A heated end to the war

Part 1 (of 4)

As he walked through the Forbidden Forest towards where Voldemort was waiting, Harry thought back on everything that had brought him here. This had always been his fate after all - to fulfill the prophecy. Months of Horcrux-hunting together with Ron and Hermione... and oh, how he had envied his friends during those months. Both could happily say that they were betas, unlike him. The Boy-Who-Lived just had to be an omega. If only luck could stay on his side instead of sweeping in whenever he found himself in life-threatening situations... but as luck would have it, he had repressed his heat for half a year and had grown resistant to the heat repressing potion. He wouldn't be able to take it again until after the residue had washed out with a heat cycle... which happened to have started just hours ago. Harry had tried taking the potion, hoping to repress his heat for a seventh month, but had only ended up feeling sick. Instead, he had masked his scent to keep the unmated alphas on the battlefield away from him. The spell must still be going strong he noted, when Yaxley and Dolohov pointed their lightened wands in his direction. With the strong scent of an omega in heat masked and with his invisibility cloak hiding him, he was impossible to find as he stood still in the darkness.

The Death Eaters talked quietly to themselves, mumbling about if they had heard an animal or not. They stopped first when Yaxley looked down at his watch. Harry's hour was up. He followed the two men towards a clearing. There was a fire burning in the middle, and in the light he could see web remains and more Death Eaters. What a lovely place to die... Harry thought, as he stepped into the clearing. He must have been lost in thought as he looked around, because suddenly Voldemort's high, clear voice broke the silence.

"I thought he would come. I expected him to come."

Harry watched the Elder Wand between Voldemort's long, thin fingers with some fascination as the man talked.

"I was, it seems... mistaken." Voldemort continued. Harry finally broke from his weird trance and pulled of the invisibility cloak. The Resurrection Stone had since long slipped from his fingers unnoticed.

"You weren't."

Harry said it as loudly as he could, with all the force he could muster: he did not want to sound afraid. It was hard to hide how his heart thumped in his chest, not only at the thought that he was the Boy-Who-Lived that had walked willingly into the Dark's claws, but also an unmated omega in heat surrounded by betas and alphas, most bigger or stronger than him. He took a deep, calming breath and stepped forward into the firelight. Nobody mattered but him and Voldemort. It was just the two of them.

The illusion was gone as soon as it had come. He watched how Voldemort's nostrils flared - which was quite the feat with a mostly nonexistent nose Harry had to admit, heard the giants roar, and the cries, gasps and laughter from the Death Eaters. Voldemort had frozen where he stood, but his red eyes had found Harry, and he stared as Harry moved towards him, with nothing but the fire between them. Harry could hear Hagrid yelling from a nearby tree, until Rowle silenced him. Harry kept his gaze on Voldemort, everything else melting into the background. Voldemort tilted his head a little to the side, considering the boy standing before him, and a single mirthless smile curled the lipless mouth.

"Harry Potter." he said, very softly. "The boy who lived."
None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: everything was waiting.

Voldemort had raised his hand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted whatever would happen to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before his spell lost strength, before he showed his condition-
He saw the hand come down hard on his shoulder and felt a familiar press from all directions and iron bands around his chest. They disapparated.