Unlikely Allies

By Ammie Hawk

Summary: Voldemort's been defeated and the Ministry is enforcing a new marriage law. What is Harry Potter to do? How will he cope with a new spouse? And how the hell does a brother fit in to the picture? Slight AU HP verse, ignores DH and most of HBP. 3 years after Endless Waltz.

AN: I found this thing years ago for overcoming Writer's Block, modified it a bit and this is what I came up with. This story has been posted before, however, I abandoned it, thinking I'd lost the general idea, but it recently came back and bit me, so here is my newest attempt at getting this fic up and running.

AU bits: ignores all of book seven, only little things were taken here and there, and most of six, no horcruxes; Sirius, Albus, and several others are still alive; and some people are going to be very OOC.

Prologue: The Fall of Moldywarts

"Hey, Potter," Draco Malfoy sneered at him from his spot next to the double doors of Hogwarts.

It had been a Hogsmeade weekend, the final one of the term, just after the exams, and he was returning early, as he had a meeting with Dumbledore on how best to go about killing Voldemort and fulfilling the prophecy in their favor, as they had done frequently throughout the year.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry gave a long-suffering sigh, used to his rival's taunts and insults.

"I just wanted to give you this," he held out his hand, revealing what looked to be a Remembrall.

"And what would I want with that?" the raven haired teen scoffed.

"Catch!"

Malfoy tossed the ball into the air and Harry, acting on his seeker instincts, reached out and grabbed it. It didn't register, until he felt the familiar tug behind his navel, that this was a trap. He was suspected that Malfoy was a Death Eater all that year, and he'd just waltzed right into it, didn't he.

He landed in, what appeared to be, the entrance hall of an old run-down house. He didn't have a chance to move, or even look around, before a full body-bind was placed on him from behind.

"Tsk, tsk, Potter," the Death Eater stepped from the shadows and peered down at the immobile teen through his mask. "You are so predictable."

The masked figure reached down and snatched Harry's wand from the floor, quickly tucking it up his sleeve before levitating the teen and taking him further into the house. They entered a large room with a raised dais at the far end, on which Voldemort sat on a throne like seat, staring down at Harry.

"Ah, Harry Potter, we meet again," the snake like man hissed in an almost crooning way.

Harry just glared at his enemy, unable to talk from the body-bind he was still under.

"His wand, Severus," Voldemort held out his hand to the Death Eater beside Harry.

The Death Eater, he now realized was his Potions professor, Severus Snape, reached into his pocket and withdrew a wand and presented it to his master with a bow. The Dark Lord took it in his hands reverently, eyeing it with appreciation. Then his red eyes turned to look at his captive once more.

Harry, however, wasn't paying attention to his nemesis. His eyes were focused on the Death Eater that was his Potions professor, which anyone watching would've thought looked like a glare of betrayal and disbelief. Though in truth it was confusion, he knew Snape had taken his wand, but he could've sworn he'd seen him slip it up his sleeve and not put it in his pocket. Could his eyes have been playing tricks on him?

"A splendid wand you have here, Potter," pale tapered fingers ran up it lovingly, before taking an end in each hand and neatly snapping it in half. "Oh, but it now appears to be broken. Tsk," he clicked his tongue, "so much for that. Now, Harry Potter, I am going to kill you. But we can't have you just lying there like that."

He flicked his wand over Harry and the spell binding him fell away. The raven haired teen pushed to his feet and glared into the red eyes without fear. If he was going to die, he was going to face it, not cower on the ground like a whipped dog.

"Very good, Potter," Voldemort gave a chuckling hiss. "Now, before I kill you, do you have any last words? Anything you'd like for me to tell your friends before they follow you in death?"

"Bastard," Harry spat at the Dark Lord's feet. "You'll never defeat me."

Before very surprised crimson eyes, Harry Potter began to change. It took only a matter of seconds before the boy was transformed into a tiger, but not just any tiger, a black tiger with white stripes traveling all over his sleek body, one even shaped like a bolt of lightning on his forehead over piercing green eyes.

"Impressive, Potter," Voldemort shook his head, as if he didn't believe his own words. "But I'm afraid turning into a pussy cat won't save you from death."

The tiger lowered itself to the ground, a low growl emitting from its throat, watching his enemy with calculating eyes. The Dark Lord raised his wand, pointing it directly at the large feline before him. This was going to be too easy, two words and the foolish boy's life would be over. He had thought about drawing it out, but found that with Potter in this form, he just couldn't give him the glorious death he'd planned. If Potter was giving up, fine, he wouldn't be remembered, except as a sad excuse for a hero. But as he opened his mouth to say the curse, the tiger pounced, grabbing his wand hand in a vice-like grip between sharp teeth. Voldemort screamed in pain, trying in vain to pull his hand free from the feline's maw. He felt the bones crush under the weight of the bite and the skin tear as his wand clattered to the floor from his now useless hand.

Without warning, the tiger released him and jumped after the fallen wand. The beast's front paw landed on the thin strip of wood, splintering it into at least five pieces. The pale man screamed again, this time in rage. How dare that whelp do that to his wand?

The Death Eaters around the room stood frozen in their places, unable to come to their Lord's aid. This could've been because of the silent body-bind systematically placed on them while they were distractedly watching the tiger tear apart their master's hand. Harry didn't know who'd cast the nonverbal spells, whether it was an invisible person in the room or one of the Death Eaters themselves, but he was grateful nonetheless.

The tiger prowled over to the Potions Master, his eyes never leaving his wounded enemy. When he was within an arm's distance, he transformed back into a human. Without taking his eyes from Voldemort, he began reaching up the man's sleeve.

