Harry Potter and his New Beginning

Hello my friends! This is the Quill of Gryffindor!

To those who are reading this for the first time, then welcome! I hope you enjoy this story! For those who have read this story in the past, welcome back! I'm sorry I took so long to come back, but I am back now! REGULAR SERVICE WILL RESUME!

This is one of my oldest and longest stories, and its about to get a good deal longer! If you have looked at what should be Chapter 16, you will know that I have started to rewrite this story. Not only has my writing style changed a great deal since I first started, I now dislike some of the decisions I made while writing it.

Harry Potter and his New Beginning is so far a partially rewritten story. Chapter One, Two, and Three have all been finished, but I am still working on the others. I have left the soon to be rewritten chapters up for you to read, but there may be some conflict between the new stuff and the old.

As ever, I hope you enjoy my work. If you like the rewritten chapters, not don't as the case may be, please leave a review and pass on your feedback (constructive criticism only though, please).

Without further ado, I give you the rewritten start to our adventure! Chapter One!

Prologue

Chapter One: The end...and the beginning

The grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had fallen silent.

Nestled in the heart of the Scottish highlands, the ancient castle had been a home to Britain's magical children for over a thousand years. It was a place of knowledge and wisdom, open and accepting to all who wished to learn about magic.

And yet now, it burned.

The largest magical battle fought in Britain in the last one hundred years had just taken place on the grounds of the school. Far too many people had been killed on both sides of the conflict, and many more would die before the day was done.

For a time, however, the fighting had ceased, leaving the castle bathed in silence. The moon shone down on the ancient fortress, casting it in an eerie otherworldly glow. This serene and tranquil moment almost belied the fact that only a few minutes ago, a fierce battle had raged across the castle, leaving casualties on both sides.

The blood on the grass and stone was still fresh.

In a perverse act of mercy, the self-proclaimed dark lord had allowed the defenders of the school to retrieve their dead and heal their wounded before the battle recommenced. This brief respite, however, did not change a simple fact.

In the battle between good and evil...good was losing.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you."

The voice of Lord Voldemort echoed across the empty grounds to the defenders hurriedly preparing in the castle. All eyes turned towards the forest fearfully, as they listened to the monster speak.

"You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up; then battle recommences."

There was a pause for a moment, before, with a hint of laughter, he continued.

"This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

With his message delivered, the grounds fell silent once more.

Within the ruined halls and corridors of Hogwarts, the recipient of the message sat on the floor, leaning his back against a stone wall. Harry James Potter, a bespectacled young man with black hair and green eyes, stared blankly at the ground and pondered the message.

The threat swam around in his mind, his nemesis' words becoming ever more menacing and evil with each recitation.

"…you have permitted your friends to die…"

Guilt and despair gripped and twisted his heart as the voice echoed in his mind. For the first time in a long while, a sob escaped his lips and he openly cried. The tears streaked down his dirty and bloodstained face, and he shut his eyes tightly at the pain those words caused.

"How many have died in the name of protecting me?" He murmured miserably, thinking back to the disaster the past few years had been. "Sirius, Moody, Dobby, Remus, Tonks..."

Harry's thoughts then turned to his young godson, Teddy. Only a baby, not even a year old, and he had already lost both his parents. He would grow up without a mother or a father, just as he himself had. But unlike him, Teddy would likely never get to meet his godfather.

"…I shall wait for one hour…one hour..."

The Boy-Who-Lived sighed tiredly as the daunting time limit returned to his mind.

He had failed, there was no way getting around that. The mission that Albus Dumbledore had left for him as his legacy was almost complete…tantalisingly so. However, the last piece of Riddle's immortality sat directly at the dark lord's feet.

While he desperately tried to think of a way to kill Voldemort's serpent familiar, to pull victory from the jaws of defeat, he knew it was impossible. The dark lord now knew what they had been pursuing for the past few months.

Not only was Nagini incredibly well protected behind the evil wizard's own shield charm, but she was surrounded by him and his minions. It simply was not possible. It would be suicidal to even attempt it.

