That moment's hesitation: pondering, questioning, analyzing - something Harry had successfully overcome until now - was broken by that same hissing voice high in the room spitting out, "Avada Kedavra!" Harry turned carelessly, years of habit once again taking over and drawing his attention to the curse's origin. As he spun around, a figure in black jumped between him and Voldemort, great urgency in his tone as he cried, "Potter! Watch out!" With the figure's arms spread wide, Harry's mind instantly flashed a long-ago impression of a black bat, only this bat in front of him now had a green glow spreading across its back.

As the figure fell to the ground, Harry looked down to see the pallid face of Snape, whose lifeless eyes looked back in a way that Harry had never seen before, nor had he ever expected.

Time seemed to stand still for Harry, the room spinning in a hazy slow motion about him. He stood there, staring incredulously at Snape, as long-cultivated hatred and conflict were dissolving away, leaving Harry shorn of his internal walls of protection. Indeed, inside Harry's head it felt like Snape's shocking sacrifice served to echo Dumbledore's many words of trust, with each silent retort knocking one more brick from Harry's belief system. No longer would the memories of his parents retain the clear-cut simplicity that had driven Harry all these years. Bewilderment brought its own form of shock, and Harry just stood there.

Looking down, Voldemort raised his wand, refusing to be denied yet again. As he opened his reptilian mouth to cast the Killing Curse, an extraordinary white flash flooded the room, blinding everyone who still stood.

The burst of light brought a dazed and confused Harry back to his senses, the familiarity taking hold and refocusing his mind. Harry now put full faith in the twins. Once the light dissipated and Harry's pupils began to dilate, he immediately turned and rushed through the Veil of Death, disappearing completely from the Ministry of Magic.

Lord Voldemort stood at the top of the room, looking down with astonishment as Harry disappeared. His red eyes narrowed as fury replaced amazement. Too many times over too many years, Harry Potter had escaped death. Voldemort would not allow his revenge to be denied this final time, so he launched himself through the air, gliding headfirst toward the Veil. Any risk of entering the Veil was outweighed by the desire to kill the Prophecy once and for all. As Voldemort entered, a small piece of the Veil broke off and attached itself to the shoulder of his body as it passed through. Like Harry, Voldemort simply vanished.

George stepped from behind his hiding place, a smile of grim achievement on his face - he and Fred had successfully converted the Veil into a portkey. As he stood next to his father, his heart ached, knowing what he had just done to Harry.

The air rustled the leaves of the trees as it wound its way from hollow to hillock, carrying the moisture of the night and scents of the nearby countryside. Standing among those trees was an old, mutilated two-story cottage, long-abandoned in terrifying memory of murders most foul. Harry's ears picked up the soft sonic shiver from the leaves, and he felt the cool air caress his face even as his cheek pressed against the decade-old pavement. His senses told his brain that the ruse must have worked, and that knowledge set off an immediate alarm ringing in his head.

Wary of imminent danger, Harry vaulted to his feet and scrambled out beyond the perimeter of the columns. If the Dark Lord were true to form, his rage would prod his perception of invincibility to act. And, indeed, Harry had no sooner raised his wand in preparation than Voldemort appeared on the pavement in the very same spot that Harry had occupied but moments before.

Long had the world hoped for this moment to happen. Harry remembered Voldemort's sham in the graveyard - tormenting Harry by pretending to follow the niceties of the duel, all the while extending the agony as he circled in for the kill. Harry would take no such chance now, nor would he even entertain the idea that history's most terrible wizard deserved such consideration.

Wand aimed, Harry roared "Prismata Potter Hemo!" the instant he was sure that Voldemort had fully materialized. Too early, and the spell might not work. A split-second too late, and the consequences might be too dire to even contemplate. In fact, Harry did not even dare to let his mind consider what might happen if he failed now.

The Prismata Vita began their work, turning lavender and immediately encapsulating Voldemort in their light. Struggling against the crushing embrace of the Prismata Vita's spell, Voldemort found himself moving as if in molasses, becoming more entwined in the energy the more he resisted. The light penetrated his body and searched out every molecule derived from Harry's blood, taken by force in the graveyard and used for evil. Once found and identified, the light took back that which was once stolen.

