Harry Potter and the Rise of the Phoenix

It had been a long four or five hours, that was all Harry had to say at the moment. Things were in one of the lulls, a breather period in the battle when everyone just moved slower, giving Healers on both sides time to work and everyone else a chance to catch their breaths. It didn't mean Harry and his guard were safe; Death Eaters were still attacking, but it was easier to block curses when they came one at a time instead of twenty at a time.

Harry had had it easier than those surrounding him. Though he would shoot curses and shields out occasionally, it was his job to try and get them to Voldemort while everyone else worked on keeping the group intact and alive.

He would need as much of his strength as possible to fight Voldemort once they reached the monster. At that point, his guard would keep Death Eaters from interfering, if they even dared. Harry hoped they wouldn't. They hadn't last Saturday, and they hadn't back at the graveyard fourth year. They were being a pain now, though, that was for sure. Every time Harry had felt sure his group was about to break through, one of the Auror squads guarding the entrances would falter and Death Eaters would stream in, coming in between Harry and his goal once more.

At least, with his position at the center of the group, Harry was able to keep tabs on the battle occurring all around him. Ginny was fighting towards the far end of the cathedral, trying to get back to them. Her luck was as good as theirs, for to get to them, she had to go past Voldemort. The Death Eaters weren't going to let that happen.

If we'd known there'd be this much room inside the cathedral, we'd have brought our brooms, Harry thought bitterly. Then Ginny could dodge spells and get back to the group, back to him. He'd feel better if she was back with them, back watching his backside. He chuckled softly.

Tonks was over to the right somewhere, commanding a group of Aurors. Harry doubted she was going to work her way back to them. It seemed that this group of Aurors was doing a good job at thinning out the Death Eater population inside the cathedral and they were looking to her for instructions.

He had even caught sight of Celeste Blackstone once or twice. It hadn't surprised him, actually. Though he'd told her to stay where they'd found her, he knew that to truly cover her ass where Voldemort was concerned, the monster would have to see her fighting. Just taking out random "bad guys" from outside wouldn't cover it. She'd have to come inside the cathedral. At least he hadn't seen her do anything too horrible.

Thia hadn't been visible for a while, but that didn't surprise Harry. She would be in the thick of things, with loads of Death Eaters between her and him. At least that's what he kept telling himself. After all, Ginny and Tonks would disappear for times as well. He kept the tiny bit of doubt pushed down, ignoring the voice that reminded him that it'd been hours, not minutes since he'd last seen her.

Hermione cursed as a stray spell slashed across her front, cutting her open horizontally near the bottom of her ribs. The spell spun her around, and she folded up around the wound. Harry moved to fill her spot automatically before the Death Eaters ruined their formation.

"Severus, step into the middle, and heal her," he commanded. "Remus shift over and fill Severus's spot. Group, hold ground and protect them." The group moved quickly, filling in their gap. Harry cursed the Death Eater who was going to attack a distracted Remus, causing the enemy wizard to fall over, unconscious. Remus smiled his thanks and hexed a Death Eater over Harry's shoulder.

The battle started to pick up once again, Harry carefully hexing, cursing, and jinxing his enemies. He made sure that none of his stray spells hit the Aurors or anyone wearing a white robe. He also blocked spells heading towards his group, either with another spell or a shield. With his full concentration on the battle and staying alive and protecting Severus and Hermione, he wasn't able to prevent Voldemort from stealing magic.

He hated dropping the spells covering the area keeping Voldemort from misusing the Theory of Greats, but with his concentration split between so many things, something had to give. He dropped them. Glancing over at Voldemort, he saw the glee come over the monster's face that let Harry know he knew that he could steal away magic.

"Ugh," Hermione complained. "That's nasty!"

"Drink it all!" Severus ordered her quietly. "It'll replenish your blood."

Harry smiled at his friends and turned back to the Death Eater currently trying to bash his brains in with a crushing spell.

Draco Malfoy stared down at the battle from his vantage point in the choir loft, running along one side of the cathedral. The other loft on the opposite side of the building had not lasted the centuries of neglect and the one he stood in now was not particularly safe. He smirked as the Know-It-All got some of what she deserved. Severus moved at Potter's orders and started to heal the Mudblood.

He spat at the floor near his feet.

Why had Severus thrown his lot in with Scarhead's? Draco understood the lessons Severus had taught him all his life. Power gained in servitude wasn't true power. But, it seemed that Severus had switched one master for another.

Something Draco would never forgive him for.

Spotting his company—Death Eaters who had sworn to follow him, some even in blood, start to move into their places—Draco smiled and went to the stairs. Thirty-three Death Eaters had turned against Voldemort and were about to turn the battle in Harry Potter's favor. Thirty-two Death Eaters had turned to him for leadership, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing aloud.

Cursing an Auror who got in his way, he smiled as he remembered how Terry and Celeste had taken his command. They'd been the last to find out because they were too close to Voldemort to learn until a few hours ago. He had released them from stunners and informed them just what he had planned. Celeste had smiled her slow smile of delight while Terry had glared at him. He blamed her bad temper on her ruined eye.

He joined the largest group, moving into a circle around their "Lord" to "protect" him from the Aurors and Harry Potter—rather, they moved to serve up the half-blood as the main course to Harry Potter. Twenty-two of them had sworn with blood magic, the other eight had made oaths. Terry and Celeste, who were still fighting to reach him, had more to risk in this charade than the others, as they were Voldemort's present favorites. Too bad the half-blood didn't take care of his servants properly; otherwise, Draco wouldn't have been able to turn even one of these against him.

Not that Draco had informed Scarhead about this part of his plans. It had been nearly suicide walking through Hogwarts gate as it was. It would have been suicide to inform them that he had over thirty Death Eaters ready to betray Voldemort, ready to hand him over for them to dispose of. Severus would have seen right off that these thirty-two Death Eaters must serve him.

Maybe he should have pretended to be a simple messenger, Draco thought idly as he hexed an Auror who got too close. No, Severus wouldn't have believed it. If the likes of Nott Sr., Avery, McNair, and even his Aunt Bella hadn't turned throughout their years of loyal service (many of those years in Azkaban for some of them), then they wouldn't now.

No, he'd have seen that someone new to the fold—and yet not completely new, because the thirty would have to trust him—had to be at the center. Someone with the brains and a grudge large enough to risk it. Someone just like him. Severus would have thought of all of that and known it was him.

Not to mention, Pansy, Gregory, Vincent, and the others of their circle who were such devotedly blind Death Eaters-to-be wouldn't have been swayed easily. Voldemort hadn't disappointed them yet. Draco was the only one, besides their parents, who could sway them. Sure, Crabbe Sr. and Goyle Sr. were both among his thirty-two, but Severus would have known that neither man had the brains to take over.

Finally, the last two made it to his side. Terry and Celeste flanked him, completing the circle. The Dark Lord felt safe enough to start shouting hexes at the Aurors. Draco smirked and nodded his head as his right-hand gals returned deadly smiles of their own.

The last of the summer evening's light filtered through the windows, blood red where it shone through empty windows and oddly tainted colors through those still filled with stained glass.

"Morsmordre!" Draco intoned, his wand pointing towards the high ceiling, where the roof had collapsed leaving it open to the sky above. All thirty-three of the surrounding Death Eaters started to attack the faithful, Celeste, Draco, and Terry creating a pathway for Scarhead and his guard to approach.

They moved cautiously, Potter once more in the middle, expecting some trick. Potter's eyes were focused on the glittering Dark Mark above their heads, the sinuous snake slithering and twining around the skull with the gathering storm clouds giving it a perfectly sinister background.

Draco had planned on Scarhead being wary.

"Come on, you fools!" he shouted, glaring at Severus in particular. "You always told me a true Slytherin made his own fortune and power!"