It was at that moment the haunting words of Sybill Trelawney floated through his tired mind.

"…For neither can live, while the other survives…"

Was that his fate? Was his death necessary for victory? Was he only to pave the way to Tom Riddle's demise, for another to strike the final blow? Neville was still alive, Harry mused, and he was the other prophecy child.

Perhaps everyone had interpreted the prediction incorrectly. Divination is, as Professor McGonagall would say, a 'woolly discipline'. But was that explanation, barely even a hunch, worth risking his life for?

"...and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me."

Those words brought an end to his thoughts and indecision, with a moment of blinding clarity. It didn't matter. Whether or not the prophecy had been correctly interpreted was irrelevant. If he didn't surrender himself, more people would die because of him.

And that was unacceptable.

With his realisation, his path was laid out for him. He knew what to do. It was time to face his destiny.

Dragging himself to his feet he pulled his invisibility cloak, one of the Deathly Hallows, around his shoulders and set off through the castle. As Harry walked through the lonely, but familiar halls of Hogwarts, his mind harked back to happier times.

He remembered how busy the school was normally. To see it like this was painful. He could almost picture the school as it once was: the bustle of students moving between classes, the incredible din of all their voices speaking together...

It had been wonderful to experience. Hogwarts usually felt so alive, but now...it felt so lifeless and empty. He felt so alone. And not for the first time, he wished his friends were with him.

'God, I wish I could see them all now…' Harry thought sadly. '…Ron…'

"…Anyone sitting here? Everywhere else is full…"

"…Sunshine, daises, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow…"

"…Oy, pea-brain…"

'…Neville…'

"…Gran, I've lost my toad again…"

"…Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours. I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed…"

"…I won't let you do it. I'll – I'll fight you…"

'…Hermione…'

"…Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have…"

"…We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled…"

"…Me! Books! And cleverness! There are more important things-friendship and bravery and-oh Harry-be careful…"

"Hermione..." Harry murmured, "Oh Merlin, I wish you were here right now."

Somehow, even with his world about to end, his thoughts turned to the brown haired, auburn eyed witch.

Since Halloween 1991, she had been his one true constant. Hermione had never left his side throughout all their adventures, right from the moment he had shoved his wand up the nose of an irate troll.

Whenever Harry thought of her, it made him smile with an indescribable feeling in his chest.

Lost in his musings, Harry almost didn't notice that he was walking past the entrance to the Great Hall. Deciding to stop for a moment, he stepped up to the open doors and looked in on the people inside.

The bright fires, the floating candles and the five long tables were gone. In their place was a room which looked nothing like his memory.

All along the floor were rows upon rows of white sheets, each covering the lifeless body of a person he knew. The hall was silent and dark. The familiar sound of children's laughter and joy which usually graced the space was painfully absent. In its place were the gentle sobs and tears of mourners.

As Harry's eyes scanned the room, they fell upon a large gathering of red headed men and women, standing over a body.

Molly Weasley was kneeling down next to the pale body of Fred, crying heavily and cradling his body. Arthur Weasley was alongside her, trying to comfort his distraught wife, all the while fighting the tears and sobs which threatened to come out and break his control over his emotions.

George knelt on the opposite side of the body, just staring down at his unmoving twin. The mischievous glint which was always present in his eyes was gone, leaving him looking empty and hollow.

Stood at the feet of the body were Ron and Ginny, side by side. His best friend was completely expressionless, his eyes puffy and his face red from tears that had long since passed. He held his sister, Ginny, tightly, who had hidden her face in his shoulder, crying with painful sobs.

Harry's heart panged as he watched her cry, but he fought with himself to stay hidden and out of sight, lest they try and stop him.

As he finished his sweep of the space, his eyes fell upon the bodies of Remus and Tonks, lying side by side. The faces of the newlywed pair were uncovered, their eyes closed as though they might have been sleeping. Laid side by side, the couple's fingertips were almost touching. Harry stifled a sob and tore his eyes away from the sight.

