Harry could barely see through the pain in his scar. His heart was in his throat and he struggled to stay upright. How could he have been so stupid?

After all their planning and their talking and his determination – and Dumbledore's – to keep his friends away from this final moment, here they all were, together. Dumbledore, of course, was not.

Before Harry could even finish processing his thoughts, before he could yell to his friends to run, to send a Patronus, anything, three more figures stepped out of the shadows to stand next to their master. Two Death Eaters Harry recognized as Dolohov and Avery, and . . . Snape.

Harry found his voice.

"You!" he screamed. "I always knew it was you! That's how he knew to be here tonight, isn't it? You've been on his side all along. You even fooled Dumbledore!"

Behind him, Harry could hear his friends yelling too. They had all been walking together and they were still too close. Why didn't they run?

In front of him, Snape inclined his head in agreement of Harry's words. "I must avenge Draco's death, Potter. And the Headmaster is so trusting, so willing to believe that I have changed. It was almost too easy." He gave a little bow towards Voldemort. "As I promised, my Master."

And then Voldemort spoke in the voice Harry remembered from the graveyard and the Department of Mysteries and his nightmares.

"You did well, Severus. You have redeemed yourself after letting Malfoy fail so miserably. But this is better. Much better. Appropriate that we come full circle right here. You saw me here in your first year, Potter? Remember? My only mistake has always been to rely on others to do what it is clear to me that I must do myself.'

"No!" a voice screamed at him. A flash of red at the side of Harry's vision and Ron was standing next to Harry And Hermione was next to him and Ginny had stood on his left. Luna and Neville were in the line too, and they were all loosely arrayed in a semi-circle, wands out.

"You want Harry, you go through us first," said Ginny menacingly. Only Harry could hear the tremor of fear in her voice.

Voldemort laughed. "Oh, it would be quite a pleasure to go through all of you first," he said. "You are all the children from the Department of Mysteries, aren't you? I know you are good fighters, but I don't think you will be good enough. Run along home now, and no one else needs to get hurt."

No one moved. Voldemort shrugged. "As you wish," he said. He looked at the three men standing with him, and Harry realized that Nagini was curled at his feet as well. "Leave Potter to me. As for the others, you know what we have discussed."

In the tiny instant of silence, Harry said the only thing he could think. "I love you all," he choked out. "Ginny . . . "

And then the battle began. Immediately, Voldemort focused all of his attention on Harry. It was like watching him fight Dumbledore at the Department of Mysteries, but this time, Harry knew from the start that he was going to lose. He was not nearly powerful enough to fight for long and Voldemort was slowly moving him away from the others with his spells, and it was taking all of Harry's concentration to respond at all. He through everything he could at the wizard, and dodged and shielded himself at every turn, but it wasn't enough. He couldn't bind Voldemort with smoke or create monsters out of air, and he doubted that Experlliarmus would work a second time.

He knew his friends – his love – were fighting too, he could hear them yelling and feel the heat from the hexes and curses that flew back and forth, but Voldemort had been tracing a circle around Harry and pulling it smaller and smaller, burning the ground around him so he couldn't move until he was frozen on a tiny patch of earth, molten fire scorching the ground so that if he stepped in any direction, he would burn.

"Enough!" shouted Voldemort, and he shot a spell to Harry's right. Harry turned his head just far enough to see his friends – all five of them – upright, huddled together. He could see where the Death Eaters' spells had hit them, Hermione was clutching her arm, Ron had a vivid bruise on his cheek and Ginny was bleeding from a gash on hers, but they were alive.

Harry realized that like them, his friends were unable to move, that Voldemort's spell had bound them to their spot and that he was going to force them to watch his destruction. But they would not be silent.

"You will never win!" screamed Neville.

"Loser!" yelled Ron. "Snape, you are a coward and a liar!"

Ginny didn't scream. "Harry," she called. "We are here, with you to the end. Don't forget that."

"I love you," he managed again and then there was a bang and Voldemort had silenced them all.

