The Lightsaber
By: Tellemicus Sundance
#26: War's End

Black Lake
April 9, 1996

Harry was exhausted. There was no other way to put it. His fights with the Auror army and the sorcerous Specters had worn him down tremendously. It was a mistake he'd made in his self-training over the months since his exile from the Magical World and something that he hadn't truly realized until now. He had put all of his time and effort in his training on learning new types of magic, connecting with ambient magical energies of the world, and generally just expanding his knowledge base. But he had utterly failed to put any emphasis on his physical capabilities, most specifically his endurance, which also had a major impact on his magical potential. He knew that magic was like a muscle; the more one used it, the stronger it became. Because his natural reservoir of potential and power were quite monstrously high, even before he became a Sorcerer, he had never felt any need to learn how to endure in a prolonged fight. His new powers were so vast that he did not think anyone would be able to even touch him, leading him to not even bother exerting the effort in training his endurance in any way. Now he was just running on fumes, using up as much magic almost as quickly he was gaining it.

Admittedly, this shouldn't have been that big of a problem. Voldemort was still just a Wizard with a very finite pool of magic to use, even if he had far better control and endurance than Harry. Though, as Harry fell to one knee, heaving for breath and drawing in what little vestiges of magic he could reach, he suddenly found that his enemy was far more resourceful than he had initially thought. The power buildup that was filling Voldemort's wandtip was more than enough to prove this. Harry could feel what was happening and he was simultaneously utterly disgusted and shamefully impressed by what he saw happening.

Glancing over towards the remnants of the three armies that had gathered upon the grassy hills of the Hogwarts grounds, Harry watched as the Death Eaters and more than a few Aurors and Ministry officials suddenly began collapsing to the ground unconscious, utterly drained of all their magic and energies. Returning his gaze back to Voldemort, he said, "Stealing the magic of your underlings to empower yourself? Let me guess, it's the Dark Mark that you insist on all of them being imprinted with acting as the conduit."

"Clever boy," Voldemort complimented, chuckling as he felt himself swelling with the influx of power.

"Even with those meager amounts of power, you must know that you still aren't strong enough to overpower me," Harry bluffed, trying to pretend that he wasn't as tired as he really was. Despite that, he frowned as he wondered just what the Dark Lord was up to. "So what happens now?"

"Yes," Voldemort said, nodding with a sneer as he gazed as his kneeling opponent. "You may be magically stronger than me, but you are also exhausted."

Taking the last lingering strands of magic that he could grasp, Voldemort swept his wand down and began waving it in highly intricate patterns, chanting in ancient Latin. Harry just watched as Voldemort cast his spell, creating a void just in front of them. The void itself was just under an arm's length in size, and was a dark hole that seemed to suck in all light into its depths. It was a dead zone that Harry couldn't sense anything from. Then, just as his chanting began reaching a fever pitch, Voldemort suddenly thrust his arm into the void. After a long moment, he extracted his arm…and a black, intricately crafted longsword of ancient design. The sword gave off an aura that was every bit as foul and pungent as the Demon had been, seeming to consume and corrupt the very land, water, and air around it.

"Behold the Sword of Medrod!" Hefting up the black blade as the void he'd summoned it from vanished, Voldemort held the weapon over his head triumphantly before leveling it at Harry. "It is only fitting that you die on the very blade that killed Merlin himself."

Harry took a long moment to stare at the sword held before him. It strongly reminded him of the classical version of a Viking sword. The blade was long, but with a single handed hilt and a large pommel just underneath. And although there was a gold and gems inlaid in the hilt and pommel for decoration, the blade itself was what truly captured his attention. It was so black that it seemed as though the void it had come from had also formed the deadly blade instead of just simple metal. He could feel an aura of death and decay emitting from that black void of a sword blade. It was an oppressive feeling, bearing down on him with the weight of all his failures, fears, and doubts, not unlike a Dementor's aura. Holding up his lightsaber in a defensive stance, Harry took a slow breath, letting the energy of his blade soothe his fears and strengthen his resolve.

Seeing Harry preparing himself, Voldemort swept the Sword of Medrod downward towards his enemy. Sensing the onrushing energies of destruction and death, Harry leapt to the side frantically. He just barely managed to clear the area when the deadly magic struck where he had been. A long arcing beam of dark magic sliced through the air, ice, and rocky cliffs far behind Harry as it shot through the space where he had been. Harry glanced behind him just in time to witness a small explosion from within the cliff, just underneath Hogwarts itself. Turning back to face Voldemort, he grimaced at seeing Voldemort's wide and arrogant sneer. Yet, at the same time, Harry felt something interesting happening. Looking closely at the Dark Lord, he blinked slightly as watched a strange scale-like pattern started emerging on the man's skin. Before his eyes, he could see that pattern rapidly solidifying into actual scales all across his body.

"And that is just a tiny fraction of the power that the Sword of Medrod possesses!" Voldemort declared triumphantly, not at all noticing what was happening to his body. "Are you scared yet?"

"It…is…impressive," Harry grudgingly admitted, switching his gaze back to the sword momentarily. "But I find it more interesting that you needed to steal so much power in order to just summon it."

