Disclaimer: I does not own. I does not want to. Would be shite if I owned. XD

//This is Parseltongue.//

Note on Avada Kedavra: See the end of OotP. Dumbledore blocks it a couple different ways (the statues, Fawkes, Disapparating). Therefore, we can assume that the Killing Curse being 'unblockable' means 'magically unblockable'. While there is no spell or shield to stop it, ordinary items can. Just clearing that up for anyone who was "WAH HOW CAN A PLATE WORK?!" or more sane variations thereof. ;)

Paraselenic

Nodus // A difficult situation or problem; a complication.

He was in shock. Albus's mind couldn't wrap around the reality of the situation he was now in.

He couldn't believe how wrong he had been. Things had spiraled out of control so quickly, leaving Albus on the receiving end of a Killing Curse from his most prized student. He had thought the boy was merely questioning his place in the war. He had thought that perhaps he was thinking of running away. Never would Albus have imagined that Harry Potter would have defected. His heart clenched as the fear tore through him, the very real precipice he stood on looming dark in his vision.

But everything would be fine. He had used the Repentance curse on the boy and ensured he would see the error of his ways... Albus shuddered to imagine fighting this war without his weapon, but if he could stand against Gellert -- dear, misled Gellert -- he could surely stand against Tom. It was a pity the situation had become so involved, especially with his use of the spell being so public. People would wonder, and word would very possibly get out.

He summoned a plate, transfiguring it in mid-flight into a mirror to reflect the green spell light away. He didn't want to use a live animal, even transfigured, in front of the children, and only a mirror would allow him to direct the trajectory of the deadly curse.

All conscious wonderings stopped with the sound of a voice on his right. "Accio mirror!"

Albus turned with betrayal burning through his veins, meeting familiar hazel eyes. He had just a moment to register the smug vindication glinting in them before his world was lit in a haze of green.

Albus Dumbledore knew no more.

Harry leapt to his feet, wand in his hand without any conscious decision to draw it. "Luna, run to the castle. Get the Headmaster!"

Luna was off and running without question, only pausing long enough to meet Harry's eyes with her own. "It was nice to meet you, though."

He didn't have time to think about the strange tone in Luna's voice or the words that made him second guess himself; there were much more urgent matters on his hands. Harry wracked his mind for a strategy, eyes on the line of figures. Now that he listened, the cracks of Apparition echoed over the grounds, and Harry felt faint as he heard the continuous addition of Death Eaters.

Grawp screamed. Harry stood frozen on the lake's bank and watched the larger giant grip Grawp's head, the snarl on its face decidedly wicked in the moonlight. And then the screams stopped as the larger giant twisted, effectively snapping Grawp's neck and tossing him deeper into the forest. The giant bellowed and beat its chest, and Harry heard a cacophony of roars join him.

He was terrified. Death already had befallen one of their members, and the Death Eaters had not even left the edge of the forest. It was all the more frightening to see white masks within the shadows, the line growing ever wider as the Death Eaters took position. Harry wanted to shout at them, ask why they were not moving to attack, why they were waiting there silently. The intimidation that was likely intended with the move washed through him and forced him to move, turning him toward the castle at a sprint.

The doors crashed open to reveal Albus Dumbledore, moonlight causing his beard and hair to glow. "Harry, you must come inside. It will do us no good to fight in the darkness. The only hope is held within the Light. Inside, dear boy, so we may seal the castle."

"Sir, but what of the damage they could do in the meantime? There are hours still until morning…" Harry's eyes strayed back to the line of Death Eaters, seeing them moving steadily along the forest's tree line towards Hogsmeade. "What of Hogsmeade? Sirius is there!"

"Hush, my boy. Inside with you. Sirius will find his way here, I am sure, but you are the most important person. You must be safe."

"No! I won't run and hide from this!"

"You will have the chance to confront your destiny soon enough my boy. Be not so hasty to run into the lap of danger."

Harry turned on his heel and made to run towards the village, the village that even now the line of Death Eaters was creeping nearer to. He could not leave Sirius in danger. He wouldn't abandon a town to ruin just because Dumbledore wanted him safe through the night.