"So sweet," he said. "Your declarations of love. Useless, of course. That was always Dumbledore's biggest weakness, thinking that love was more important than power and strength. He will understand, finally, how wrong his was." He turned towards Harry "Your friends have fought for you, quite bravely. To no end, but still, they showed courage that I could use in the future. Maybe not the Mudblood," he said, looking at Hermione, "but I'm sure we can find some purpose for her too. I wonder what Greyback would think."

At this, Ron's face turned almost purple and Harry watched as he struggled against the bonds that held him. Voldemort chuckled. "Ahh, I see. The Mudblood and the blood traitor. Well, that will make things more interesting later."

"Let them go," Harry said dangerously. Voldemort showed a tiny moment of surprise that his silencing charm hadn't held. Then he shrugged. "Oh, I will let them go, if you want. I will let them all go. On one condition."

"Anything," said Harry. "Take anything from me. Just let them go."

"I think you know what I want," Voldemort said. "Draco was not able to get it, but I will have no trouble. And I think I have the perfect vessel for it too." He turned to Snape. "Severus?"

"Of course, my Master. Dumbledore was more than happy to let me have it, to study for curses and jinxes, of course." He walked over to a tree and for the first time, Harry saw the sword of Gryffindor leaning against it. Snape carried it over to Voldemort. "This will make an excellent Horcrux, my Master."

Voldemort's red eyes gleamed as he took the sword. "Perfect," he said. "This will be perfect." He turned to Harry. "As I said, I will let your friends go. But only after you stand before me, without your wand, and allow me to end this once and for all. What do you say?"

Harry had no choice; he didn't even pause to think. "Of course," he choked out. "Take it . . . take it out of me. Do whatever you need. Just . . . spare them. Please. I'm begging you to spare the ones I love."

"Love. Until the end, you put your faith in love," sneered Voldemort. "Those with power learn, eventually, that love is worthless. Drop your wand, Harry. And stand before me with only your love to protect you. Let's see its power then. I'll even let your friends talk to you while you die."

Harry dropped his wand and closed his eyes. His scar was inexplicably hurting less, but there was a pressure in his chest that was growing. He could hear his friends calling to him, as if from far away. They shouted declarations of encouragement and love and hope and it was unbearable and yet wonderful at the same time. He heard Voldemort chanting and it sounded like the words Draco had been saying before he had burst into flames. The pressure in his chest was growing but he didn't open his eyes, and then the words, spoken with more power than Harry had ever heard . . .

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPH

Harry came to awareness slowly. He was lying on solid ground but it did not feel like the dirt of the forest. The light in front of his closed eyes was much too strong, the air too still. He opened his eyes slowly and looked into misty white, swirling air. Nothingness but everything all at once. He was naked, but then suddenly clothed in warm, soft robes. Gryffindor colors, he noted.

Was he dead? Had it worked? Were his friends safe? The questions crowded his brain as Harry pushed himself into a sitting position and tried to figure out where he was. He had thought that death might be peaceful, but for now, Harry still wasn't feeling any peace with the wondering.

A piercing, wailing cry broke the silence. Under a bench, quite alone, a horribly flayed, mewling figure huddled on the ground, curled into a foetal position and shuddering in terrible pain. Harry was at once drawn to it and repulsed and he stood in front of it indecisively for a long minute, wondering if there was anything he could do to help.

"You can't help, my love, although I know you want to."

The voice came from behind him. Harry turned, and his heart leapt into his throat. Walking towards him were three figures. For a single moment, he thought, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and he was devastated to think that Voldemort had not kept his promises, that he had killed Harry only to destroy those more important to him too.

But then the mist cleared and Harry saw, really saw. His mum, dad, and Sirius were walking towards him. And Sirius had that gleam in his eye and his dad was laughing but Harry's eyes first sought out his mum. And for the first time he could remember, he looked into eyes that were exactly like his own and a second later felt the enveloping love that only a parent's hug can give.

He was not at all embarrassed that he cried. His mother held him for what felt like forever but only a moment, and then he was in his father's arms too, and then Sirius', apologizing over and over for his stupidity at the Department of Mysteries. Sirius waved him off.

