Disclaimer: I will own Harry Potter - in an alternate reality whereby I'm the one in a cafe writing stories on a napkin and autographing a bust in a hotel to celebrate its end. Otherwise, Ms Rowling holds claim to the favourite boy wizard and his universe.

A/N: SECOND LAST CHAPTER! I should think the last chapter will be quite a long one, so give me some time to write it! I'm sure it'll be worth the wait ;) once again, I can't express enough gratitude to all those who have been supporting this fic thus far by reading and/or reviewing and/or adding me on favs and alerts. I'm really thankful for your support :D it's a short chapter, this one, but I hope you still enjoy it!

It was quiet. That was what he first noticed. Like he was in a vacuum.

Everything before him was a blur. It was not mist, but rather, as if somebody had put images before him and blended them into dim outlines. He could tell he was still in the graveyard, but yet, nothing seemed real.

"Ginny?" he rasped, reaching out. And stopped short. His arm was covered with a sheath of something translucent. But he felt bare, like there was nothing on him. He stared at the rest of his body. The same loose, flowy material covered him, but he could not feel a thing. "Ron? Hermione? ... Malfoy?"

"Hello, Harry."

He spun around, and took a double take.

It was his father. James Potter. Harry's jaw dropped as he saw his father walk towards him.

"Dad?"

James chuckled. "I've missed you, son."

"I'm dead, right?" He stared at the ghostly outline of his father, which seemed to mirror his strange clothing state. Then he saw the woman beside his father. Lily Potter.

"Are you okay?" He didn't wait for the answer to the previous question. He could see his mother's body intact, perfect. She was smiling, and nodding, and he could feel relief bubbling up within him. She wasn't harmed. Voldemort hadn't done...

Voldemort. Harry started to feel panic pump into his veins. "I can't be dead..." His eyes widened. "I can't be dead, no!"

"Harry," said Lily, gently. "I am so proud of you."

"Mum..." Harry stared at her. "I can't... I can't! I need to fight, I need to kill him! I am the Chosen One!"

"Oh, Harry, you cocky fellow," came a familiar lazy drawl, and Harry spun to the back. The shaggy-haired Sirius Black stumbled out from behind a faint tombstone. "Chosen One? Really? You could have come up with a better title! Like Old Voldy's Jinx. Or the Magnificent..."

"Sirius, stop corrupting my boy," said James, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Too late for that." Sirius winked back.

Harry slumped down onto the cold ground. Funny how he could feel the cold when he was already dead. Weren't dead people cold? But that was the least of his worries. Now that he was dead, he couldn't avenge his parents' deaths. Sirius' death. Voldemort would still live on to terrorise the wizarding world.

Wait – what about Malfoy? Harry's gaze landed on his smiling mother. If Lily's body was intact, it meant that Draco had not carried out the destruction of Voldemort's Horcrux. Would he? Or would Voldemort vanquish him as he did to Harry? He cursed under his breath. This was not supposed to happen!

"Harry, you have such morbid thoughts," said Sirius, before Lily could open her mouth. She glared at him, and he shut up, giving a theatrical bow. Just then, another figure materialised, and Harry found himself gaping once again.

"Cedric Diggory!"

"The same." Cedric smiled warmly. "Hello, Harry, I always thought we would meet again. I mean, you know, in a positive way. Look who else is here!"

The white bearded man with half-moon spectacles who had materialised beside Cedric was unmistakeable.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry cried, scrambling up, completely overwhelmed.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore spread his hands. "I am glad to see you. And I am more glad than ever that you remembered my words."

"Sir?"

Dumbledore winked. "Did you not tell Draco about the key to dealing with Voldemort?"

"Yeah." Harry's eyes drooped as he mumbled. "But it's no use now. I'm dead. Draco will be dead too."

Dumbledore sighed, and Harry feared the worst. But Draco had not appeared yet, so it was unlikely that he was dead. He squinted, but could not see anything that was happening in reality. This frustrated him immensely. "So what's happening now? Are Ron, Ginny and Hermione okay?"