He only faintly heard a sigh from the Headmaster. "Sopio."

Breathing in calmly, the watcher relished in true freedom. Living decades in layered personas was a tiring affair, but finally they were able to strip them all away, tossing to the side the excuses and ingratiation. Two words had been all it had taken to rid them of over fifty years of lies.

Minerva McGonagall smiled.

Her story was too long to tell, and Minerva had no wish to contemplate the past. But she had been a supporter of Tom Riddle since long before he had become Lord Voldemort, since he had been nothing but a charismatic youth a year behind her in Hogwarts. He had enthralled her early on with his power, and he had easily seen the advantages of having a Gryffindor supporter. Power was the only thing on Tom Riddle's mind at the best of times, Minerva knew. And when Tom Riddle had been turned down for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, he had ordered her into a position in Hogwarts, to watch Dumbledore and subvert any plans he might attempt as Lord Voldemort rose to power.

And so Minerva had waited.

But oh, finally she could be free to join her lord. Dumbledore was gone, as were his manipulations and schemes. In fact, Minerva wondered if she might be appointed Headmistress in Dumbledore's stead, free to teach without that old buzzard watching her every move.

Screams rose in the Great Hall, and suddenly there was a stampede towards the oversized double doors. Students shoved and ran, tripped over their robes or the bodies of fallen comrades. Minerva's eyes trailed to where Potter was collapsed, watching Granger and Longbottom attempt to shield him. That was a surprise, seeing the two Gryffindors protecting their fallen friend despite the revelation of his identity.

Minerva straightened and nodded with approval as Severus pulled his wand out, casting locking spells on the Great Hall's doors and calling attention within the panicked room. This would be a difficult evening… but Minerva had waited over fifty years.

A few more hours wouldn't hurt.

"You will not keep this from, him, Albus!"

Harry stirred at the familiar voice, his consciousness slowly creeping back to him. He wasn't sure where he was; he couldn't even remember when he had fallen asleep.

"My dear boy… do you really wish to impart such grievance on young Harry?"

Anger, hot and fierce, burning through his veins at that voice. Harry tried to move and found he could not.

"It will only harm him more if he is not told! I refuse to be a part of his charade…"

Remus, his mind supplied. But why was Remus there? Remus had a home in Edinburgh, away from the pressures and discrimination of the Wizarding world. He and Tonks stayed away from magical areas like Hogwarts all they could… so why…?

"He will be told in good time, my boy."

Awareness crept in slowly, fog lifting from Harry's mind as the meaning of the words finally penetrated. Something was wrong. Something that Dumbledore wished to keep from him. Something big enough to make Remus come to Hogwarts.

Bone white masks reflected under the moonlight, howls coming from the forest and ringing in Harry's ears…

Harry sat up.

It hadn't been the greatest of ideas to react as such, as the blood left his head in a painful whoosh. Harry groaned, attracting the attention of the others in the room to his bedside.

"Harry! Harry, are you alright?"

"Ungh…" Harry fell back against his pillow, arm going to cover his eyes from the bright light of the room. "What happened? What is going on?"

Magic tapped against his senses, and Harry stiffened. Albus's voice was soft and caring, but Harry's feelings contradicted the kind demeanor. He was angry at Dumbledore. "You are just waking up now. And it is good that you have, as we will need you in this fight."

Fight. Harry suddenly snarled, an animalistic sound of rage. "Why did you put a spell on me, Headmaster?"

"Because you were about to run recklessly into danger, despite all good advice…"

"Sirius!" Harry was sitting up again, the quick motion not as jarring the second time. "What happened to Hogsmeade?"

Harry's eyes focused just in time to see Remus turn away, bloodshot eyes glassy. Harry didn't need confirmation. He felt his own magic wrap around him, lifting his hair and unsettling the pitcher of water beside his bed.

Albus closed his eyes in apparent sadness, but Harry had a feeling it was more in irritation. "Harry, you must get a hold of yourself…"

"This is your fault! Yours, Headmaster! You told me it would be fine! You prevented me from going to him--"

"I prevented you from dying needlessly. You have a much larger part to play in this war than dying ignobly…"

"There would have been nothing ignoble about saving Sirius, Albus!" Remus's eyes had a golden sheen, and Harry paused whatever he might have said in the face of the werewolf's rage. "And there is no telling what might have happened had the Boy-Who-Lived arrived to aid Hogsmeade!"