"Turns out Dumbledore was right," he said. "Kreacher was a horrible piece of work, but I never showed him any respect or understanding either. I should have known that living for so long in that house would make anyone go round the bend."

"Am I dead?" Harry still wasn't sure.

"What do you think?" asked his dad.

Harry paused, thinking. "I don't feel as . . . peaceful . . . as I thought." He looked at the trio. "Don't get me wrong, being here, with you, it's the best gift I could ever imagine. I never thought . . ." He stopped, as tears threatened again. He sought out his mum's eyes. She was smiling at him, a loving, proud smile that he should have been able to see for things like winning the Quidditch Cup or achieving his Owls. "Mum, I don't know . . ." he began.

Her smile grew wider. "Oh, but I think you do know, love. Yes, you are welcome to stay, if you want. You can come with us right now, and the peace you seek will grow, eventually. Or, you can decide to go back. Finish what you started."

"I want to go back." The words ripped out of him almost involuntarily. Harry didn't want to see his parents' faces at his words, but when he looked at them, they were both smiling. Sirius' grin was almost a leer.

"You had an agreement, with a certain young lady, did you not? And I don't think it has been fulfilled," his godfather said. "I feel that it is my duty to ensure that you absolutely do not die a virgin."

"And mine as well," said James solemnly as Lily swatted at them both while Harry felt his face turn red. Ten minutes with his parents and the conversation was already on sex? He sputtered, and his dad gave him an indulgent smile.

"Don't be embarrassed, son. I promise, if we had lived, you would have had it much worse."

And Harry understood they were giving him a taste of all he had missed, all he couldn't have because of Voldemort. And his heart swelled and he nodded.

"But how?" he asked. "When I left . . . when he did the Avada Kedavra, Voldemort had already said the spell to pull the Horcrux out of me. He was going to put it into the sword of Gryffindor. And I . . . since was the container, his spell should kill me."

"Ahh yes, the unintended Horcrux," said his dad. "It has lived within you for a long time, it has."

"It has done everything it can to survive," added Sirius.

"It changed you, and changed the way your friends saw you," nodded Lily.

"Yes," said Harry. "But I learned to fight that. We all learned to fight it."

His mum nodded. "It changed you, but being in you, changed it too. Why do you think Draco was unable to kill you? Why do you think he died instead?"

"I . . . I'm not sure," Harry admitted. "I thought it was because he wasn't strong enough. To beat the Horcrux, I mean. And because the Horcrux saw him as a threat. But Voldemort is much stronger, and he has finished the spell to reclaim the Horcrux in me. And it's a piece of his own soul, isn't it? So of course, it wants to serve its Master."

"Ahh, but you are much stronger too," said his dad. "To stand in front of Voldemort, without your wand, and declare only love for those closest to you, that is a power that he knows not."

"Love?" Harry was unsure. "That's enough?"

"That's everything," said Sirius. "We can't see for certain what will happen, but I don't think this is over."

"We love you so much," said his mum. "And we will be watching. Always."

Harry felt that pressure in his chest again. It was growing, threatening to burst out of him. Not painful, but all consuming. His parents and Sirius were starting to look a bit blurry around the edges and Harry knew he didn't have much time left with them.

"I love you all, so much," he said.

"We know," said his mum.

"Go get them," said his dad.

"Snape, Snape is there!" Harry suddenly remembered.

Sirius nodded. "The git. Kick him in the shins if you can."

"But . . . and I can't believe I'm saying this, but after you kick him, give him a break. He's a braver man than I would have ever expected of him," said James.

"Tell him I'll always love him," his mum said.

Harry couldn't ask any more. His parents and Sirius were walking back away from him and he wanted to keep their images in his mind as long as he could.

"I love you," he thought. "I love you so much. I love . . . Ginny."

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Once again, Harry was lying on the ground, but this time, he knew without opening his eyes he was back in the forest. It wasn't quiet, exactly, but neither was there the yelling commotion he had left. There was muttering in front of him, where Voldemort had been, and to the side, he heard the quiet sobbing of a number of different voices. The pressure in his chest and the pain in his head were more intense than he had ever felt and the disorientation they caused was almost overwhelming.