His Godfather looked at him, obviously startled, but whispered something to Scarhead. When Severus turned his eyes back to him, Draco was stunned by the coldness in them. They were even colder than when he and Potter had invaded his mind looking for tricks.

Draco forced himself not to gulp; instead, he looked back, confident.

Severus knew the trick now.

He knew what Draco's life's goal was, and he was not pleased. Draco didn't care what the traitor thought; he would accomplish his goal.

Potter and his precious guard moved forward more quickly now, arriving to them in only a matter of minutes, gaining the ground they'd been fighting for all afternoon and evening. As Draco and Celeste moved closer to Terry to make room for Potter's guard among the circle, Draco scanned behind him. He'd been expecting Voldemort to turn on them, attacking his traitorous Death Eaters. But he hadn't. The look back showed him a very frustrated wizard muttering some incantation that seemed to be failing.

"It won't work, Tom," Potter said from right next to Draco. The blond met his temporary ally's eyes and grinned. Harry blinked, startled, and grinned back.

The grin surprised him; Draco hadn't thought the Gryffindor golden boy could look so ruthless. Harry had grown up even more since December, and he was a trained killer now. He knew what he had to do, and he was ready. It gave Draco hope. The hardest part of the plan was accepting that a Gryffindor would be the one to kill Voldemort.

"It won't work because I've blocked you once more," Potter taunted, eyes still locked with Draco's, and he was using a voice Draco knew quite well from their Quidditch days, one filled with contempt and bravado. Scarhead turned back towards Voldemort, and Draco followed the other's approaching steps towards Voldemort. "Grown accustomed to stolen magic, have you, Tom? How are you going to fight without your crutch? Ardent!" the Gryffindor shouted just as Voldemort raised his wand to attack.

"Face out, ferret!" the Weasel ordered. Draco glared across Celeste at the redhead, but did as he was told. It had been the order he'd given those following him after all. It was just grinding to find himself allied with Weasel and the Mudblood. Severus was one thing, even Potter who was obviously the future's Albus Dumbledore. They were strong wizards, powerful. Weasel was anything but.

"This will be the end!" Voldemort spat behind them. "Your end, Harry Potter. You've been a thorn in my side for far too long!"

"Funny, I was thinking that of you, myself," Harry said, his mocking smile evident in his voice. Draco did have to give Potter credit for his courage, idiotic as it was. Only a fool with excessive amounts of courage would taunt the cruelest and vilest human being of the century right before they dueled to the death. "One way or the other, this will be the end."

Draco shivered involuntarily as Potter's last two words seemed to echo in the quiet before the storm.

A very soft and distant rumble of thunder filled the silence as night came on. The sun was so fully below the horizon now that only the dimmest of lights shone in the west. The fighting had stopped when the Dark Mark had risen, began for the few minutes it took for Harry to join them, and had stopped once more. Everyone watched those at the center of the cathedral, watched the two at the center of the ring of Death Eaters and Order members.

Those last two words echoed with a certainty that felt prophetic.

It chilled Draco to the bone.

George glanced around the clearing at his group of fighters, the setting sun a bloody red in the west, the east shrouded in the black of storm clouds. He had kept one eye on the approaching storm all afternoon. The oppressive humidity seemed to weigh down on their arms even as the exhaustion of battle descended on them. Shouts, screams, and commands reached their ears in a jumbled mess as the acrid smoke from whatever had blown up behind them burned their noses. George had never smelt anything more disgusting than this foul smoke, and he'd smelt some nasty things during his years of experimentation with Fred.

They were near the main part of the battle taking place in the cleared ground surrounding the cathedral. He and his group had spent the whole afternoon and evening clearing out the forest, keeping Death Eaters from attacking the back of their army. Melita and Mina sat back to back, resting nearest to him. Katie Bell sat with her back to a tree, and her uncle Sturgis Podmore, stood next to her, his shoulder leaning against the tree as well.

Everyone had fought like animals all afternoon, with little rest. George had been forced to heal all of them at some point during the long hours since they'd arrived and he'd taken charge. He wished Fred, Angelina, and Dung were still with them. It would make him feel better.

At least Remus had taken him aside back at Hogwarts and told George that Tonks had warned him about their group's Aurors, saying they were hot-blooded fools. George had listened carefully as Remus detailed the group's responsibilities just in case. And sure enough, at the first sound of serious battle, the two Aurors had run off, leaving their group in shambles trying to follow. That's when the other three had disappeared.

So, though George would have rather searched for his twin, they hadn't. They had cleared the forest of the Death Eater scum, while keeping a watchful eye out for the missing three. They'd run into other groups doing the same sweep. It'd been almost an hour since their last run in with the enemy, only twenty minutes of it spent resting in this clearing. Looking up, George realized the sun was almost completely down. It was time to be on their way.

Distant thunder rumbled, making the others look up as well. George stood straight, twisting his sore back and grimacing as several loud pops sounded.

"Time to be off," he ordered, surprised yet again when the others hurried to get ready. He still wasn't used to his orders being followed so readily. Fred had always complained, as had even Katie, Melita, and Mina back in the days before this. He knew Mina wanted to find Fred as bad as he, but she hadn't said a word about it.

They were south of the cathedral, so George set off north, the others fanning out in a V behind him. It was how they'd traveled all afternoon, and they were all comfortable with the formation. Looking up and north, he felt an icy coldness flow through his veins, making him shiver. The Dark Mark glittered above the spot where he suspected the cathedral lay. He hoped it didn't mean Voldemort had overcome all of Harry's training and defense.

He hoped to Merlin it didn't mean Harry was dead.

He wished he had all his siblings, younger and older, adopted and blood, nearby. Nothing like family to watch your back and to watch over, and he would know Harry's fate as soon as it happened that way. At least Mum was at Hogwarts, helping McGonagall organize Hogwarts' defenses. She was good in a fight, he'd learnt that last spring, but he would have still worried. It was bad enough without Dad and now Percy and Charlie.

He mentally shook his mind clear of thoughts like those and focused on the nearing sounds of battle. It would be hard enough fighting in the near darkness without distracting thoughts like that racing through his mind.

"Morsmordre!"

Ginny turned towards Draco's unmistakable drawl and felt her jaw drop. Those fighting with her turned as well, watching the Dark Mark appear in the sky above them. Voldemort stood at the center of a circle of Death Eaters who appeared to be handing Voldemort over to Harry. Draco shouted something, a clue or cue for Severus it seemed, because the group moved forward with confidence after that.

Draco seemed to be at the head of the traitorous scum. It didn't surprise her one bit.

"Expelliarmus!" she said as the Death Eaters, apparently loyal Death Eaters, unfroze from their shock so that they could try to keep Harry from reaching his goal and his allies from reaching him. A stunning spell finished the man off. Ginny dueled with yet another Death Eater, wishing the Aurors around her would help her reach Harry. They had their orders, and she knew better than to ask them to disobey, but it still irked her.

Harry reached Voldemort, and the battle slowed once more as everyone turned to face what was going on now. Harry gave Voldemort his normal cheek, making Ginny smile despite the situation.

She brushed aside a lock of bloodied hair that kept falling into her eyes. Towards the beginning of the long battle inside the cathedral, a Death Eater had made her fly all the way across the inside, giving her loads of time to turn and cast a cushioning charm to soften her fall. It had kept her alive, even if it hadn't cushioned her fall enough to keep from opening her scalp. She'd been able to heal it before the startled Death Eaters around her realized she was still alive.

Harry's last words rippled among the Death Eaters, causing what seemed to be a shockwave of terror. "The end" was a scary thought, no matter who won. It would be an uphill battle afterwards, no matter what the outcome.

Ginny felt an urgent need to be near Harry, as the two enemies started dueling properly, and she growled at the Death Eaters who moved between her and him. It was almost like they had orders specifically to keep them apart.