Voldemort screamed in agony, a pain so debilitating that it brought back memories of seventeen years ago. With one crucial element of his life force now gone, Voldemort collapsed back onto the lane, his wand clutched in a hand no longer capable of following his will. With a raise of his own wand and a "Prismata Disseminus" spell spoken with soft assurance, Harry saw to it that the pirated blood would be gone forever.

Before Harry dared approach the crippled Voldemort, he removed the red glowing sphere from the inside pocket of his robe. Harry levitated the sphere, subconsciously fostering a feeling of magical mastery, then aimed his wand again and said in an even voice, "Soulus Extinctus!" The light from Harry's wand crackled through the air and struck the sphere, likewise turning it teal and bathing the area in a soft blue-green light. Soon, Harry's Horcrux was no more. He grasped the sphere, laid it on the ground and, with an element of finality more for emphasis than anything tangible, Harry crushed the sphere under the heel of his shoe.

Harry walked deliberately over to the prone Voldemort, feeling safe now but, nonetheless, completely focused and alert. There was one more thing he wanted to do before ending it all. He reached down and, with one quick determined motion, whisked Voldemort's wand out of his hand. Harry looked at the wand and considered it for just a moment, remembering Ollivander's words on the perverse greatness of this wand's deeds, before plunging the wand's handle into the pavement using force and spell both.

Backing outside the perimeter again, Harry illuminated each of the Prismata Vita with a simple "Lumos", then aimed his wand at its brother and commanded, "Prior Incantato!" The two wands connected with arched red lightning, just as Harry had seen in the graveyard three years before. Slowly, as expected, the spectres of Voldemort's victims emerged from his wand. Harry fervently hoped to see his parents one more time and, when they appeared, he resisted the temptation to talk. Harry simply reveled in his love for them, tinged with sadness though it may be.

What Harry did not expect was for Albus Dumbledore's apparition to also appear from Voldemort's wand, preceeded by Snape and followed by Amelia Bones and Lindgren. Harry was thunderstruck to see Dumbledore, and the pain he felt increased two-fold. Harry could only surmise that Voldemort sent Snape with his own wand on that fateful night - that Voldemort must have truly hated Dumbledore to take such an enormous risk in order to maintain some direct part in his death. Surprise was followed by even greater animosity, and Harry's resolve became deeper yet.

Voldemort's victims made a ring about the prostrate body, their shadows, cast inward by the glowing Prismata Vita, pointing at Voldemort's body as it struggled to maintain its tenuous grasp on life. Each victim, in turn, approached Voldemort and had one final say to him. Harry was moved to tears, his heart touched by each victim, not simply his parents and Dumbledore. When they were done, they completed the circle one more time, nodded to Harry in thanks, then slowly evaporated into a peaceful existence.

The time had come. Harry walked up to Voldemort's wretched body with slow, measured steps. As he stood over him, Harry heard a strained weak voice as Voldemort tried to speak. Harry bent his knees, knelt on the ground and leaned over Voldemort. Harry's eyes widened when he finally could hear what Voldemort was saying. With a faint smile on his face, and with the utmost deference to his beloved Professor Dumbledore, Harry simply answered, "Yes, Tom."

With that, Harry backed away, aimed his wand and shouted "Avada Kedavra!" Seventeen years of venom and pain lent their combined force to Harry's Killing Curse. Hermione, who had been standing among the trees with Ron and Charlie, their wands at the ready the entire time, screamed as the green lightning bolt from Harry's wand destroyed the final portion of Tom Riddle's body and soul and, along with it, Lord Voldemort.

As the echoes of Hermione's scream rolled along the hillocks surrounding Godric's Hollow, the morning sun climbed its way over the easternmost point. Harry looked up at the broken cottage for the very first time. With the upper right slope of the cottage's front wall in stepped tatters, but the majority standing tall in silent memorial, the sun's rays caught the centre tip of the roof.

It was the dawn of a new day.

In the years since that day, the magical world found itself enjoying a tranquility it could hardly have imagined just a decade ago. Even as the Muggles continued to plunge their world into chaos, the witches, wizards and squibs found their lives so much more serene. Each day for them seemed better than the last. And it was.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was enjoying a similar renaissance unlike anything seen for generations. Despite the tragic loss of its great Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, the school's stature had grown considerably as it had become the most highly-respected centre of wizarding education. The classrooms and hallways teemed with a sense of camaraderie and purpose while the bucolic grounds provided an environment for all manner of diversions.

