot were on their way to the rescue. Her parents were allied with the Giant Squid, Fluffy, Aragog as well as many aurors she recognized and some upperclassmen students guarding the entrances to the castle. Luna, her parents and Neville were along the forest's edge with the centaurs keeping the evil things lurking in the forest from joining the main battle. Neville's grandmother was inside with Madame Pomfrey assisting the injured lucky enough to reach the castle.

Many of her friends had fallen. The unstoppable Avada Kedavra had claimed many victims during the intense battle. Many Death Eaters had fallen as well. All the bodies were strewn across the ground; after all, everyone was equal in death.

She started to panic slightly. Where was Major Malformed? (Or, majorly Malformed, as Bri usually teased him.) His nickname had nothing to do with his animagus animal, but more with the numerous attempted transformations that ended badly, such as a human ear left on a furry face or the whiskers that remained when he reverted to human. It had taken Malformed nearly three months longer than the rest of them to fully master his transformation. He had petitioned for a new name, something that had more to do with a coyote, but Malformed stuck.

Bri still couldn't find him but was not allowed to dwell on her friend any longer when Voldemort apparated directly in front of her, clutching the Sorting Hat. So much for those anti apparation wards so highly acclaimed in Hogwarts; A History, Hermione will be disappointed. She thought, wondering what the blazes the Dark Lord wanted with the musty old hat.

Voldemort reached into the hat and withdrew a silver scythe with emeralds placed in an intricate pattern down the handle. He tossed the hat away from him and regarded the formidable looking weapon. A smirk graced the snake like mans lips.

"A scythe, the symbol of Death. Fitting, don't you think? Just as Thanatos brings death to others, so shall I bring death to you." Bri took a step back and tripped over a rock as Voldemort advanced on her.

It can't end like this. Too many people are counting on me. She reached for her wand, but it had fallen out of her grasp when she tripped. She searched frantically for something to defend herself with. Her grasping fingers came in contact with the fabric of the Sorting Hat. Hoping against hope she reached into the empty hat. If Voldemort could pull something out of it she could too, right? In the hat her hand felt warm metal. Grasping the metal, she pulled out a sword from the hat. Now, if only she knew how to use it.

Just get the pointy end into the ugly bald guy with red eyes. Standing up, Briara yelled and ran straight towards Voldemort. Voldemort swung his scythe down towards her but she ducked, the sharp blade only cutting into her right arm instead of decapitating her. Using her forward momentum, Briara slammed her new sword straight through the Dark Lords stomach.

With a surprised gurgle, Voldemort fell backward off the blade and onto the ground. Briara collapsed to her knees, relieved, no-one could possibly survive a wound like that, the stomach acids would begin to eat at the rest of the body's tissues.

The battle field (formerly the Quiditch Pitch) was silent. Everyone turned to the fallen Dark Lord and the sixteen year old girl with the bloody sword clenched in her fists. Some of the death eaters began to apparate away, knowing their Lords reign was at an end.

But Voldemort had one more trick up his sleeve. As his eyes began to close for eternity the words to a spell could be barely heard coming from his bloodied lips.

"Alius Ego, Alius Rudimentum." Another me, another attempt. A large crack, like a thousand people apparating at once, resounded over the castle grounds. Followed by a clang as a bloody sword fell to the ground and hit a rock that a girl had once tripped over. A girl who was no longer anywhere to be found.

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Well, that's it for now, I will continue it as time allows, but I am very busy with school and work. Hope most of you liked it, if not, then at least I wasted your time.

I apologize for any spelling errors, I'm a biology major, not an English major.