Looking at the unmoving bodies of his honorary uncle and aunt once more conjured up the image of a young Teddy Lupin, growing up without his parents. As tears stung Harry's tired eyes, he turned away and walked towards the main doors.

"It should have been me." He whispered to himself. "It should have been me, oh God, why wasn't it me?" Just as he crossed the threshold of the school, he lost control of his emotions and burst into tears.

Harry stopped for a moment to try and stop his tears and stifle his sobs, which were racking through his body painfully. As he did so, he glanced up at the castle, his true home since his eleventh birthday.

The resplendent towers, parapets and ramparts which dominated the skyline and grounds of Hogwarts Castle had become ruins. Huge sections of the rooftops and masonry had collapsed, and the wooden supports were burning, the fire leaving a faint orange flicker against the black, smoke filled sky.

Harry remembered crossing the Great Lake in the boats in his first year. The nervousness and anxiety he had been feeling since boarding the Hogwarts Express vanished upon seeing the breathtaking sight of the castle. Seeing it for the first time was truly magical.

He hoped that someday, the castle would be restored to the way he remembered. Not that he would get to see it...

Harry's thoughts darkened once more, and he began to walk again.

"What a bloody nightmare these past few years have been..." he murmured to himself.

The mission to gather Riddle's horcruxes had been a disaster right from the beginning. Yes, he had unknowingly destroyed one in his second year, but Professor Dumbledore had not told him at the time. Instead, it was in his sixth year that he began to learn the truth.

Lord Voldemort, his mortal enemy, was in fact immortal. Until they found his five remaining soul anchors, he could not die. While Dumbledore had found and destroyed the second item, it had cursed him incurably with less than a year to live.

Their search for the third horcrux was a failure, as it had already been taken by Regulus Black and Kreacher. And then add to that Professor Dumbledore, the one man who knew about Riddle's horcruxes, was murdered at his own instruction by Severus Snape.

Set back after set back, with very little progress. Professor Dumbledore had left him a monumental task to complete, with very little knowledge or guidance. They were essentially left to wander around for a year, following what leads they had, hoping to find more of the horcruxes.

Harry had believed he could do it, though. So long as he had his friends, Ron and Hermione.

Once again, his thoughts turned back to Hermione.

The journey had been tough on them all, but on her particularly. She had wiped her parent's memories and sent them away to protect them. She had disguised herself as Harry, at great risk, in their daring escape from Privet Drive. She had prepared for their journey, so very carefully. She had been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange when they were captured.

But despite all this, Hermione had never once hesitated before helping him.

He remembered her tears when Ron abandoned them in a fit of horcrux induced rage. He remembered her laughter and joy filled face as she danced with him in their tent in the Forest of Dean. He remembered her being by his side as they stood in front of his parent's grave in Godric's Hollow.

Hermione had always been there, right from the beginning. When the odds were against them and the going got tough, she was there, by his side.

Harry had always, albeit reluctantly, been the leader of their group, but she was the brains behind the brawn. She had a knack to nearly always make Harry see the logical side of an argument, even when it went against his instincts. But when logic failed and Harry made the wrong decision, she would come with him regardless and support him.

Hermione would have followed him into the pits of Hell, he knew, if that was where he needed to go. His heart tingled and he smiled to himself.

There was no one in the world quite like Hermione Jean Granger.

As Harry passed the burning wreckage of Hagrid's hut and neared journey's end, he desperately wished she was here with him. Completely absorbed in his thoughts and musings, he did not notice a figure move up behind him pointing a wand at his back until it was too late.

"Ventus!" A voice yelled.

Harry was completely unprepared for the spell. The magical gust of wind blew his cloak out of his hands, revealing his presence. Though he quickly caught it again, the damage was done. As he drew his wand, his unknown assailant halted him with another spell.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry froze, wand outstretched, unable to move from his position.