The sobbing became louder and seemed to surround him and the muttering faded away. He could pick out each of his friends, from Hermione's quiet no, no, no, to Ron's it can't be, it just can't, to Luna's dreamy he sees the veil and passed through. But more than any others, Ginny's quiet sobbing pierced him. He couldn't no focus on the sound; it seeped into his brain and took away some of the stabbing pain. And the pressure in his chest grew.

Harry forced himself into a sitting position. Across the clearing, he could make out the figures of Voldemort and his two Death Eaters, huddled on the ground. Avery and Dolohov seemed to be attending to their master. Snape was upright, wand held loosely in his hand. He was looking at Harry with an inscrutable expression.

And between them, the fog that Harry had seen in the Room of Requirement hovered more thickly than he had ever seen it. It blurred Harry's vision but made him warm, and as he watched, it expanded to wrap itself around his friends.

Voldemort was getting to his feet, fear and shock on his face. And Harry stood too, picking up the wand he had dropped earlier, and felt the fog deepen.

In the back of his mind, he kept waiting to hear his friends the moment they saw him and realized he was alive, but now the fog had covered them so completely, Harry could see nothing but the dimmest of shapes.

And Voldemort himself looked blurry. He held his wand in one hand and when Avery handed him the sword of Gryffindor, he took it as well. But almost immediately, he dropped it as if he had been burned, like Draco had been. But Voldemort did not burst into flames. He raised his wand at Harry and screamed words that Harry could not hear. The fog between them was like a living thing, and Harry could see two heavy, glowing points within it, circling them. One was dark and fractured and hovered near Voldemort. The other was similar, but softer and paler and darted around in front of Harry as if it was a small dog looking for a bone.

Harry was suddenly reminded of the web that had surrounded him and Voldemort in the graveyard; the fog had the same feel of separating them from the rest of the world, making it just the two of them. Harry felt an anticipation like never before. He knew, somehow, that decisions were being made by the forces flying between him and Voldemort. He closed his eyes and thought of his friends. He thought of his parents, and how wonderful his mum's arms had felt. He thought most of all about Ginny, and how much he wanted to be able to fulfill so many promises for her. Promises he had never dared voice out loud.

The lighter, darting shape circled the fog surrounding Harry's friends and it cleared for a moment. Eyes met and Harry's heart filled as he saw the five reclaim hope.

The heavier shape was still fighting though, and for a minute, seemed ready to swallow the lighter one whole. Harry raised his wand, not sure any spell even existed for this situation. And then the dark shape rolled towards his friends and Harry turned away from Voldemort and screamed a Protego, opening himself up to whatever the dark wizard wanted to do.

But instead, he was crumbling, before Harry's eyes. His skin became flayed and raw, and he dropped to his knees. His wand fell out of his hand and as Harry watched, the darker, heavier shape – the piece of Voldemort's soul that had resided inside of the Dark Lord and kept him tethered to life, hit Harry's shield and exploded. But Voldemort was still alive, screaming in agony and calling for Snape's help. The other Death Eaters were backing away, and as Harry watched, Snape lifted his wand and Stunned each of them. He looked at Harry.

"Did you see her?" Harry knew he was talking about Lily. He nodded. "She said she will always love you," he called, the words sounding foreign on his tongue as he spoke to his nemesis.

Snape nodded too. "Thank you," he said simply. He looked briefly at Voldemort, who was rapidly morphing into the horrible figure Harry had seen. "Your master, Nagini," said Snape. And the snake slithered up to Voldemort and dissolved into him and Voldemort crumbled a little more.

Harry looked at the last piece of soul left. The lighter Horcrux that he had carried inside him for almost sixteen years. He closed his eyes and concentrated, pouring all the love he had to give, and all that had been given to him, into the tiny point of light. It had tried to kill him, yes. But had also tried to protect him, and in doing so, had become less of Voldemort and more of Harry. He understood now.

