A different ending to Harry Potter...

Hmmmm. I don't demand complete copyright of the following idea. I suppose I have to share a part of the credit with Sid (my brother) , with whom I had discussed this a looooong time ago (to be exact, after the Fourth book).





It was over. And yet, it felt like the beginning. The body of Lord Voldemort lay a few feet ahead of him, his eyes closed to everything around him, his hands spread open, wandless. The dark lord was defeated. And yet Harry felt no joy. No relief. No pain. All that mattered was that he had lost, when he was supposed to have won. He had lost everyone. He had lost his friends, his love, his family. Everyone he had trusted had either betrayed him or died fighting by his side. He couldn’t bear it anymore. The truth was killing him. He opened his eyes into the darkness. For a second, everything flashed in front of his eyes. Ron dead. Ginny dead. Dumbledore, whom he had trusted with his life, seemed to have been playing with him all along, even from the beyond. He was but a puppet in the way. His blood was boiling with rage. The Weasleys who were like the family he never had, had lied to him. They let Ginny die. Ginny. His heart was beating faster than ever. The third and final prophecy about the Dark Lord was coming true.

He stood up. He was surprised he was so calm. Slowly he looked around. Hooded figures were standing all around him. They were nervous. Not one of them dared to raise their wand against him. He looked at each of them. Slowly he took out his wand. He knew what had to be done. He looked at the Death Eaters in front of him. They needed a master. He needed Revenge. Revenge … He could hear Trelawney’s voice in his head. ‘And in search of revenge, the truth shall awaken the need of the Dark Lord‘. It all made sense to him now. There was only one thing left to do. He had made his decision.

Slowly they came forward. He twirled the elder wand in his fingers and waited for them. One by one, they fell at his feet and kissed the hem of his black robes murmuring, ‘Master … Master … ’



The Dark Lord had risen again.