"It's not that surprising, boy," Voldemort countered, a frown now replacing his sneer as he too gazed at the sword he held. "Wizards possessed much higher levels of power and had a much vaster array of knowledge in magic back in those days. Compared to the standards of the time, even Dumbledore and myself barely rank as average."

"…I wonder about that," Harry muttered, frowning. He was not at all sure that any of what Voldemort just said was true. But, in the end, it didn't matter. What did matter was what was happening to the Dark Lord. How could the man not notice? The magic of the sword was warping his body and magic the longer he held it. 'He wants to use a sword of power and renown to kill his greatest adversary before he takes control of the nation. He's trying to mimic the legends of old to make himself into one. How…ironic.'

"Would you like to see what else it can do?" Voldemort asked, his sneer immediately returning.

Without even waiting for a reply, Voldemort began laughing loudly as he floated up several meters in the air and swept the sword back before slashing it forward. Fireballs, small meteorites, and even a few bolts of lightning suddenly materialized and came raining down on Harry, forcing the boy to dance backwards and zigzag as he dodged what he could and deflected the rest with his weapon and magic. The iceberg below him was pummeled, and it cracked and fractured into many tiny pieces during the attack. Seeing what was happening, Harry jumped as high as he could while waving his wand and froze the entirety of the lake's surface. Landing in an awkward slide, he dug his lightsaber tip into the ice to slow himself, leaving a sizzling gash in the ice ahead of him. Throughout all of this, Voldemort had been laughing at him as though he was watching the most amusing sight he'd ever witnessed before.

"You cannot stop me!" Voldemort declared cockily. Looking back upwards, Harry found Voldemort still floating above the ice, but this time he was within a transparent dome of red energy. Harry didn't need his Sorcery to know that that dome was of incredibly potent defensive magic, easily outshining the best shield charms. Then he watched as two metallic spheres materialized in front of Voldemort, glowing and sparking with electrical energy.

"Now, it is time for me to purify this world!" The two spheres floated forward slightly, their electrical glow intensifying as power began to build up. "And I'll start with you!" Twin bolts of golden lightning shot forward as he finished. Harry stuffed his wand into his belt as he held up his lightsaber. He was momentarily able to catch both bolts on the plasma blade before bringing up his free hand to grapple with the second lightning bolt. Thanks to his experience with electrical and lightning attacks, Harry was easily able to negate and dissipate the energy harmlessly on his naked palm. Once done, he looked up at Voldemort's furious face with a small smirk. Then he reached out his free hand and telekinetically crushed the two spheres into dust.

Snorting disinterestedly at Harry's minor triumph, after a brief moment to recompose himself, Voldemort's sneer returned full force. Raising the sword again, he held it out to the side. A brilliantly glowing disc of sickly green and yellow energy formed over the black sword, casting the Dark Lord's visage in a sinister green that only highlighted the spreading and hardening scales he now bore all across his body. From that large glowing disc, Harry could sense potent Dark Cutting and Fire magics within it. That was a spell meant to slice enemies into pieces while inflicting horrendous agony, he realized. Swinging the sword forward, he launched the large disc towards the young Sorcerer. Then he swung the sword back again, sending a small jolt of magic into the disc and causing it shatter into four identical but smaller discs as the original. All of which were now rushing towards Harry at easily three times the original speed.

Launching himself to the side, Harry started skating along the surface of the ice, swerving to the side as the discs swung around and rushed at him from the side. He ducked under one, skidded to a halt to dodge the second, jumped lightly over the third, and intercepted the fourth with his lightsaber. Though the disc was destroyed, the momentum of the impact still sent him his sliding uncontrollably backwards through the ice and across the ice when he landed. Looking around, he watched and sensed as the three remaining discs circled him. Suddenly, guided by Voldemort's desires, all of them swept forward all at once, trying to strike him simultaneously. Harry's head spun as he frantically looked for an escape route but found none. Then, just as they were almost on him, he acted on instinct and leapt up as high as he could manage. It worked out much better than he'd dared hope, with all of the discs slamming into one another and destroying each other.

Landing somewhat awkwardly back on the ice, Harry let out a breath of relief. 'That was far too close!'

Sensing a massive burst of magic, Harry spun to face Voldemort and froze, his mouth dropping slightly in shock and more than a little fear. Held suspended in the air over his head and the sword, Voldemort had a monstrously large orb of pulsating black magic. It was so large, it must've been the size of a small muggle helicopter. However, unlike the void that seemed to corrupt everything and led to somewhere else, he could clearly sense the magic inside that orb. It contained massive amounts of Death, Fire, Agony, Destruction, and Blasting magic. In his mind, Harry couldn't help comparing it to being the nuclear bomb of all Dark Magic spells. 'I can't stop that! Not with how weak I am right now!'

Chuckling loudly over the pulsating waves that his bomb was making in the air, Voldemort sneered in complete confidence and triumph. "Yes, you know what this is, don't you, boy?! Try to dodge this, and it'll destroy everything within a league's distance of this spot! Try to block it, and it'll only focus its energy on you! No matter what happens now, you die! The only question you have to ask yourself is: how many are you willing to let die along with you?!"

