Harry looked out the weathered window of the Leaky Cauldron. His dulled over green eyes barely registered his surroundings. A lone grey cat slithered its way out of an abandoned London alleyway its scruffy tail flicking as it trotted down the road. Harry’s eyes limbered over an old lady who slowly hobbled her way down to the corner grocery store.
Turning from the window he walked over to his bed a few feet away. His living-quarters where shabby, it consisted of an old wooden bedside table that had seen better days. The overhead light flickered in at three-second intervals, the bed squeaked under his weight and he could feel the lumps throughout the bed. The floorboards where loose and Harry would see mice running around on a regular basis.
The Leaky Cauldron wasn’t always like this though; it once had been a great homey little place. If compared to a muggle hotel it would probably have been about a 4 star. But people had stopped coming as the war got more intense. Few wizards ever came out of hiding anymore and even fewer where actually trying to stop the war. More and more wizards turned dark because dark for once overpowered light. Tom the keeper was gone in place was a suspicious looking hag. The place was a dump but that was tolerable because it was never used anymore.
Harry groaned silently as he remembered the many years he, Hermione, and Ron and went searching for the horocruxes. They wasted so much time away in their futile attempts. Only to loose his two best friends in the process. No longer did he have aid, he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and he was clueless on how to save it.
Everyone thought he was the boy who could do it. But Harry had this feeling inside him that he wasn’t made for the job anymore. It had been 7 years since Hogwarts, seven long and wretched years. Hearing about deaths from left right and centre. Seeing Neville getting admitted to St Mungo’s alongside with his parents. Or how Fred had disappeared from the shop one day only to find him a few weeks later dead on the corner of a street with horrifying looking gashes and bruises all over his body. Mrs. Weasley had been tortured and Arthur had been killed in front of his wife. Ginny was in hiding somewhere in America and George was in his apartment hoping the Death Eaters would finish him off. Seamus turned dark along side with Terry Boot and Susan Bones.
Harry himself had evaded death being barely a step ahead of those who chased him. He had only managed to destroy one of the horocruxes so far other then the diary and locket that was at the Orders headquarters. Right now he was hiding out hoping that no one would find him as he tried to heal from the last duel he had with a Death Eater.
He thought it was silly to think that one boy only 24 years of age could defeat someone as awful as Voldemort. After all that Voldemort accomplished, was it possible to form a world where there was peace?
He knew he wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Yet everyone who was still alive was holding onto the dying hope that he could bring around the peace they all craved for. Was he capable of doing it? He had his doubts and his qualms after seeing all he cared for slowly get wiped out by Voldemorts wrath. He no longer had his second family they had almost all been taken care of, he barely had anyone to fight for anymore.
Ducking into a vacant alley Harry pulled out his tattered wand, keeping alert for any unnatural sounds he crept down the lane. Reaching the end he peeked his head out of the alleyway. A small girl pointed to his face and pulled on her mothers robes.
“Mummy! Look it’s Harry Potter!” She squealed in delight, Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. Even in such times he couldn’t go anywhere without people ogling him. It was as if he was the muggle hero named superman. Harry couldn’t stand how no one seemed to be used to his presence after 14 years of being in the wizarding world. But every time someone seemed to notice him creeping about they would make some sort of scene and he was plain sick of it. He was only a boy who would rather just be treated like everyone else.
He wasn’t anything unusual; it was sheer dumb luck he had made it out alive when Voldemort killed his parents. He didn’t know any magic nor he hadn’t been anything exceptional. The only reason people idolized him now was because he was “The Chosen One.” He remembered Ron saying he would give anything to be in Harry’s spot. Harry had nearly punched Ron in the face for saying that. Ron always thought it would be easy to get all the attention, but it wasn’t. It was hard having everyone’s hopes depend on him alone. Knowing that if you botched, you wouldn’t only fall short for yourself, but for everyone else in the world.
Harry passed the girl and her mother quickly and headed down the avenue. There on the hill stood a huge house with vines growing up the side from age. The house itself seemed to emit evilness around it keeping unwanted guests away.
