"Today it ends," I thought to myself in the freezing silence of the Godric's Hollow graveyard. The demon within me let out a guttural growl in agreement; it felt nothing but an unquenchable thirst for blood and the suffering that was to come.
With crushing sorrow, I gazed at the snow-covered graves of my parents. For a brief moment, I allowed my human side to dream – of what it would be like to be an ordinary man, to be happy and to have them by my side. But it was only a cruel, unreachable dream. The reality was etched into the cold stone before my feet: "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death."
I smiled, but it was a smirk without a trace of joy. I was ready to fulfill the prophecy to the last letter. I was ready to take Riddle with me and drag him deep into hell, where we both belonged.
With one last, long look at the names of Lily and James Potter, I turned away. The world around me lost its colors and contours. The air blurred, and without a single sound, I dissolved into the shadows that willingly swallowed me.
***
I found myself in the Hogwarts Headmaster's office. Aside from Fawkes, who watched me silently from his perch, it was empty. I merely nodded to him in greeting. I didn't dare reach out and scratch his feathers as I once had; I was too afraid that the pure phoenix would reject my touch. The bird replied with a soft, mournful trill, and I saw deep sadness in his eyes.
"Could you go get Professor Dumbledore, please? I've come to say goodbye."
Fawkes immediately burst into flames and vanished. A minute later, he was back, and with him, the Professor. The second Dumbledore saw me, he drew his wand. Something dark radiated from that piece of wood in his hand – I could sense blood, suffering, and death from it.
Dumbledore eyed me warily. He stood tense, ready for anything, looking as if he had aged fifty years in the last two. The legendary spark in his eyes had finally gone out. He looked like a man utterly destroyed by life and his own decisions.
"Professor," I greeted him with a slight bow of my head.
"Harry... I didn't expect to ever see you again," he said softly.
"I've come to say goodbye, Professor. Today, both Riddle and I end up in hell," I replied without emotion.
"What has happened to you, my boy?" he asked with a broken voice. His compassion burned me more than the hatred of my enemies.
Instead of answering, I mentally released the Beast. Half of my face immediately deformed, the skin turning black, and my eye flooded with a neon glow. "A curse," I spoke with a rasping, dual voice. "By the time I negotiated a deal with it, it was too late. Everyone I cared about is dead."
A tear rolled down Dumbledore's cheek, which he quickly wiped away with the hem of his robe. "I am so immensely sorry, Harry. You did not deserve such a fate." After a moment, however, he continued with a sudden hope in his voice: "I have spent the last year and a half partly in Egypt, searching for old counter-rituals. So far without success, but please, hold on a bit longer... I will find a ritual to get that demon out of you."
"How do you even know about the ritual?" I asked curiously as my face returned to its human form.
Dumbledore sighed heavily and began to explain. "When you were kidnapped, Severus sent me a message immediately. Then there was silence until you appeared in Diagon Alley – battered, but physically stronger than ever. At first, we were relieved. But after that first massacre, we understood that something was wrong. Thanks to Miss Granger, we knew what you had turned into, though we didn't know why."
He paused for a moment and swallowed hard. Tears were now flowing uncontrollably. "Voldemort killed Severus on the same day he cursed you. It took us months to track down the truth. It was only through Legilimency that I forced information about that bloody ritual out of a captured Death Eater. But by then it was too late – your crusade against them had already begun."
I was silent for a while, staring into the void, but then I just shook my head sadly. "It doesn't matter anymore, Professor. Everyone I loved is under the ground. As long as I am alive, Voldemort will live too. Today, I close the circle."
"Not everyone, Harry. Miss Granger still thinks of you and works tirelessly to find a solution to your condition," Dumbledore shook his head sadly.
"Oh? I thought she would hate me after everything. Actually, I came to say goodbye to her as well," I admitted with surprise. After she cast an Avada at me back then, I expected nothing but hatred.
"No, Miss Granger feels no hatred toward you, but love and understanding. Perhaps at the beginning, when she had no idea what was happening to you... but now, she would be glad to talk to you, even if only for a moment."