"Be free," he thought, and the tiny light grew bigger and bigger until it chased away the fog and both disappeared together with a tiny, insignificant pop.

A moment of absolute silence, and then suddenly Harry was surrounded. He wanted to scream with joy and crow with relief and laugh and yell and hug. But first . . .

"Wait," he said. "We need to make sure . . ."

"He's dead. Completely." Snape was still standing across the clearing. "You destroyed his soul and the last piece chose not to return to him. It killed him to protect you."

Harry arms had found Ginny while Snape was talking and he felt an overwhelming desire to just whirl her away somewhere where they didn't have to listen to anyone else for a while. But he knew this victory belonged to many, so he kissed her on the forehead and turned back to Snape.

Ron was talking. "You . . . when we were fighting. Your spells, they kept . . . just missing us. Was that on purpose?"

Snape bowed his head. "I . . . would rather not speak of it. I have . . . promises that must be fulfilled."

"My mum," Harry said, suddenly understanding.

"I would rather not speak of it," Snape said again, with a little more of his familiar malice this time.

"Of course, Severus, ask them to keep secret the best part of you."

Dumbledore was striding into the clearing, a wide smile on his face. He walked up to Harry.

"You wonderful boy. You brave, brave man. You did it!" The Headmaster was giddier than Harry ever remembered seeing him. His arms were wide and to Harry's surprise, the blackened hand that had sickened Harry all year seemed to be healing.

"But sir, what did I do, exactly?" Exhaustion was threatening, but Harry had to know.

"You proved that love really does conquer all," said Dumbledore. "Including the darkest, most evil soul. I first suspected that it might be, changing allegiances, when you stopped becoming so ill in my presence. That you were able to find a way to fight it so quickly, and that your strength drew on the love and loyalty you and your friends have for each other, should not have been a surprise. And I believe, that just as the Horcrux caused your personality to change for the worse, for a time, so too did your own strengths eventually overcome its evil."

"But your hand. And Snape . . .?"

"Professor Snape, Harry, made sure that you were all here, together, and that Voldemort knew you would be. For the element of surprise only strengthened your determination to save your friends, and I believe it gave you more power to fight the evil as well. As for my hand . . ." The Headmaster looked at Snape. "a curse tied to a life force?"

The potions master nodded. "He never suspected you would outlive him."

"So, Harry beat Voldemort twice tonight." Ginny's voice was assured. "Once because he beat the Horcrux and once because he beat the man."

"A fine way of looking at it, Miss Weasley," said Dumbledore. His eyes twinkled. "Although, I daresay that his task was only achievable because the rest of you helped him do it."

"That's right," said Harry. The adrenaline of the past weeks and days and hours was almost gone, but he knew how important it was to say this first. "I only found the strength to fight it because I knew I was fighting for all of you."

"Fighting for the right to snog my sister, you mean," quipped Ron. It broke the intensity of the moment and suddenly, they were laughing – real laughter that wasn't trying to hide their fear or fake anything.

And in the middle of the laughter, Harry heard Ginny's sudden sharp intake of breath. He got there a minute later and looked at her, a smile playing on his lips. Her eyes were dilated and she was looking at him with the intensity he loved, and he could finally look back without having to worry about breaking her heart. And it was the voices of Sirius and him mum and dad he heard in his head as he leaned in to kiss her in a way that, at any other time, would have been appropriate only for the most private of spaces. "It doesn't have to be immediately, anymore," he whispered to her. She understood what he meant and nodded.

"When we are ready," she said.

"Most definitely," replied Harry, now thinking of nothing more than taking Ginny up to Gryffindor tower for a long nap, a shower, a snog, and a sandwich, although maybe not in that order. "I have a promise to keep to my dad and godfather."

A/N: And, it's done! (Again, lol). I will write outtatkes at some point, but I have the rest of the Reversing Course to finish and then I do want to get back to Servant of Death. What is is with me and stories about the Horcrux inside Harry that make me procrastinate? It hopefully won't take me another ten years to get that one finished.