Deathly Hallows is aparently Godric’s Hallow… if you haven’t noticed all the Horxcues have been based on the founders of Hogwarts so the last one will have to be there. I bet Harry and Voldemort will have a big battle there and one will die… I’m not sure which. I really hope Harry lives, that would just ruin it for me if he didn’t.

Voldemort and Bellatrix won’t have a baby… that’s insane

this whole chapter isn’t written in JKR’s style at all… I’m currently reading the Order for the 6th time [due to the movie comming out =)]

this is just dumb…

“So, what will you do now?” asked Petunia.
“Become an Aurore, though there is no need for them anymore.”

“Aurore”?!?!?!! if this was really JKR writing she would spell it RIGHT! concidering it’s her own word….

*rolls eyes* people are idiots

Jeanne Muriault conglomerated with other heads of states in
Hogwarts’ Great Hall. In front of her were three cell phones, all turned
on, passing information as loud as they could. Sitting next to the
President of France, the Prime M minister of Great Britain was also
surrounded by phones. They were keeping a close watch on Tintagel.
General James was reporting to the Prime Minister every five
minutes. He had been chosen to lead the human army, even though
none of his men, or he for that matter, had any idea what to expect.
Bad news started to pour. The death of Bill Weasley was
particularly hard to take for the Prime Minister who had come to
consider him as an ally, possibly a friend. As more bad news flowed,
he became less eager to share information with his French colleague.
“What’s going on?” Muriault said.
“We’ve lost,” whispered the Prime Minister, his voice choked by
dread.
General James sent soldiers to walk amongst the wizards and to
report back to him. He had been adamant that the most important
wizard to find was Harry Potter. General James had his spies repeat
the latest information three times before passing it on to the Prime
Minister. Their cell phones were hardly working anymore and he could
not wait for confirmation of the young man’s death.
“Is Harry Potter dead?” asked Muriault, fully aware of the
consequences.
“Voldemort is strangling him as we speak…”
The President of France took a deep breath and opened her
briefcase to retrieve a phone she had not used yet. She stayed close
to the Prime Minister so he would hear what she was about to say.
“Launch the Mirages.”
Muriault closed her eyes and turned off her phone.
“What are you doing?” shouted the Prime Minister. “You are not
going to drop atomic bombs on… ”
“We don’t have a choice,” cut in Muriault. “We cannot take the
risk of losing.”
289
“Wait, please. Don’t you know you’re about to destroy millions of
lives?”
“They are our last weapons. I am doing what your Prime Minister
did to the French fleet during World War II.”
The argument was impossible to counter. Muriault’s historical
logic was a done deal. If Winston Churchville felt necessary to destroy
the French fleet during the second war, he, the current Prime Minister,
had no choice but to allow the French president to act accordingly.
“Couldn’t you have waited until we are sure?” said the Prime
Minister.
“Every country in the world is watching this battle. If I did not do
it, the United States would or the German Chancellor. In fact, they
probably are sending their jets as we speak.”
They jumped to their feet when a ghost came down from the
ceiling. They had heard of these Hogwarts’ special students
supervisors but it was the first time they saw one.
“You are the stupidest humans in the world,” lashed out Nearly
Headless Nick.
“This is none of your business,” said the Prime Minster.
“I daresay it is! Headmistress McGonagall said that Voldemort
found a way to transform the power of nuclear plants, whatever they
are, into magical atoms. Can’t you see? Dropping nuclear bombs on
Voldemort is like feeding fresh kills to the wolf!”
The President and the Prime Minister looked at one another.
Neither could speak nor act. The President of France grabbed her cell
phone and nervously dialled the number, hoping she could stop her
Mirages, but it was too late. Voldemort’s velvet shield surrounding the
earth rendered useless all satellites. The die was cast.
*
Asian countries prepared for the worst. It was clear Asian leaders
made a mistake in asking so many people to get out of their houses
simultaneously and head for bomb shelters. Thankfully, pandemonium
did not ensue, local populations having face adversity many times
before. Anyone who could not hide simply stood in the streets, close to
familiar faces, all listening to radios they had been carrying with them.
The Asian leaders felt it best to filter the information and fed the
290
Medias bogus details about Tintagel. Only generals and highest
officials trembled when they heard about Harry Potter’s death.
In North America authorities opted for the opposite approach.
They bargained that pounding the populations with bad news should
stop the local civil wars: their bargain paid off. Every North American
human knew about the decisive battle on the shores of England. The