Harry flinched at Remus's address, but pushed the pain away to meet steady blue eyes. "You stopped me. You didn't let me save him." Grief welled up from deep in his gut, leaving him feeling ill. He was mortified when tears sprang to his eyes and clogged his throat. "You let him die because you didn't want your weapon harmed." He paused and took a deep breath as calm settled within him and certainty steadied his voice. "I will kill them. Every last one of them."

Finally… finally Albus looked alarmed, twinkling eyes widening and his mouth thinning into a serious line. "You are speaking harshly, my boy. Be not so quick to think of death as the answer…"

"Is it really a choice anymore, Albus? The boy has had death laid out at his feet for the second time in his life… and you are daring to deny him vengeance?"

"Death is not the answer, Remus."

Remus looked ready to argue, but the door flew open just as he began, revealing a wild-eyed Lily being supported by a solemn Severus. "Harry, luv?"

"Mum…" Harry, again, felt emotion clog his throat.

"Oh, luv… I'm so, so sorry…"

She hugged him, and Harry felt like there was nothing else that could have calmed him more easily than that. His heart clenching, Harry clung to her like a child. She cooed in his ear and whispered sweet things, touching him more deeply than anyone else would be able to. But as Harry glanced over her shoulders to meet the Headmaster's eyes, he knew this was not the end. And he would have his vengeance.

Severus lunged over the table as the screams began, instinct driving him to seal closed the Great Hall's doors and cast sparks into the air. He couldn't stop himself from glancing back at the smug visage of Minerva McGonagall, who smirked like all was right in the world.

As Severus's eyes moved to the corpse of Albus Dumbledore, he wondered if perhaps everything really might be.

Putting aside the shocking revelations of Minerva's allegiances, Severus's mind turned back to Potter. Potter had done it. Where others had failed, Potter had managed to totally knock the world from its foundation, taking down the very epitome of Light. Things had fallen apart, but nonetheless Potter had managed where no one else could have. Again.

Damned brat.

The spell Dumbledore had used had been unexpected. Severus knew very well what the curse entailed, and Severus beseeched whatever spirits might be listening that he would not have to be the one to explain to the Dark Lord. A chill of foreboding lanced down his spine as phantom Cruciatus pains twanged in his fingertips.

But in the meantime, all he could do was send a messenger to his master, inform him as quickly as possible of Potter's situation. Because the Dark Lord did not take kindly to being made to wait…

There was something short of a riot breaking out now, students pounding fruitlessly at the Great Hall's doors and pushing one another to get a chance to attempt to escape. Severus dually wanted to hit them over the head and save them from themselves, unsure which path to choose.

In the end, Severus pointed his wand to his throat with a muttered Sonorus. "All of you will take your seats. Now."

Whether it was the volume or the tenor of his voice, movement froze in the room. Slowly students began making their way back to their house tables, and Severus sneered down his nose at the pathetic whimpers and lost expressions they donned.

"As of this moment, I declare Hogwarts to be under Ethelred's Law. Staff and students alike are now under the control of only those the new Headmistress designates, and any threat is grounds for harm." He let his eyes glide over the upturned faces, shock and fear plain upon them. Something deep inside of him went cold, but Severus pushed it away. He was not so weak.

He was about to continue when the doors to the Great Hall crashed open, and Severus's eyes widened in realization. Only one person still alive had the magical power to dismantle his wards. Panic set in as Severus wondered just how in Merlin's name the Dark Lord could already know when it had barely happened minutes before.

His lord stormed in with a fierce snarl, reptilian guise in place and aura menacing. Shrieks began anew within moments, but they were silenced immediately with an angry swipe of Voldemort's hand. "Where is he, Severus?" he hissed out in a low tone, easily heard over the now forcibly silenced students.