"That really depends on you, Harry," said James, slowly.

"Me? But I'm dead!"

"Harry," Cedric began, seriously, and Harry turned towards him. Those sad, brown eyes of Cedric Diggory were haunting; it reminded him of the night Voldemort had killed Cedric, and it made Harry furious. But a little smile tugged at the edge of Cedric's lips. "You were the Triwizard champion. You know that to be a winner, you must have the tenacity to last through everything. You did it before. You can do it again."

"We were joint winners..." began Harry, but Sirius cut him off.

"Oh, come off your high horse, Harry, Chosen One the first minute, and joint winners the next? Harry, you are the only one who can get one over Voldemort!" Sirius' face turned a little darker. "He doesn't deserve to live for long!"

"No matter what, your mother and I are behind you." James came forward to put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Don't worry about my body, Harry," Lily added. "I can assure you do not need to worry."

"Why not?" blurted Harry, bewildered. "The last Horcrux is you! The only way to destroy it is to destroy you along with it!"

"Oh, Harry," Lily shook her head. "The Horcrux is not me."

"What?"

"That night when he came into our house and attacked us," Lily's green eyes hardened, "when the Killing Curse he cast rebounded off you, it never hit me, which was what he believed. Instead, with the curse he cast on you, and the love that I shielded you with, a part of his soul was inadvertently transferred to you. Don't you see, that was why you can see through his eyes sometimes, like when you found out Arthur Weasley was being attacked by Nagini. Why you can speak Parseltongue. It's not a coincidence, Harry, you have a small part of him in you."

Harry could hardly feel himself now, let alone the cloth that was draped over him. "Are you saying... are you saying that I – I am the last Horcrux?"

Lily nodded. She looked at Dumbledore, who continued. "Since Voldemort had the mistaken impression that Lily's body had become his Horcrux, he had sent Bellatrix Lestrange to keep an eye on her grave ever since. He knew that this would be his trump card, because you, Harry, you would hesitate to destroy your mother's body, as you demonstrated earlier. He could take advantage of that hesitation to kill you. It was by coincidence that Draco was there, so that he could manipulate both of you to turn against each other."

Harry felt ill. A part of Voldemort. In him!

"Harry, you're not done with this yet," said Lily, an urgent note in her voice. "You are his Horcrux. Don't you get it? When he killed you?"

Harry stared at her. "You mean – " Suddenly light dawned upon him. "Oh my... so he has destroyed his own Horcrux?"

Lily's beautiful green eyes reminded Harry of his own as they shone. "You are not dead yet, Harry, it is only a passing phase. Voldemort has destroyed his own Horcrux by hand, and essentially that destruction of the Horcrux ripped his soul out of you... somehow leaving you intact. Nobody really knew what it was like to make a person a Horcrux, because it was too dangerous to try. But this has inadvertently allowed your life to be shielded from the impact. Because you are that special, my son, that special." And she leaned forward to plant a kiss on his forehead, that made him tingle from head to toe.

"Because you are that special to have all of us here," added Sirius, a little flippantly. "All of us who are so bored in hell."

"Sirius!" admonished Lily, but James chuckled. He and Sirius exchanged discreet high-fives.

Harry couldn't help grinning. "I'm not dead yet? Really?"

But his grin vanished when Dumbledore waved his hand. Suddenly before him, the faint outlines grew darker, more real, and then he saw the graveyard once again. Ron, Ginny, Hermione suspended in air. Harry's heart sank. Ron – his best friend forever, who had stood by him even till his death. Ginny – the girl who would always back him up as well, because she loved him so dearly, and his heart ached that he should have left her in that state. And Hermione – the friend whom he had thrust into the core of danger by getting her to make friends with Draco Malfoy, and now here she was, frozen, helpless. What had he done?