plague of destruction and death Voldemort’s darkness left seemed a
distant problem. A.M. radio bands had been seized by the
governments to broadcast a minute-to-minute account of the fighting.
North Americans held their breaths as the news of Harry Potter hit the
waves.
South American countries were somehow protected by
geographical elements: informing such disperse and hard to reach
population had not been possible. As a result, peasants were
practicing old magic, lighting up bonfires, praying to ancient gods and
dancing to the skies.
The African continent was the calmest place on the planet. Its
populations, still close to its roots, considered the darkening of the
heavens and the earth’s chaotic activities to be part of the natural flow
of things. They too resorted to old magic; shamanism and village
sorcerers became beacons of hope. They had been kept in the loop
about the wizards-human civil war, but to them, it was nothing new,
they had been practicing magic for thousands of years while fending
off the ever-present invaders.
*
Vernon and Dudley Dursley were in the living room, listening to
the radio. Vernon Dursley was but a shadow of himself, so afraid of his
son and wife he obeyed every order shouted at him. Dudley, who
could easily send his father to hell, was slave to the new power of the
house: his mother.
Like every other European family, the Dursleys heard about the
triumphs then the defeats taking place at Tintagel. The journalists kept
pestering Dudley with news of Harry Potter, who, in his mind, was
responsible for all the woes of the world. He wanted to shout his
anger, but could not: he had been forbidden to open his mouth when
the radio was on.
291
Petunia Dursley sat alone in the kitchen, close enough to the
radio to listen but far enough from Dudley and Vernon to interfere. Her
husband criticized her lack of judgment, abandoning them at such a
bad time. Petunia did not explain herself. She gave strict orders not to
be disturbed and under no circumstances were they to check on her.
Petunia wanted to play scrabble. She lit tree candles, put the
game on the table and set a series of letters on two trays: she played
against herself.
She was half through her third game when the news hit her in the
chest. This was the reason she wanted to be alone: she knew her
reaction would be so violent Dudley and Vernon would mistake it for a
hearth attack.
She held on to the table, trying to catch her breath. There was no
escaping the loud radio, belting out the news: Voldemort was
strangling Harry.
*
Tintagel was immobile, almost frozen in time. Death Eaters,
Dementors, all of Voldemort’s slaves wanted to watch their Master
destroy Humanity’s last hope. Voldemort did not disappoint them.
Yet, killing Harry was an arduous affair having to use only
physical strength since his magic was busy strangling McGonagall
who had survived so far. Minerva McGonagall took her hands away
from the throat and used them to drag herself close to Harry. Her arms
were too weak so she pushed on her legs.
When close enough, she turned to her side and whispered in
Harry’s ear. Voldemort got very curious and released his grip on
Harry, just enough for his victim to hear what the old witch had to say.
“REMEMBER… REMEMBER…”
Harry had enough force in him to turn his eyes towards Professor
McGonagall. She was the shadow; she was the one telling him to
remember. Voldemort’s curiosity was at its peak and he probed
Harry’s mind but could not see what Harry was supposed to
remember.
Harry Potter closed his eyes: he was all instinct. He was told to
love by Dumbledore, to let lose and to love. He was told to remember
by McGonagall, relinquish all control and remember.
292
He was a baby, in his crib: his mother and father looking at him.
He could hear the strange melody but this time, neither his father nor
his mother were singing. He was still a baby; he was rocked in chair
and tucked in the arms of a woman singing to him.
It was Petunia. His aunt Petunia was singing to him.
Bursts of memories resurfaced: Petunia taking his temperature
and sitting next to his bed all night long, Petunia running to his room
when his uncle was out of the house and rocking him in her arms,
Petunia whispering in his ears; “I will hide you. I will hide your from
yourself if I have to.”
This music, this strange melody Petunia sang soothed Harry. His
soul was peaceful and his hearth so calm he had no desire to wake
up.
Voldemort nearly vomited: this was the big secret Harry needed
to remember! He squeezed Harry’s neck. He then stood up, wanting to
offer the best possible spectacle, and extended his right hand towards
Lily and James Potter’s son.
Harry woke up to reality. His was dying: all he could do was push
the last bit of oxygen left in his lungs and scream: “AUNT
PETUNIAAA!”
*
She heard it; she felt it: the pain hit her stomach, her mind but
mostly her soul. Petunia Dursley got up and grabbed the marble roller
always close by on the counter.
She stepped in her garden and stood in the middle of the three