Harry could only frown, looking down at his feet. There was no question to ask, he already knew his answer. Deactivating his lightsaber, he stuffed it into his belt, next to his wand. Holding up his hands out to his sides, he closed his eyes in concentration, drawing in magic and sending it through his arms and hands. 'This is going to really hurt, but… I have no choice.'

Seeing his enemy bringing his hands up in an obvious preparatory gesture to catch the orb, Voldemort hissed in anger and threw the bomb, trying to not give the boy enough time to properly set himself. Harry just held his ground as the deadly spell rushed at him like an out-of-control locomotive. Just as the spell as almost on him, he thrust his arms up and caught it on his bare palms. Gritting his teeth, he fought against yelling out in pain as the dangerous dark magics instantly started burning and blistering his hands. But that pain was only secondary to the immense weight of the spell, slamming into him, causing his arms to start buckling under its incredible mass, faltering his footing and sending him to one knee. Underneath his feet, he could feel the thick layer of ice starting to crack and fracture.

Straining with all his remaining might, Harry started pushing back. 'I won't let it explode! I won't let it happen! I can't! Too many people will die!' Crying out, he heaved again, fighting to push it away. Little by little, inch by agonizing inch, it started to rise, even as cold lake waters started breaking through the cracks below.

Above him, Voldemort's eyes narrowed dangerously as he saw his most powerful and dangerous spell freeze in place momentarily. The boy was stronger than he'd given him credit for, but no matter. Pointing the sword at his spell, he channeled his magic into it. "You don't know when to give up!" he cried out, sending a large blast of pure magic out of the swordtip and into the Dark spell, greatly boosting its already massive power. With the sudden and unexpected boost, the spell immediately overwhelmed Harry's staggered rise, slamming into him bodily as it sent him crashing down into and through the ice. All Harry could do in response was frantically wrap a protective cocoon of Protego magic around himself as the inevitable happened.

The orb was actually half submerged into the shattered ice and cold lake water when it finally combusted, lighting up the area in a blinding flash of pure Destructive magical might. The effect was similar but much weaker in comparison to the Demon's earlier destruction high up in air overhead. The explosion lasted for nearly twenty seconds, but it was positively blinding and deafening. Once its power had run out and the magic began to fade, Voldemort turned back to see his handiwork. All that greeted him was the convulsing surface of the lake with a few scattered icebergs within.

'Did he survive?' he wondered. He couldn't see the boy anywhere, but that didn't necessarily mean that he was alive or dead. Frowning, he decided to be cautious and waved the sword broadly over the surface, once again freezing the lake under a much thicker layer of ice. Now feeling quite a bit more confident, he threw back his head and started laughing triumphantly at his victory. Finally, he'd killed the brat! And now he could finish his conquest of Great Britain! Nothing and no one would be able to stand in his way anymore! It would finally all be his! "BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Suddenly, a blue bolt of burning energy shot from the shore and slammed into his shoulder. Crying out as the burning agony shot through his wound, Voldemort spun around and glared furiously at where the shot came from. It was easy to see who shot it, that short armored figure from earlier crouched down amongst the rubble of the castle. He quite literally had the smoking gun in his hand. If that wasn't enough of a clue, the boy shouted out, "I FINALLY HIT YA, YA BLACKHEARTED INBRED BASTARD!"

Voldemort hissed in fury, healing his wound with a wave of his wand. He didn't how or what that boy was. He was clearly using magical weapons to kill, but he used no known weapons that the Dark Lord was familiar with. He didn't use any spells or indeed any kind of conventional magic at all. It was almost as though he didn't have any magic at all. Either that or he was supremely confident in his unorthodox weapons. Once done with his wound, the Dark Lord shot forwards to remove that anomaly from the battlefield once and for all.

He was sinking. The cold water of the Black Lake was enveloping his senses, turning his body numb. Despite the cold, he actually somewhat enjoyed it since it was an almost soothing balm on his exhausted muscles and body. But just the same, it was also cutting him off from the air so his lungs were soon burning for fresh oxygen. But as much as he wanted to, Harry couldn't even find the strength to right himself and swim for the surface. It had taken all of his remaining power just to shield himself from the destructive powers of that black ball. He was running on empty now and had nothing left to give or use.

Was this how it was going to end for him? Drown in the lake just outside of the castle he loved and hated so much? If so, how ironic it was to drown in the middle of a battle, a war, that had so many differing sides and clashing players. He'd probably be go down in history as the only person in the present setting to do so. And the worst part, no matter how much he wanted otherwise, he couldn't do anything about it.

Reaching out with his senses, Harry could feel that the battle had once again shifted, back towards the castle. Voldemort was fighting against Dudley, of all people. Tonks, Magorian, Hendrick, and Ron were all preoccupied elsewhere, trying to fend off an army of furious ICW soldiers who were trying to seize control of the castle. 'I'm proud of you guys,' he thought morbidly. 'Even without me, you guys can fight on. You didn't need me to win this war. You never really did.' Looking off to the side, he gazed unseeingly into the watery darkness around him. 'I have truly lost my place from the Wizarding World. And I really don't have a place in the Muggle World either. Voldemort was right. I really don't have anything or anyone.'