I just nodded silently. A heavy silence filled the room, broken after a while by the Professor's trembling voice.
"Harry, Voldemort cannot simply die. He has hidden parts of his soul scattered across the world. As long as they exist, he will return."
I raised my hand, and in my palm, a green hellfire ignited by my mere thought. "Professor, there is no coming back from hell. This fire will burn everything, even the parts hidden outside his body. Voldemort dies today. He, and his last Death Eaters."
Dumbledore continued to look at me sadly, as if he saw the end of the world he knew in that flame.
"I see you are determined, Harry. But can you do one last favor for this old fool?" he asked with a broken voice.
"Depends on what it is, Professor."
"Mercy for Draco Malfoy. He does not deserve to die for the sins of his parents. He had no choice but to follow in their footsteps."
I studied him thoughtfully, but then I just shrugged indifferently. "I can sense good and evil directly in a soul, Professor. If I don't see only rot in him, I will let him live," I promised seriously.
"Thank you," he whispered, and I saw him visibly relax in that second. The burden of Draco's life, which he had taken upon his shoulders, became a little lighter.
I nodded and slowly stood up from the chair. "Professor, could you please contact Hermione? I will be waiting for her in that classroom where Fluffy used to be," I requested.
"Yes, I will send for her immediately," he agreed without hesitation.
I turned and walked toward the door. But before I could close it behind me, I heard his whispered question. It was so quiet that he was clearly afraid to say it out loud – he probably hoped I wouldn't hear him anymore: "What is my soul like, Harry?"
I stopped with my hand on the handle.
"White, Professor. But with subtle shades of grey," I answered honestly and slammed the door behind me without another word.
As I walked down the spiral stairs, his desperate, muffled crying echoed through the castle. It was the sound of a man who, after years of uncertainty, had finally found peace, though at the cost of losing everything.
***
With a slow, melancholic pace, I walked from the West Tower to the third floor. I was heading to the room where Hagrid had once hidden Fluffy. It was a safe place, forgotten and dusty, where no one had set foot for years.
The corridors were empty. The students were in class, which suited me – if any of them saw me, panic would break out immediately. Along the way, I mentally revisited all the experiences, both good and bitter, that I had shared here with Ron and Hermione.
What wouldn't I give for one last game of chess with Ron? To play Quidditch for Gryffindor again, or to go back in time and feel that pure terror while stabbing the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets? Back then, the world was clear.
Finally, I was there. I slowly opened the heavy door and stepped into a dark room full of cobwebs. Only the three-headed dog was missing. Although I could see in the dark as clearly as in the day, I knew Hermione would have trouble. I snapped my fingers, and the braziers in the corners of the room immediately flared up.
The room came alive with warm, dancing light.
I was honestly afraid of her reaction when she saw me again, but I couldn't go to my death without seeing her one last time. It didn't take long. Quick, hesitant footsteps echoed from the corridor.
The door opened cautiously and Hermione stepped inside. I was immediately hit by her familiar, pleasant scent of strawberries, old parchment, and books. She stopped for a moment, noticed me right away, and looked me over with undisguised surprise. But that shock lasted only a second – she immediately ran toward me.
She had changed. She was no longer the girl from the library, but a mature, confident, and attractive woman with a strong build, even though she was missing one forearm because of me. Despite all the evil she had endured, there was enough courage left in her to voluntarily walk into a room with a monster like I had become.
"Harry," she whispered. I felt her gaze searchingly pass over my long hair, the pale features of my face, and down to my feet. I was wearing a dark robe made of acromantula silk – a trophy I had taken from one of the Death Eaters. There had been so many of them that I couldn't even remember his name.
"Hermione," I breathed.
"Oh, Harry!" she cried and threw herself into my arms without hesitation.
I stood like I was carved from stone. Her warmth was so foreign, so alive. The Beast within me stirred restlessly, confused by the proximity of someone it couldn't kill. Carefully, fearing I might break her with my unnatural strength, I hugged her back.