Severus waved his hand toward the Gryffindor table, toward the apparently petrified Granger and Longbottom. The two looked shell-shocked as they watched Voldemort stalk toward them, masked Death Eaters trailing in his wake. He glanced towards the doors and noted the Death Eaters that had stayed there, blocking off the entrance from any foolish enough to attempt escape.

"Move, silly girl," Voldemort barked, snapping Severus's attention back to him.

Voldemort pulled out his wand and Hermione skittered back, yanking Neville against the table and steeling herself. Voldemort ignored her and knelt down beside Potter's prone form, his wand sailing back and forth in swooping patterns. Voldemort's dark scowl became more pronounced, and crimson eyes were soon flying up to pin Severus into place. "What happened to him? His body is in stasis! Tell me what that old fool has done!"

Severus mentally bemoaned that no spirit had heeded his pleas as he stood straighter, inclining his head toward his lord and speaking in a flat voice. "Perhaps, my lord, we should take the boy into the hall's antechamber? I do not think you wish for our audience to know of Po--Lord Mylläkkä's current condition."

Voldemort looked as if he might protest, but instead he pushed himself to his feet and waved his wand, levitating Potter's body at his side. "Come, then."

Severus bowed and hurried towards the side door, setting wards on the hall's doors to alert him of anyone under seventeen nearing them. He didn't want to leave the children in the care of Death Eaters, no matter his personal feelings on them. Minerva had taken her seat now, and she met his eyes. She was clearly amused at his contrary behavior, but he couldn't care less in that moment. He had enough to think about in regards to Minerva, he didn't need to add onto it her trustworthiness as a professor.

Severus was irritated to see Granger and Longbottom hurrying through the antechamber's door, only slightly placated at their palpable fear. When Draco managed to slip in as well, Severus thought he might take points from Slytherin for the first time in his career. However, the Dark Lord cut off any scathing comments as he spoke.

"Now, Severus…" there was a dangerous gleam in the Dark Lord's eyes, and it made Severus want to back away. "What has happened to Potter?"

Severus sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. "The Weasley buffoon cast a jinx on Potter that revealed his identity to the school. He was a cocky brat, as usual, and it came down to Dumbledore casting the Repentance curse"

"What does it do, Severus? I do not care for your diatribe. I want to know why Potter is currently comatose, and I want to know now," Voldemort cut in, eyes blazing as he glanced towards Potter and back to Severus, a snarl lifting his mouth.

Severus swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling very much like his existence depended on his answer. He could only hope that Voldemort would not shoot the messenger. He tried to put his thoughts together into something less dangerous that would, perhaps, not incite his volatile lord into murder. "The Repentance curse--"

"--Is a very large problem."

Severus turned, aghast that he had not noticed the door opening. In the doorway was a disheveled Dante Pierce, fury coloring his voice if not his expression. Severus glared. "And just where in the seven layers of Hell have you been, Pierce?"

Blue eyes fixed on Severus as the door was pulled shut, and he hoped that he was not making his discomfort obvious. "I was penning a letter, you dodgy fool. And then," Dante's eyes cut to Voldemort, "your ingrate soldiers would not let me pass into the hall. Two are dead."

Voldemort lifted a shoulder indifferently. "I am sure it is no great loss. Now, Pierce, you know this spell?"

Dante looked back to Severus and waved a hand. "Go on."

Severus shifted his weight and glared, but turned to his lord quickly. "The Repentance curse was created as a means of obedience for soldiers. If a commander believed a follower capable of being tempted away, the curse was placed to force regret for their wrongdoings and secure loyalty. It creates a fabricated world within the person's mind, giving a semblance of a perfect world. This is influenced by the caster's idea of such a world, but it is, in large part, a creation of the person on whom the spell is cast."

Voldemort's eyes were narrowed to angry slits. "Then wake him up."

Severus hesitated, breath catching in his throat, again calling on whatever gods existed to save him from this task…

"He cannot be."

Even though Severus had not had to be the one to inform the Dark Lord of the fact, only years of control kept Severus's breath from expelling forcefully as crimson eyes ignited.