'Then go out there and find somewhere and someone,' a strong elderly male voice suddenly said into his mind, causing Harry to blink in surprise. Then, before his eyes, he watched as a shining cluster of lights blinked into existence within an arm's reach away. 'Quit feeling sorry for yourself, kid. Go out there and finish what you started.'

'Who are you?' Harry asked, on guard but extremely curious.

'…A guide,' the voice answered.

'A guide for what?'

'For the path you've chosen to walk,' the voice said. 'I've been watching you since you first awakened to the world around you. You are unique in many ways, kid. You possess a truly remarkable connection and talent for magic and the energies of the world. And that is perhaps your greatest weakness and failing. Such as, why have you let this battle continue for so long?'

'I'm tired!' Harry snapped, feeling immediately defensive. 'He's taken the magic of his followers and is using magic that I don't know how to fight against. He's too strong for me now.'

'That's not why you're failing,' the voice countered knowingly. 'It is not your enemy you fear. It is not your exhaustion holding you back. It is not even your reluctance to kill. It is your fear of your own power.'

'What?' Harry asked, confused. 'What does that mean?!'

'You have neglected your training so much that it's no wonder your having so much trouble,' the voice said. 'You must train yourself under critical conditions in order to reach beyond your normal limitations. But you were born with power and never had to commit to anything because it was easy. And whenever something wasn't served on a silver platter, you looked to others to solve your problems for you.'

'Shut up!' Harry yelled furiously. 'You don't know anything about me and my life!'

'It's time you bit the bullet and started caring about something with all of your heart and energy, but you can't do that if you keep holding yourself back in fear of it not working out for you! Always relying on others to do the heavy lifting for you!'

'I DO CARE!' Harry roared back. 'WHY ELSE WOULD I BE FIGHTING NOW?!"

'If you truly felt that way, this battle would've been long over and your enemy dead.'

'I'VE BEEN TRYING!'

'Do or do not. There is no try.'

That statement immediately silenced Harry's rampaging thoughts and snuffed out his rage faster than the freezing water around him. Do or do not. Such a simple statement, and yet it sent many reverberating implications coursing through his mind in an instant. As so many conflicting thoughts and feelings swirled around within him, Harry could only softly ask, 'Who are you? Really?'

Silence answered him for several long moments. Then, finally, the voice returned, 'Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. Release your grip on your fears. Let your confidence fuel your body. Allow the forces of the world to fill you. Believe in yourself and you will find a way. Now get up there and end this conflict.' With that said, the floating lights faded from view and Harry knew that the voice had departed to whence it had come from.

It was at this same moment that he sensed the approach of several creatures from deeper below him. Looking down, Harry spotted several merpeople rising upwards from the watery depths. But upon them spotting him, they pulled up to a stop and gazed up at him. Through his senses, Harry could feel their confusion, their anger, and their fear. They didn't know what was happening upon the surface and they didn't like the many disturbances that had rocked their lake's surface and the magical currents around them.

One of the merpeople, a young maiden by the looks of her, raised one of her hands towards Harry. As she did, he could sense her own magic rising to the surface, gathering within the hand she was holding out towards him. But she did nothing more than merely holding it out towards him, her expression questioning, hesitant. He knew what she was doing, what she was doing. Lifting up his own, Harry looked at his hand, thinking, puzzling, trying to make a decision.

But his decision was cut short when he suddenly felt the burning in his lungs rising sharply, too much to be ignored any longer. Against his will, the air bubbles burst out of his mouth as he floundered in an instinctive attempt to grab the air and haul it back to him as they shot upwards. After a few moments as he was futilely trying to breathe underwater, a pair of arms suddnely grasped his and pulled him forwards. His lips met those of the mermaid, air being pushed from her into him. Sweet, delicious, live-giving air!

After he coughed out the water that had flooded his mouth and lungs, the mermaid leaned in again and blew yet more air into his mouth. Pulling back, revived and grateful, Harry smiled weakly at the mermaid, nodding in gratitude as she pulled away from him. Again, she lifted her hand, offering it to him. Looking at her hand again, he again held up his own hand, unsure if he should. He glanced upwards towards the iced over surface, in time to see a fiery explosion flash to life briefly and feeling a life be extinguished at the same instant. Returning his gaze on the mermaid, he made his decision.

Things had taken a truly unexpected turn up on the surface when a pair of jetfighters suddenly roared over the battlefield. The highspeed Muggle aircraft brought all fighting to a standstill as the Wizards and Witches saw something that left dire implications. The wards around Hogwarts had been destroyed when the Demon had crashed into the castle, pulling down the protections that had endured for centuries. And the Demon's following explosive death had been the guiding light to draw Muggle attention straight to the area. Since their military satellites had detected the explosion but could only classify it as nuclear, the military had been hastily mobilized and the Air Force scrambled to locate the epicenter of the supposed nuclear disaster.

