Well, my first one-shot fiction seemed to be good, so today, I told myself to make another one. Here it is, and finally this one doesn’t have such a sad ending. Unfortunately, I say it isn’t as good as my story How Could You, just because the plot in that one was more interesting. Please review right after you read the story, because I’m not sure if I might just delete this story. It’s up to the readers, here! Thanks!

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I just made up the plot. Parts of this are about the final battle, which J.K. Rowling created herself! Thanks again!

“Okay, so Hermione,” said Harry. “You’re going to have to run into the room and cause a huge disruption. Does anyone want to help?” Harry looked around at the other D.A. members. Fred and George immediately raised their hands.

“We’ll do it,” said Fred.

“Let Hermione do something else,” said George. “This a more of a two-man job, if you know what I mean. Actually, Lee will come with us, so make that a three-man job.” Harry grinned, but his grin faltered into a grimace as his scar gave another sear of pain. The final battle was indeed approaching…closer and closer every second.

“Okay, then. Fred, George, you two run into the room and cause a huge outburst of…whatever you two have planned,” said Harry. Then he turned to Hermione.

“Hermione, I need you along with…” Harry looked around the room, and spotted Ron, Dean, and Luna. “Ron, Dean, and Luna, you along with Hermione are going to shoot that D.A. mark I taught you. Shoot it up in the sky when you know when the fight has started.” They nodded, and immediately made sure they could do it on their first try. Harry nodded.

“Katie, I need you to go with Angelina, Neville, Cho, Alicia, Colin, and Dennis Creevey. Once you see the symbol in the air, you can charge into the…what ever room Voldemort is in, and start fighting. Got that?” They nodded.

“Ernie, Justin, I need you to go and inform the aurors at the Ministry about the plan once we go off into our places. Tell them to go to…where the symbol of the D.A. shoots up into the sky, alright?” They nodded.

“Oh yeah, and the people who actually shoot the D.A. sign up in the air,” Harry remembered. “Be sure to shoot it several miles away from each other, okay?” They nodded.

“Lavender, Parvati, Padma, Michael, Terry, and Hannah, I need all of you to fight the Death Eaters who are going to be running around Voldemort’s hideout, okay?” They nodded. Harry’s scar seared again. The fight was starting too soon to be true.

“Smith, Anthony, and…” Harry thought about, then, “Ginny, and need you guys to be running around the battle zone, apparating injured people to St. Mungo’s.”

“What?!?” Ginny yelled suddenly.

“Ginny, you heard me. I’ll be in the fight with the others who run into Voldemort’s HQ and fight. When…” Ginny interrupted again.

“But I want to fight, Harry!”

“Ginny, shut up, I don’t have time for this. Everyone, when you see Voldemort and me fighting, no one, I repeat, NO ONE try and fight him with me. I’ll need to end it myself.”

“Your out of your mind.”

“We should fight him together.”

“We can beat him with teamwork.”

“ENOUGH!” yelled Harry, his scar searing again. “I will fight him ON MY OWN, do you understand me?” The members of the D.A. nodded reluctantly. “Good.”

“I hate you, Harry Potter!” screamed Ginny, and ran out the room.

“Ginny, wait, WAIT!” Harry yelled, but she was already up in her room. (By the way, the D.A. is at Number 12, just in case you didn’t know…okay, I’m pretty sure you didn’t know.)

“Hermione, make sure everyone knows what they need to do, alright?” Harry said quickly as he ran out the room after Ginny. Hermione nodded, looking worried.

Harry found Ginny in her room with a rope hanging out her window, making sure it could support her own weight.

“Ginny, what the hell are you doing?” Harry cried.

“I’m leaving this mess, Harry Potter!” Ginny yelled back. “I don’t want to be in this fight anymore, and I don’t want to be near you!”

“Oh, and you think I’m going out to fight for my own enjoyment?!?” Harry yelled.

“How could you not put me in with the people fighting?” Ginny screamed. “I CAN FIGHT JUST AS WELL AS THEY CAN!”





“YES!” Ginny was shocked. Harry had just agreed that he was not putting her in the fight to protect her. They had broken up. Why was he caring about her so much at a time like this?

“Ginny, I don’t want you dead,” said Harry in a low voice. “This fight isn’t going to be rescheduled or something…it’s coming whether we want it to or not.” Harry’s scar burned once again. He could almost see Voldemort’s face now.

“Why did you end us?” Tears were in Ginny’s eyes.

“I ended us…to protect us.”

“What do you mean by ‘protect us’?”