After a moment, I gently let her go and stepped back to create a safe distance between us again.
"I've come to say goodbye, Hermione. This whole nightmare ends today," I said in a voice that sounded far too final.
"What do you mean, goodbye? You'll come back, Harry... won't you?" she cried, despair reflected in her eyes. "We'll rid you and the world of that curse! I'm studying Arithmancy, I'm doing my Mastery... if I don't find an existing counter-ritual, I'll invent one myself! Just give me time."
"It's not possible, Hermy," I replied bitterly. "According to the prophecy, we both must die, otherwise a piece of soul will always remain here for Voldemort to return from." I paused and looked at my pale hands, which had shed so much blood. "And truthfully... I can't live anymore. I've left too many dead behind. The wizarding world hates me, and the Ministry sees me as a greater threat than Riddle. If they knew I was standing in this room, they would burst in here immediately with the intent to kill me."
Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes and began to stream uncontrollably down her cheeks. She pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle the sobs rising from her throat. She saw her best friend before her, but deep in her soul, she felt the chilling certainty that she was seeing me for the last time.
"You will live, Hermy," I answered with unexpected tenderness in my voice. "You will have a family, a husband, and children. You will become the Minister for Magic and finally fix this corrupt country where young people and children die just for the whims of old fools. You are the one who will change it all."
"But I don't want anyone else! I only want you!" she cried desperately and threw her arms around my neck again, as if she could hold me in this world with her embrace.
She whispered brokenly into the heavy silence of the room while her tears soaked my black robe: "Please... don't leave me. I can't do this without you."
I closed my eyes and felt the Beast within me go quiet for a moment. But I knew that if I wavered now, the shadow of Voldemort would never vanish. I had to be strong for both of us.
"I'm sorry, Hermione. In an ideal world, we would have grown old together, happy, surrounded by children and grandchildren. You would have been the Minister and I an Auror. Unfortunately... my life ended the night I was born," I said quietly.
Only her desperate sobbing echoed through the room. I didn't allow myself to stop: "I have left all the Potter and Black estates to you. You have the best lawyers money can buy at your disposal. There is also money from many Death Eater families in the vaults – you are by far the wealthiest person in the wizarding world. When you become Minister, please, make sure no wizarding child ever has to be a servant to Muggles again. Destroy the foul corruption that forces us young ones to die."
I gently pulled away. I lifted her face with my hand and pressed one last, fragile kiss onto her lips. They were wonderful – full of life and warmth. Not even the salty taste of her tears could ruin this moment, which I wanted to take with me into the darkness.
With immense heaviness, I stepped away from her completely. I knew that if I stayed one more second, I would lose the last remnants of my resolve.
"I believe in you, Hermione Granger. Be happy."
The moment I began to dissolve into the darkness of the shadows, her last heart-wrenching cry shook the room:
"Harry!"
***
I paced restlessly through the hall, waiting for my fated enemy. Who could have guessed that the demon would focus exclusively on the Death Eaters? The whole time he was systematically slaughtering my servants, I felt his dark amusement. But whenever I tried to track him down and kill him, he evaded me like smoke between my fingers.
I convinced myself that he feared my power... but the more of my faithful died, the louder that quiet, nagging voice in my head became. It whispered that he was just savoring me. That he was saving me for the very end.
Only the last three Death Eaters remained in the manor. Lucius – a worm who today resembled a molting chicken more than a proud nobleman; only a wreck with thinning hair remained of the once powerful wizard. Then his son Draco, who had no choice, and finally Bellatrix – my loyal fanatic, who still blindly believed in victory.
I waited for him to finally come. He had caused me incredible damage. Even if I kill him now, it will take another twenty years to gather my strength again... and I had the Ministry almost under my thumb a year and a half ago. At least thanks to the Horcruxes, I have all eternity.
The night was black, but sleep would not come. I sat on my throne, clutching my wand, when I suddenly felt Lucius's magic extinguish through the Dark Mark. He died. The silence in the manor was cut in that second by a piercing, desperate female scream.