Though he didn't quite understand all of that, the now-monstrous Voldemort understood enough to realize that the Wizarding World had been irresistibly exposed. His plans for a hostile takeover of the country, magical and muggle alike, had just been irreparably destroyed. Seeing his meticulously laid plans utterly destroyed like this was something that he very rarely ever had happen. But when it did, it would throw him into a blinding rage the likes of which tended to be quite lethal to ones involved.

This was the case for the two jetfighter pilots as he lashed out with his magic. Roaring in rage, he created a pair of the energy disc similar to what he'd made against Potter and lashed them out against the jetfighters. The discs flew off and impossibly slashed straight through the centers of the jetfighters' main bodies, neatly bisecting for a second before the jets' explosive fuels and missile warheads exploded in a spectacular fashion high overhead.

"FILTH MUGGLES!" he screamed. "YOU DARE TO DESECRATE THIS HOLIED GROUND?!"

"It's your fault, technically," the armored boy he'd been trying and failing to kill called out.

As Voldemort swung back towards him, he was forced to dodge backwards as he spotted the boy lunging through the air with a large hammer in hand, its large head glowing ominously with magical energies. The hammerhead hit the ground where the Dark Lord had been standing, sending out a pulse of magic that scattered all loose debris for several meters in all directions and shaking the ground momentarily. Hefting up his hammer, the boy held up the weapon in a defensive stance as Voldemort reflexively threw a Killing Curse at him. The curse struck the weapon, impacting with the glowing crystal it contained, which immediately faded as its power was destroyed, and throwing the hammer haphazardly out of the boy's grip. Even as Voldemort was casting a second Killing Curse, the boy had flung himself to the side as one of his hands flew to his belt and snatched one of those gun things he still carried.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN WIN AGAINST ME, BOY?!" Voldemort cried, swinging the Sword of Medrod and sending out a slicing slash. To the Dark Lord's growing frustration, the boy managed to duck under the magic as he held up his gun. Why was he having so much trouble killing this boy?! This wasn't like with Potter. This boy had no magic, no skills, nothing remarkable about him, and yet he was still managing to hold his own against the Dark Lord like the best of the Wizards he'd ever faced before. HOW?!

"Actually, no, I don't," the boy answered, a smile quite obviously pulling across his face underneath that annoying mask he wore. "I'm just buying time for the real hero to make his triumphant return."

"What?" was all Voldemort could say to that, even as yet more jetfighters suddenly flew by overhead. In the distance, a loud thumping sound could be heard as helicopters rapidly closed in.

But none of that mattered to Voldemort as a sudden and strong pulse of magic swept over him and the surrounding landscape. Turning towards where he could 'sense' this pulse coming from, he stared at the frozen lake as a strange blue light began shining up from its depths. It became so blindingly bright that the light engulfed the whole frozen surface. Then, with a burst of shattered ice and splashes of water, blazing figure positively glowing with power rose up into the air, shining like a small blue sun.

After a long moment, the figure floated forwards and set down on the rocky shore not too far from where Voldemort himself was standing, the blinding light dimming as it approached. By the time that the figure had set down, the glow had vanished fully and revealed the revitalized and empowered appearance of Harry Potter. His clothing was nearly completely gone, clad only in the tattered remains of his pants and his ever-faithful Centaur-iron pauldron over his shoulder, lightsaber hilt gripped in one hand, his eyes still glowing the same blazing blue as the power that had previously surrounded him.

"It's time to end this, Tom Marvolo Riddle," Harry said, his voice seemingly vibrating with the barely contained power he now wielded. Glancing over at his cousin, Harry smiled, "Thanks for stalling him, Dudley."

Smirking, Dudley threw him a sloppy salute with his pistol. "Anytime, Harry. It was fun while it was lasted."

Seeing his hated nemesis returned and seemingly stronger than ever before, Voldemort hissed in unfathomable rage. "Don't get overconfident, boy!" he snapped, his red eyes practically glowing in his rage. "Although diluted, the power of the Sword of Medrod is beyond that of which you can defeat!" With another powerful swing, Voldemort launched another destructive slash towards the young Sorcerer. Unlike last time, Harry didn't dodge the strike. Instead, he held up his lightsaber and slashed into the magic arc, slicing it in two and causing it to dissipate harmlessly.

As Voldemort floated there, staring in disbelief at Harry's sudden resistance, the boy held out a hand and formed a ball of glowing magical energy. After condensing it down into a sphere of crackling electrical shocks and wispy heat, he hurled the ball at the Dark Lord. The energy ball was a basic attack he'd learned from the crystal ball. It was apparently first created in Ancient Japan and was called the Reikodan.

Seeing the incoming attack, Voldemort sneered at it arrogantly. Despite his arrogance, he still brought his arms up in a defensive posture, remembering the sudden difficulty he was experiencing with Harry. The Reikodan crashed into the protective sphere, momentarily halting as the two energies battled one another as the immovable object met the unstoppable force. And the unstoppable force found the immovable object wanting…

The Reikodan punched through the sphere and slammed into Voldemort's crossed arms before exploding spectacularly. As the explosion died down, a blackened figure fell from the air and crashed into the icy surface below. Heaving for breath, Harry remained where he stood, keeping his lightsaber up and ready as he waited for the Dark Lord to climb back upright. Finally, after a few stressful moments, a long, scaly arm reached out of the icy crater. Then a scaly bald head appeared, eyes glowing red with rage and more than a little incomprehension. Voldemort's once majestic cloak was shredded, hanging off his bony shoulders and down around his tail in tatters.

