Prologue


Hermione missed the usual Christmas cheer of Hogwarts. This year, there simply wasn't any to be found; it was the darkest she had ever experienced. Everywhere people were scared, and Hogwarts was no different. They had good reason to fear as well: Voldemort was stronger than ever.

Hermione let a small smile creep onto her face. That little fact was about to change. And if – no, not if – when Harry would come back to her later that evening, victorious, they would celebrate their greatest Christmas ever.

She glanced around the Room of Requirement. Everything looked perfect but she decided to check the runes and markings once more. She still had time; Harry told her that he would most likely wait till nightfall to execute his plan… Execute Voldemort.

That meant she had to begin the ritual precisely at noon. It was one of the lengthiest Hermione ever saw, but it was also the most powerful. Well, considering that sacrifice was involved, it had to be.

She couldn't even explain when the thought to do this wedged itself into her stubborn head. Maybe when Harry begged her not to come to with him because he couldn't choose the world over her. Maybe when she mistakenly pulled an old ritual book off the shelf an hour later. But it was there and it stuck.

The pentacle was perfect, aligned to South as the date and time demanded. It would have been better to perform it at midnight considering that nights were longer in this time of the year, but since Harry didn't want to wait till the next day and Hermione didn't dare explain. It should also work this way.

Next were the runes; there was one for each 'concept.' She had no idea who written it so that the needed runes were Animate, Inanimate, Dark, Light, Balance, but it made sense. The more pronounced ones that would be influencing it today were Light, Animate and Inanimate – with Balance and Dark shoved into the background. After all, she wanted it to tip the balance towards Harry.

Her alarm charm beeped and she snapped out of her reverie. It was five past noon; she'd better step into place. The way she instructed the Room of Requirement was to make a window that would only let sunshine through when it was on its meridian. It wasn't clock-noon that was needed. It was astrological noon.

The first beam of sunshine hit the exact centre.


Dumbledore was just about to go down for dinner when one of the wards on Hogwarts notified him of a large magical swirl on the fifth floor. He immediately knew the room involved.

'The Room of Requirement?' He asked himself. 'What could be going on there?'

He started towards the Room in a speed unbecoming of his age and dignity, not that he cared about it. Throwing open the door in rage – no one was supposed to have this amount of power let alone play with it apart from him – he barged into the room and promptly tripped over the side of the pentacle.

"Great Merlin," he whispered as Hermione Granger, previously suspended in the air by sheer magic, dropped to the ground with a thud. She must have lost consciousness too, because the bright lines of visible magic crisscrossing the room started flickering and then exploded one by one. He ducked as a particularly vicious bit of magic broke through his hastily conjured shield.

Slowly, the magical storm started to die down. Carefully, with a shield still in place, Dumbledore walked to the girl. His eyes widened as he felt around for her aura.

It was gone.

A sinister smile replaced his grandfatherly one.

This was his chance.


It had been a long duel - the longest Harry Potter had ever taken part in. Most duels lasted less then a minute, particularly when he was involved. This one was still going fifteen minutes after the first spell had been cast, but it was finally drawing to a close. He could feel the end coming on.

The day had been chosen carefully. Through the skilful application of Occlumency and Legilimency, Harry had been able to discover a day where Riddle would be alone, having sent his loyal followers out and about on an 'early Christmas gift.'

Tom Riddle had fought ferociously, but today would mark his downfall. Harry had been looking for the opening to cast what he needed to cast, and it had finally arrived. With a skilled duellist such as 'Lord Voldemort,' it was almost amazing that it had appeared at all, but there it now was, staring at him in the face.

"Spiritus Portus" Harry cast, willing nearly everything he had into the spell. Riddle watched with some amusement as the spell he had never heard of before zoomed towards him. He didn't bother moving, it was obvious that it wasn't going to hit him.

It didn't. Riddle thought that was the end of the spell, and gave it no further thought.

And that was what killed him.

The spell worked perfectly, opening a portal to the spirit world directly behind him. Harry smirked as he watched it open.

Then he dropped his wand, and with his remaining strength physically charged towards his adversary.