"Lucius!"
Narcissa Malfoy's voice carried through the corridors like a death knell. The demon was in the manor.
I didn't even move; I sat motionless on my throne. Bellatrix was close, lurking in the shadows of the corridor, and had a chance to surprise him.
"Avada Kedavra!" her hateful voice shrieked.
Instead of the sound of a falling body, however, I only heard the dry snap of breaking bones and a painful whimpering that crawled toward the hall. The doors then burst open and Bellatrix fell at my feet. Her lower jaw was missing and her right hand was crushed to a pulp.
Harry Potter entered the room with a slow, predatory step. How is this possible? He was supposed to be a demon, but a man stood before me. His eyes, however, blazed with a neon hellish glow and he approached me with the certainty of a predator.
"Avada Kedavra!" I cast my most trusted curse.
I hit him directly in the chest. For a moment, a sense of triumph washed over me, but it was immediately replaced by a chill. Potter didn't even waver. He walked on with a cruel, motionless smile.
"Avada Kedavra!" I shouted again. A hit. No effect.
Half of Potter's face transformed into the face of a demon. A booming, guttural laugh began to echo through the hall, drowning out even Bellatrix's last dying rattle. He was already too close. In a hysterical fit of fear, I tried my luck one last time: "Avada Kedavra!"
Nothing again. In a surge of despair, I decided on a spell that leaves no survivors. A spell that devours existence itself.
"Pestis Incendium!"
The entire hall immediately burst into ravenous green flames. The fire turned Bellatrix to ash in a second and began devouring the furniture and walls. Potter stopped just before the cursed fire. I smiled contentedly and gripped my wand tighter.
"Did you think you were more powerful than me, Potter?" I shouted through the crackle of the magical inferno. "I will kill you and then wipe out everyone who dares to stand in my way!"
I smirked cruelly, intoxicated by the destructive power of my own spell.
He stared at me motionless for a moment. Then he just shook his head contemptuously and took a step forward, directly into the gluttonous flames.
I watched as the fire immediately consumed him, but then my blood ran cold. Potter walked through the middle of that hell completely untouched. The only thing the flames managed to digest was his clothing and the clip in his hair.
It wasn't the Potter I knew who stepped out of the fire. A dark, muscular demon was walking toward me, with the very center of hell dancing in his eyes.
In despair, I began to fire one curse after another at him. Everything I knew, every dark magic I had ever studied. Nothing stopped him. With chilling calm and without haste, he came right up to me. Before I could react, he grabbed my wand and brutally ripped it from my grasp – along with my fingers.
My roar echoed through the hall. I hadn't felt such burning physical pain since my days at Hogwarts.
The demon only laughed gutturally, with amusement. The hellfire raged around us, and my hot blood flowed onto the floor I had once considered my throne.
"I cannot die, Potter!" I screamed in agony as soon as I caught my breath. "I am immortal!"
He took his time. With undisguised cruelty, he amused himself with my suffering, as if every drop of my blood were nectar to him. Then he reached out again. He grabbed my forearm and, with a terrifying sound of tearing skin and snapping bones, ripped it from my body.
I desperately began to crawl toward the hellfire. Better to be consumed by my own spell and hope for a return through Horcruxes than to be slowly and methodically tortured to death.
Behind me, the metallic scraping of claws against the floor echoed. He followed me with inhuman patience. When I was within reach of the flames, a dry snap of fingers echoed through the hall. In that second, all the fire vanished. Only a cold, dark hall remained, in which his hellish eyes shone like two beacons of doom.
"I will kill you, Potter! I will kill you!" I shrieked at him in a fit of madness. "I will torture you to death, revive you, and kill you again! I'll let your friend rot just like her parents! You'll regret ever being born! I will return!"
At that moment, Potter stopped laughing. The atmosphere in the room grew even colder. He stepped toward me in a single fluid motion and, before I could open my mouth again, ripped the tongue right out of my throat with a lightning-fast flick of his hand.