Harry rolled his shoulders, sucking in a deep breath and closing his eyes. The bolted front doors of Hogwarts loomed over him, echoes of activity from the Great Hall providing a backdrop for Harry's thoughts. Morning had dawned hours before, and only now were preparations for battle being made. But Harry was ready. No matter what the Headmaster said, he would face his destiny this day.

Harry shook his head, snorting as his thoughts took an exaggerated turn. It seemed the drama and magnitude of the moment was affecting him. Thoughts of battle and heroism, of justice and vengeance…

Vengeance for his losses, for Sirius…

A sharp intake of breath, and Harry clamped his eyes shut. He couldn't afford to think of Sirius now. Mourning would have to wait. For now, he had a monster to eradicate.

"Harry?"

Harry turned to the familiar voice, eyes narrowing when he saw the group of people gathered around her. "Hermione? What is going on?"

Ron was at her side, scowling and turning red around the ears. "We want to fight, Potter. I'm not going to let you have all the glory."

Hermione elbowed him, glaring from the corner of her eyes. "Ronald, belt up. Harry… we are here to help you."

"Yeah, mate. Not like I can really leave you to this by yourself, huh?" Neville gave a strained grin, meeting Harry's eyes resolutely. "I'm always by your side, Harry. Through thick and thin, ey?"

Harry couldn't help the way his lips twitched at the old joke between them, a play on Neville's problems with his weight compared to his own underfed appearance when they were younger. Luna stood off to the other side, a shaking Colin at her side. The boy's chin was tilted up daringly, despite the quivering of his limbs. Lavender was not present, but he wouldn't have expected it. The ones present were the brave ones, the ones that he knew he could count on. Even Ron, for all his pratishness, was someone Harry knew would not waver.

"Guys…"

"And girls!" Hermione added with a small smile.

"And girls…" Harry looked them over. "You realize what you're getting into, right? This isn't like Defense lessons. People die in battle."

Colin looked a bit green now, and the irritated red had drained from Ron's face, but none of them moved away. Hermione continued to be their spokesperson and laced her fingers through Neville's. "We know, Harry. And so long as you will be out there, so will we."

Harry turned back to his silent contemplation of the doors, breathing deeply to calm himself. "Then be ready for anything, guys. I refuse to lose any of you."

Voldemort strode forward fluidly, wand pointing threateningly at the vampire. The pounding of blood in his ears was a constant. He could not have heard correctly.

"What did you say?"

Pierce didn't react to his threatening countenance, only settling back and raising a golden eyebrow. "I said that he cannot be awoken."

Gasps rang out. Voldemort remembered now that the Granger chit and the chubby one had followed them in, and he glanced now to see them as white as a sheet, with Lucius's son staring wide-eyed beside them. He turned back to the vampire with a glare.

"That answer is unacceptable."

A challenging smirk. "Because you love him."

More gasps, shocked at the vampire's gall, and Voldemort's lip curled. "Crucio."

The vampire curled to his knees, fangs bared as a hiss escaped his lips, but he did not retaliate. Voldemort wondered at that momentarily before pushing more magic into the spell, feeding it with his anger. Blue eyes glanced up, anger roiling within them. "Causing me pain will not bring Mylläkkä back, Lord Voldemort. And it is only that he would not want you harmed that stays my hand. And yet, if you do not release me from your spell, I swear I will inflict as much harm as possible while keeping you alive, Mylläkkä's wishes be damned."

Voldemort sneered, not intimidated by the vampire's snarling tone. "You will tell me how to bring Potter out of this trance, or I will kill you. I care less for his good graces than you do."

"And there you stand falsely." Dante seemed to grasp the pain, uncurling enough to stare up into crimson eyes. "Your denial will be your downfall, especially if Mylläkkä is not who you remember when he returns." The spell was released and Dante caught his weight with his hands, breathing deeply and glaring through his bangs. "You are lucky I have already failed Mylläkkä once this day, or you would not be breathing Lord Voldemort."

"Tell me what you meant!" Voldemort wondered if this was what true panic felt like, ice water flooding his veins even as his heart pumped more harshly than ever. "Why would Potter not be as I remember? Tell me before I kill you!"

"Stop!" Voldemort was noticeably surprised as the bushy-haired little chit stared at him with a jutted chin, quivering though it was. "Harry wouldn't wanting you hurting his friends because you are upset. Please, just stop."