“I don’t want to be thinking about you for the whole entire fight. I need to focus, or then I’ll do something stupid and kill myself.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“Yeah, well, that was a different time. We’re here in the present, whether we want to be here or not.” They were silent, and Harry could hear the D.A. getting ready to leave Number 12. He would be down there joining them.

“Harry,” Ginny whispered. “Do you love me…or not?”

“Gin…this isn’t the time.”

“Name a better time then now? You’re about to run into a battle, and have a great chance of dying. I don’t think we’re about to have a better time than now.”

“Fine,” said Harry, frustrated. Voldemort’s anger was rushing into him, eating Harry away.

Then it hit him. This had been Voldemort’s plan all along…to drive Harry mad. And Voldemort was going to use his own anger to drive Harry mad. There was no hope…Voldemort had won.

“I don’t,” Harry felt himself say. “And I won’t ever.” Voldemort’s anger was overpowering him. Harry couldn’t feel himself. He had lost control.

“Harry?” Ginny whispered, tears running down her cheeks. Harry tried to answer, but no words came out. He took out his wand.

“Harry, what are you doing?” Ginny was freaking out. “Harry, wait, STOP!”

Harry’s mouth was forming the words. Voldemort was planning on making Harry murder Ginny, and that would leave Harry no choice but to fight it. There was nothing else he could do. This was what Voldemort had wanted Harry to do all along. “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

The battle was over. Lord Voldemort had won, and he didn’t even need to touch Harry. The D.A. had had the worst luck they could have possibly gotten. Fred, George, and Lee’s plan had failed miserably, leaving them all dead.

Neville, who had just barely survived, was now in St. Mungo’s, was just like his parents. Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured him with the Cruciartis curse, leaving him just like his parents.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were the only one’s to make it out alive. Everyone else was either dead…or near death.

Harry Potter had died, having pointed his wand at himself at the last second, who was what Voldemort had wanted the whole time. Ginny had watched Harry fall to the floor, and she then knew there was no hope. Harry had died to save her, but she was the only one he had managed to save.

Lord Voldemort was ruling, making Hogwarts a school for purebloods, and purebloods only. Any muggle borns would be killed, or enslaved. That put Hermione at risk.

“So…I guess this is it,” said Ron miserably. “We’ve lost. Hermione was killed last night, so we’re on our own.” Ginny nodded. Dementors were coming to pick them up and bring them to Azkaban the next day, leaving no hope.

“No point trying to fight…” said Ginny. She didn’t know how she felt. She didn’t have any emotions at all. Harry was dead, the battle had been lost, and Voldemort was ruling. The only thing they could hope for was for Voldemort to just die off…but the chances of that happening were slim to none.

Harry Potter had been buried with his parents, at Godric’s Hollow. There had been no funeral; no one would have been able to come. Ginny had been the only one to visit the grave. Everyone else thought it was cursed. She had sobbed for him, blaming the whole thing on herself. If she had only not been so stupid, to just agree with what Harry was saying.

But no, life was over, and no one would be able to fix it…at least not anytime soon…


Harry Potter found himself on the ground on the lot of Number 4, Privet Drive. Not having a clue how he had gotten there, he went up to the house. He saw his reflection in the window…he was still his seventeen year old self.

Harry decided he would go into the house and ask how and why he had come back from the dead. (as if they’d know.)

But hold on…Harry Potter had died, yet was standing right here, at night, on the doorstep of Number 4, Privet Drive. This was impossible. Maybe I’m a ghost, thought Harry. When he looked down to see if he was floating, he saw a small bundle on the ground. He picked it up, and it appeared to be a baby.

Harry nearly dropped the baby. The infant had a scar on its forehead, but like the one Harry had. Could this baby possibly be…him?

But no, how could this be? He, Harry Potter, was right here, holding what seemed to be himself.

“Ah, so you’ve found yourself, if I’m correct,” said a very familiar voice behind Harry. Harry jumped, and almost dropped himself, no, the infant, again.

“Dumbledore?” Harry asked, seeing the familiar half moon spectacles.

“You can’t imagine how glad I am to know you didn’t forget me,” said Dumbledore, smiling.

“But wait,” said Harry, thoroughly confused. “I thought you, I mean we were dead.”

“Yes, that’s what everyone thinks,” said Dumbledore. “Strange how life works, I must say.”

“Then how are we here?”

“I think it’ll be more fun if we just watch this whole thing,” said Dumbledore. “Now I suggest you put…yourself back where you found you.”