First year Glynis Weasley, bedecked in her new black robes and scarlet and gold tie, made sure that she arrived early to her most anticipated subject - her uncle's Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Glynis had bushy brown hair, overly-large front teeth, more freckles then one could ask for and, just like her mum, a voracious appetite for reading. With plenty of time before class began, she pulled out her most-read book, The Fall of the Dark Lord by Luna Lovegood.

Luna was one of Glynis's favourite people, as she had known her all her young life. When Harry Potter had finally vanquished Lord Voldemort, it was Luna and her father's magazine, The Quibbler, that had been given the exclusive story. From her initial articles, Luna had developed this book, which had become an instant best-seller. To this day no book in the magical world sells more copies.

Glynis began thumbing through the purple and gold book, each page adorned with 24K gold lettering and copious photographs. No expense was spared in the production, and it showed. Following the complicated and tense history of Harry Potter, Luna chose to have a section devoted to those characters involved, each with his or her own page. No person who helped in the fall of the Dark Lord could be discounted, for no role was too small nor any less brave than anyone else's. Simply titled "Vitae," this was Glynis's best-loved section, and she soon found herself idly flipping through some of her most revered personalities:

"Neville Longbottom, who through the years matured beyond all expectations, had the greenhouses at Hogwarts posthumously named in his honour. His grandmother, whose personal losses had been almost beyond comprehension, was deeply proud of all that Neville had finally accomplished.

Every week, no matter what the season, Hogwarts sees to it that fresh flowers are delivered from these very greenhouses to Alice and Frank Longbottom at St. Mungo's Hospital. Alice and Frank could never understand the importance of the flowers, but they did enjoy the sweet fragrances and the pretty colours."

The photograph shows Neville examining his Remembrall, alternating quizzical looks with his broad smile.

Glynis, as she always did, passed right over Draco Malfoy and the Malfoy family.

"Sirius Black, godfather to Harry Potter and best friend to James Potter, is one of the truly tragic figures in this history. Unjustly imprisoned in Azkaban, he eventually escaped only to meet his end in the Veil of Death. Total vindication came too late for this tortured soul. Harry Potter included Sirius Black in his personal family book, seen only by family members and a few close friends."

The photograph shows a young Sirius horsing around with James Potter and Remus Lupin during their student days at Hogwarts.

"To this day, Severus Snape, Professor at Hogwarts and enigmatic member of the Death Eaters, remains a mystery. While he clearly absolved himself by saving Harry Potter's life in the Department of Mysteries on that fateful day, historians have never been able to discover the basis for Albus Dumbledore's legendary trust in Snape. This also remains in direct contrast to Snape's apparent killing of Dumbledore on the lightning-struck tower at Hogwarts. Nonetheless, Snape bore out this trust in the end, and for that reason Harry Potter has seen to it that a portrait of Professor Snape hangs in a prominent place in the Potions classroom."

The photograph is of Professor Snape lecturing as he stands over his bubbling cauldron.

The next few pages were devoted to members of the Order of the Phoenix. Glynis always liked to read the part about Remus Lupin and Tonks, now married and based at the Order's still-secret headquarters.

"Muggles have never been able to figure out the meaning of the golden statue of that strange little creature simply engraved "Rekky" that sits in the park across from 14 Grimmauld Place. Having never been able to remove it, they have simply come to accept it."

Needless to say, Tonks's hair is a vivid pink in their honeymoon picture taken in Transylvania. A happy Tonks is not above a little gleeful irony, Glynis reflected, smiling. Right after that was Alistair Moody, legendary Auror and now Special Advisor to the Minister of Magic. Glynis always found herself giggling as she recalled stories of Moody and the 'amazing bouncing ferret'.