"Do you think, little mudblood, that I care what Potter would think? You are as much as a fool as the vampire."

He saw her chest heaving, and nearly sighed for underestimating Gryffindor courage. "I know you care, even if you don't want to. You made those potions for me, you worked all night just because Harry didn't want to kill me. I know you care…"

Belatedly, Voldemort remembered the mental instability of the Granger girl, and watched as she worked herself up. With Potter unconscious, this could only end badly. He raised his wand to fire a curse at her to shut her up, if only to stave off her imminent explosion.

"The world Mylläkkä is in will change him." Dante's sudden proclamation had its intended effect, and Voldemort's attention was turned back to him along with the attention of Granger. The blond stared steadily up at Voldemort, head tilted to the side. "He will break within it."

Long fingers curled and uncurled, and Voldemort fought to retain control. "Explain."

Dante stood and brushed dirt from his trousers, rolling his neck several times before bothering to answer, raking his eyes over the room's occupants. "The spell is in three parts, each feeling just as real as the one prior. Mylläkkä will first be plied with perfection… a flawless world built to feel perfect even when it is not…"

"Harry!"

Harry turned, barely in time to catch the bundle of flowing auburn, arms wrapping automatically around her. "Gin?"

When she looked up her eyes were dry, but Harry could hear the thickness of her voice. "I don't want you to do this. I've changed my mind. Going against the Slytherins is one thing, but these are adult wizards, Harry! I don't… I don't want you be hurt!"

Harry was quite surprised. Generally, Ginny was his biggest supporter when it came to his death-defying antics, oftentimes even going so far as to instigate situations. He met her eyes, frantic and painfully afraid. "Ginny, you know I have to do this."

"Oi, Ginny! What are you doing out here?"

Ginny glared at her brother over Harry's shoulder. "I'm not a child, Ron, and I don't report to you!"

Ron strode over. "You may not be a kid, but you're still my sister! You'd better not be thinking of going out there. Girls shouldn't be…" Ron froze his speech and turned wide blue eyes toward the staircase, where Hermione stood with a dark expression. Ron forced on a smile and turned back to Ginny, rubbing at the back of his neck. "What I mean, 'course, is that I don't want to see you hurt. Nothing to do with gender. No siree."

Shaking her head with one last glare, she turned back to Harry, fingers tightening on the collar of his robes. "Harry, don't go. You don't have to do this. Please, just come back to the tower…"

Harry looked down and felt his heart twist. Perhaps she was sometimes shallow, and he was coming to understand that his feelings for her were not what they should be… but at her core, Ginny was a good, kind girl. As he pushed at her shoulders to dislodge her, wrapping his fingers around her wrists to keep her from grabbing hold once more, he felt a piece of himself detach. "Ginny, you know better. I have to do this. There is no option for me. Alright? Just go up to the tower with Lavender. I will be back."

"No!" she shook his hands from her and planted her own on her hips. "You're treating me like my brother, Harry! I won't stand for it! If you can fight, so can I."

Ron began to bluster in the background, but Harry merely raised placating hands. "I won't stop you if you want to fight, Gin. But it's got to be your own choice--"

"Harry, come here."

Harry would never admit to jumping as high as he did in that moment, whirling around sheepishly. "Uh, Severus? When did you get here?"

A sardonic brow rose, and Harry hurried forward. As soon as he was close enough, Severus had his biceps in a bruising grip and was yanking him forward. "Harry, what in Morgana's name are you thinking? Is it not enough that you must fight? These… these children should not be a part of this."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Harry could hear the frustration coloring his own voice. "I don't want them anywhere near the fight. But you know they'll just come anyway, even if I tell them no. I can't stop them any more than you can."

Verdant eyes rose to meet black, and Harry cringed to see the depth of the lines around Severus's eyes. He looked so tired, so worn. Severus had aged almost as badly as Remus, but so long as he stayed relaxed it was harder to tell. But in that moment he looked twice his own age. Severus nodded and released his arms, fingers raising to tug at a forelock of Harry's hair. "You're right, brat. But please, for your mother's sake if for no other reason, be safe."