While stuck, he noticed that the voice of his attacker sounded familiar, but he could not place it. However, he knew it was most likely one of Voldemort's minions waiting for him in case he tried to escape.

'This is it.' He thought with an anxious swallow. 'This is how it ends. They will take me to Voldemort and it will all be over.' Harry's heart pounded in fear as he felt someone snatch his wand from his frozen hand.

Just as he was prepared to hear some death eater rhetoric from his captor, his eyes widened as he realised where he had heard her voice. Harry did not expect her to be his attacker.

"Harry, what in Merlin's name, ARE YOU DOING?" She whispered angrily, barely restraining the loud reprimand she wanted to give him.

Harry felt his heart soar with the realisation. If he could smile at that moment, he was certain that it would be nearly from ear to ear. It was Hermione. His eyes were alive with joy as she walked into his field of vision and pointed her wand at him again.

"Finite," she incanted softly.

At soon as he was released from the spell, Hermione rushed him with one of her notorious rib-breaking Hermione-hugs. Suspecting that she was likely not letting go anytime soon, Harry returned the hug just as enthusiastically, and the pair stood in the darkened grounds in a tight embrace.

As the hug continued, Hermione began to sob quietly into his shoulder, as the horror of the battle caught up with her, venting her tears onto Harry's robes. Trying to sooth her, he began gently rocking her from side to side. They stayed there, clinging on to one another, until her sobs began to subside.

After a short while, Harry stepped back from the hug and looked into Hermione's tear-stained, chocolate brown eyes, and conversely, she too began to stare into his emerald green. They did not speak, they simply looked at the other, satisfying themselves that they were both ok.

As Harry looked at her, he observed her dirty, blood stained face, and idly mused over how beautiful Hermione really was, the familiar warmth filling his chest as he did so.

Harry had known for a long time how much she meant to him. It had taken time for him to identify it as love, but he had been certain of the fact by the end of their third year. Despite this, however, he had never acted on his feelings.

He was afraid. Afraid of losing the single most valuable and cherished thing he had found during his time in the magical world – her friendship. He had not been willing to gamble something so precious. Not even potentially for her love.

Harry very quickly dismissed those dangerous thoughts. 'Now is really not the time.' He thought to himself. Inwardly, however, part of him wondered when the right time would be.

While Harry wrestled with himself, Hermione was having a similar mental debate.

Harry had always been special to her. From the moment they had met on the Hogwarts Express, she had seen that he was a nice boy. He was shy and a bit awkward at times, but when he jumped on the back of a mountain troll to rescue her, she came to realise that he was so much more.

Harry was friendly, kind, and able to look past the surface of a person to see who they were underneath. He was insanely brave, willing to put himself in danger for anyone who needed help. He was steadfastly loyal to his friends, and inspired such loyalty in return. But most importantly, he was a truly caring soul, capable of so much love.

He cared so much about his fellows, even if he didn't know or trust them. Once he did, however, he would be there no matter what. Harry Potter was such a beautiful soul, despite all his hardship over the years. She found his nature endearing, despite his flaws, and very quickly she had grown to love him.

To a lonely girl who had been shunned by her peers for much of her life, having Harry's friendship was more valuable than anything, however. So like Harry, she never acted on her feelings. She would have him in one way. That would be enough.

"Hermione…" Harry began softly, breaking the silence.

His voice made her shiver.

Hermione knew full well what he was going to say and she didn't want to hear it. With a sob, she closed her eyes tightly and went back to holding the wizard in a death grip, trying to stop him from proceeding. Placing his hands on her cheeks, he gently turned her face up to meet his gaze. His thumbs softly rubbed her cheek as he smiled.

"Hermione," he repeated, "we both know that I have to go. I have no choice. I care too much about the people in that castle," he murmured, wiping a tear from her face as it fell down her cheek, "especially you."

As he spoke, Hermione was ready to argue and persuade him to find another course, when his final words settled in her mind. She froze, those two words echoing in her mind. Did he feel for her as she did for him? She quickly shook herself free from her moment of hesitation.