bushes of flowers. She turned to the petunias and yelled “Petunia
Evans.” The petunias burned; she turned to the lilies and shouted “Lily
Evans,” they too went up in flames. Finally, she turned to the
gardenias and said softly; “this is for you mother!”
Petunia yelled; “Gardenia Evans” and the gardenias burned. The
light from the three bushes joined in the middle and propelled Petunia
into the skies. Vernon and Dudley, who heard the back door open,
disobeyed and ran to the kitchen. Petunia was gone but in the back
yard, three bushes of flowers were burning without consuming
themselves.
293
Petunia landed on the outskirts of Tintagel and walked towards
Voldemort. Cadavers flew off her path, Dementors near by exploded
and Death Eaters turned to ashes if they dared attack her.
Voldemort allowed her to come close. He had yet to understand
what that woman was doing. Petunia stopped two feet in front of
Voldemort and threatened him with her marble roller.
The scene was so ridiculous the Dark Lord laughed: the
traditional English maid, running out of the house with her roller,
threatening a poor bloke! Voldemort spread his arms as wide as he
could and, still laughing, screamed.
“COME ONE WOMAN, TAKE YOUR BEST SHOT!”
Petunia did. She pushed the end of her roller into Voldemort’s
stomach then up to the hearth. The roller went in as if the Dark Lord’s
chest was uncooked dough.
Voldemort tried to remove the roller but Petunia pushed it in even
further. Voldemort changed appearances, becoming a vampire, then a
werewolf, followed by so many other creatures onlookers did not
identify half of them. Petunia, unimpressed, focussed on one goal,
pushing the roller.
Voldemort was gone and in his place, a very old Tom Riddle lay
on the ground, dying. Petunia was not fooled; she did not release the
pressure from the roller. Life was all but gone as blood finally flooded
from the Riddle’s hearth.
“HARRY!” shouted McGonagall. “Harry is dead.”
The old witch, free to breath, had immediately turned to Harry
who had not been as lucky as she had. Petunia looked at her nephew
and realized that he truly was dead. Petunia released the pressure on
the roller.
“Bring Harry over here” ordered Petunia to McGonagall.
The old witch obeyed. Petunia took one of Voldemort’s hands
and opened it, showing a scar similar to Harry’s. Tom Riddle, still
alive, had no strength to resist; his hand was put on Harry’s forehead.
“Well uncle! Looks like you’re good for one thing after all,”
Petunia said.
“What are you doing?” Riddle whispered.
“Didn’t you ever ask yourself why you could not kill Harry? What
was that ancient magic Lily used?”
Riddle was starting to understand.
294
“James and Lily were expert with Horcruxes; they discovered
more powerful magic than you could ever have. Horcruxes can also be
created out of love if one sacrifices his life. Lily did. She could have
fought you but instead, she let you kill her so she could save her son.
She did better than to split a soul; she made a copy of it. Yes uncle,
Horcruxes can be whole. I believe all you succeeded was in splitting
yours!”
Tom Riddle felt energy leave his body, his extremities got cold.
“Lily copied Harry’s soul into yours. YOU WERE HARRY’S
HORCRUXE!” Petunia screamed at Riddle, alias Voldemort.
The energy left through Riddle’s hand and entered Harry. The
young man took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
“That’s impossible,” murmured Riddle. “I was alone in the
house…”
“No, your own sister was there. My mother! Gardenia! Merope
had a daughter before you. Merope allowed your father to leave with
her even though she was pregnant with you. My mother always knew
who her parents were but, like so many other bastard children of
aristocratic fathers, she was raised as a maid in her father household.”
“I would have sensed it.”
“Of course not. My mother never used her powers, to you she
would have been another Muggle, and never lowered yourself to be
interested with Muggles. My mother gave up her powers once she
discovered your existence, how vile you were. But powers like hers
cannot disappear, they had to be passed on: to me. I had the powers,
not Lily. It was my mother who put Harry on the sofa, knowing full well
what Lily had done.”
On these last words Tom Riddle died. His eyes stayed opened,
his human body went cold. A battle followed: the remaining evil
soldiers of the Dark Lord’s army were neutralized within minutes.
Harry stood up and looked at his aunt. His friends came out of
their lethargic states. Harry was lost, incapable of feeling or thinking;
he had been wrong all along as much as he had been right.
McGonagall left his side to join Petunia.
“Petunia Evans, you have endured the greatest of pain.”
Harry needed to understand.
“What pain?” screamed Harry. “If you were so powerful, why
didn’t you save my mother?”
295
“Because I told her not to,” McGonagall replied.
Minerva took Petunia’s hand, trying to comfort her.
“I cannot tell you the effect Petunia had on me when I first met
her,” McGonagall said. “I never saw such magical powers. Lily was an