She blasted the nearest group apart with a gust of wind and ran into the empty space. A Death Eater tried to curse her, but she placed a shield in time to block it. A nasty hex George had taught her had the man curled up around his middle in agony. The nearest Death Eaters—all men—moved out of her way before she could hex them with it.

A female Death Eater stepped forward, giving the men disgusted glares, and aimed at Ginny. Ginny had already cast her patented Bat-Bogey curse, and the woman shrieked as booger dripping bats started to fly out of her nose to attack her face. The spell might be a simple petty child's curse, but with the right amount of power and motivation, it could be deadly—not to mention satisfying.

Two more Death Eaters fell to that fate. She tried it a fourth time, but the Death Eater was ready and blocked it. He tried to kill her, but she ducked out of the way in time, hexing as she went down. He started skipping on one foot as he clutched painfully stubbed toes. Fred had taught her that one. She stunned him as well.

Ginny stood, stunning a Death Eater who was distracted by an Auror's spell. The Auror glared at her before attacking another Death Eater. Ginny rolled her eyes at the arrogant woman, and turned back to look for Harry.

Just then, a clear path opened, giving Ginny a view of the two dueling. It didn't seem that they were fighting at a mental level yet; in fact, Ginny doubted either had tried using Legilimency. She knew Harry had planned on waiting some time before trying, wanting to wear the other down physically first.

A Death Eater moved into her view, already incanting a spell Ginny was sure would take her out of the battle, probably for good. She dove to her left, right into the arrogant Auror. They fell to the ground in a tangle, the Auror swearing about "bumbling civilians" and tangling them up even more. The spell had turned out to be the Killing Curse, and it flew through the air where Ginny had been and hit an Auror who'd been fighting behind her. She and the larger, heavier woman fought to get free of one another, only managing to get in the other's way.

A curse hit the spot where her head had been only moments before, making Ginny gulp. She could smell the metallic scent of the spell, her head was still that close. Thoroughly fed up with the Auror, she pulled her left arm out from between the woman's arm and body, losing her wand at the same time. She pushed with both hands, finally freeing herself. She quickly righted herself and then bent to pick up her wand.

When she straightened, she was surprised to find her eyes locked with Harry's. She watched them go wide right before the spell hit her in the back.

"Crucio!" Voldemort cast at Harry during his moment of distraction. Had Harry been capable of conscious thought at the moment, he would have cursed himself for letting even Ginny's predicament distract him from his duel.

But he wasn't able to form even a pretense of one conscious thought.

Pain laced his limbs, shot through every nerve ending, overloading his brain with the sensations. Memories from the past, memories of the Graveyard fourth year, of Malfoy Manor last summer, came to mind, lending their pain to the present. The spell was lifted, but the memories remained.

"Kill the spare."

Voldemort rising from the cauldron.

"You are my guest."

"Just kill him."

He was aware of a fight, but only dimly. He swallowed and used every ounce of his will to shove the memories aside with Occlumency. He shoved them back to the hidden corner of his mind where they belonged and then picked himself up off the ground.

He winced as his knees protested. He must have hit them on his way down, slamming them into the uneven stone tiles of the floor. Blood ran into his eye from a cut on one of his eyebrows. He cursed as he realized that Shacklebolt had come to his rescue and now needed rescuing himself. A quickly muttered spell stopped his eyebrow bleeding, and then he hexed Voldemort, grinning when the spell scored a hit.

Not allowing himself to be distracted, Voldemort cast the Killing Curse. It hit Kingsley Shacklebolt with unerring accuracy. Harry watched as Shacklebolt's body crumpled, already dead before it hit the ground.

"You bastard!" Harry shouted, attacking the monster with more fervor. He knew he'd need to get the rage under control soon, but at the moment he let it give him strength. Voldemort just laughed.

The laughter transformed the monster further, reminding Harry just why he was the stuff of nightmares. Voldemort's pale, deathly white skin was pulled tight across a face barely more than a skull. The red eyes danced with pleasure at the death, promising the same fate for Harry. The pale hand clutched a yew wand, and Harry spun as it flicked at him and a spell came hurtling towards him, green light offering death.

He regained his balance and sent spell after spell at the monster, his anger fueling his battle rage. It was a circular pattern that he needed to stop. He needed to gain control of this rage, master it. Without control, he wouldn't be able to master Legilimency. He'd fail.

"I'm sorry that I didn't blast a hole through his stomach as you dreamed," Voldemort taunted from behind a shield that reflected Harry's spells back on him. Harry felt his blood run cold, the anger leaving him as he dodged his own spells reflected back. He hadn't thought of the Death Parade nightmare in months. It was a nightmare where those he loved blamed him for their deaths at Voldemort's hands. "That would have been frightfully messy."

They exchanged several spells, Harry feeling his equal footing with the monster slip as the minutes passed. He felt as if he'd fallen many miles below equal footing when Voldemort conjured a cannon ball and dropped it onto Shacklebolt's stomach. In the nightmare, Shacklebolt had a hole though his middle the size and shape of a cannon ball just as he did now.

Harry clung to his control, but the memories of the nightmare opened up memories from Malfoy Manor. He shot spells at Voldemort, trying to keep him busy, but the Monster kept talking, kept taunting. Harry was no match for Voldemort as an Occlumens. The scar made it impossible to keep him out. And he didn't have the concentration to use Legilimency, so he wouldn't be able to distract and challenge Voldemort. Voldemort was going to plunder his mind once more, unless he did something about it.

Harry struggled aright, and summoned the control to attack Voldemort. He wasn't going to let this Monster conjure up memories to destroy him. He wasn't going to let the Monster drive him down again, not after what had happened last summer. Harry wasn't going to let Voldemort bring him down using simple memories. He wasn't going to let it be that easy.

"Ardent!" he shouted, swearing under his breath as he dove out of the way of an oncoming Killing Curse. His spell went wide and Harry rolled as he fell, preparing to stand and face the Monster once more.

Only that never happened.

The small presence that was Ginny in the back of his mind disappeared. She was dead. Her death was the only way his parents' rings would fail. Voldemort hit him with the Cruciatus once more and Harry welcomed the pain for it drowned out his grief.

A woman in starched, white Auror robes walked along a cliff's ledge, looking around with interest. She felt calm and peaceful, the crashing waves at the bottom of the cliff filling her with its reassuring rhythm. To her left, birds called and insects buzzed, the meadow alive as nothing she'd ever seen in her life had been.

Before her, a large gathering of people blocked the tiny footpath she was following, but she felt no fear as she neared them. She felt no annoyance, only an excited anxiousness that hummed deep in her bones. She'd been waiting most of her life for this moment, she knew it. Some stood in Auror robes and others in robes that belonged to the Free Army of Britain, as she remembered they'd called themselves. Still others, those who looked to belong to this place more than those in white, wore civilian clothes. One, a man near the edge, turned toward her and smiled broadly.

His hair was black and shaggy, needing a trim just as it always had. His smile held mischievousness and a promise for a good time. His eyes, she knew, were alight with the same mischief that tainted his smile. It was a face she'd dreamed of often in the years since they'd last seen each other.

She grinned in return and started to sprint the last few meters into Sirius's arms just as he did the same. They met somewhere in the middle, crushing each other in a desperate and passionate embrace, kissing as if it'd been decades since their last kiss.

She broke away from him and remembered.

She remembered the grief that swamped her when Sirius wouldn't trust Remus. The hellish week when she'd been told that Lily and James were dead and that Sirius had killed Peter and betrayed the Potters. Then the disbelief that no one would believe her when she'd shouted Sirius's innocence and the disbelief when she'd lost Hope. She remembered years of guarding Harry at the Dursley's, watching him suffer and yet manage to persevere. She remembered teaching him and the others at Hogwarts. Taking over as Commander of the British Aurory. She remembered the headaches and migraines. She remembered the events of her last day.

