The 25th of December

25 December

With a grand sweep of his arm, Voldemort steps aside.

Harry feels his muscles giving way as he sees Voldemort's newest prisoners.

Snape and Lucius allow him to sink to his knees; it is Snape's hands that clamp onto his shoulders. He pulls Harry upward to stand again.

"I know you must have much to say to your friend," Voldemort says conversationally as he looks over his prize. "He seems to be rather indisposed at the moment, I'm afraid."

Harry leans forward. Harry almost doesn't notice when Snape's fingers press around the curves of his shoulder. Harry has to force himself not to move anymore.

Endure this, Snape had said.

But Harry can't. Not now. Not this.

"Harry, are you all right?" Mr. Weasley asks shakily from where he sits, bound in the snow, in front of Harry. Ron is bound tight against his back. Both of their faces are covered with bruises. Mr. Weasley's nose looks like it has been broken--more than once. And there is a long, jagged cut running from Ron's eye to his chin.

Harry can only nod jerkily in answer to Mr. Weasley's question.

He watches as Mr. Weasley clasps Ron's hand; Ron's chest trembles.

Harry's stills his own fear and shifts his head so that he is looking up at Voldemort.

"...your dagger," he breathes. He will end this himself.

Now.

He ignores Snape's warning pressure against his arms.

Voldemort gazes down at Harry; a tiny, triumphant smile adorns his lips.

The small dagger appears in his palm.

"Let us be certain you are ready." The blade dangles between Voldemort's fingers as he turns to Mr. Weasley and Ron.

"No," Harry cries, struggling mightily to get away from Snape, but Snape will not let him go. He locks his arms around Harry; Harry's back is pressed into Snape's chest.

Voldemort ignores them. He steps close to Ron; he crouches down so that his face is level with Ron's.

Ron tries to move his head back, but he has nowhere to go.

"Perhaps you'd enjoy a demonstration, Ron," he offers. "Your friend Harry is very stubborn. I could show you all of the other families that have died because of his selfish choices."

"Leave him alone," Mr. Weasley commands sharply; he tries to pull his son closer against his back, but Voldemort grabs Ron's arm.

Ron makes an unintelligible noise.

"There is no reason to be afraid," Voldemort tells him soothingly, just like he did with the first little boy. "Harry doesn't want you to die...do you, Harry?" He is looking at Harry now.

The dagger grazes along Ron's neck.

"No," Harry gasps, struggling futilely against Snape. "Leave him alone," he chokes out. "Just...just give the dagger to me. Please..."

"If you like..." Voldemort flicks his wrist. The dagger whistles through the air; it hovers in front of Harry's face.

"Let him take it, Severus."

Harry wonders if Voldemort will detect Snape's hesitation; Harry can feel Snape's arms tautening around his chest.

Snape slowly moves his left arm.

He holds firmly to Harry's other arm as Harry wraps his fingers around the hilt of Voldemort's dagger.

Harry puts the tip of the dagger against his partially-trapped wrist; he feels Snape's body stiffen against his.

"He was your first friend, wasn't he, Harry?"

Harry looks up again as the curious question, but he keeps his eyes on his best friend, and his best friends' father.

Ron and Mr. Weasley are staring at him.

"Harry..." Mr. Weasley whispers. Ron's blue eyes are filled with tears.

Harry pushes the dagger into his pulsing vein.

There is no squelch of skin; no spurt of blood.

He is still alive.

Voldemort hisses in rage. He yanks Ron wildly to tuck him near his side. "More persuasion?" he snarls. "Do you want to see a favorite curse?" he asks, his voice growing in both pitch and volume. "I can slice off each piece of his body, one by one until you are ready, Harry."

He points his wand at Ron's face.

"Shall we begin with his nose? Or one of his ears? Even his lips can be separated from the rest of his-"

Harry's desperate sawing motions against his wrist are futile.

"Stop it!" Harry screams.

Reason and rationality no longer belong to him.

He twists violently in Snape's arms. "Let me die. I can save him. I can. Please! He'll kill them."

Voldemort's head whips around; he narrows his already-slitted eyes. He looks between Snape and Harry. Fury replaces the frustration. But Voldemort makes no accusation. He raises his wand. "Avada Kedavra," he hisses.

Harry's knees buckle as Snape's grip slackens; Harry sinks to his knees in the snow.

"No," he moans as he watches Snape fall soundlessly to the ground.

Displaced snow makes a cloud of white all around his body.

"I always knew you were worthless, Severus," Voldemort spits at the fallen traitor.

"No," Harry says again, and this time Voldemort's words fuel his anger. Rage courses through Harry's veins as pure adrenaline--pure hatred. He props himself up with one palm buried in the snow. He reaches out and in a movement so fast that even Voldemort misses it, Harry scoops up Snape's wand and points its deadly tip at Voldemort.

"Avada Kevadra," he shouts hoarsely.