He could see his body on the ground, lying spreadeagled. But that was not the most horrifying sight. His eyes travelled upwards and saw a weakened Malfoy crawling towards the centre, Voldemort standing at a distance with his wand outstretched, a gleaming evil smirk on his face. Malfoy eventually mustered enough strength to stand up in front of Hermione, wobbly, but defiant. Harry couldn't hear what was being said between Malfoy and Voldemort, but he had a good guess. Malfoy had refused to succumb. His wand was raised.

"NO!" Harry screamed, trying to rush forward, but the image before him flooded into a blur once again, whirling in front of him. He couldn't see his parents, or Sirius, or Cedric or Dumbledore anymore. Everything faded into a grey swirl. All he knew was that he seemed to be spiralling down, down, down...

"Any last words, Draco?"

Harry opened his eyes to that poisonous voice. He tried to move, but he seemed to be stuck. Before he could feel his limbs, there was a sudden burst of green light shooting before his very eyes – it shot out from Voldemort's wand and hit Draco squarely in the chest. Another green light flew from the opposite direction, but Voldemort dodged it with lightning-quick speed. He could not dodge the white afterglow that was reflected from Draco's chest towards him, but he stood firm, eyes glinting with maniacal and sadistic delight. Harry could only watch in horror as Draco's eyes widened from the impact, his mouth slightly ajar, his whole body lit with the green-and-white light bursts.

"Malfoy..." Harry gasped. "No..."

There was a short burst of frightfully triumphant laughter, and it rattled Harry to the bones.

"No..." He stared as Draco collapsed to his knees, his eyes fixed on Harry in a mix of horror, despair and shock.

"NO!" But it hadn't issued from Harry himself; he turned left only to see Voldemort staring in utmost horror at himself. At his body which was becoming riddled with holes of bright, white light. Little, tiny holes that shone, as if Voldemort's body itself held light. "What is happening? What is happening?"

Don't you get it? He could hear his mother's voice. When he killed you?

Then Harry realised what was happening. The cries of Voldemort had stirred up a memory – in the Chamber of Secrets, when he had stabbed Tom Riddle's diary with the basilisk fang, along with all the vengeance in his heart, and Riddle's cries had been just as desperate, just as terrified. Blood started to pulsate through Harry's veins, and touch came back to his fingers as he found himself feeling the cold of the ground once more. Quickly, his hand dove into his robes to pull out his wand. The light from Voldemort's body was getting brighter, stronger. Eating at him.

Upon sensing Harry's movement, Voldemort spun towards him, horror-struck. "You...!"

"It wasn't my mother, you murderer," hissed Harry as he found the strength to stand up. "It was me. You killed yourself when you killed me."

Realisation dawned upon Voldemort. He spasmed a little, but his slit-like eyes were locked onto Harry, a chilling stare. Harry gripped his wand tightly and narrowed his eyes.

A twisted smile appeared on Voldemort's face as a tremor ran through him. "At least I will not die by your hands, Potter, at least I die by mine!"

"Along with mine and Malfoy's, and Dumbledore's, because we destroyed your Horcruxes." Harry's eyes flashed. "But I don't really care, as long as you're gone from the face of this world."

"There will be others, Potter... others..."

"Yeah, we'll wait for them. Meanwhile, you can die."

"Ruthless little creature..." Voldemort sneered. "Talk about a murderer..."

Harry flinched. But just then, Voldemort's wand fell out of his grip as he began to shudder violently. His pale skin grew even paler, deathly-white, as if the light within him was threatening to combust from within. His hands stretched out, those skeletal fingers were reaching out, and Harry felt his scar burn like acid. To his amazement, he saw that Draco had not been keeled over by the Killing Curse; instead, he was gripping his left arm along with his wand, shaking. The bloody lips on his face was a chilling bloom of deep red compared to the white of his face.

"Malfoy..." whispered Harry, willing the blond boy to muster up all the last of his strength.

Draco's eyes met his. They were raging with fervour and vengeance.

Then Harry swung his wand towards Voldemort in a swift, deft movement.

Voldemort's eyes widened with fury and – with an emotion nobody had seen in him for a long while – despair.

