Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, the stories and its characters all belong to their proper owners.
Author's Note: After reading all the clichéd before the battle, during the battle, and after the battle stories in which Harry wins I got fed up and wrote this, hopefully it's a bit more original.
Summary: "The closer you get to the light, the larger your shadow becomes." --Kingdom Hearts... ONE-SHOT
Warnings: Major!Character Death(s), violence, first person POV, swearing
Notes: Written (notes, letters, ect.)
What if your entire life was laid out in advance, I don't mean like a path of stepping stones, more like a tree, with many paths and branches? Some people believe in faith and destiny, personally I believe faith is a bitch and destiny is little better. For some the hand of destiny and faith are obvious. Take Harry Potter for example, and what a horrible hand for destiny and faith to deal him, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
For some, like Mr. Potter, destiny and faith never give them a chance to live life, other, less deserving people live full happy lives completely under appreciating said lives. I know, I used to be one of these under appreciating people, still am in many ways, but now I appreciate it and cherish each day, even with the thought that I'm living off of borrowed time, it's only a matter of time before They find me, and They want me dead.
But I needed to chronicle this and save it for prosperity, so this knowledge doesn't die with me. I'm the last, the survivor of the group and this is the reason I am doomed.
There was nothing particularly interesting about Harry Potter. He was thin and short having survived years of malnutrition and neglect at the hands of his relatives, the Dursleys. His appearance was probably the most noticeable thing about him. He had expressive emerald green eyes, but no one saw them for their true worth as they seemed hidden behind some of the thickest glasses in the entire world, and they still weren't the proper prescription. However, more startling than his eyes, was the thin lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, a thing that his messy black hair never seemed to hide, even when he flattened said hair against his forehead.
This scar was what made Harry Potter interesting, much to his extreme displeasure, as it caused him nothing but pain and hardships. It was all do to that thrice damned prophecy, the one that spoke of the downfall of a very jealous and power hungry dark lord. It had said that 'Neither could live while the other survived,' well to put it nicely for all sixteen years of his life, from the point that he was cursed with that scar to the point this story concerns, Harry Potter had not lived, merely survived and that is no way to go through life.
Before what had always been dubbed "The Final Battle" in the second war against the Dark Lord Voldemort (also known as You-Know-Who and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named) people had a very romanticized view of what would happen, well at least those cheering for the side of light. Most assumed that they'd have some time to prepare and that there would be lines of fighters on both sides of a very distinct line. Some believed that everything would come full circle and Mr. Potter would defeat You-Know-Who in Godric's Hallow on October 31st of some year, preferably sooner than later. Some believed, mostly close friends and acquaintances believed that it would take place on the lawns of Hogwarts. Others thought that in the final battle Harry would turn knowledge of Salazar Slytherin against his mortal enemy, destroying him before the boy could even cast "Avada Kedavra." And still others believed that Harry Potter was the heir of Gryffindor and that the final battle would be the deciding factor in the thousand year feud between the rivals. The last group was the closest to being correct, but they were still pretty far off base.
The first things that must be known about "The Final Battle" is that the location was a non-descript muggle street and it was not high noon, nor was it dusk, twilight, or night. In fact it was closer to seven thirty in the morning. The second was that there were very few people around to witness it and even fewer to help. The third was that Harry Potter was caught completely unawares and their was no declaration that this would be "The Final Battle."
Harry Potter rounded the corner, his jogging taking him down Wisteria Walk. His plan for his morning jog had been to run up Privet Drive until he reached Wisteria Walk, jog down Wisteria Walk until he reached the alley between Wisteria Walk and Magnolia Crescent, sprint through the alley and return to Privet Drive via a jog along the curving Magnolia Crescent.
However, as some muggle once noted, the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. Harry's plans went awry in the. The only person who might have been able to summon help and prevent the following encounter from turning into "The Final Battle" was having a bit of a lie in and was the actual target of the "attack," Mr. Potter was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Harry had not spotted the Death Eaters the moment he rounded the corner, after all he didn't expect to and it's a proven fact that the human mind doesn't see everything unless it expects to see it. Harry didn't expect to see Death Eaters until he was nearly on top of them. Many would blame his glasses and poor vision for this, but a psychologist would disapprove this notion, even though Mr. Potter needed a stronger prescription, that however leads into the next part.
Mr. Potter was unsure what to do, he was barely seventeen, but even at seventeen his wand could still be snapped by the ministry for performing magic in a muggle inhabited area where muggles could easily view it; however, he was smart enough to know that he couldn't walk up to them and say, "Can we please move to an area where the muggles can't see us, Mr. or Ms. Death Eater." He also knew that he couldn't run, well, he could, however it was extremely unlikely that he'd make it to a safe place before the Death Eaters could stun him. Mrs. Figg lived about half way up the street and that's where the Death Eaters were assembled. Harry hadn't spotted them until he was about a quarter down the street, half way to the alley, which was directly across from the Death Eaters.
They had spotted him and it was with fear and trepidation that he turned around upon hearing someone apparate behind him. His fear was not unjustified as he stared into red eyes which stared at him from a snake like face. He only had a moment to think his last thoughts, 'I guess my luck's run out,' before a flash of green light flooded his vision.
Harry Potter was dead before he could complain about the concussion he would have received from his head hitting the pavement. Voldemort, who now stood over the dead body, blinked, unsure of what to do. He had partly believed the romanticized versions of "The Final Battle" the wizarding world held and had strove for years to make it so. However, it had ended with barely a wave of his wand on a partly cloudy day in early August before Mr. Potter even had a chance to get his apparition license. Finally, when he came to senses, he cast the dark mark into the sky. Aurors would arrive to find the body of Harry James Potter lying in the middle of a muggle street, the Dark Mark hanging over his head.
And so you know the events of what happened in the life of Harry James Potter. He was my one true friend and the only person who didn't call me Loony. Now he's gone to his great reward, if he hasn't, some higher power is going to answer to me very soon as I think I hear them coming, I better get rid of this.
--Luna "Loony" Lovegood
The owl that dropped Luna's letter off in the one place no one would look for it for a few years, was a familiar snowy owl who went to the only person she could. However, the delivery of the letter was her last as when she delivered it she laid down beside it, and stopped moving, her once snowy white feathers stained red with blood that wasn't completely her own.