amazing witch but she learned her talents, much like Hermione.
Petunia was something else. Sybil Trelawney and I were in charge of
testing the new students. We were overwhelmed with Petunia and had
to stop when Sybil had a vision: if Petunia used her magic, she would
destroy the world, the ancient blood of Gaunt and all its evil wanted to
come to the surface. No one here can imagine how terrible Petunia
felt. She was just a twelve-year-old girl, the most powerful wizard in
the world, and would have to hide it! Worse, ignore it and pretend it
never existed. How terrible if must have been to see Lily come home
with the praises while you had to step aside. Sybill and I swore we
would never tell a sole, which we did.”
Harry was silent and heartbroken. He stared at his aunt who
looked at him with all the contempt she had been living with.
“I hated James,” Petunia said. “He played with Horcruxes and
didn’t care about the consequences; Lily and James were obsessed
with killing Riddle. How I loathed the day you appeared at my front
door. You were like a dagger in my home. A dagger I could do
anything against because if I used my powers, Riddle would find me
out.”
“Why didn’t my mother know about your mother and Voldemort?”
“Because my mother made me promise not to tell. She knew her
brother was reading minds and she did not want anyone in the
Magical world to have any knowledge of her gifts. She sacrificed me in
a way by telling me everything and giving me her powers but more
importantly, Merope’s wand.”
Petunia caressed her roller; the crowd understood that Petunia
hid the wand in it. Harry did not want to hear anymore, he had enough.
Calm fell on Tintagel. Aurores started to tear away the velvet veil
and rays on sun were coming through.
Petunia lowered her head and cried. Harry walked over, took her
hand but Petunia resisted. He persevered and she slowly opened up,
allowing Harry to hug her.
Hermione and Ron held one another. Mrs. Weasley came down
from the hills and calmed Ginny with a slumbering spell. Neville
296
grabbed Luna’s hand who, for the first time of her life, showed an
emotion: happiness.
“PETUNIA AND HARRY!” shouted McGonagall.
“PETUNIA AND HARRY!” screamed the victorious army.
The cry of joy flew all over the world. Every human got out of his
or her house to celebrate to see darkness recede but most of all shout
to the skies: “PETUNIA AND HARRY!”
At Tintagel, the ground shook: warplanes had launched their
bombs. Petunia simply looked up, pointed the wand at the sky and
every bomb vanished. Harry understood what McGonagall meant
when saying that his aunt could do things no one else could.
Petunia and Harry let go of their embrace. Turning to the
hysterical crowd, they did what heroes do: they raised their hands and
waved.
297
Epilogue
“That’s not a word!”
Petunia Dursley put the dictionary down: Harry would have to
come up with something English. Scrabble was not to be tempered
with.
“How’s Ginny?” Petunia said, playing with her letters.
“She will be fine. She’s already writing me letters.”
Harry put a five-letter word on the board. He did not score high
points but at least it was an English word. She added his points and
followed his five-letter word with a seven-letter one.
Harry sighed; he had been trying to beat her at scrabble for
weeks. This game would end like all the others; he would have the
pitiful score.
“Dudley and Uncle Vernon sure are loving the spotlight.”
“They deserve it,” Petunia replied, eyes fixed on the board.
Harry was referring to the hundredth interview his uncle and
cousin were given to journalists on the front lawn. Four Privet drive
was more famous than ten Downing Street. It was declared royal
ground by the queen and all the neighbours had to leave their house,
which they would have anyway since the area was under constant
attack by journalists and fans.
“So, what will you do now?” asked Petunia.
“Become an Aurore, though there is no need for them anymore.”
Harry put a seven-letter word on the table.
“HARRY POTTER!” shouted Petunia.
She looked at the letters and burned them from a wink of her left
eye: he had used magic to come up with a record high word. Harry put
his hand in the bag of letters and picked seven new ones, knowing
that he would find another stupid word.
“Don’t be so sure about not needing Aurores anymore,” Petunia
said looking at Harry’s three letter word.
*
298
In a suburb of Sydney, Australia, a woman was sitting at the
welfare office with her newborn baby girl. The welfare officer had been
trying to help the woman for weeks but she always refused.
“What is it this time,” asked the welfare officer annoyed.
“I want to register my baby.”
“Nobody registers babies! I swear, sometimes I think you came
from under a rock.”
“The community nurse told me I need papers for my baby’s
name.”
The welfare officer was so exasperated she did not bother to
argue. She took out a form for newborns and asked the question since
the woman in front of her was illiterate.
“Father’s name?”
“Tom Riddle.”
“Mother’s name?”
“Bellatrix Lestrange.”
“Baby’s name?”
“Merope…. just like her grand-mother.”