"Please don't go, Harry," she pleaded, "you know what he'll do to you!" Harry flinched, but nodded resolutely.

"Yes, I do," he murmured hoarsely, "but it's necessary. I won't let anyone else die for me!"

"You won't let us?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Harry, you aren't asking the people defending Hogwarts to die for you! They are choosing to fight for you – they believe in you, and they care about you..." she bit her lip, before adding, "...especially me."

Harry's eyes widened at her last two words. Had she seen through his veiled admission? But why had she said it back? Did she feel the same? The warm feeling returned with brute force and he dared to hope.

"Hermione," he whispered disbelievingly, "do you...do you mean care...the same way I mean care?" She rolled her eyes and smiled at the stumbling Harry-ish way he had asked her how she felt.

"That would depend on how you mean care, Harry." She replied cheekily. The Boy-Who-Lived quickly became flustered, realising what he had asked, and he stammered out a reply.

"Wha...I-I, er, I mean...oh bloody hell," he mumbled in embarrassment.

Inwardly, Hermione was ecstatic. He felt the same way. Even if he hadn't said it outright, his actions spoke louder than his words. Perhaps she should show him too. Summoning up a tremendous amount of courage, she placed her hands on his cheeks and smiled at him.

"Harry, hush..." Hermione murmured, before kissing him on the lips.

Initially surprised by her bold response, Harry's eyes fluttered closed reflexively and he began returning the kiss, drawing his hands through her dishevelled hair. As he began to return her embrace, she let out a quiet moan and parted her lips, deepening the kiss.

While the intimate and loving embrace continued, neither Harry nor Hermione noticed the white sphere of light enveloping them in the darkness. It stood out in the black grounds of the castle, shining like a beacon in the night, and could have been seen from the highest tower, should anyone have been there to look.

As their first kiss drew to a close, the light enclosing the pair faded into darkness. Their eyes flickered open, and once more they stared into each other's eyes. They felt different. It was as if a long lost part of them they didn't even realise was missing had just been restored. For the first time in their lives, they felt truly complete.

After sharing a goofy smile, Harry gently cupped her face and leant in for another kiss. They had never felt this close to another person before in their lives, and they relished in the contact and sensations.

"Hermione," Harry exclaimed, as they came apart once more, "I never realised that...that you felt the same way I feel about you!" She smiled bashfully.

"I'm a bit surprised myself," Hermione retorted, "I had no idea how you felt either!" She paused and bit her lip. "I...Harry, you have to understand. I care for you so much! I was afraid. Afraid of losing your friendship! I couldn't bare it if I lost you. I didn't think you felt the same, so..." Harry nodded.

"So you kept your feelings hidden." He finished, receiving a nod in return. "In the interest of honesty," he hesitated for a moment, before continuing, "I was exactly the same. I've always felt something for you, right from when I first met you on the Hogwarts Express! It confused me at first as to what I was feeling, so I decided to try and become your friend, to get close to you. It took me a while to figure it out, but...I care for you so much. I...I love you, Hermione." He finished softly.

With his confession, Hermione's heart melted, tears streaming down her face. Harry used the ball of his thumb to capture her tears.

"I didn't want to say anything for the same reason as you. I…I thought you would reject me…that you thought of me more as a brother. Then there's Ron…" Harry began, before Hermione placed a finger on his lips.

"I never loved Ron." She admitted. "I…I thought I did, but now that I think about it, it seems more like a spur-of-the-moment thing. I was lonely and I needed someone." Harry was about to speak, but Hermione silenced him again. "No, Harry. It couldn't have been you; I wasn't sure how you would react."

Hermione bit her lip once more, hesitating for a moment. She pondered whether to reveal a secret, before throwing caution to the wind.

"When...when we were in the tent, dancing together..." she whispered, "I nearly lost control of myself. I wanted to tell you how I felt, to end the charade...but I couldn't. I wasn't brave enough. I left before I did something, and spent the night crying." She whispered.

