A/N: This is a one-shot story. I hope you enjoy it! Written/Completed: April 1, 2006.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that has to do with the Harry Potter universe made by the spectacular J.K. Rowling.


"Avada Kedavra!" came the ferocious shouts simultaneously as two bright, powerful green surges spurt from Harry and Voldemort's wands.

Professors, students, aurors, death eaters, and onlookers all halted their actions at the sound of the shouts and turned to face the final duel that greeted them. Voldemort's snakelike eyes glared at Harry as he tried to reposition his wand so his curse would hit Harry directly. Harry's eyes were focused sharply on his true enemy as; he too, tried to manoeuvre his wand. Both their attempts failed, for the magical surges were too powerful to move and adjust. This time, there was no Priori Incantatem that would help the seventeen-year-old wizard; he was on his own.

Dumbledore's voice filled Harry's head with the words of the prophecy. "Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…"

Sacrifice. Harry glanced over at Ron, and he received a knowing nod. He had discussed a plan with Ron, Fred, and George about what he would need them to do if he had to sacrifice himself. No one knew of the plan, not even Albus Dumbledore.


Harry, Ron, Fred, and George were gathered in the broom closet after a Quidditch match, and the three brothers awaited the information Harry had to tell them.

"All right guys, thank you for staying here with me," Harry started off casually.

"Go on of you. What's this about, mate?" Fred pressed curiously.

Sighing, Harry continued. "Remember two years ago when we broke into the Department of Mysteries to retrieve the prophecy made about me and Voldemort?"

"Yeah," the redhead trio replied.

"Well, I'm going to tell you what it states."

"Why?" George questioned vaguely.

"You'll find out in a bit, George," Harry declared. "The prophecy in my own words is this – When the final battle occurs I must either be a murderer or be murdered. Neither Voldemort nor me can survive while the other one lives."

Silence met his declaration.

"Are you guys still with me?" Harry pondered, light-humouredly.

"Oh Gods, Harry," Fred muttered disbelievingly.

"Harry, you're so young," George stated, jadedly.

"Ron, I already told you about this last year. Why do you look so dumbstruck?"

"Because I kind of wished it not to be true."

"But it is, Ron. It's very true, and real."

"Why didn't you tell us sooner, mate?" Fred asked seriously, his voice laced with concern and worry for the boy who had become a member of the Weasley family in the past seven years.

"Because I didn't want everyone fretting over me."

"Why inform us now, then?" George asked; his voice edged with confusion and anxiety.

"I need a favour from you lot. A sacred, unbreakable vow."

"Go on," the three, curious Weasley brothers demanded.

"The final battle is going to occur soon; I can feel it. Voldemort… The battle is going to be very strenuous and vying. There may come a point in the battle where our wands connect through a magical surge – If that happens, I'm going to have too… sac…sacrifice myself."

"Harry, no!"

"We won't allow it!"

"Mate, you're talking mad!"

"Guys let me finish!" Harry's voice thundered more fiercely than planned. Calming down, the raven-haired teen continued. "In order for the prophecy to be fulfilled, sacrificing myself would leave Voldemort open and vulnerable to anyone. If this occurs, my sacrificing myself, I need for you three to promise me to cast the killing curse on Voldemort until it kills him. Will you three promise me this?"

"Yes," came the immediate, sincere responses.

Harry nodded gratefully, and they carried out the unbreakable vow ceremony.

End of Flashback

Harry glanced swiftly at his best friend Hermione who was watching him anxiously and gave a small, dismal smile inwardly. Then he glanced at the love of his life. She stood transfixed between her parents, Ginny Weasley. The life they had discussed of sharing was always just a dream; Harry knew that. But as he saw the tears glistening in Ginny's eyes, Harry realized all too late that Ginny had thought those conversations a reality, a glimpse into their future. Regret tore at his heart, and he realized there was nothing he could do about his terrible course of actions now. Once more he met Ron's figure and saw him telling his brothers something. Fred, George, and Ron who gave him knowing, affirmative nods met Harry's gaze. With a nod himself, Harry averted his gaze back to Voldemort and gave him one last, final glare of pure hatred before pulling his wand back and feeling the full-blow of the green, killing curse blasting him in the chest, and sending him flying feet backwards curdling through the air. The last thought Harry had before the wonderful, peaceful darkness succumbed him was his and Ginny's last kiss that they had shared an hour before this moment in time.