She remembered her death.

And she wept.

A young lady about Ginny's age came up to them and hugged her. Thia looked up and into eyes so very similar to her own, set in a face similar to both Sirius's and Tonks's. She wept even harder on Hope's shoulder.

"Come on, we've been waiting for you," Sirius said, eagerly tugging at her arm.

"Dad! Leave her be for a moment! You were a mess, too, remember!"

Thia laughed through her tears, recognizing something of her mother's voice in her daughter's.

"But, Harry's just—"

"Then go back and watch!" Hope chided him. "I'll stay with Mum!"

That set Thia off with more tears. She'd never known her daughter in life, and she'd spent years yearning to hear that word from Hope's lips. To hear it now, at the cost of her life...

"Syn, it'll be alright," Sirius said, nudging their daughter away and enveloping her in his strong embrace. "It was your time to move on, 'Temis." She clung to him, still unsure. Hope embraced them both, leaning her chin on Thia's shoulder.

"Just like mine was way back when," the young girl whispered. "I wasn't meant for that world, Mum. I was meant for this one."

"Now, so are you," Sirius said. "Come on, Syn, you won't believe what just happened! Shacklebolt just died, too, and Harry's crumbled!"

"Don't call me Syn," she scolded wetly, pulling away from them and drying her eyes. He'd always called her that, the one part of her name she hated more than anything. "What do you mean?"

"Come on," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling it eagerly.

She smiled, reminded forcefully of all the times she'd called him a puppy and a mutt. He was always so eager, so energetic.

They joined the gathering, Thia's eyes finding those who had been under her command this night. O'Bleery looked at her with a lopsided grin and a shrug. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil gripped each other tightly, staring down at the ocean in deep concentration.

In fact, she now noticed that most everyone stood along the cliff, watching the waves hit below. Others stood behind them, talking quickly, some nervously. A redhead turned her head and Thia found herself in Lily's embrace before she realized who was hugging her. Another person slammed into them, and Thia recognized Sam's laughter as if it hadn't been years since she'd last heard it. It seemed that Sam still nearly always bruised when she hugged people. It had always been like that. It made Thia start crying once more.

"Don't worry, GM, everyone's out of whack when they first get here," Lily said reassuringly. "I nearly choked James to death for picking Peter over Sirius over Dumbledore. And then I remembered we were already dead and started crying." Thia laughed.

"Me, I just clutched my kids tight while my brothers held me," Sam said thoughtfully. "The kids were such a mess, so confused. They were too young to understand."

"Come on," Sirius said, pulling Thia away from her friends. "I want to show you—"

"Sirius Black!" Lily scolded. "Let us have some gossip time first!"

"But Harry's just—"

"Harry's fine," Lily said with a toughness to her voice Thia remembered. "Have faith in your godson!" Sirius calmed, marginally, and waited a tad more patiently as the girls hugged once more.

"I was so lost without either of you," Thia told them. "What's a WG without her other Goddesses? And I did a piss-poor job at making sure Harry had a good life."

"You had tough competition," Lily muttered, glaring at the back of a little old man, sitting cross-legged and floating in midair. "Godric Gryffindor has made sure Harry's had loads of heartache and difficulties. He's been grooming Harry into his hero."

"As have I," Thia said honestly. "Sorry, GF."

"Don't be," Lily said with a squeeze of her hand. "Its Gryffindor's fault you had to. Your work will give Harry the chance he needs to live."

"You know, he was just making sure Harry didn't go bad like Tom Riddle did," Sam said softly, her eyes locking with Lily's.

"It doesn't mean—"

"NO!" Sirius impatiently said, well, yelled might be a better word. "I will not wait to show Thia if all you're going to do is have that stupid argument again! I've heard it tons of times already and you're both right and that will be the end of it."

Lily and Sam both nodded at each other, to Thia's surprise, and then nodded to Sirius. They had never quit an argument just because someone asked. These two fought like cats and dogs all the time; it was how they showed they cared.

"Finally! Come on! I want to show you!" She let Sirius pull her away, towards the edge of the cliff.

"What are you all doing here?" Thia asked, realizing that everyone she'd known who had died in these wars stood on the cliff.

Gid and Fabe Prewitt, Arthur Weasley, Caradoc Dearborn, Benji Fenwick, Rayner Volker, both her parents, Lily's Mum and Dad, James's parents, Regulus Black, Dorcas Meadows, three kids who could only be Sam and Severus', Sirius, Hope, Lily, James, Sam, herself—the list went on and on. Even Peter stood at the far end of the group, as far from James and Lily as he could get while still being a part of the group.

"Waiting for our chance at revenge," Sirius replied. He motioned over towards four people in the middle of the group; one she knew was Godric Gryffindor. "Those four have seen the Lladd Cariad done before. Rowena told us to ask Slytherin about what really happened, so we did. He was the Legilimens who used it back when they had their war. He says Harry's spell will be a bit different, because they improved on Rowena's work, but in the end we get to be a part of Voldemort's death!"

"Oh joy," she muttered, rolling her eyes at Sirius's excitement. They'd pushed through the group and now stood next to James, looking out at a stunningly clear view of the ocean as far as the eye could see. James pointed at something.

"Oh, good, time was moving slow," Sirius exclaimed, throwing an arm around James's shoulder. "We haven't missed anything!"

"No, he's just twitched a few times since you left," James answered darkly. "Honestly, this has got to be what Muggle hell is all about."

"No kidding," Sirius said as he stared at something among the waves, quickly sobering and looking grim. "I never realized how absolutely agonizing the Cruciatus looks."

"Ever seen it in slow motion before?"

"Good point; it's truly gruesome."

"As much as I love hearing you both talk like the old days—what the bloody hell is going on?" Thia asked as politely as she could manage.

"Sorry, Syn," Sirius said, and then yelped when she whacked him hard across the back of his head. "Thia," he said by way of an apology. Obviously, he'd forgotten how she reacted to that horrible nickname. "Focus your thoughts on Harry and look at a point halfway between here and the waves below. Because there's so many of us looking, it's really easy and really clear."

Thia followed his instructions and gasped when she saw a see-through vision of the Cathedral Battle, Harry and Voldemort at the center of a ring that included Death Eaters and his guard. Through the vision she could still see the waves, but they faded into the background as her focus tightened on Harry. A sickening yellow light that was very pale surrounded him and he was twitching so painfully slow. Sirius was right; the Cruciatus in slow motion was a billion times worse than even experiencing it. Her eyes locked with Harry's for several long seconds and then he blinked.

"Why's it so slow?" she asked.

"Time likes to mess with us," Lily answered her, coming to stand on James's other side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Keeps the likes of Gryffindor from messing with the mortal world too badly. We even see possible futures if we concentrate properly and have been taught. It takes years and years of training though."

"How's Tonks doing and where's Ginny?" she asked staring at the group surrounding Harry.

"Look," Sirius said, pointing. "Think about one of them and just look. Because only you're looking—"

Time seemed to slow for Harry, as the curse ripped through his body. It tore at his nerves, nerves that had taken a beating the year before from this same Monster. Nerves that had been close to giving out, a mind that had almost been destroyed only a short year ago. Harry felt the edge approaching once more. His nerves weren't going to last much longer.

The seizures that wracked his body turned him on his back and he looked up at the ceiling. His eyes were unable to see the Dark Mark that would signal his death, not Draco's independence, nor the collapsed stonework of the roof. Instead his eyes focused on Thia's face as she looked down on him.

Their eyes met and he wondered what she was doing up there. He blinked and realized that Sirius stood on one side and a teenager who looked like both of them stood on the other. His Mum and Dad stood on Sirius's other side. Arrayed on either side of them were faces he knew. He realized they all stood on a cliff staring down at him.