Ruthless little creature...

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Harry could hear Draco screaming it along with him from behind.

Two jets of green light collided with Voldemort as he roared, "NOOOOOO!"

With that, he burst into a million light pieces.

In that instant, there was nothing but bright white light. No four walls, no ground even. Just endless bright, white emptiness.

"I'm so proud of you, Harry..."

"Well done, my boy!"

"You are the real champion..."

"Dark times, these are... no longer... Harry, this time, you win."

For a moment, Harry basked in the glow of the bright, white light. It was triumph, delight, relief, exhaustion, sadness all radiating from within, and he closed his eyes to absorb it all.

Ruthless little creature...

His eyes snapped open, and he saw Dumbledore before him. The Headmaster smiled his slow, warm smile.

"Did I do right?" whispered Harry, feeling his insides turn hollow. "I – I cast an Unforgiveable..."

"It's not that, Harry," Dumbledore replied, gently. "He was trying to manipulate you. No, it may be Unforgiveable, but only when used wrongly. You have rid the wizarding world of a dangerous murderer. Along with Draco, the two of you have done everyone a tremendous service."

The word 'Draco' reminded Harry. "Is Malfoy... how come he..."

"Why he was still alive?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "When Voldemort killed you with the power of the Killing Curse, he destroyed his last Horcrux. But it was the most potent of all, because the last Horcrux contains the greatest part of his soul. It took a while for the destruction to take effect. So when he shot the Curse at Draco, it was only less than half the amount of power he should have used. Effectively, he only wounded Draco badly. Furthermore, Draco has his own defenses..." Dumbledore paused, as he adjusted his half-moon spectacles. "This is why, Harry, I said you have done well by telling Draco about the power against Voldemort."

"You mean..." Harry hesitated. "Was that white light that reflected off Malfoy..."

Dumbledore smiled. "He would have died, had he not made it his mission to protect Miss Granger at all costs. He couldn't lose another one he loved so dearly to Voldemort. And that desire was his greatest defence."

Harry could hardly speak.

"I must go now, Harry," said Dumbledore, placing a firm hand on Harry's shoulder. "The spirits and souls of the dead have done their duty in protecting you. But as your mother said, we are all very, very proud of you."

Tears pricked at Harry's eyes. "Thank you, sir... thank you."

-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry found himself lying face-down in the dirt. He groaned as he tried to pick himself up, but his limbs were aching terribly. His head was swimming with all kinds of things. At the corner of his eye, he saw a pile of black robes, drenched in a viscous silver liquid. Wincing, he managed to pull himself up, only to hear someone familiar cry,

"HARRY!"

At once, he was hauled up by several hands, and before he could gather his balance, whoever it was standing before him suddenly came into focus. The wavy red hair, the fierce and intense green eyes...

Harry choked as he stumbled forward and pulled Ginny into a tight hug, allowing the tears to run down his face unabashedly. Then he saw Ron standing by his side, brushing at his face absent-mindedly, and with a rueful smile. Harry sent one back, only to see Ron turn his head towards another sight – where Hermione was now cradling Draco's head with one hand and waving her wand above him with her other.

Immediately, Harry let go of Ginny, took her hand, and stepped forward. "Draco... is he..."

"He's still conscious." Hermione tried to calm herself down, as she stared into those deep grey eyes, which were at half-mast, and his lips were moving, but no sound issued from them. "But barely. None of the Healing spells are working!"

"What happened?" whispered Ginny, her cold fingers clammy against Harry's skin. "I thought I saw you die, I thought you were gone..."

Harry put a finger to his lips. "I'll tell you everything later, Gin. I promise."

"We need to get back to Hogwarts," said Ron, urgently gesturing to Draco Malfoy, who looked a complete mess. Quickly, he knelt down to help Hermione haul Draco up. Ginny held onto Harry, as the five of them limped their way out. Hermione's grip around Draco's waist tightened, as she hobbled him along, her heart racing frantically. She had seen everything – even in her frozen state, when her gaze was fixed ahead, she could hear everything that went on. She had known that Draco was standing in front of her when he absorbed the full impact of the Killing Curse. How he had survived it remained a mystery to her, but looking at him now, she could feel despair overtaking her. He was not going to make it!