Glynis finally reached the pages that dealt with her family, so reading found itself transforming into 'daydreaming.' Grandfather, Arthur Weasley is now Minister of Magic, and the Ministry is enjoying years of efficiency and good work. Of course, Grandad has added his own little touches such as enchanted Muggle artifacts all over the offices. It is hard to avoid at least one good laugh each day working there, and most everyone wouldn't have it any other way. Nan is completely throwning herself into the role of 'grandmother' and is currently in Egypt helping take care of young Auria, whose resplendent golden hair conjures up immediate thoughts of her mother.

Uncles Fred and George are becoming even richer thanks to their wizarding-world-famous joke shop. Birthdays in the Weasley family are always exceptional affairs, and 'Potter Day' is celebrated with no less enthusiasm. Parents and professors alike always hold their breath on that day but somehow manage to also turn a blind eye to the goings-on. Turning a deaf ear is quite another matter, however. Even an aging Argus Filch manages to relax the Hogwarts rules just a bit on that day. His treasured ghost, Mrs. Norris, finds the day worthwhile just hanging out with the other ghosts rather than roaming the halls.

Father has gone to work for the 'twins' as older members of the family still refer to them. Soon after Potter Day they purchased Zonko's Joke Shop in Hogsmeade and established it as their second location, and upon graduation from Hogwarts, Father took it over. The new shop is doing nearly as well as the original Diagon Alley location, thanks in part to a thriving owl-order business, particularly with Beauxbatons Academy and Durmstrang. Glynis suspects that this is no coincidence, knowing Father's early affection for both Quidditch and the veela. Mum teases him often about that, and Father's red face always brings a smile.

Mum's renown continues to this day as she is now the Deputy Minister for Magical Creature Affairs. Her early campaigning on behalf of the house-elves never leaves her heart, and her fantastic work in her Ministry role has brought great peace and respect among all the magical creatures. Her Special Assistants, Dobby, Firenze and Grawp work tirelessly for her, and their efforts have paid off handsomely - those on the side of good are stronger and more united than ever before.

Students began to file slowly into class, breaking Glynis' reverie as they entered in small groups, chatting nervously before their new class. Glynis recognized her twin cousins, who spied her from the door and returned her brisk wave. Their mum, Aunt Ginny, has proven to be a very powerful witch. Glynis, being around Ministers, Aurors and members of The Order almost constantly, has overheard many an adult conversation in which people said that Aunt Ginny may very well be the most powerful witch or wizard since Dumbledore. Glynis did not doubt that, for Aunt Ginny is now in charge of training the 'elite of the elite': Dumbledore's Army. No one who becomes an Auror does so without going through this training.

Soon all the students were in their seats, the tension almost palpable - not only for Glynis - as this was the class every student wanted to take. Moments later, the side door clicked open and in walked Professor Potter, whose black hair, green eyes and lightning-bolt scar accented the face of the most famous person in the wizarding world.

Silence accompanied his taking of attendance, but that only lasted briefly into Harry's introduction into the necessity and subject matter of 'Defense Against the Dark Arts.' As they did every year, the first years practically begged Harry to tell them the story of his early years: the battle with and eventual downfall of the Dark Lord.

Glynis leaned forward with intense excitement. No matter how many times she had heard this story, even as a youngster on Uncle Harry's lap, this was going to be different, and she knew it. This was where all her friends would hear it first-hand, and they would be 'allowed' into her family. Nothing in her life thus far would equal this hour, and she knew with complete certainty that her cousins were sharing this very same exhilaration.

Harry wound his way through the narrative with each first year completely absorbed in the tale. Their eyes were wide and their mouths open as they hung on every word, every nuance. When Harry got to that fateful moment when he leaned over the doomed Voldemort, he took a long and dramatic pause. One brave first year thrust his hand into the air and stammered, dying to know but completely intimidated, "B-but P-Professor P-Potter, what d-did Lord Voldemort say?" The words shot out of his mouth before his fear took over and choked him into silence.

Harry took a moment and reflected. As he looked around at all of his students, he could not help but make eye contact with the twins. Young Lily, with red hair and green eyes, and her brother James with black hair and intense blue eyes, both returned his stare with a love that Harry simply could not describe. No parent really needed to.

Harry was home, and he knew it. As he looked around at his impressionable charges just a bit more, a small smile broke across his face. In a quiet even voice that totally belied the moment, Harry said, "Tom Riddle's last words were, "Was it the scar?"