At Life.

He blinked.

Death must be quickly approaching, not only insanity. A second later, his seizures threw him onto one of his sides, and his gaze fell on Shacklebolt, seeing him in the real world. Past the feet of those in a circle were others killed, from both sides, Aurors and Death Eaters, side by side in death.

He remembered words from his past, words that haunted him:

"Be careful with your choices these next few years. Remember that you'll see many paths and the only paths worth walking are difficult and hard. Don't succumb to the easy paths. Walk the straight and narrow."

Words spoken to him by Godric Gryffindor the first time he'd managed to land himself between Life and Death.

What paths did he see now?

Death. That seemed easy. All he had to do was accept the spell Voldemort held him under and the Cruciatus would rip his mind asunder.

Life. Damn, that'd be hard. He'd have to get out of this curse. He'd have to get Voldemort under his mental control and then successfully cast the Lladd Cariad.

Just two paths lay before him.

His seizures landed him on his back once more and he glanced up once again. This time his eyes met Professor Dumbledore's. The old man actually winked at him! Harry tried to force a smile to his lips. Only Albus Dumbledore would wink at a time like this.

No... Albus Dumbledore would only wink if there was something Harry should know, something he had missed. The old man winked a second time. Harry scanned the faces looking down on him and couldn't find Ginny among them. Surely, she'd be there.

Unless she wasn't dead.

Of course, Dumbledore wanted him to know that, just like last year, Harry'd been the fool. Someone must have taken her ring off, knowing what it would do to him. His mind reminded him of those fighting to keep loyal Death Eaters away from them. Ron, Hermione, Severus, Remus, O'Neil, Draco, Celeste, Terry. Tonks fought out there somewhere, as did all the members of the D.A.

Except those he saw above. Cho, Terry, Lavender, Parvati, Colin, Justin, Dean... Shacklebolt just showed up next to a bunch of people that seemed to be family. Harry's eyes found his parents and he knew he had to get up.

He willed his nerves to obey him, to listen to his commands, not the spell's. Slowly at first, but with gathering speed, the seizure stopped and he braced himself to stand. Just as painfully slowly, he stood up, ignoring the convulsions threatening to break his concentration. He heard the gasps around him as he raised his wand.

"No," he said. "I'm not going that easily. Finite Incantatem." Surprising everyone, including himself, it actually stopped the Cruciatus Curse. Harry nearly sagged in relief as his muscles relaxed and his nerves sighed in relief. He strengthened his resolve and stayed standing.

Harry realized that he was glowing, and the light filled him with strength. He could feel his mother's arms around him, Thia's, his dad's, Sirius's, Dumbledore's. He could feel them watching, even if, after the briefest look up, he couldn't see them any longer. He grinned. It was time.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted at the same time Voldemort tried the Killing Curse on him once again.

Déjà vu hit at the same time the two spells collided—one red, the other green.

Priori Incantatem.

Only this time things were different. He was in control.

His wand started to vibrate violently, and he was forced to grip it with both hands, but he didn't want to let go. His mind went into over-drive, planning what he wanted to do with this turn of events. A golden light blossomed between their wands, connecting the brother wands in a line straight and true, and Harry watched it all as if it was moving in slow motion.

He realized that everyone around them had turned to watch—not only his guards, but also those fighting beyond. Others, slowly as they realized something odd was happening, turned as well, watching with astonishment as the light shivered and broke. It went up and then out and fell to the ground, encasing Harry, Voldemort, and Shacklebolt's body in a dome of golden light that spun, pushing those nearest away.

A wind that somehow felt golden started spinning inside the dome as well, clearing away debris and tugging at Harry's robes. It didn't threaten to push him over, and it didn't move Shacklebolt's body. The wind died down, and Harry saw the true color of the stone, a bluish-gray instead of the blackened color it had become.

Harry gazed over at Voldemort, smiling in anticipation of the next step of the spell. And there it was: the glorious song of a phoenix, Fawkes's joyful trill. It filled Harry with even more hope after his family had given him their strength. His grin turned ruthless as he locked eyes with Voldemort's and cast, "Legilimens!"

Voldemort was surprised, at first, but brought up his defenses quickly. He attacked as well, going down paths Severus and Harry had carefully planned for him, happy memories that would annoy or bother Voldemort, sickening him. Hugs and puppies and butterflies and the like that even sickened Harry when he thought about it too long.

Then the Priori Incantatem moved on to its next phase, the light connecting their wands breaking into drops of liquid light that clung to the beam like dew to a spider's web. Harry was ready for the increase of vibration, and he hung on because his life did depend on it. He split his mental power and willed the beads to stop sliding towards him. Then he attacked Voldemort's defenses once more, searching for any weak spot to take advantage of.

He found it more easily than he expected.

Doubt.

Voldemort doubted his own ability to win, especially now that the wands had connected as they had. He could overcome Harry's blockade on the drops of light if he threw all his efforts into it, stopping the attack on Harry's mind. But, then he'd leave Harry free to do as he wished mentally. He realized that he hadn't actually gotten into Harry's defenses. Instead he was stuck in a maze before the shields.

Harry shook his head as he realized that he was inside Voldemort's mind. Their connection via the scar gave Harry the ability to listen to Voldemort's thoughts, just as it gave Voldemort easy access to his.

Now he just needed control of the Monster's mind.

The beads hadn't moved, the liquid light stuck in the middle. Harry clung to his vibrating wand. He thought quickly. He would need to bring the drops to Voldemort's wand a moment before he struck with Lladd Cariad.

Oh, this was going to be very, very, very tricky.

Ron watched Harry and Voldemort, riveted by the duel. Dimly, he was aware that everyone else around him watched too, and that small awareness was thankful that no one attacked his undefended back. Then again, the injury would be worth it, because he was sure he'd never see a duel like this again.

This was an once-in-a-lifetime duel between two of the most powerful wizards alive.

Ron hoped he'd never see anything like this again.

He'd been scared when Harry had gone down the last time, afraid that Voldemort's Cruciatus would drive Harry insane. But then, against all odds, Ron had watched out the corner of his eye as Harry had stood up under the curse and then end it. And then, something happened, something that could only be that thing Harry had told them had happened at the Third Task in that graveyard. It was just as Harry had described.

A golden beam connected the two wands, though Ron had a hard time watching such raw magic. Thankfully, the spell had a built in shield to protect those who watched from the strong magical force the two were emitting. Before that beam had split to form the ward, Ron and the others had been forced to take several steps back away from them.

The ringing phoenix song now filling the Cathedral calmed Ron, forcing the panic he felt for his best mate's welfare down to a manageable level.

Ever so slowly, the drops of the golden liquid light began sliding towards Voldemort's wand at Harry's bidding.

At least time was going slowly, cooperating for a first. Harry sifted through Voldemort's mind, careful not to set off any traps or warning signals. Harry doubted Voldemort had done serious practice in years, probably only a few times when he came face to face with Dumbledore. It would make things easier, he hoped. He found the memory of his mother's death and watched it, letting Voldemort think he had stumbled onto the memory on his own, without Harry's aid. He nudged Voldemort into thinking about James Potter's death.

Voldemort was oblivious.

The wizard was caught up in a memory of Harry's, one he had purposefully thought of. It was one of the times his uncle had bullied him, one of the worst times. A small boy, with dark black hair huddled in his cupboard as Vernon Dursley threw insults at him as well as nearby books and magazines—even a vase. A more recent memory, showed the scar left by one of the shards on his left shoulder.

Just as Harry had hoped, these memories opened a door in Voldemort's mind and Harry stepped inside. A young Tom Riddle, his black hair covered in dirt and blood, stood in the middle of a jeering crowd of orphans; they called him a freak and weirdo and all the similar things that Vernon had just called a young Harry Potter.