This was the Riddle house, where the cup of Hufflepuff was supposed to be kept. That’s what Hermione had figured out before she also suffered her demise. Creeping up the desolate place Harry waited for something to happen. He waited for the Death Eaters to surround him and finally he would fall. But as the minuets ticked by not a sound stirred around the place.
Scurrying across the yard he crouched down by the door taking a careful step he swing the door open, it creaked on its hinges. Harry stepped into the house barely making a sound. Breathing deeply he remembered Hermione’s words-
“You’ll find the cup in a place that he never called a home. It’ll be deep and buried in a room he called a cell.”
Harry only hoped that he could find the right room. As Harry crept across the dusty carpet he was unaware of the eyes that watched him slowly make his way up the stairs.
He entered the first room to the left; the air smelt dank and there was a small telltale leak in one of the uncovered pipes. Spots of mould had popped up around the leak as well. Harry could easily have reason to believe that this room itself was a cell for it had bars on the windows and it locked from the outside instead of the in. But Harry thought that when Hermione said that the room was like a cell Harry had grounds to believe that it wasn’t supposed to mean literally. Departing from the room Harry swiftly made his way down the hallway being careful enough to not unsettle the growing dust.
Hearing a subtle creak behind him Harry whipped around his green eyes taking in every detail. Nothing looked disturbed at all. Thinking that maybe someone was under an invisibility cloak Harry whispered a curse he learned to unveil the person. When nothing appeared Harry just threw off his suspicions as him being overly paranoid. No one knew where he was he knew that for sure. He had been careful when getting here he always was.
Harry fell to his knees as an all to familiar pain hit him in the back.
“Not to careful now are we Potter?” A dry voice laughed from behind him, Harry couldn’t reply for he was biting so hard on his bottom lip that it drew blood. He couldn’t cry out, it would only provoke the Death Eater more. “Ah trying to be tough now Potter?” Came the snarling voice. “Come on just cry out and I’ll stop.” He goaded, the pain, if possible intensified. Harry held strong, not matter how much he wanted to just let go and scream like a banshee.
Harry Potter was a hero he kept telling himself as a variety of different pain intensifying curses hit him. He must never quit till he’s dead. What seemed like hours he fell to the ground in a heap, the pain stopped. He felt his eye lids flicker before darkness engulfed him entirely.
Feeling the sharp coldness of the ground underneath his back Harry didn’t dare move. Nor could he if he tried. The consistent throbbing pain he felt course through his body was enough to keep him still.
Hearing a low murmur of voices he tried opening his eyes, but was surprised to find that they seemed to be glued shut. If only he could open his eyes he could see where he was. If he could open his eyes he could remember exactly why he was laying in pain on a stone floor.
After much concentration Harry figured that his eyes were only closed by crusted blood and not actually by glue has he ad originally thought. Slowly working on freeing his eyelids from his own blood he felt the tension lessen each time he tried opening his eyes. This wouldn’t be so bothersome if I could just move me arms. Harry thought annoyed that his arms felt like lead, actually come to think about it, his arms seemed to be tied behind his back.
Finally his eyes squinted open, crusts of blood feel into his eyes making them itch. Feebly trying to shake his head to clear his blurry vision. All he seen the stale darkness surrounding him. The voices he heard seemed to get quieter as he tried twisting his head around only to find that pain shot up his neck when he tried. Groaning softly to himself he laid still.
“Ahh so I see you are finally awake?” A cruel voice slithered. Harry recognized the cold daunting voice; it belonged to Voldemort himself. Harry felt his bindings suddenly vanish from his legs and hands. “Get up!” He snarled Harry felt Voldemort kick his ribs impatiently. Harry slowly lifted himself trying to ignore the stinging pain he felt discharge all across his body.
Holding onto a gasp Harry finally dragged himself up to his feet. The room was suddenly lit with an eerie dull green glare. Harry stand to face the snake like man. The green light seemed to enhance Voldemorts skin tone to a ghostly pale shade. Holding back a shudder Harry looked straight into his enemy’s blood red eyes. “I’ve been dancing with you far to long Potter.” Voldemort said while taking out his wand.