“Err…right.” This was going to take some time to get used to. He put…little Potter back down on the doorstep, and as soon as he did, the door opened, and Aunt Petunia came out.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Harry. Aunt Petunia didn’t seem to hear him.

“Wait a moment…we’re in some kind of memory, aren’t we?” Harry asked Dumbledore. The old wizard smiled.

“I must say, you caught on very quickly.”

“So am I just going to watch my whole entire life?”

“Oh, that might take a bit long, wouldn’t it?” said Dumbledore. “Why don’t we skip what I like to call, the boring parts.” As soon as Dumbledore said that, the scenery changed around them. Harry was standing in a chamber, right next to his eleven-year-old self.

“What the…” Harry recognized where they were, and knew exactly what was coming.

“Year one, when you fought Voldemort…tack one up for you,” said Dumbledore, fast forwarding the fight. Harry watched as the eleven-year-old him fought off Voldemort with the protection his mother had left him.

“Ready for your next adventure?” asked Dumbledore as though asking if Harry was ready to leave a store and go home. Harry shrugged.

“Why are we doing this?”

“Oh, I thought you would like to see how you’ve grown each year, wouldn’t you agree?” Harry shrugged again.

“Year two, here we go!”

And so Harry watched as he saw himself destroy his first horcrux. It looked bad, watching himself fight the basilisk, and get bitten by one of the poisonous fangs.

Third year, when he fought off the Dementors and saved his Godfather, Sirius Black. Again, it looked much worse by watching from the sidelines than actually fighting in it.

Fourth year, where Harry watched himself battle a dragon, save two people from the underwater monsters, and stumble through the maze. Harry saw himself battle Voldemort, and while watching, he thought of how he had let everyone down in the final battle. He wondered what Voldemort was doing to everyone, since Harry there.

Fifth year, when Harry, along with Ron, Hermione, Luna, Ginny, and Neville fought Death Eaters, desperately trying to escape from the Department of Mysteries. Harry (the present one) cried out when Sirius Black died. He watched as Dumbledore fought Voldemort, and managed to win.

“Okay, I believe the score is four to zip, if I’m not mistaken,” said Dumbledore as though he was simply talking about a baseball game. Harry grinned.

Sixth year, (each time something new came, there was a flash, and Harry and Dumbledore found themselves somewhere else.) Harry saw himself as Ginny ran into Harry after the Quidditch cup to hug him. They kissed, and a ping went through Harry. He understood now. He and Ginny were meant to be together, whatever the cost, and Harry ending it had been a huge mistake. Now it was over, and all Harry could do was watch himself mess up his life.

Harry watched as Dumbledore and him went the cave and got the fake horcrux. They then quickly went back to Hogwarts, and Harry watched as Dumbledore died. Dumbledore watched interestedly.

“So that’s how I looked when I died,” said Dumbledore. “Interesting.” Harry laughed again.

And then they were brought to Harry’s what should have been seventh year. He hadn’t attended Hogwarts that year, for he was with Ron and Hermione hunting down Horcruxes. Harry watched himself destroy horcruxes, finally ending on killing Nagini.

Then Harry saw himself run after Ginny. He watched as he saw himself become controlled by Lord Voldemort’s anger. His wand was about to point at himself until…


“Harry?” Ginny whispered. Harry got up from Ginny’s floor, but he knew immediately what happened. When he watched himself point his wand at his face, he had instinctively whipped out his own wand and sent it flying. (Okay, I know that all must be confusing, so all in all, 23 year old Harry cursed 17 year old Harry’s wand away, so he didn’t die. Yay!)

“Are you alright?” Ginny asked. Harry looked at her.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Harry, and kissed her. At first she hesitated, but then returned the kiss.

“What happened to being noble?” asked Ginny against Harry’s lips. Harry grinned.

“I can’t enter a fight without love. I know we may not live to see tomorrow, but I know that charging into a war not loving someone is…just wrong. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Dumbledore, invisible to both Harry and Ginny, smiled.

“And that’s exactly why I gave Harry another chance,” Dumbledore said to himself.
Hours Later…

Voldemort fell to the ground, and the survivors of the battle cheered, running at Harry. Harry was nearly tackled by Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Dean, Fred, George, and a few other survivors.

“You did it, Harry!” Ron yelled. “You beat him!”

“Nah, we beat him.” The battle was over, and Harry had been granted a second chance to shine. All was well.

A/N: And there you have it! I’m sorry if it disappointed anyone who read this…again, I liked my one-shot fiction How Could You much better. Please review ASAP, and if you think I should do a sequel, then I will be sure to! Thanks once again, and happy future reading!

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