The drops of light picked up speed, Voldemort becoming aware as his wand started to tremble harder than before. Voldemort's eyes widened in shock and horror, his other pale, spidery hand went to grip it before he dropped it. The eyes flicked to the sides, panicking. Voldemort left off his attack on Harry's mind and concentrated on the drops coming nearer and nearer to his wand tip as they followed the golden beam back to one of their two sources.

Harry kept his will on them and Voldemort's mind.

His momentum made it impossible for the Monster to recover.

The scene changed, Tom was a few years older, dressed in Hogwarts robes, but the insults hadn't changed by much. Older boys, all wearing Slytherin green, mocked him, calling him half-blood, calling him a Muggle, calling him a freak and a weirdo, calling him nastier names.

The scene changed, and Harry was surprised to see his own young face, terrified and pale though it was, filled with defiance. It was the graveyard scene, from Voldemort's point of view. Harry was fascinated as a terrified fourteen-year-old defied the Monster and Fate and got out alive.

Harry kept the memories coming, all of them meant to break Voldemort further, and placing the other's mind fully in Harry's control.

The drops came closer yet, only a scant centimeter away. Harry pushed just a bit harder and the light connected. He didn't even wait until his echoing screams under the Cruciatus ended before breaking the connection, yanking hard on his wand.

He began his retreat from Voldemort's mind at the same moment the golden cage shattered and disappeared from around them.

Just as Harry was about to leave Voldemort's mind completely, just as Fawkes's song ended, he brought his wand back to the ready, held high to his right.

Voldemort's eyes were huge in fear, terror spilling from them like Harry would never have expected and the red darkening as dread swamped him.

Harry thought of all those who watched above, waiting for him to avenge their deaths.

He thought of Ron and Hermione who were going to help him build a house on his parents' property in Godric's Hollow while they planned their wedding.

He thought of Ginny who wanted to marry him even if he was a shattered soul who only caused her pain.

He thought about Tonks's graduation letter, about how she and Remus wanted their own kids once the war was over, and about how she'd been stressed about "The Talk" when it came time with Caitlan.

He thought of Remus, who didn't even know he'd lost his sister yet, who wanted those kids as much as Tonks, who loved chocolate enough to bother his wife should his supply disappear.

He thought of Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall at Hogwarts keeping the castle safe.

He thought of Nettle and Pomfrey who were in charge of the Healers there, of Althea in charge of the Battle Healers here.

He thought of Severus who had continued on even after Voldemort had dealt him a tough hand, who had worked so long and hard for this moment to come.

He thought of what Life would be like without Voldemort among the living, how Voldemort's death would free them from the terror and evil that gripped their hearts.

He brought his wand down towards his left hip and then back up to where he had started, crying out, "Lladd Cariad!" as he did it, completely out of Voldemort's mind by only a scant second.

And then the light emanating from Harry flashed a brilliant, blinding white and the sounds of a storm crashing around the Cathedral faded into nothingness.

Though Ron couldn't watch the beam itself, he could and did watch the mercury-like drops that were slowly, agonizingly creeping towards Voldemort's wand. When there was only a centimeter between it and the first drop, Ron looked up into Voldemort's face and saw a terrified man instead of the nightmare who had haunted his dreams since early childhood.

Glancing to the right, Ron looked into Harry's face. Instead of finding the boy he'd been friends with for almost seven full years and who had just graduated alongside him, Ron saw a powerful wizard determinedly working at destroying his mortal enemy. Harry's brow was furrowed in concentration, and then so many things happened at once, Ron wasn't sure he'd followed it all.

The drop finally slid that last, short distance and connected with Voldemort's wand tip, and an echoing scream that sounded like Harry's issued from it. Harry broke the connection with a lurch. The surrounding globe glittered out of existence. Harry screamed, "Lladd Cariad!" at the top of his lungs. There was a blinding flash of brilliant white light, the aura around Harry being its source. And then—

They were gone.

Ron blinked in his surprise, nonplussed.

He hadn't known what exactly was supposed to happen, just that the spell would kill Voldemort somehow. He knew that Harry and Hermione had spent hours discussing the theory, but Ron hated being around them during that time. He hated being able to understand only a word in every three, and then usually only small ones like "a" and "if" and "but" which didn't count.

Ron had imagined that Harry would cast it and stand triumphantly over the body of what had once been Lord Voldemort, his face shining with relief and pride. Ron had never imagined this.

He looked around, as if expecting the two to jump out from behind a corner and yell, "Surprise!"

His eyes found Hermione's instead and he stared into them. He could tell she was just as startled. He silently asked what had happened, she shrugged, and he frowned. Her eyes showed him her worry now, so carefully hidden a second before. His hand sought hers and her hand met his half way. Looking around, he saw Snape blink and shake his head, as if clearing it.

"Expelliarmus!" Snape cast, and Ron watched stupidly as the spell sped across the circle. He knew every soul in the Cathedral watched as the spell collided with Bellatrix Lestrange. Her wand flew back across the circle and into Snape's waiting hand. It collided with his palm with a loud "thwap" that seemed to wake everyone up.

Malfoy met Ron's gaze and grinned. "Phase two of my plan begins now, Weasel," the boy taunted. "Makes things easier, now that Potter's gone and destroyed himself along with the half-blood."

"Shut it!" Ron shouted, trying to drown out the thoughts Malfoy's words had triggered. "Ardent!"

Had Harry given himself up for them all?

"Vapulus!" Malfoy shouted. Ron ducked the spell that would send him into a coma. "Get out!" Malfoy commanded those who followed him. "Conteros!" Ron blocked the bone-crushing spell.

Had too much magic been running through Harry's body, what with both the Lladd Cariad and the brother wand magic?

"Incarcerous!" Ron shouted, determined to bind Malfoy before he could escape. The ropes missed the blond by scant inches. He started to follow, but Snape commanded him to stay put.

Harry would have done it, too, knowing it would kill him. Stupid martyr complex!

"We can't let them get away!" Ron shouted back, even as he stopped. He shot one last curse at Malfoy, grimacing when the other blocked it with a shield and then had the audacity to make a rude hand gesture in return.

What would they do without Harry? Sure, the wizarding world would manage—dead heroes made for the best stories after all—but what about the rest who actually knew the troubled teen? How would they survive if Harry was actually dead?

"We need to wait for when Harry returns!" Snape said, surprising Ron. While he'd been glaring daggers at Malfoy's retreating back, the Potions Master had come to stand next to him.

"He'll be back?" Ron asked, hating how desperate he sounded. Hermione grabbed his hand again and squeezed it, trying to reassure him.

"Of course," Snape said, his voice filled with disdain. "Mr. Potter is too inconsiderate to actually die and leave us in peace. I am sure he will come back to torment us all." Ron tried not to smile. Snape still couldn't accept normal reactions to things like friendship. He hid his concern behind spiteful words, but Ron was wise to his tricks. "Besides, I need someone to watch my back as I try to figure out what curse hit your sister."

"Ginny?" Ron asked, his voice strangled. "Where is she?"

"Follow me."

He heard the waves before he saw them, heard the murmuring crowd before he saw them. When the light faded from Harry's gaze, he was standing in front of Voldemort on top of the Cliff between Life and Death.

Prowling around them, a crowd, all Voldemort's victims, seemed to be waiting for something, waiting for the chance to rend Voldemort apart, bit by bit. The waves crashed at the bottom of the Cliff, a steady tempo that filled Harry with a sense of Life he'd never felt here before. Something was definitely different this time.

Across from Harry, Voldemort looked far beyond terrified. His eyes still flickered around him, panicking. Harry was reminded of Peter Pettigrew and the Shrieking Shack back in his third year, when Wormtail had only wanted to escape his ex-friends bent on murder. Unlike Peter, Harry was not planning on speaking up in Voldemort's defense.

