A/N: Full Summary: Au. No magic. Timeline moved forward ten years (takes place in 2007). Somewhat dark. Harry Potter is just a boy whose parents were murdered when he was one year old by the ruthless killer Voldemort. After being recruited by an old secret service agent named Dumbledore at age 11, he was admitted to the finest school of military tactics and soldiering for 11-17 year olds. Now, at age 17, he believes he is ready to pay back the man that sowed his fate when Harry was just one year old. And how is he going to do it? Why, with a shotgun blast to the face of course.

Warnings: Crude language. Character death. Very descriptive blood, guts, and gore. If you are easily grossed out by blood and/or wounds, this story is not for you.

Disclaimer: If Harry Potter was mine, he would've ended up with Hermione. Enough said.

Harry Potter and the Final Stand

Chapter 1 – The Beginning of the End

Harry Potter was sitting at his desk, staring out of his window on a dreary July night. Rain pattered a steady rhythm on the glass and the sky roared as streaks of lightning tore through it. Each flash illuminated the street, which was empty but for Harry's neighbor's cars. Harry's car was down there, too. A Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano, to be exact. An expensive car for anybody let alone a 17-year-old. A 17-year-old who hadn't even applied for one job in his entire life. He remembered how he had got the money needed to purchase his sports car. He and a friend had robbed a bank without the bank even knowing it at the time. When you're a minor without a guardian, you had to do whatever it took to stay alive—or in Harry's case, purchase luxury items. Harry sighed as he glanced at the clock, which read 1:10 A.M.

He had been 17 for an hour and ten minutes already, yet he didn't feel the tiniest bit of joy. Another year had gone by without the criminal lord of all of Great Britain, Voldemort, being caught. Voldemort, the man who had killed his parents and countless others, was still at large. The man had also tried to kill Harry—more than once, in fact—and Harry still had yet to repay the favor.

Harry's parents were members of the same group that Harry was in now: The Order of the Phoenix. His parents had killed Voldemort's favorite lieutenant, Rodolphus Lestrange, and Voldemort had wanted revenge. Voldemort himself had led the raid on Harry's house on Halloween night 1991, bringing his best Death Eaters with him to wipe out the Potters. James took out two before being overwhelmed by sheer numbers and Lily had covered the stairs and took out 8 before a lobbed grenade had ended her life. Lily had been somewhat of a genius, and her son was wearing the new bulletproof vest that she had invented. And the bulletproof vest had done its job: Harry had only been knocked out by a point blank shotgun blast to the chest. Voldemort had assumed the baby was dead when it had stopped crying—a mistake that was the worst he ever made.

Harry Potter was now the leader of his squad, Elite Squad. As the name suggested, it was made up of the best of the best from Hogwarts Academy. The full name of the school was Hogwarts Academy of Assassination and Warfare, but for security reasons it was known as Hogwarts Academy to the public and enrollment could occur through invitation only. Dumbledore himself had rescued Harry from the streets, as his only known relatives, the Dursleys, had moved away several years before Harry was born. So Harry was taught how to kill, gather intelligence, and use almost every weapon known to man. To make a profit to buy weapons and vehicles and other necessaries, Hogwarts contracted their students to perform jobs for clients—real-life experience.

At the end of his first year, Harry was performing an intelligence-gathering job, which was standard for an eleven-year-old, when the microphone under his shirt had experienced feedback. Unfortunately for Harry, one of the men he was speaking to and gathering intelligence from was a member of Voldemort's notorious gang: the Death Eaters. Harry had had to whip out the thick chain concealed in his sweater pocket and knock them out before fleeing.

In his second year, Harry infiltrated the pub known as the Chamber of Secrets, where one of Voldemort's lackeys, a man who Harry only knew as Avery, had taken a girl hostage. The Chamber of Secrets was in Hogsmeade Village, which was a mile from Hogwarts (not that the Death Eaters knew that), and nobody knew that Ginny Weasley, the girl who had been taken hostage and the sister of Harry's best friend, Ron Weasley, but Harry and Ron. The faculty had holed themselves in the faculty room and had been debating what to do all day when Harry and Ron knocked on the door. Professor McGonagall what not listen to what they had to say and told them to leave, so Harry and Ron had gone down to the Chamber of Secrets by their selves. That was the first time Harry had killed a man. Ron had chickened out and pissed his pants, but Harry stayed strong and blown Avery's head off with a Magnum .357 caliber, Harry's favorite gun.

And so the pattern continued. Third year marked the rescue of Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, from Azkaban prison. In his fourth year, Harry had competed in the Assassination Games, a brutal tournament that tested the bravery and adaptability of the contestants. Voldemort had somehow discovered where the third event was taking place and had killed one contestant, Cedric Diggory. Harry himself had barely escaped with his life.