Everyone's gasps of shock and horror faded away as they stared at Harry's unmoving form. Voldemort let out a cry of triumphant, blasted laughter as he saw Harry's body land motionless on the ground. However, Voldemort's triumph came to an abrupt end as the Weasley brothers carried out the sacred and unbreakable vow that they had made with Harry.

"Avada Kedavra!" came Fred's angry growl.

Voldemort let out a roar of animosity as he fell to his knees.

"Avada Kedavra!" George shouted with great acrimony.

Voldemort fell onto his back as he withered and twitched in agony.

The youngest of the brothers aimed his wand at the murderous enemy lying on the ground, and with all his determination and fury radiating from his eyes and voice, Ron bellowed, "Avada Kedavra!"

Voldemort's body stilled, and lifeless eyes faced the stunned and confused spectators.

Hermione was the first to recover from the transfixion, and she ran over to Harry's side, followed closely by Ron. Harry's eyes were glazed and bloodshot, and his body shook violently. Harry coughed and blood spurted out from the corners of his closed mouth. When he began gagging on the blood, Hermione shifted his body tenderly and lifted his head gently and cushioned it on her lap.

Noticing Fred and George by their side, Ron told them, "Go get Madam Pomfrey, now! And hurry!"

The twins obeyed, and started off towards Hogwarts castle from the Forbidden Forest.

Harry's eyelids began to flutter shut, but Hermione gently shook him to alertness. "No, Harry, you can't go to sleep. Fred and George are getting Madam Pomfrey. She'll heal you right up."

"Di'itwork?" Harry asked in a slurred voice.

"Yeah, mate, it did. He… Voldemort's dead."

"Good." Harry's lips parted into the slightest smile, this simple task causing him to grimace in pain.

"Watcha smilin' about, mate?"

"Ya said Vold…demort."

"Yeah I guess I did. You should be proud, mate."

"I am." Harry's eyes dropped once more, and he swallowed painfully.

"Tell us something, Harry. Talk to us. You need to stay awake, honey." Hermione said in a pleading voice, as she gently shook him conscious.

"Tell us the best thing you ever received from your childhood." Ron suggested, immediately regretting what he had just prompted. He knew Harry's family never gave him anything.

"My howrsey." Harry said, barely lucid and barely audible in that matter. "Aun' 'Tunia gave me 'im." Harry's words were now those of a small child's.

"Why did you get the horse, Harry?"

Harry was blinking his eyes in a futile attempt to keep them open. "To keep me from bein' scawred."

"Scared of what, mate?"

"No 'aving mommy and daddy."

"That was nice of your Aunt Petunia, Harry."

"Mate, what's one thing you've never got in life?" Ron received a smack on the arm from Hermione because of this question.

A lone tear escaped Harry's eye as he sniffled back further tears. "I loveded my howrsey. But I's never was loveded. I only wants to be loveded." Harry's eyes closed as he said, "Nobody loves me."

Hermione shrieked in terror as Harry's body went limp in her arms. Ron choked back his tears. Fred, George, and Madam Pomfrey had just arrived, but they were too late. The Boy-Who-Lived had had to bear the weight of the Wizarding World on his shoulders for seventeen years due to a simple but extremely powerful, blasted scar on his forehead. But now, due to selflessness, a sacrifice had been made and all that was left of the Boy-Who-Lived was the source of all his suffering and the object that marred his very skin… Harry James Potter's infamous, blasted, lightning bolt shaped scar.

A/N: Well, what did you all think? This suddenly came into my mind and I just had to write it! Butterfly Kisses will be updated next Friday night! Please leave me a review and tell me what you all thought! Thanks, Stacey :)