In mid-turn, Voldemort's pale mouth lips form an O of surprise. In slow motion, as if Harry is watching inside a dream, Voldemort falls, face down in the piled snow.

Harry stares at the back of Voldemort's head in silence.

And then there is motion all around him.

A cloud of silvered smoke swirls around Ron.

Ron becomes Dumbledore.

He towers in the spot where Ron had just been. His wand is slashing the air. Harry feels magic drifting over him.

Unforgivables are zinging through the air.

Bodies are falling around him.

People are running.

Harry stops processing.

He lets his wand arm flop back to the ground; the cold is sharp against his skin.

His propped arm gives out and Harry's flops onto his side into the snow. He lifts his head, turning it toward the place where Snape fell.

Snape.

Harry finally realizes that he, himself, is still alive.

Alive, just as Snape wanted.

Harry doesn't want it.

Snape.

He stares so intently, he imagines he sees Snape's limbs moving.

People are crowding around Snape.

Harry can't see him anymore.

Unforgiving hands grab at Harry as he tries to crane his neck to find Snape again. He is hauled to his feet, only to be settled on something cold and hard--a granite bench. He bats at the intrusive hands.

"Snape," Harry murmurs, even as he realizes he has only imaged Snape moving. He ceases his struggle.

"A pallet, I think," someone murmurs crisply.

"He is severely dehydrated," another voice adds, sounding annoyed at the inconvenience.

Harry doesn't move as they prod him.

"If you would allow me a moment."

Dumbledore.

Harry's fingers curl.

Dumbledore's face comes into View. He is crouching in front of Harry.

"Harry, my dear boy," Dumbledore begins softly, "I am so very sorry." Harry gazes listlessly into the blue eyes.

He does not respond. Dumbledore has betrayed him too many times.

Pretending to be Ron is the last straw.

Dumbledore continues, his voice gruffer than normal. He says things that Harry doesn't understand. Harry is trying not to hear. "He made two of them Harry, and you were one...the diary was the other. I thought that he made many more," Dumbledore tells him but Harry doesn't know what he means. "Had I known you could have defeated him from that very first day, I would have told Professor Snape."

"Professor..." Harry says bleakly as Snape's face fills his mind.

Dumbledore smiles gently at him. "It seems the potion has properties that even Professor Snape was not aware of, Harry. You saved him as well."

Harry can't make sense of Dumbledore's words.

"Saved him?" Harry echoes dully.

Dumbledore reaches a hand out, but Harry tucks his hands into his chest before Dumbledore can touch him. Dumbledore looks surprised. He pauses.

When he speaks again, his voice is as reserved as Harry has every heard it. "Because you did not wish him to die, the potion would not allow Voldemort to kill him." He smiles kindly. "Just as he has kept you alive," he adds softly.

Harry stares at him, trying desperately to comprehend the words.

"Snape is alive, Harry. He survived the Deadly Curse, just as you did."

Harry pushes himself off from the rock unsteadily; he pulls his arms from Dumbledore's support.

"He is in no condition for this, Albus," one of the voices from earlier chides.

Someone takes Harry's arm and turns him toward a waiting clutch of people.

Snape is half-supporting himself on a tall headstone nearby.

The insistent hand tries to tug Harry in the opposite direction. Harry brushes the restraining hands away impatiently.

Harry doesn't know why, but he has to go over there.

Snape looks up.

And not knowing what compels him, Harry's stumbles toward him.

Snape stands; Harry thinks his arms are trembling.

Snape comes toward him; he catches Harry by his elbows as he falls.

Snape lifts him up.

Harry's decimated body shakes with grief as he stares up at Snape.

Voldemort is dead.

Big, fluffy snowflakes begin to drift lazily down; they coat Snape's shoulders.

A broken sob wrenches through Harry's raw, abused throat.

He is alive. And Snape is still keeping him safe.

Unable to hold his head up any longer, Harry lets it fall. His nose is pressed up against Snape's collar. He can feel himself finally succumbing to exhaustion.

Snape's hand cups the back of his head to keep it in place as Harry feels himself beginning to slide toward the ground.

Wind blows Snape's robes forward; they billow around Harry.

Snape grabs the curling edges with his fist and wraps Harry in their folds.

Harry closes his eyes as he listens to the thrum of Snape's steady heartbeat; it calms him as it did in their prison.

For the first time in months, Harry remembers that he is alive.

The End.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. This was one of my most fun writing projects yet. I want to especially thank JadeSullivan for her encouragement. I always enjoy exchanging writing with you, Jade. Thank you. And another special thanks to both choosetolive and Veridian_Dair for providing the awesome artwork for each chapter. Thank you so much for doing this with me. And especially to choosetolive for the artwork which inspired this story--the picture for this chapter. I hope you enjoyed the end results, Julie. The artwork can be seen at http://asylums.insanejournal.com/hp_advent/