The crowd started to grow impatient, staring at Harry now, as well as at Voldemort.

Dumbledore stopped his prowling and turned his eyes to Harry. The crowd moved around him, but they didn't get in the way of Dumbledore's gaze. He smiled a secret little smile and then winked. He began circling again.

Thia stopped next, grinning. She held the hand of the teenager he'd seen before. She mouthed, "Hope," to him, and then raised an eyebrow, as if asking what he was waiting for.

Sirius didn't even bother stopping. Instead his gaze shifted from Voldemort to Harry, his thumbs turning up in a very confident thumbs-up sign, and then the gaze shifted back to Voldemort and the hands lowered back into fists.

His mum stopped, her eyes asking him to hurry up.

His dad stopped, his eyes pleading.

And then he heard Severus say, as if he were right next to him "... only with the victim's death would his victims find peace."

"Find your peace," Harry said formally, his wand arm resting at his side. The... ghosts... spirits... souls... whatever they were screamed in victory, spinning around only Voldemort now. As they screamed, Harry heard a chant of some sort, and he realized they were cleansing Voldemort of the Evil that clung to him and tainted everything he touched.

Harry dropped to his knees, his free hand reaching up to clap over his lightning bolt scar. Inside his head he heard a long, drawn-out scream of misery and defeat. Never had Harry ever felt pain such as this from the scar before, not even all those times Voldemort had touched him in the past. Not even when Quirrell had almost killed him back in first year.

The Dead didn't hit, they didn't cast spells against Voldemort, just cleansed him, their spinning speeding up until they were just a blur of motion around the Monster. They came to a stand still, and a sad and pathetic form curled up on the ground was all that remained, whimpering before Harry. The teen managed to stand back up, blinking past the pain and the blood coming from his scar.

Gryffindor locked eyes with Harry's and he knew as if the old man had shouted it, what he needed to do next. He brought his wand up above his right shoulder, brought it down towards his left hip, and back up to where he'd begun. The spell tore out of his throat in a determined shout of, "Lladd Cariad!"

A bright white form shot from his wand—a phoenix—and devoured Voldemort in one large gulp. The phoenix burst into white sparks, similar to, but so different from, a living phoenix's Burning Day.

Harry stood there, staring at the spot that had last held Voldemort, dazed. His scar twinged just once more and then went silent. Only in the absence of its noise did he realize that it had actually always made a sort of sound within his mind. He'd always known life with the noise, had never known life without it, and it was a bit disconcerting to be without it now.

Then his ears, straining for the noise of the scar, noise they had never heard, did hear the sounds of cheering and clapping. He blinked and realized that Thia, Lily, James, Sirius, Sam, Hope, and Dumbledore floated towards him. Gryffindor was congratulating a scowling man who could only be Salazar Slytherin, while a witch who could only be Rowena Ravenclaw laughed and slung an arm around Slytherin's shoulders. Helga Hufflepuff scolded Gryffindor, making Harry guess the infuriating old man had commented on his heir beating Slytherin's heir.

"Good job," Thia said, smiling, and embracing Harry.

"That was quite the show you put on," Sirius commented with a huge grin. "Got to tell you, I was a bit worried when you went down the second time with the slime bag's Cruciatus."

"I never doubted you," Dad said confidently, flicking Sirius's head and throwing an arm around Harry's shoulder in a one armed hug.

"That's 'cause you're his dad," Sirius replied. "Dads are different from Godfathers."

"If you say so."

"I do."

"That settles it," Mum interrupted the bickering men. "If I couldn't rant about Gryffindor, then you can't fight with James. I'm so very proud of you, Harry," she said, gripping him in a tight hug, all traces of irritation gone from her voice.

Harry hugged her back just as tightly, guiltily savoring the touch from his mother. He wished more then ever that he had grown up with them all. His childhood would have been so much different, so much happier.

"Fate is cruel that way," she whispered in his ear, confirming his belief that she could read his mind. "Happier yes, but you wouldn't have been able to do what you just did."

"So do you finally concede?" Gryffindor asked, coming over.

"No," she replied, gripping Harry tighter before letting him go, though an arm remained around his shoulder as she glared at the old man. "I still don't think it was fair of you to place such a task before him to begin with."

"But it was—"

"If I can't fight with James, then you two can't fight over Harry!" Sirius exclaimed. "Anyway, I need to introduce Harry to Hope. You know, James and I had your wedding all planned out."

"You didn't even know I was a girl!" Hope exclaimed, glaring at her dad before smiling at Harry. "Nice to finally meet you, Harry."

"No, we didn't, but that didn't stop us from planning your lives whether or not you were a boy or a girl," Sirius answered, ignoring his daughter's glare. "If you'd been a boy, you two would have been closer than James and I, closer than real brothers!"

"And we had no choice," Harry said ruefully. Sirius ruffled his hair.

"Exactly!"

"And, you looked so grown up, graduating today," Lily went on with her beginning statement, ignoring everything that had gone on since. "Thia was right in her letter, I was proudest of that graduation cord signifying your Quidditch Captaincy."

"Prouder than even I, I must admit," James confessed. "Though, that was a good speech, wish I could have been as good at speech giving."

"You were hopeless," Sirius said with his barking laugh, punching James lightly on the shoulder. "Hilarious, but hopeless."

"Get Remus to tell you about Seventh Year Potions and our oral reports," Thia suggested. "You'll get two pretty hilarious stories, though you might want to make sure Severus isn't around. He might get a tad bit tetchy about it."

"Tad bit might be an understatement," Sam said with a huge grin. "And don't let him get out of living that embarrassment down! As long as he keeps confronting you, you keep right on confronting him. You've got my permission and my blessing."

Dumbledore stepped forward and gripped Harry's hand and arm, shaking them firmly. Then he pulled the younger man into a bone-crushing hug that would have made even Molly Weasley jealous. After squeezing the breath out of Harry, Dumbledore held him out at arm's length.

"Congratulations, Harry," he said with all the formality of a Headmaster on Graduation day. "You have not only managed to destroy Voldemort today, but also graduate from Hogwarts. I must confess, there were times I worried the second would not happen."

"I know, but rules are just asking to be broken," Harry replied with a shrug. Everyone gaped at him, and then James broke down in chuckles. "What?"

"James said that to his dad on Graduation day," Lily said, shaking her head. "You could say it was the unofficial motto of the Marauders." Harry smiled and then looked around, as if called by something. Walking towards them, staring around absentmindedly, was Ginny. His face fell.

"She's not dead," Gryffindor assured him. "Just not alive either. She'll probably be here for a while. Let her pass, she can not see us."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because we aren't the ones meant to speak to her," Hope said, nodding as Sam moved to reach her. Mr. Weasley moved as well, and two men who looked somewhat like Sam and Mrs. Weasley. "They are. You are here—body and soul—and it would be terrible if you'd talk with her here."

Sam reached her, cautioning her not to stop walking. As they walked, they reached Mr. Weasley, and Ginny clung to him, tears pouring down her face as she continued walking. They reached her uncles and the five continued on.

"You have to help her," Lily told him. "She'll come out of this with problems; that wasn't a very nice curse that hit her. It'll take some time for the Healers to break it, so watch over her carefully."

"Even if she yells at you for it," James told him. "She's a lot like your mother, only worse, 'cause she's a Weasley and a Prewitt."

"Sam knew what their kids would be like," Thia said with a laugh. "That's why she was never overly thrilled about Molly's marriage to Arthur!"

"I am deeply regretful to speak up, but, alas, it is time for Harry to leave," Dumbledore said heavily. "Let Minerva know that I was proud of how she handled the Order, let my brother know that I still think he's a lazy goat charmer, and let Severus know that he has fulfilled all his tasks for me at long last. And Tom Riddle has finally learnt that there are worse things than death."

"He's definitely gone this time?" Harry asked, unable to keep from worrying. "Definitely not coming back?"