Finally taking notice of what had happened to his body, Voldemort hissed in fear and disbelief. Rapidly looking himself over, the Dark Lord discovered that his body had been twisted and changed into a half-human, half-snake creature with dark green scales and long claws on the ends of his fingers. Turning his furious gaze upon Harry, Voldemort hissed out, "What have you done to me?!"

"Only now noticing it? I'm surprised it's taken you this long." Shaking his head in exasperation and resignation, Harry replied as calmly as he could, "I have done nothing to you, Tom. This is entirely your doing. I really should pity you, call you an idiot and a fool. Then I'd just feel like a hypocrite." Seeing that the rage was about to once again seize control of his enemy and cause him to attack again, Harry hastened to explain. "You were toying with magics and powers that you didn't understand."

"What are you talking about?!"

"What you're holding right there isn't what you think it is," Harry said, pointing towards the sword still in the Dark Lord's grasp. "That is not the Sword of Medrod."

"What are you talking about?" Voldemort repeated. "Of course it is! I've researched it for years!"

Shaking his head at the Dark Lord's willful ignorance, Harry said, "You really should've paid more attention to the Muggle World, or at least the old legends. If you'd had, you would know that the Sword of Medrod didn't kill Merlin. It killed King Arthur." Harry would forever claim that the look of dumbfounded realization that dawned upon Voldemort's face just then would always be one of his most cherished memories because of the sheer absurdity of it. Honestly, how could a Halfblood raised with Muggles such as himself have forgotten such an important detail in a story that he must've heard many times as a child? "I don't know what weapon you're holding right now, but that is not the Sword of Medrod. Oh and by the way, Medrod was also a muggle."

"No, no, NO!" Voldemort cried out, glaring at the sword as though it had committed a deeply personal grievance upon him. Which, in a way, it had. Then he turned his glare upon Harry before swinging the sword at him again in rage. Harry didn't even bother trying to dodge or defend himself. He just watched as the attack fizzled out and died not even halfway between them. Panting heavily at the effort he'd had to make just to launch the spell, Voldemort stared uncomprehendingly as his body started sagging, his knees bowing deeply from the effort just to remain standing. "What's going on here?!"

"You have lost," Harry declared. "You lost the moment you summoned that thing out of the void and you only have yourself to blame."

"What?" Despite his rage, the word came out weakly.

"Did you really think stealing the magic of your followers would empower you?" Harry asked. "Did you really think that fracturing and splitting your soul wouldn't have repercussions? Did you truly believe that you were exempt from the laws and consequences of magic?" Voldemort just stared at him like a petulant schoolboy being educated by a much wiser professor. "Power freely given is much stronger than that which is forcefully taken. And by splitting your soul into pieces, you damaged your own ability to wield your magic to its fullest potential, making yourself weaker with each piece you shed. Whatever that sword is, it is feeding upon your magic, transforming your body to mirror the monstrosity that you've twisted your soul into becoming." Here, Harry couldn't help smirking at the snake creature before him. "You are the architect of your own defeat this time."

"No, no, no, no, NO, NO, NOOOO!" Voldemort cried out, trying to reverse or fight against the force that was consuming him. But it was far too late and he was far too weak. Turning his gaze back upon Harry, he felt one last surge of hatred. Hefting up the sword with all of his remaining strength, he channeled the last few bits of his mighty magic into it as he cried out, "If I must die, I'm taking you with me!" Then he brought the sword down in a powerful slash towards his hated mortal enemy.

Time slowed down for Voldemort, who could only watch what unfolded as his body started growing heavy and unresponsive. Harry Potter rushed forward from where he'd stood. His glowing sword blade flashed down in an arc of blue-white light, striking the black void that was Voldemort's cursed sword. Impossibly, the glowing blade bit into and then cut through the darkness that Voldemort had truly believed was stronger than any earthly metal, snapping the deadly weapon in two. As the black sword separated into two pieces, it crumbled like ash in the wind and vanished into nothingness.

Then, still moving at such an unprecedented speed, Harry reversed his swing and brought his lightsaber upwards, neatly slicing into and through Voldemort's hideous body at a sharp angle. His upper body and right arm started falling to one side while his lower body and left arm fell to the other side. But neither of them landed upon the ground below him. Instead, he felt a powerful force ram into him and knock both pieces of him flying backwards, high into the air. He didn't know how long he flew through the air, his mind and body rapidly shutting down as death started to claim him. But he did vaguely feel the impact as he struck and smashed through something wooden and came to rest underneath it, gazing upwards. His last glimpse of sight was that of Minister Fudge's ridiculous bowler hat before the darkness finally claimed him.