well, HAgrid was killed by Snape, and Hermine( again if thats how you spell it) was killed by voldemort- she saved Ron’s life after dueling Voldemort….

Anyways, you have to read the rest of the book to find out more…….ENjoy it! =)

well, HAgrid was killed by Snape, and Hermine( again if thats how you spell it) was killed by voldemort- she saved Ron’s life after dueling Voldemort….

Anyways, you have to read the rest of the book to find out more…….ENjoy it! =)

The title of this boook is awesome and I know at least a quite of few people die. But I can’t wait till Harry and Voldemort fight it’s gonna be awesome. I don’t think Harry dies but you never know what can happen he might not die and I hope he doesn’t. I can’t wait till the book comes out so I can finally read it. It’s gonna be f***ing awesome.

Oh my gosh this book is going to be soooo awesome and I can’t wait till the 7 book comes out. I can’t wait and find out who dies in this book and who hools up along the way. It’s gonna be f***ing awesome. The title is really great can’t wait.

in the seventh book many thing will happen first harry will go back to the dursley untill he is of age because he promised dumbeldore then he will join hermionie and ron at bill and flure’s wedding then the trio will go on there dangerous journey to distroy the horcuxes first he will go to goldrec hollows to see his parents grave he will probly find somthing important there i also think that hufflepuff’s cup is there to one of voldemorts horcuxes he will go throu the obstcle and distroy it. then if harry believes it than the locket is already distroyed by R.A.B. so that leaves the snakes and somthing from gryffindor or ravenclaw i dont no where it mite be but i think it might be somthing from ravenclaw because the only known item of gryffindor is in hogwarts harry will probly distroy it the snake will be last because the snake is close to voldemort i think it will be the easyest to distroy then harry will face voldemort one last time he probly will die distroying voldemort and also to save his friends after that i think harry will be laided to rest and ron and hermionie will fall in love and everyone will remember harry as the boy who lived, the chosen one, the one who risked all, and the one that brought down the dark lord.