"Sorry, Professor Snape," he said sarcastically, realizing the man wasn't petrified like the others, "but since you decided to take my wand from me, I'm afraid I'll have to take yours now."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Potions Master's lip twitched in a flash of a smirk, but it was gone so quickly he could've just been imagining things. Harry almost cried in relief as he felt his own wand slip free of the holster the spy had put it in. He was immensely glad he didn't give away his professor's true position, no matter how much he despised the man, he didn't want to see him dead, as Voldemort was now looking for a wand among his petrified Death Eaters.

"Wormtail, give me your wand!" Voldemort held out his uninjured hand for the rat Animagus to hand it over.

Wormtail didn't move, seeing as he couldn't, but his eyes darted over to Harry for a moment, almost pleading with the teen to come to his aid. Sadly for him, the snake faced bastard caught it. He snatched the traitor's wand from his side and cast the killing curse on him. Emerald eyes hardened at the sight. True, Wormtail deserved a lot for what he had done to Harry's parents, but he didn't deserve to die like that, no one did.

"You've gone too far, Voldemort," Harry growled, sounding almost like his Animagus form. "I'm surprised anyone would follow you. You just killed one of your more loyal followers, for what? For turning to your enemy? Or was it for not handing over his wand? Can't you see, Tom? Every one of your followers is petrified. He couldn't have given you his wand if he wanted to. You are a deranged old fool. Peter knew I'd never come to his rescue, he betrayed my parents. While I might have saved his life once, that was the only time, and it wasn't for his sake. He owed me his life, he knew that. Now what are you going to do, Tom? Are you going to try and kill me with someone else's wand? One whose life was honor bound to protect mine? Or are you just going to stand there and stare at me, like the fool you are?"

Voldemort had been staring at the teen through his entire speech, his red eyes slowly glowing with rage at each word. He didn't register the fact that all his followers were unable to help him, so blinded was he by his hatred. Finally, he raised the wand and pointed it directly at Harry's heart.

"Avada—"

"Expelliarmus," Harry flicked his wand casually, sending the wand flying out of Voldemort's hand. "Did you honestly think that would work? I've improved, Tom. I'm not scared of you. You're just a scared old man, who doesn't want to face death. I almost welcome it. If we both die here, I really don't care. I'll be reunited with my parents. What about you, Tom? Who's waiting for you when you die?"

"Shut up!" the snake faced man screamed. "The only one who's going to die today, Potter, is you."

"I'll destroy you first," Harry shook his head. "Don't you understand? I'm not going down without taking you with me. Try and kill me if you can, but know that you will be going with me into death. Do I want to die here? No, I don't. I'd like to see my friends again and have a family some day. But am I willing to die here? Yes, I am. I'm willing to give up my life so they can have a happy future, without fear of you."

Voldemort's eyes were now so full of rage it was almost blinding, but Harry didn't care, he knew what he had to do. Without warning, the Dark Lord charged at the teen, magic momentarily forgotten.

"Sectumsempra," Harry made a slicing movement with his wand, creating a large gash on Voldemort's chest.

"What's this?" his enemy scoffed, looking down at the blood now soaking his robes. "Not going to just kill me? You may talk big, Potter, but I know you. I can see inside your head, remember?"

"And yet you haven't been looking," the raven haired teen shrugged. "It's not my fault you can't stand to be inside my head. Oh wait, maybe it is. Anyway, if you'd bothered to look, you'd have discovered that I'm not going to be like you. I'm not going to just kill you at the drop of a hat. I don't want to have to kill you, but I, unlike you, know that I need to. There is a prophecy to fulfill after all. And considering that 'either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives,' I take it that one of us is going to have to die. I will be gracious enough to end this quickly, but I will not stoop to your level, Tom. I will not sacrifice my soul to kill you with that curse, even if I do have permission to."

"So, you'll be noble in not breaking the law," Voldemort chuckled darkly, "but inhumane enough not to just end it? All for the sake of your soul? So much for the self-sacrificing Gryffindor everyone expects to save them."

"Inhumane would be my leaving here to bleed to death from that curse I just used," Harry shook his head. "But I'm not going to do that. I will end this, and I will end it swiftly. Accio sword!"

Voldemort looked confused for a moment, but then a faint gleam entered his eyes as he watched the teen waiting for his summoned item. Acting quickly, he dove for his 'borrowed' wand. Once his hand wrapped around it, he rolled onto his back, intending to aim it at the boy, but found a long sword pointed at his throat. His eyes traveled up the blade, then the arm holding it, till they finally came to rest on the green eyes of Harry Potter.

"You're going to kill me with a sword, Potter?" he spat, almost raising his arm but with a gentle nudge from the blade, decided against it.

"I thought it fitting," Harry smirked. "I faced your basilisk with this sword, and defeated it, why not you? Goodbye, Tom Marvolo Riddle."

He brought the sword up in a small arc, as Voldemort raised his wand, and brought it cleanly down across the pale, bared throat. The head separated from the body, mouth open forming the beginning of a spell, and red eyes staring in lifeless disbelief at the raven-haired teen.

Pandemonium reigned in the background as Order of the Phoenix members appeared and began rounding up the remaining Death Eaters, a couple of them had managed to break the spell on them and apparated out, but not many. But Harry Potter was oblivious to it all. The sword of Gryffindor slipped from his hand as he fell to his knees, retching violently.

He felt a strong hand on his shoulder, which gave a brief, reassuring squeeze before being removed. He then felt two people almost bowl him over, and he knew in that moment that it was his two best friends, Ron and Hermione. He turned to his female friend and buried his face in her shoulder and wept.