Back on the rubble-covered grounds of the Hogwarts castle, Harry deactivated his lightsaber and fell to one knee, breathing heavily. 'It's over,' he thought, an overwhelming sensation of relief washing over him, amplified by the relief and mounting joy of the rest of the people nearby who'd witnessed it. 'It's finallyover!' Lifting his head, Harry looked over at where he'd thrown Voldemort's corpse and chuckled weakly. "I told you I wouldn't stop…until he lay at your feet, Fudge."

Bowing his head as he lowered one hand to steady himself on the ground, he started slowly trying to catch his breath and regain all of his lost power. It wouldn't be a quick recovery, even with the newfound magic he had coursing through him. He could feel the ambient magic in the environment was greatly depleted, thanks in large part to having so many Sorcerers nearby and from how much power there had been used to fight against everyone else. Maybe in an hour or two, he might be catch his fifth (or was it sixth at this point?) wind, but right now he was utterly exhausted.

Lifting his head, Harry reached into his pocket for his wand, intending to reverse the ice spell on the lake and to conjure some new clothes for himself. Though, as he held up his wand, he blinked and then gasped in horror. It was snapped in two pieces! "My wand!"

There must've been over twenty helicopters that descended down upon the Hogwarts grounds within the next few minutes, each of them divesting as many soldiers as they could carry within them, and all of them armed with machine guns and rifles. As to be expected, none of the present Wizards or Witches were inclined to cooperate with the Muggles. Things were heading towards a confrontation quickly with each side desiring the other to stand down and let them take control of the situation. Neither willing to submit, and both expecting a fight to take place. And things would've most assuredly taken that route had Ron not stepped in.

Landing down in the midst of the two sides from the large jump he'd taken from the castle, he held out his arms towards both sides. With his Sorcery, he grasped ahold of every soldier and Wizard that he could and held them in place, freezing them and preventing them from acting out.

"That's enough!" he shouted, glancing between both sides. "There's been enough fighting and deaths today! All of you will stand down, now!"

"Who are you?!" one of the soldiers demanded, one of the few in the back that wasn't under Ron's control. From what he could see of the imposing man, he must've most assuredly been a high-ranking officer, at the very least the one in command of the soldiers present on the ground. "What's going on here?!"

"My name is Ron Weasley," Ron answered easily. "Your questions will be answered, but everyone needs to calm down! No more fighting! I'm tired of it! Everyone is! Let's talk this out!"

"I couldn't agree more with you, Mr. Weasley," a familiar voice from behind the line of Wizards and Witches spoke up. It had the obvious effect of delighting and calming Ron down as he turned and looked over at the panting form of Albus Dumbledore striding forward through the line. "I believe you can release them now, my boy. I don't think they'll be making any more aggressive actions at this point." Turning his gaze upon the commanding officer, he pointed said, "Correct, sir?"

"That depends on them," the man said, gesturing towards the glowering and angry forms of the magical in front of him. "That lot looks ready for the fight to me."

Glancing back at the magicals, most of whom were the ICW enforcers and were indeed fighting desperately to free themselves of Ron's grip to attack, Albus looked back to the man and nodded. "I understand. But to be fair, you and your men have come charging into our lands with obvious intents to seize control and subjugate us."

"We detected a massive nuclear explosion overhead, lost two of my pilots, and found what looks like a civil war taking place around an old castle," the man pointed out. "Of course we're going to take control for the foreseeable future."

And thus the back and forth negotiations went, for several long and stressful hours for all involved.

"Harry, are you alright?!" Hermione asked as she and several others came running up to him, including Tonks, Hendrick, and Magorian.

"I'm fine, Hermione," Harry said, smiling weakly from where he was leaning heavily upon his cousin's shoulder.

"That was awesome, Harry!" one of the students cried out. "How did you do that? What did you do?!"

"I just…got a little help…" Harry said, glancing back towards the lake with a slight smile. 'Thank you, my friend.' Whether he was speaking towards the disembodied voice or the mermaid, even he wasn't sure. He was just grateful that he was able to get his head on straight again and the temporary help that was given.

"A little? A LITTLE?!" Tonks cried out, striding forward and grasping his shoulders to lightly shake him. "You had more power than anything or anyone I've ever heard of! And you call that 'a little'?!" Seeing her relieved and honest expression, Harry just smiled at the young woman wanly. Sighing heavily, she pulled him into a tight hug, ignoring his wet hair as she rubbed against the side of his head with her own.

"Soooo, what'd we miss?" someone else asked suggestively, seeing something other than a friendly reunion between friends taking place. But the implication was still enough to cause both of them to separate with obvious flushes of embarrassment.

"Hold still!" a loud, demanding voice suddenly called out, all of the crowd turning to face the speaker. It was a group of twenty ICW soldiers, all glaring at the group with their wands held at the ready. "You're under arrest for multiple charges, including but not limited to breaking the Statute of Secrecy and practicing Sorcery!"

As the rest of the group let out cries of anger, denial, and contempt, Harry just sighed. He could already guess what would happen. If he resisted, another fight would break out, which would easily snowball into another all-out battle. This time it wouldn't be between the Ministry and Centaurs, or those Specters and him or the Death Eaters and the Hogwarts defenders. No, this time it would be between the enforcers of the ICW and the arriving army of Muggles. There would only be bloodshed on all sides, with the Muggles most likely coming out the pyrrhic victors after a war of attrition but still learning next to nothing about the hows and whys of the battle in the first place.