Harry clasped his hand on Severus's forearm and squeezed, a true smile tilting his lips. "I will. For all of us. Watch over Mum for me."

Severus melted away into the shadows, and Harry turned back to his peers to find them watching with varying degrees of obviousness. "Alright, you guys, we need to go into the Great Hall now. I won't let Dumbledore hold off this fight much longer."

There were no cheers or smiles, only grim acceptance. Harry closed his eyes momentarily as he stalked towards the doors, wishing these others had not needed to grow up as fast as him. But he had little impact on the way of the world, and could only hope to end this conflict before anyone else was lost.

"And then slowly the perfection will be ripped away. Because what is true loss if not losing everything you've ever dreamed of? There are shreads of truth even within the falseness of the perfect world. Long buried hopes, dreams from as early as childhood. The world gives these things and then takes them away."

"Lily, no!"

Harry's heart stopped in his chest at Severus's bellow, his entire world freezing. He paid no heed to the spells that still zipped by him, ignored the frantic shouts of his comrades and enemies. His entire existence was centered on the raw desperation in Severus Snape's voice, and the knowledge of what it meant. He turned just in time to see Severus wrap his arms around Lily and topple to the ground… Just as a giant's club came down upon them.

Harry felt anesthetized, without conscious control over his movements. He no longer felt pain from his minor wounds and scrapes. He didn't have to put thought into his movements. Even when he finally managed to dislodge himself from the void that had swallowed him, the numbness stayed behind.

Harry didn't know where the preternatural cold came from, but he grasped it thankfully and let it consume him. His body moved of its own accord, and he found himself rolling beneath malicious spells, darting forward to connect an elbow into the masked face of an attacker. Spells he had no earthly way of knowing fell easily from his lips, and the screams and panic around him fell away. Sirius and Lily and Severus were pushed to the farthest reaches of his mind as he confronted Death Eater after Death Eater.

An orange curse sped towards him, and he dropped to the ground to avoid its trajectory. He rolled to his feet behind a tree and turned to fire a curse back at the Death Eater who had attacked him. Instantly reacting. Merciless. Unfeeling.

His godfather was dead, and now his mother and Severus as well. He supposed it was more kind that Severus go with Lily, because with the man's devotion to his mother, Harry could only imagine what her loss would have done to him. Everyone he loved was being picked off around him. But he couldn't care, he couldn't falter. There were more important things… things like killing the bastards who took them away.

Blood. The sight of it had made him ill since he was a child, but now he yearned for it. A cutting curse well-placed severing the throat of an adversary, the screams of the dying filling his ears. And something within him relished in the pain and death, even as the rest of him slid complacently through the motions.

Someone approached from behind, and Harry spun with a curse on his lips. Blond hair stopped him, and he lowered his wand a fraction before turning away, seeking his next victim.

"Potter."

Harry ignored the voice, ignored the reality of a person speaking to him because he refused to deal with reality. There was death, there was vengeance. There was nothing more.

"Potter, stop this foolishness. The Dark Lord is coming. You must…"

Harry snarled and pointed his wand back, a small smirk lighting his features as it jabbed into soft flesh. "Get away from me, Pretty, or I will strike you down like the Death Eater you are."

Lucius's breath sucked in audibly, but Harry was already making his way back toward the fray, sidestepping bodies of the fallen without a glance.

And then pain became all he knew as his forehead ignited. His hand flew up, palm pressing in a fruitless attempt to stop the searing agony.

Hissing laughter came and the pain abated, enough for green eyes to crack open. Brilliant crimson eyes set in a paper-white face. Dark hair laced with gray. It was Lord Voldemort without a doubt.

And Harry remembered.

"And then he will be broken, driven to the brink of madness by recrimination. The spell has a damning flaw which made it fall out of use after the war it was created in. Because even though it often produces the perfect soldier, broken and willing to serve, a puppet in the hands of the caster--"

Voldemort scowled, and Dante found this most amusing. He wondered if Voldemort realized he had reverted to his natural form and that it was a very obvious sign of his distress. Dark hair was perfectly in place, but his skin was sallow and pinched lines made themselves noticed around his eyes. Dante almost felt something like regret in that moment, knowing the conflicting emotions he was creating. Dark Lord or no, and as unfeeling as he purported himself to be, Voldemort was still a man. And he was a man whose lover was currently cataleptic would never awaken as he once had been.