Now it was Harry's turn to cry, with tears mixing with the blood and sweat on his face. She went to continue, but Harry stopped her, giving her another brief kiss on the lips and pulling her into an embrace.

"It doesn't matter Hermione. The past doesn't matter. We are together now. We know how the other feels and we are together. That's all that matters." He smiled at Hermione, which she returned. They hugged each other tightly, gently rocking from side-to-side.

For that brief moment, Harry had completely forgotten about Riddle, horcruxes, the battle and the war. None of it mattered. They had confessed how they felt, and not been left disappointed. Slowly however, his elation faded and the reality of the situation crept back into his thoughts.

Harry had come to the forest to die.

He had accepted the necessity of his sacrifice, to save the others. But now, the moment he had dreamt about for years had happened. He had told Hermione how he felt, and she told him she felt the same. He was happy. Why was fate so cruel, to give him this now?

It simply wasn't fair. He had something to live for now. Why was he being punished? While his mind raged at the injustice, he remembered something Hermione had said to him in the Forest of Dean.

"Maybe we should just stay here, Harry. Grow old..."

Now, after learning that they felt the same way for each other, he wished they had. He wished that they had just said, to hell with it all, and hidden. Lived their lives together, away from the war and bloodshed, and grown old together.

"I wish we had stayed in the Forest of Dean." Harry whispered, more to himself. She heard his plaintive words, however, and gently took his hand.

"So do I." she replied sadly, squeezing his hand.

The two looked into each other's eyes for a moment, before pulling themselves into another tight embrace. Tears fell freely now, as they realised what was about to happen. After a time, Harry pulled back and sighed.

"I need to go." He said sadly. Hermione nodded weakly, while trying to hold back her tears.

"I know." She replied sorrowfully.

Harry took one last look at her face, drinking in her features, before turning to walk into the forest. As he did so, a hand snapped to his wrist and he turned back. Hermione held his arm gently, a resolute expression on her face.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked confusedly. Hermione did not reply immediately. She instead straightened to her full height and moved to stand beside him.

"I am not letting you go alone." She said firmly.

"What?!" Harry exclaimed in horror.

Was she insane? She knew what was going to happen to him in the forest. He wouldn't let her throw her life away. Not for him. Not when she didn't need to die.

"No," he began to argue, "I won't let..." the rest of his words were cut off by her hand across his mouth.

"No." Hermione responded strongly. "I am not letting you go in there alone. Not after all this. Not after knowing you feel the same." Tears trickled down his cheeks as she spoke. "I love you Harry. I have just found you and I am never, ever going to let you go." She smiled at him caringly. "It's you and me, Harry. Just the way it has been from the beginning. It's you and me...to the end."

Slowly, while trying to read his expression, she carefully withdrew her hand from covering his mouth. The moment she did, he pulled her into a kiss, holding her tightly. She held him back just as tightly. As they pulled back, he offered her a weak smile.

"I love you too." He rasped tremulously, before letting out a whooshing sigh. "I'm bloody terrified, Hermione." She took his hand once more and rubbed it gently with her thumb.

"So am I, Harry," she replied softly, "so am I." He nodded, and took a deep breath.

"Ok. You and me," he murmured in agreement, "you and me to the end."

After sharing one last embrace, Harry pulled his cloak over both of them, and the duo set off into the Forbidden Forest hand in hand. It had taken them a while, but they were together at last.

Together, and ready to meet their destiny.

After making his direct address to the Boy-Who-Lived, Tom Riddle, the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort, stood at the far side of a clearing in the Forbidden Forest.

They had used the forest as a staging area for their attack on the castle, and he had remained there for much of the battle, content to allow his minions to attack alone. His surviving death eaters stood around the perimeter of the clearing, watching for Potter.

As he waited for the boy's arrival, the dark lord inspected his newly acquired weapon, the Elder Wand. The wand, also known as the death stick, was rumoured to be a source of immense magical power, and was supposed to be unbeatable in a duel.