"Alright, I surrender," Harry said softly. But even though he spoken gently, his voice still carried over the arguing Wizards and Witches, drawing everyone's gazes unto him. Pulling himself from Dudley's shoulder and taking a few tentative steps forward on unsteady legs, he said, "If it will prevent more bloodshed, then I will freely go with you."

"But, Harry—!"

"I have to, Hermione!" Harry snapped, looking over at one of his best friends. "It's time I was held accountable for what's happened. And what will come will come regardless. I won't run from it!"

Hermione, Tonks, Dudley, indeed everyone around him looked ready to argue the point but were holding themselves back upon seeing his expression. Moving forward weakly, he held out his lightsaber to the man in charge, who took it without comment but kept his attention and wand locked on the boy. Gathering around him, the squad of enforcers marched him away from his friends to what looked like a caged carriage near where the first group of enforcers had originally landed during the battle.

Climbing weakly into the carriage, Harry's last parting view of the area was that of many different sides that were involved in the battle conjoining and moving. Trying to pick up the pieces, sort out the details, and regain order. He saw Ron and Albus and several other Order members gathered with the Muggle and ICW commanding officers, trying to negotiate a peaceful ceasefire between their parties. He saw the remnants of the Ministry officials gathered around a portion of the pavilion, keeping the panicking and frothing form of Minister Fudge from fleeing from the corpse of the resurrected and recently deceased monstrous form of Voldemort. He saw a crowd of Hogwarts students still lining the walls of the castle, keeping anyone they didn't know and trust from approaching. He saw his cousin and friends staring mournfully after him as he looked back at them. He saw Magorian and Hendrick go fleeing into the Forbidden Forest where he could sense that the rest of the Lycans and Centaurs were still waiting for their return.

But most of all, he could see where his lightsaber was clipped to the belt of an ICW enforcer as he slammed the door shut in Harry's face.

'I wonder what'll happen next?' Harry asked himself before he sank back against the side of the uncomfortable carriage wall. In next to no time, his eyes were closing as exhaustion swept in and unconsciousness claimed him.

Looking down at the small form that was resting against his side, the old man smiled. His granddaughter had fallen asleep at some point in his retelling, but he didn't mind. She was still young, but she'd learn and understand in time. Glancing out the window, he saw that while the storm was still raging, it was starting to die down. By the time morning came, it would've long since passed.

"That's not exactly the way I remember the story going, Father," a voice from the doorway spoke. It was a woman with short black hair and dressed in silky pajamas that complimented her athletic figure wonderfully. Though her eyes were hazel colored like her mother, they had the same look of power that the old man's did, practically glowing like a cat in the darkness of the night.

"Well, if I'd told her how it really happened, she'd probably have nightmares for several weeks," the man countered ruefully. Standing up gently, he easily picked up the young child and turned towards his daughter. "I know it gave you nightmares the first time you heard it."

"True," the woman agreed reluctantly. There was no point in arguing with her father after all. Moving forward, she gently took the child from his arms and moved back towards the hall beyond. Before she departed entirely, she turned back and said, "Good night, father."

Harry Potter nodded back to his daughter as he returned to his bed, closing the door softly with just a minor flex of his magic. His gaze returning back to the old weapon he'd been looking at from the start, he smiled wanly down at it. "So many memories wrapped up around you, my old friend. I wonder how many more you'll gain after I've finally left for my own 'next grand adventure'." Finally setting the weapon aside on the nearby bedside table, he swung his legs up as he laid down on the bed, sleep finally claiming him as dreams and memories intermixed within his mind.

TO BE CONTINUED...

(Author's Note) Big time shout-outs to my longtime friend Fiori57 and my new beta badassumbreon for helping me clean up this chapter and smooth out the Voldemort fight! Also, for those who are interested, 'Modred' is the Cornish version of 'Mordred' from the old Camelot stories.

And before anyone asks, YES, this story is OVER. I'm ending it here for several reasons. But the most prominent ones are 1) the story is just becoming too big for me to write anymore, too many things happening for me to keep track of them all by myself, 2) I was starting to lose interest in the story because it's been taking so long for me to write it, 3) Real Life has become increasingly more demanding of my time and attention recently, and 4) I figure that starting from scratch with the sequel (The Sorcerer) would be a lot easier and fun than continuing this one.

I know that a lot of stuff has been left unresolved and unanswered. Chiefly being: what's going to happen to Harry now, where will the Centaurs go, how will the Lycan Army cope with the 'administrative changes' that happened at MagiTech. what's the Consortium got to do with any of this, and how will the situation with the Muggle Army be resolved? All good questions, but I fully intend to address each one with the sequel, should I decide to write it.

The long and the short of it is I'm tired of this story and need a break from it. I don't know when I'll get back to it, but I do want to write that sequel because I also want to know what'll happen next, just not right away. So, please be patient with me.

Or, for any aspiring writers, if you're interested in writing your own story in this universe I've created, just send me a PM and we can discuss possibilities.