"I refuse to believe that Dumbledore could so thoroughly subvert Potter. The boy is careless, but he is not an imbecile. He is too stubborn to allow himself to be taken over as such," Voldemort hissed.

Dante raked a hand through his hair in agitation, before checking himself and pushing the emotion down. His own self-recrimination was great, but he could not imagine the situation Voldemort was in. There was no doubt to Dante of where the man's heart laid. "It is as you say, Lord Voldemort. However, the spell requires the subject of the curse to regret and repent for the things they have done. If Mylläkkä does not honestly repent, the spell will kill them, tearing away all traces of sanity and shutting down his systems from shock. And so it comes down to this, Lord Voldemort: what do you think the chances are that Mylläkkä will atone for his sins?"

"Tom…"

There was no blinding light of epiphany, no pain of assimilation or moment of rhapsodic reunion. Harry simply blinked… and in that moment he knew. Truth surrounded him, and his breath caught. None of this was right. What had happened to bring him here?

"Well, well, well… Harry Potter. Isn't this fortuitous?"

Harry sneered right back at the Dark Lord, raising his hand to flip his hair, only to find it shorn. He shook his head and lifted his eyebrow. "Maybe for you, Tom, but right now I'm feeling a bit under the weather."

A brief flash of confusion passed over Voldemort's features before he controlled himself, drawing himself up haughtily to look down his nose at Harry. "It seems you have brought your wit to this meeting, Potter. Pity you'll have to die, so soon after discovering how to have a proper verbal exchange."

The tone was familiar, malicious with a hint of banter… how many times had Tom snarked at him from over the desk with the same baritone drawl? Harry swallowed and shoved his mounting insecurities under his humor. "So sure of yourself, Tom. But, you know, there is an easy way out of this? I can kill Dumbledore over there, and we can skip merrily into the sunset. How's that sound?"

Harry heard several gasps, but he simply stared into Voldemort's eyes, fingers clenched at his side. This was wrong, all wrong. This was not his Tom. He wasn't nearly as good looking as his Tom was, Harry remarked snidely to himself as he tried to quell his panic. Nose too flat, hair too thin. Obviously he had gone about breaking the block on his Metamorphmagus abilities in a different way.

Harry couldn't bring himself to fight back as Voldemort strode forward and wrapped spindly fingers around his neck, lips a hairsbreadth away as a wicked grin curved them.

"You are bold, Harry," Harry shivered at that voice saying his first name, and an inane regret passed through his mind that he had never broken his own Tom of calling him Potter. "It is too bad that it will not save you."

As the yew wand entered his vision and he felt it press against his scar, Harry began to struggle. "Tom, please don't do this."

"Goodbye, Potter. Avada Kedavra."

And darkness surrounded Harry, leaving him with three words just short of his lips.

"I love this, I love this, I love this, I love you, don't fucking stop or I'll kill you, I swear it!"

Voldemort stared forward, thought processes halted with not-so-distant memories playing behind his eyes. He had never felt so detached in his life, and yet he felt filled to breaking with emotion.

The only clear thought running through his mind was simple, and it rang painfully with its truth.

Harry would die, because Harry would never ask forgiveness.

As a note about McGonagall, credit for the idea goes to Blanche Flower. :) She inspired me with a well-thought idea back in chapter five, and linked me to an LJ artivle that was a really amusing take at how Minerva could be evil. So I ran with it. Thank you, so long after the suggestion was given. :) PM me if you want the article, it is made of awesome. Or just Google "McGonagall is a Death Eater" and you'll find it.

Revised: 3/21/09 (How long was the scene between "And Harry remembered." and the scene with Voldemort gone? I know for a fact that it was there when I uploaded, but it was just... missing as I edit now. OMG. I can't imagine how many people were confused, since that one is the one that explains everything! Ugh! It is back now, though.)