"No," Dumbledore answered, his eyes twinkling as Harry absentmindedly rubbed his scar, which was finally only a scar and not a connection to an evil wizard. "He's gone where he can't come back."

"Give Severus love from Sam and the kids," Hope said with a grin over her shoulder at where Sam walked in the far distance.

"I'm not a messenger!" he complained. "I'll do what I can, alright. Now, how do I get back?"

"Jump," Gryffindor said with a sickening grin. "Just jump."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"You've been here far too often," Lily chided him. "I don't want to see you here again until you're meant to stay; do you hear me, young man?"

"Yes, Mum," he said, suddenly glad that he hadn't had a Mum all his life. At least Petunia could never guilt him into doing anything once he was old enough to understand that he didn't belong with the Dursleys. Lily hit him on the side of the head and then hugged him. Everyone hugged him in turn. Then he took a deep breath and faced the cliff. "I hate this," he said as a goodbye and then took a running leap.

This fall was worse than any before; this body was his real one, and it sensed coming doom. He closed his eyes, not wishing to see the coming water, not wishing to feel how coming into Life would be this time. He splashed, but instead of coming awake in a bed, he fell from near the collapsed ceiling and landed with a sickening crunch upon the ground.

Ron followed Severus to the spot where Ginny was crumpled up. She'd gone down nearly twenty-five feet from the edge of what had been the circle and looked as though she slept, though definitely not peacefully. She twitched and turned, whimpering. Severus knelt down and started to cast spells on her. Ron and Hermione faced separate directions and watched for any stray spells coming their way.

Now that Voldemort and Harry were gone, the Death Eaters were desperate to get out of the Cathedral and beyond the anti-apparition wards Voldemort had cast on the building. Ron knew that specially trained Magical Law Enforcement officers had been busy placing their own anti-apparition wards around the area. Those trying to run would have to get out of the valley before they'd be able to apparate. They were caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

Most Death Eaters were, thankfully, too busy fleeing to attack the group resting in the middle of the Cathedral. Ron helped Hermione deflect spells coming from those still fighting near the escape routes. He watched as Malfoy and his cronies battled like cornered animals to get through the Aurors guarding the stairs to the crypts.

"Snape, what can I do to help?" Tonks asked, coming up to the four with a bunch of Aurors. She looked exhausted but in her element.

"He's busy healing," Hermione answered. "Why doesn't someone go round up Draco Malfoy?"

"Terry O'Murray anywhere near him?" Tonks asked.

"Of course," Remus replied, joining them with O'Neil. "Why?" he asked, obviously worried by how dark Tonks's tone had been.

"The filthy—"

A loud howl filled the cathedral, cutting Tonks off. They all looked around, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. Snape gasped, falling to both knees, and clutched his left forearm. His head snapped up, and Ron followed the man's gaze to the Dark Mark.

The snake was moving, but not in its normal menacing fashion. It writhed in agony as the skull screamed, sending chills down Ron's spine. Death Eaters all around clutched at their own Dark Marks, most clawing at them as if to scratch the marks off their skin. Severus didn't seem to be in any pain though. He looked—It was hard for Ron to put words to how he looked, either as if he'd been forgiven or as if a weight was being lifted from his shoulders.

Ron glanced over at Malfoy, but his group seemed to be somewhere in between the pain-riddled loyal Death Eaters and Severus's look of relief. Ron smiled to himself; it seemed forgiveness didn't sit well with these thirty-or-so Death Eaters.

Then the Dark Mark, the one high in the sky, exploded. The loyal Death Eaters screamed in panic, Malfoy's group swore, and Snape sighed in visible relief. Green sparks fell, and Ron could already picture the twins' next line of fireworks: Blasting Dark Marks!

Everyone who watched the glittering sparks fall knew that Voldemort was gone, dead for good.

Ron swallowed hard when Harry didn't reappear instantly.

It had taken Harry's sacrifice to get rid of the Monster.

Ron swallowed hard again, and hugged a teary-eyed Hermione. Snape's eyes darted all over, but he too came to the same conclusion.

Harry wasn't coming back.

Ron tightened his arms around Hermione, wishing that the agonizingly dull ache would leave his chest so that he could breath properly.

Snape sighed once more, this time not in relief, and returned to healing Ginny. Tonks wrapped her arms around a stunned Remus. Hermione's silent tears soaked Ron's shirt front. And he felt an icy determination settle over him.

"Well, you guys, weren't you going to help capture Malfoy?" Ron looked at the Auror who seemed to be in charge. Besides Tonks that is. His eyes challenged this unknown Auror, daring her to question a command given by a teenager. She didn't. Instead, she started spouting off orders. Tonks made to move, but Remus held her tightly to his side.

"You're in no fit state to be slaying evil," he told her softly.

"You don't understand!" she shouted, fist clutched tightly at her side as Remus held her. "She killed Thia! O'Murray killed Thia! And I couldn't stop it! But I can stop her!" She struggled to get her fist up so that she could pound Remus's chest. Ron wasn't sure Remus even felt it as he automatically held on to his wife. Not only was Harry not coming back, but now Thia was gone as well.

They'd paid a high price for their victory.

Ron was going to make sure they got everything they had paid for. He wanted their future safe. He wanted that future Harry had spoke of so longingly.

And then something happened that made his heart soar first in joy and then fear: Harry fell from the ceiling of the Cathedral and landed not five feet from them. Ron was glad to see Harry breathing, even if the pain was obvious.

The cathedral was alive, more panicked then when Harry had left. Severus, Hermione, and Ron all soon realized that he was back and surrounded him. Pain filled his senses, but after that last bout of the Cruciatus, Harry realized his pain threshold had gone up. His left leg was throbbing, horribly shattered beneath him. He was lucky that his leg was all that had broken.

Gryffindor, you are a right piece of shite, you know that? he thought viciously at his House's founder. I hope Mum has your hide for that stunt!

"Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"I'm alive and he isn't," he answered not sure what question she was asking. Both apparently, as she let out a nervous laugh. "And when I do die, I'm going to wring Gryffindor's neck so that he dies a second time!" Severus's deep rumbling chuckle greeted that. Remus, who was holding onto a tearful Tonks, joined them, as did O'Neil. Draco and his group had disappeared. "Would someone do something for my leg? I want to pass out from pain, but my tolerance has gone up."

Severus stooped as the others closed in on them, protecting them as Severus began healing him. He cast several spells, fixing the leg marginally and then placing it into a magical cast. "Drink this, for the swelling. And this for the pain. And this for blood loss. And this for Cruciatus damage. And this to strengthen you."

"Great, five nasty and disgusting potions to force down," he grumbled.

"If you would be kind enough to hurry so that we can get you and Miss Weasley back to Hogwarts?" Harry nodded and downed them one after another as quickly as he could manage. Severus helped him to stand and they moved to where Ginny lay. "Miss Granger is going to go with you as well as Mrs. Lupin," he informed Harry. He looked up at the Slytherin blankly and then realized that Tonks was actually Mrs. Lupin. He'd just never heard anyone call her that before.

"Oh, okay," he answered, laughing at the glare Tonks was giving Severus.

"Then she'll return along with, most likely, Miss Granger. You will not. You are exhausted and that leg needs some serious work. Understand me?"

"Dumbledore said your tasks were complete," he blurted out.

"Well, he has forgotten one of them," Severus muttered, pulling out a pack of needles. "The best way to do this is if all three of you hold onto Miss Weasley, and the needle with one finger. There is enough room for that." They grabbed onto it, and Severus tapped it. It glowed and then Harry felt the rushing feeling of the Portkey.

When they landed, he found himself in the Great Hall where they had set up the temporary infirmary. Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley both looked frightened when they saw the group, but Harry shook his head.

"It's done," he told them. "The end."