Harry's fifth year was his worst. He had received a ransom letter from Voldemort stating that he had captured Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, and would let Sirius go if Harry would trade his life for his godfather's. Harry made the mistake of telling Headmaster Dumbledore, who led the Order of the Phoenix to the government building that the hostage situation was taking place. Voldemort did indeed have Sirius, and killed him as soon as he saw the Order converging on the building.

Harry's sixth year was pretty uneventful, minus the failed assassination attempt on Dumbledore's life. Dumbledore had been mysteriously absent all year, going on recon jobs. All of the students and faculty knew that if Dumbledore was doing recon then the situation had to be pretty serious. He had been hospitalized after being shot in the leg—he had rolled on the ground to avoid the fire coming his way, and the bullet meant for his midsection had obliterated his shin-bone.

So here Harry was now, at number 12 Grimmauld Place, watching the sky empty itself on the world below while he cleaned his Magnum. It was a comfort thing, and Harry often did it while thinking. Tonight he was thinking about how he would kill Voldemort by the end of this year or die trying. No matter what, Voldemort's reign of terror would be over within 11 months. A particularly loud peal of thunder caused Harry to drop his gun on his desk, and he took a second to swear before picking it up and examining the surface for scratches.

"Harry?" asked the room's other occupant blearily.

Harry turned around and smiled at the young woman he was renting the single-room apartment with. His partner in crime, literally—she was the one who had helped him rob the bank—Hermione Granger was Harry's best friend and the woman he was secretly in love with. She was the Elite Squad's sniper, which was impressive considering the fact that she hadn't started at Hogwarts until fourth year. She was also the top of every class, and was even smarter than Lily Potter had been. The day he met her was the first day of his life—how could his previous existence be called living without this feisty brunette in it?

***Flashback***

13-year-old Harry Potter crept inside the gun store at 2:45 in the morning. Dumbledore had told him that he needed protection this summer—he needed a gun for his own. Unfortunately, Sirius Black was a prison escapee and Harry was a minor, so the only possibility was to gain possession of a firearm illegally. Harry grabbed a Magnum .357, the first gun he had learned how to fire at Hogwarts, grabbed some ammunition, and made a dash for the exit. He barreled down an aisle turned the corner, and ran straight into somebody and fell to the floor. Fearing it was the police, Harry automatically raised the gun towards knee height in order to incapacitate the officer, but a high-pitched voice cried, "Don't shoot!"

Harry looked up to see a girl his age getting up. All of Harry's thoughts and worries fled his mind as he beheld the beauty in front of him. She was the same height as Harry and had a mane of bushy brown hair. But what really caught Harry's eye was the keen spark of intelligence in the girl's own wide eyes. "Please, I won't tell anybody!" she said, trembling from head to toe.

Harry pointed the gun down and said, "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. What are you doing here?"

The girl, now with the knowledge that she wasn't going to be shot, huffed, "Well, if you must know, I'm stealing a gun."

Harry had to suppress a snort. "Do you even know how to use one?"

The girl bit her lip. "Well…no, but it can't be too hard, can it? Just point and pull the trigger," she said matter-of-factly.

"In theory, that is true, but it really is much harder than it looks. You'll probably end up hurting yourself," Harry said sincerely. "Why do you want a gun, anyway?"

"My parents were killed by a gang a few months ago and I want protection and vengeance," she said. "Why do you want a gun?"

Harry sighed and quickly said, "Same thing, but my parents were killed when I was one. But we really don't have time for this, the police—"

A blaring siren cut Harry off and the girl shrieked. Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her with him to the back of the store, where he shot the window, pulled off his shirt, and used it to clear the glass out of the frame. The girl jumped out of the window and Harry followed suit, moving quickly away from the sounds of the police searching the aisles of the store. There was no breath to waste for talking and they were just hopping over a fence when a gunshot split the night air. The girl cried out and fell from where she was about to hop down from the top, and when Harry rolled her over, she was clutching her right hip and her face was twisted in a grimace of pain. Harry quickly scooped her up—he couldn't just leave her—and continued running as the girl passed out from pain in his arms.

***End Flashback***

"I'm fine, Hermione. Just cleaning my gun," he said as if that explained everything (which it did—they knew each other too well).

Hermione sat up and rubbed her eyes as she softly said, "Come on, Harry. Back to bed. We have a big day tomorrow." She glanced at the clock and a hint of a smile crossed her face. "Or should I say later today. Happy birthday."

Harry smiled for the first time and crawled into his twin bed, laying on his side and facing Hermione, who was on the other side of the bedroom. They laid in silence for a while, both just looking at each other with small smiles on their faces. Tomorrow they would be going on a road trip up the coast in Hermione's truck, a Ford F-250. A whole month of rest and relaxation with just the two of them. They slowly drifted off to the comforting world of sleep, snuggled up to ward off the trials and suffering that they did not know were to come.

A/N: So, I know it was just a background info chapter, but please let me know what you think in a review! I love them so much!

(And expect the next chapter to pick the story and action up a little!)