The weapon allegedly had a bloody history, being passed on after the grisly murder of its current owner. This very wand had been wielded by the dark lord Gellert Grindelwald in his conquest of magical Europe, and most recently by his great enemy Albus Dumbledore.

How ironic it is, he considered, that the very wand Dumbledore used in defence of the light, would be used to destroy Potter and crush those still fighting his rule. Riddle smirked coldly as the thought crossed his mind.

Speaking of Potter, however...

The two men he had ordered to stand outside of the forest waiting for Potter, Dolohov and Yaxley, had entered the circle and stood before him. Sensing their approach, Voldemort looked up and stared coldly at his servants.

"No sign of him yet, my Lord," said Dolohov, eyes averted to the ground out of fear and respect.

Voldemort's red eyes did not betray his emotions, remaining as they always did, cold and emotionless. The eyes of every death eater were now on their lord, excitedly anticipating his next decision.

"My Lord…" Bellatrix began, before she was silenced by Voldemort's hand. The dark lord sighed, and once more began to study his new wand.

"I thought he would come," said Voldemort in his high, clear voice, his eyes blazing like flames, "I expected him to come."

The witches and wizards in the clearing watched their master intently. He had yet to make a move, or give them an order, despite the fact that Potter's time had been up for at least five minutes. Finally, after a pause, the dark lord spoke again.

"I was, it seems...mistaken," said Voldemort.

"You weren't." An invisible voice replied coldly.

Harry and Hermione tore off the invisibility cloak and stood defiantly in the centre of the clearing. The Death Eaters stood staring at the newcomers, visibly shocked that the pair had managed to sneak into their midst without anyone noticing.

As soon as they appeared, Voldemort began to observe the intruders in his presence, for any signs of movement. His piercing red eyes bored into Harry's, who gripped Hermione's hand tightly, trying not to betray his absolute terror in front of Voldemort or his minions.

Harry noticed that coiling by the dark lord's feet was the snake Nagini: the last horcrux. He knew as he observed their surroundings, that if he were to bring up his wand, he would be felled by the many death eaters that circled them. They all had their wands aimed at Harry and Hermione.

The dark lord took a few steps towards them, studying him intently, watching for any sudden movements to see if the boy had a plan. When he saw no evidence of one, he began to laugh, a cold, cruel, mirthless cackle, encouraging his minions to join him.

Dumbledore's golden boy had nothing. He had been defeated.

Harry could feel Hermione trembling, so he gave her a reassuring squeeze through their hands, rubbing the ball of his thumb on her knuckles. The pair waited for Voldemort to speak and the inevitable end.

"Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived," he purred, enjoying his moment of victory.

Voldemort's cruel face began to contort into what could loosely be described as a smile. His eyes darted to the girl stood next to Potter, and he basked in the absolute terror betrayed in her eyes.

"And it would seem he has brought his Mudblood to die with him!" The dark lord laughed, twirling the Elder wand in his hand.

Harry's heart was pounding at this point. His hand tightened on Hermione's in order to disguise the intense shaking which racked his body, which squeezed in return. They both knew that it would be over soon. Voldemort wouldn't chance letting them live, not after the last few times he had underestimated them.

Harry was surprised as his mind was overcome with a feeling of relief. It would soon be over. His brutal life and his war would end here, and he would finally be at peace with his family and Hermione. As they waited, he remembered Dumbledore's words:

"To the well prepared mind, death is but the next big adventure…"

As they waited, Voldemort's wand came up and he smirked at him. Harry was certain as he met the dark lord's gaze that he was staring into the face of pure evil.

"Goodbye, Harry Potter."

Harry saw Voldemort's lips move and saw the tell-tale green spell erupt from his wand and begin its journey. Closing his eyes, breathing a sigh, he squeezed Hermione's hand one last time before he felt it hit.

Harry Potter knew no more.

And there we are! The rewritten Chapter One.

What did you think? Did you like it? Please let me know by leaving a review!

Keep pushing on and read the next two chapters!

This is the Quill, signing off!