Phoenix Burning, Chapter 34

Lord Voldemort whirled around, only to recoil with a hiss, red eyes wide with something that might, perhaps, have been fear. Then he raised his wand, and Severus realized with a shock of horror that it was not even his at all, but Dumbledore's. Oh, Merlin. there was more than one way to force a wand to change its allegiance, but the most common of those was simply to kill the previous owner. Did that mean...? "Severussss," Voldemort hissed, sending a cold shiver down Severus's spine. Gods, he hated the way Voldemort liked to say his name, and he knew the bastard knew it, too. "So you think you have a chance against me?"

Severus responded with a nice wandless incendio, which shouldn't have even been possible. But then, literally becoming a human phoenix was probably supposed to be impossible too. Voldemort dodged, a little more fear twisting his inhuman features, but before Severus could even be certain that was what it was, his erstwhile master had regained his composure. "I trusted you, once," he said conversationally. As if that abomination had ever trusted anyone. "You could have been great. You could have been the highest in my inner circle; I might even have made you a lieutenant. Insssstead, you betrayed me."

"I think you betrayed me long before I did you," Severus retorted, flinging several curses in rapid succession, any one of which would have rendered Voldemort insensible with pain and at his mercy. It wasn't just that unforgivables were harder to cast now, with the light magic that bubbled in his veins, either. He wanted the creature to suffer, to suffer for all the children he'd killed, for all the lives he'd ruined, for all the muggles he'd tortured, for all the cruciatuses he'd cast. He wanted, not to kill him, but to annihilate him.

Voldemort's wand-hand twitched. "Why fight me?" he said, instead of making a response to Severus's quiet statement; indeed, there was no way he could truly refute that. "Why throw your life away over nothing?" He swept an arm out, as if showing off the aftermath of the battle like a fine artwork, the wounded and dying on both sides and the inferi rising up to blindly attack those they had defended in life, Miss Chang staggering back from her erstwhile friend in horror, Harry's mute (and, for the moment lifeless) body, the horrified and injured Order members witnessing all of this, and on and on, encapsulating all of the destruction that he had caused. "Thisss is what happenssss to thossse who rissse against me. So why fight? I will allow you to return...make you my lieutenant...you alwayss wanted power, Severussss..."

Severus spat in his face. "I joined you once. Never again," he responded, shooting off a blood-scorching curse. The fact that it was wandless, which should have been impossible, did not even register.

"Why fight, when you have no chance? Now that Potter is dead, I am invinssssible."

Severus's dark eyes gleamed with the fire rising within him, swirling around him. Dimly, he was aware that his feet had left the ground, that he was floating in an aura of his own power. "Despair thy charm," Severus quoted, letting the flame curl in warm tendrils of pure light magic on his palm, pooling in his hand. Behind him, the fire was swelling up like a strange set of wings, arching on either side.

Voldemort looked nonplussed, as well as scared, as did most of the other wizards, considering that none but the muggleborns had even heard of Shakespeare.

"You are remarkable narrow-minded," Severus continued. "Especially for a Slytherin. The prophecy does not say that Potter is the only one with the power to kill you, nor that you are safe if he dies. As a matter of fact, it could be a muggleborn born on the same date, or a child born premature. And considering that Potter is indeed dead at your hand, the prophecy is fulfilled. Thus, there is nothing stopping me from killing you right now. Nothing at all."

"Not when I have taken such precautions as I have," Voldemort hissed, although he looked rather worried now- at least, that was what Severus guessed that expression was, as Voldemort was not human enough to tell without any doubt.

"What precautions would that be?" Severus said, a mocking tone having entered his voice now. "You mean this precaution?" he asked, removing Gaunt's ring, which he had taken to wearing after its decontamination, and throwing it at the monster's feet. "Or this precaution?" he added, as the locket followed the ring. "Tom, your precious little trinkets can't help you now, and even if you did manage to kill me, I don't think it'll stick."