Riddle, not expecting this strange turn of events, jumped to the conclusion that the Cruciatus he had kept Potter under for so long earlier had finally snapped the boys mind. Without his wand, the boy would be defenceless against him. The dark lord raised his wand to cast the final death spell.

But he was too slow.

Harry slammed into his midsection, picking the man up a bit before slamming him through the portal that had opened.

To Harry time seemed to slow, as they both fell. He was able to do the one thing that would enable him to live through the experience: he grabbed the outside of the portal with his free arm and held tight.

A scream penetrated his hearing, only to be snuffed out a moment later. Darkness filled his vision. He released Voldemort's body, and was barely able to make out the figure as it started to float away.

Then another figure floated into view - One he had not seen for a year and a half. There, in front of him, with a big smile plastered on his face, was Sirius Black. Harry began waving, nearly letting go on his grip on the outside, but steadied himself just in time. He tried yelling, but nothing came out. He could make out his Godfathers mouth moving as well, but no sound could be heard. Harry took several seconds to take in the moment. He hoped Sirius would come closer, but there seemed to be something holding him back.

With one last look towards Sirius, Harry began pulling himself back into the real world. As soon as he had completely exited, the portal closed, and Harry's destiny had finally been fulfilled.


Professor Severus Snape, sometime Death Eater and spy, sat in his quarters. If he was honest with himself, he had always known this was how he was going to die: alone. His life had been a symphony of bad choices followed by taking the terrible responsibility for those choices.

But it was finally coming to an end.

He took a sip from the Firewhiskey he had poured over some ice. It was the first time he had actually cooled the drink the Muggle way. He was finished with magic.

Of all the people he had considered he would probably die from, Harry Potter had never even entered the list. Life had thrown him one more curveball, however, and at this very moment, Harry Potter was taking the action that would end his life.

The Dark Mark on his arm would see to that rather well. Each mark held a soul bond with the one who had marked him, and when that person passed into the afterlife, his own soul would immediately follow.

He took another sip.

The end was nearing now. He could feel it beginning to pull at him.

The glass dropped from his hand, shattering on the floor.

There was someone waiting... someone with red hair and a compassionate smile.

Not alone. Never alone again.

In his final moment, one final slipped from his lips: 'Lily.'


Harry felt like a man reborn as he apparated back to Hogsmeade. He was finally free of this bloody destiny and free of Voldemort. Voldemort was gone. Gone for good.

Of course, all credit was due to Hermione. She was the one who restlessly went through nearly the entire library to find anything to help him. There was much to be found on defeating dark wizards and killing them, but unfortunately not even after reading through the entire Restricted Section did they find anything on destroying a spirit as well. That was when Harry, in a bout of desperation, started to contemplate what might happen if they could just send Voldemort directly through the veil. It was like a revelation to Hermione whose eyes lit up and she kissed him.

It turned out that she had researched the Veil of Death in depth when Sirius felt back in the disastrous battle at the Department of Mysteries. She had wanted to find out if there was a way to bring him back, but had found that there wasn't. It was a one-way portal to 'the next great adventure.' Harry did not understand how that would help them, but Hermione explained that she had a chance to examine the portal. She had enough material on it to be able to create a spell that would duplicate the effect.

Good ideas could be born out of desperation.

And now he was finally free.

So many possibilities lay ahead of him now. The thought of Voldemort always made him doubt he had a future at all. He could think about his future career, and one that would definitely not involve dark wizards. He had enough of dark wizards to last a lifetime.

He wondered about all the people he killed that night, before willing himself not to contemplate on it, but not finding the strength to completely avoid it. The Death Eaters all died quick (most likely painful) deaths as the marks that were soul-bonds followed the on they anchored to death. That was actually the reason they could not kill Voldemort outright: he was connected to life through each and every one of his branded followers, and it would have been next to impossible to find them all.

One good man also died.

He remembered the conversation he shared with Snape over a good bottle of Firewhiskey. An empty one by the end of the night, actually. They hated each other very much, thank you, but hated Voldemort even more and alcohol did strange things to people, even to pungent potions professors. They had discussed death, theirs and Voldemort's. Now two of those had been fulfilled. He made a mental note not to forget about arranging Snape - Professor Snape's - funeral. Well, there was no way Hermione would forget about it, anyway.