Now, only my choking gurgles and helpless wheezing echoed through the room. The demon was no longer laughing.
In a second, he changed back into Potter. He turned toward the throne where he had previously tossed my wand and my fingers, and headed there with a slow, victorious step. When he returned, he was clutching my yew wand.
"Time for your own medicine, Riddle," he announced with cruel amusement. Then, without a single hesitation, he cast the curse: "Crucio!"
My body immediately began to thrash uncontrollably on the ground. It was indescribable – as if white-hot needles were being driven into every millimeter of my skin. I clawed at the hard stone floor with my fingernails, in the same spot where my own victims had once dug in agony.
When he released the spell for a second, I tried to beg for mercy. Instead of words, however, only an unintelligible, bloody gurgle came from my throat. Tears of burning pain and total humiliation flowed from my eyes.
"Oh, Tom... you had no problem when you were torturing others, but when you are the one being tortured, you're just a small, pathetic wreck," he spat through his teeth in a voice full of hatred. "It's time for round two. And I promise you, this will be worse."
"Crucio!"
The pain that followed was a thousand times more intense. I lost track of time and space. My entire universe shrunk to one endless scream that my throat could not produce. My body shook in spasms so violent that my muscles tore. The smell of ammonia and my own excrement filled the air, but I didn't care. In that moment, I desired only one thing – for him to finally kill me.
Just as I was finally losing myself in my own madness, that burning pain receded. I lay there like a gutted piece of meat, unable to move.
"You are a weakling and a coward, Riddle. You've destroyed an incredible number of lives, but your era has just ended," Potter's voice spoke above me, cold as a tombstone. "You aren't coming back. You're going back to hell with me, where we both belong."
In the corner of my darkened mind, I still clung to one single hope. My Horcruxes. They would save me.
"Oh, I see those desperate thoughts in your bald head, Tom," he remarked amusedly, as if reading an open book. He leaned over me so close that I could smell the blood on his breath. "No one gets out of hell at all. No part of you. All the pieces of your broken soul will go into the void along with us."
He transformed into the demon again. His massive hand grabbed me by the head and lifted me into the air like a rag doll. With a slow, methodical movement, he began to tear my limbs from their joints. He enjoyed my every spasm, my every twitch. Although the pain was different from the Cruciatus Curse, the sounds of snapping bones and tearing tendons finally broke my psyche. Blood poured from my wounds, and I prayed in my mind that the loss would finally kill me and end my suffering.
But he saw directly into my mind. Hellfire immediately flared in his palms, and the choking smell of burnt flesh joined the scent of blood and waste. My wounds immediately sealed under the heat of the flames – he wouldn't let me bleed out. He didn't want me to die before he took me with him.
"Ready for the journey, Tom?" he asked with chilling amusement in his voice. He didn't wait for my answer. He simply snapped his fingers.
In that instant, his hellfire consumed us both. It wasn't just the death of the body. I felt the fire bite into the very essence of my soul. In a single blinding flash of green flames, we vanished from this world.
***
In the abandoned wreck of a house in Little Hangleton, where someone had nailed a snake to the door, the box containing the ring suddenly burst into flames in the silence. Green fire turned it to ash in a second.
In the dusty house at Grimmauld Place, where an elf's corpse rotted in a cupboard, a necklace with the sign of a snake suddenly began to burn out of nowhere. It flared with green fire until nothing was left of it at all.
Deep in the Lestrange vault, among heaps of gold, a cup with the sign of a badger ignited.
At Hogwarts, in a room full of old junk, a silver diadem exploded with green flame.
And in a Wiltshire forest, a massive snake turned into a living torch mid-motion. Green fire consumed it before it could let out its final hiss.
***
Author's note:
What do you think about his visit to the graveyard? A sad conversation with a man broken by life and a romantic moment with Hermione. And finally... the ironic twist of fate where Voldemort himself provided Harry with the power necessary for his own death.
Do you like the story? Only the last chapter — the Epilogue — remains.
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