Voldemort backed away, slit-like red eyes narrowing. "Who are you?" he hissed, raising his wand. Severus might have made some snide remark, might have spent more time enumerating the wrongs that the Dark Lord had done to him, and to his Slytherins, and to the wizarding world in general. Instead, he let go of his occlumency shields and a wave of white-hot righteous rage poured over him, kindling the phoenix fire still higher. In an instant, the wand was ripped out of Voldemort's hands. For a moment it hung in the air, revolving slowly, and then it flew into Severus's hands. A spray of silver shot from its tip as it accepted him, and Voldemort, for the first time, seemed truly and abjectly afraid. He turned to run, but Severus cast a petrificus totalus, and the Dark Lord fell, still bound, at his feet.

"You would not dare kill me," Voldemort managed through partially paralyzed lips, though it was more a question than an actual statement, as if he was more attempting to reassure himself.

There was a time for monologuing, a time for trading spells in flamboyant duels. And there was a time for ending it all, for sending Tom Riddle back to the dark forces that had raised him to be the scourge of the wizarding world.

Severus responded with a calm sectumsempra, and the Dark Lord died in silence. And then he became aware that the Great Hall was dead silent, and that all eyes were fixed on him, save for those who were trying to subdue the inferi still mindlessly attacking. Even those, however, were turning to stare as the inferi lost animation, like puppets whose strings had been cut all at once, their puppeteer having died. Not that he cared. His only concern right now was his students. And Harry. Merlin, where was Harry? At that moment, there was a sudden blaze of sapphire fire, and all eyes whipped around. Harry rose to his feet unsteadily, his own sapphire blue fire swirling around him. "Professor? Sirius said..." It was then that the boy caught sight of the body lying in the center of the Great Hall, spider-thin pale limbs splayed limp and lifeless. "Is that...?"

"Yes Harry," replied Severus, lowering Dumbledore's wand, hand shaking. He was so tired, now that the adrenaline of battle had worn off. He had, after all, just died. But then, so had Harry. "He's gone. Permanently."

Harry grinned so widely that Severus was worried he would hurt himself. "It's over. It's finally over. Oh, gods!" And then he was rushing to his friends, inquiring about the wounded, embracing all of them in a soppy Gryffindor dogpile before going over and hugging him. Severus stiffened, frozen- never, in his entire time as a professor had a student dared to touch him, much less hug him. But then, never before had he killed a dark lord or come back from the killing curse, so there wasn't really any precedent for any of this. And so he cautiously returned the embrace.

Then it was Luna Lovegood, fluttering up to him like some large moth to kiss him on the cheek, giggling. "I'm glad he's gone," she whispered, as though telling him some great secret, and then ran off in a flutter of scarves and corks to tend to Ginevra Weasley, who was lying motionless at one corner of the Great Hall. Severus simply stared after her, raising one hand to his cheek.

"H-how can you be so sure he's dead?" asked Minerva then, her voice shaking. "How...?"

"That's what I'd like to know, too," said Flitwick. "What kind of magic was that?"

"Phoenix magic," Severus replied. "I...I'll tell you the full story later. Is Dumbledore...?"

"Alive," said Pomona, who had just gone to check.

Severus gave a quiet sigh, glancing out across the hall. Littered with bodies, broken wands, and rubble, and decorated with streaks of blood and pockmarks where spells had been cast and had missed. It was over. It was finally over, and after so many years living in fear of the Dark Lord, after so many years as a spy, he didn't know what to think, except that he was free. And he slumped back against the wall, eyes sliding shut of their own volition. He probably should take a pepper up and tend to the wounded, but he needed to rest. Madame Pomfrey could take care of those worst off, and he could get the others tomorrow. Or she could just put them in medical stasis. It didn't matter. He had all the time in the world, and beyond it, too.

Finis

This has been such a journey, you guys! I am so grateful to all of you who read and followed and favorited and left reviews on this story; you would not believe how happy it makes me feel! There will be a sequel; watch out for Phoenix Triumphant, the second installment of what will be called The Phoenix Chronicles...