“So you’re going to kill me?” Harry said bringing back some of his bravado. “Not even let me fight for my own life?” He said noticing that they had taken his wand.
“You should know by now Potter that I don’t show mercy.” He spat out. Harry inwardly agreed. He knew this was it; he had always been rubbish at no wand magic.
“You’re complete tripe.” Harry angrily called out to Voldemort. “You know you couldn’t kill me if I had my wand so you take it to kill me the easy way. I never thought of you as a coward.” Before he could even finish his sentence Harry was again hit with the all too recognizable curse that brought along quite a bit of pain.
“Do not insult me Potter! You will be sorry you did. Pettigrew bring her out!” Voldemort screamed while lifting the curse. A short and chubby man came into the room holding tightly onto a squirming girl. Harry’s eyes widened at the sight of her, her once shimmering, thick brown hair was matted and her face was smeared with bruises and dirt.
“Hermione?” Harry said in surprise, she was dead, that was what Lupin said he saw anyway.
“Harry! Let them kill me! Don’t…” But whatever she was going to say was muffled by Wormtails hand covering her mouth.
“Now Potter, it’s either you help us, or we kill her.” Harry looked over at his best friend his head still spinning in shock of her still being alive. He remembered clearly Lupin saying he seen the Death Eaters torture her and then use the killing curse. But even though, he knew he couldn’t let them kill her, nor would he ever help them. “You haven’t got all day Potter,” Voldemort sneered raising his wand and pointing it at Hermione. Harry looked back over at Hermione who was trying to squirm away from Pettigrew.
Just before Voldemort released the killing words from his mouth Harry stopped him.
“What do you want with me?” Harry asked resignedly. Love had been his weakness; he couldn’t be the reason Hermione died. Voldemort let out a triumphant howl and made Harry take the unbreakable vow.
“Ah I knew you’d see it my way.” Voldemort nodded after they had finished. Nodding to Wormtail the man dragged Hermione out of the room. Harry narrowed his eyes.
“What are you doing with her?” He demanded. Voldemort smiled maliciously.
“That dear mudblood? You didn’t think we’d let her live did you? But now you must do as I say or die yourself. You and along with the rest of you precious world.”
“You cannot do that! You are in the vow as well, you will die if you kill her.” That is where the dark lord coldly gave Harry a pat on the shoulder.
“I cannot die Harry be sure to remember that. And in the vow I said I would not lay a hand on that stinking wretched being. But Wormtail is very willing to do my work for me.” Harry glared at Voldemort but inwardly he was trouncing himself for his own stupidity. He had signed Hermione’s death. “No use blaming yourself boy, she would have died either way. But I counted out your weakness; your love for your friends is your downfall. Now Harry on to the fun business…” Before Voldemort could finish Harry did something that was both very dumb and very bold at the same time. Harry jumped Voldemort and wrapped his fingers around his throat. Voldemort laughed and without as much as lifting a finger Harry went crashing into a wall opposite. His head hit against the stone splitting open. Harry could feel the blood mixed with sweat drip down the back of his skull. Voldemort advanced on him dangerously his wand held out in front of him. Harry was crouched on all fours coughing from the impact he had with the wall.
“You’re disgusting.” Harry glared up at Voldemorts towering figure. Voldemorts red eyes flamed in anger and he kicked Harry in the ribs. Harry fell flat on the ground a new coughing spell overtook him. This time spasms of blood came with it as well. Voldemort laughed vindictively.
“Good-bye Potter. You gave up your chance to live.” Harry watched as Voldemort lifted his wand. He knew what was coming next, the end to the wizarding world. It was all gone. Hope, love and peace where being whipped out with two simple, but deadly words. Harry couldn’t help but think he’d rather be dead then helping Voldemort carry out his deeds.
“Avada Kedava.” Where the last words our hero Harry Potter heard before blackness engulfed him.
Authors Note: There, the rewrite of I'm Not Superman. Hopefully it is better then the first. And hopefully you all don't hate me too much for killing off our hero before he saved the world. Do drop a line to tell me what you thought of it. The Good, Bad, and ugly is always welcome.