He felt like skipping back to Hogwarts as he opened the entrance of the Shrieking Shack. True, many died tonight, at his hands more or less, but only one of them deserved any grieving. They all had given their lives to their causes. Too bad they choose the wrong one to fight for.

He stuck his head out too make sure the stone he used to freeze the Whomping Willow was still in place. It wasn't, and the tree was swishing its branches wildly, narrowly missing his head. A well placed charm set the stone back into the correct place and Harry set out towards the castle.

Harry started whistling a small tune and he sent out tendrils of magic to find Hermione. It would have been easier to go up to the common room they shared as Head Boy and Girl to check if she was there, and if not, use the Map to find her. But Harry didn't feel like waiting. He wanted to find her straight away.

A ringing sound warned him that Hermione's magic had been found. He knew that something was wrong, but could not find out exactly what… until he opened the doors of the Room of Requirement.

Hermione was there, laying the middle of a pentacle, and the magic still in the air crackling wasn't connected to her.

Albus Dumbledore kneeled above her, his face full of sadness and disappointment. "She dabbled in the darkest of magic and it turned on her, for she was neither strong enough to control it, nor had the ability to manipulate it." The old man stared at the bloodstained white robe she was wearing and rose with a sigh. "Harry, my boy, where were you?"

Harry's feet buckled under him and he fell into his knees next to Hermione. He put his hands on her chest… It wasn't beating... nor was she breathing…

Impossible…

Hermione could not be dead!

No!

Not Hermione!

He defeated the archenemy, the hero and the heroine were supposed to live happily ever after!

Why?

How?

Her face was so angelic framed by those frizzy locks. She looked like she was merely sleeping.

He bent down to give her a kiss. Her lips were cold and lifeless.

She… was not supposed to be harmed!

She had been in the castle, safe!

How?

Why?

Dumbledore seemed to understand the confusion that was in his eyes and heart. "I'm terribly sorry, my boy. It seems that she attempted a dark ritual of some sort… I think it was a power amplification one."

"Hermione…" Harry said. "Hermione, you can't be dead. See? I'm here. I defeated him, like I promised you! This is just a silly joke, isn't it? Please, tell me it is." He turned towards the headmaster who shook his aged head sadly.

"I'm afraid it's real, my boy," he answered, taking care that his voice did not betray anything but grief. Harry defeated Voldemort? How was that possible? His soul was anchored to this reality by all the marked Death Eaters.

"Magic," Harry's eyes flared dangerously. "That's the cause of everything!" He jumped up and looked around in wild abandon. "Magic causes everything to go to hell… I hated it at the Dursley's, but magic removed me. My saviour! If I only knew then the heartache it would cause me. Hermione," he caressed her face and kissed her once again sitting down next to her. "You were right. We should have just left and let the wizards to deal with their shit. We wouldn't have missed magic at all…" Tears started pouring out of his eyes. "I don't want magic… I don't want anymore heartbreak… I want it all to end…"

"Harry." the headmaster wanted to warn him that words like that uttered where the remnants of a failed ritual were still present were dangerous but he was too late. The pentacle flared up and the fake body he created burn to ashes in a mere second and the foolish "Saviour of the Wizarding World" was lifted up into the air. Dumbledore was thrown against the wall, outside of the pentacle. He watched in fascination as the magic was ripped from the screaming youth's body. These two children had now unexpectedly given him the chance of all lifetimes - on a silver platter.

A couple of seconds later Harry descended with a content, almost enlightened smile on his face. "I'm free," he muttered and looked at the headmaster who slowly got up to his feet. "Could you help me get away from here? I have no magic anymore, so it's no use staying."

Dumbledore was unnerved by the calm smile Harry wore and hastily pulled his hat from his head.

"Where do you want to go?" the Headmaster asked, all too eager to get rid of him.

"As far as it can get," Harry answered. "America would be nice."

"America?" Dumbledore asked back and Harry nodded. "Portus," he cast on the hat, knowing that only a portkey could take a Squib/Muggle that far.

"Good bye Professor. I don't think we'll meet again." Harry disappeared with a pop. Dumbledore walked away from the room. He had another lie to tell, another life to destroy.

He didn't notice as Harry's magic mingled with Hermione's and then both promptly disappeared.