"Draco..." she whispered, struggling to keep her voice steady. "Draco, you've got to hang in there. You hear me? You've got to hang in there!"

His eyelids shut for a few seconds, and Hermione's heart nearly stopped. But they fluttered slightly open again, and he looked almost drowsy. A trickle of blood dribbled out of the edge of his mouth, which was caked with crusted, dried blood at the sides. Hermione tried not to make any sound as she reached out with her thumb to brush it off, but she was screaming inside. She was about to walk a lot faster when she realised three figures were making their way towards them.

"Neville!" She heard Ron cry out in hoarse relief. "Neville! Luna! Corrinne!"

"Merlin, what happened?" Corrinne gasped, as she came forth with Neville's support, having somewhat recovered from her earlier injuries. "Did you all... did you..."

"He's done for," said Ginny, flatly, and Corrinne's eyes began to glitter. "But all questions later, we need to get both Harry and Malfoy back to Hogwarts. Especially..." She trailed off, staring at Draco, who chose that very moment to dribble more blood. Immediately, Luna pulled out her wand, and the blood was siphoned off. Quickly, she joined in supporting Draco, while Neville helped Corrinne along in the front. The obelisk in the middle of the town square came to view, and there was slight whinnying from the Thestrals.

"You know," muttered Corrinne, as she, Harry and Draco were first given a leg up onto the Thestrals. "I wish I was there to watch him die, that filthy creep..."

"I think you might have just become immobilised," said Ginny, neutrally. "Like the rest of us except Harry and Malfoy."

Corrinne raised her eyebrows, but caught Neville's shaking head. She bit her lip and said nothing, instead, watching as Hermione mounted the Thestral with Ron's help, holding onto a limp Draco in front of her.

"Can you manage, Hermione?" Ron eyed Draco, whose sides were heaving erratically.

"Yes please, Ron, let's go," pleaded Hermione, and Ron was startled to see how terrified she was. He hastily mounted his own Thestral, and then kicked off. The other Thestrals followed suit, and Hermione found herself rising into the air, clutching onto Draco. She kept whispering to him, but she had no idea whether he could hear her. She just knew she couldn't lose him. Memories were assaulting her as the chilly wind bit into her skin – their first patrol, when Draco had to pry Corrinne off her; the classroom incidents when he first insulted her, and then helped her in front of everybody, driving her furiously insane; the Quidditch pitch where he had shown her a first look at his vulnerability; the library where he had confessed his mission to kill Dumbledore, and the secrets his father had left for him; the Slug Club party where she had to sneak him in with Harry's Cloak; the Horcrux missions in Optimisticheskaya where they had scoured through the caves, fallen through cloaked openings, run through passageways...

The way she was holding him now... it reminded her of how she had to hang onto him when she was barely conscious herself, when they were in the caves looking for Maldash Wentervale. It was bitter irony.

Bitter irony. How angry he had been when he found out she had really betrayed him – even though he must have had suspected her before. But he had grown to trust her. When that trust was broken, he turned his back on her. But then – he couldn't just go off. The way she couldn't just leave him to fight for his revenge just like that. She just couldn't leave him anymore.

"Draco... he killed your parents, he killed Professor Snape... he can't kill you either. Do you understand? He can't kill you either!"

With that, she felt cold, shaky fingers brush against her hands, which were firmly around his middle. She held onto them tightly, muttering a soft prayer.

A/N: I know in canon, Harry is resurrected because of the Resurrection Stone, but this author is rather lazy to insert a brand new explanation of the Deathly Hallows, hence reducing it to a myth. And the actual act of resurrection is not very clearly explained in my fic either, but I don't really know how to make it sound perfect other than that Harry deserves to live, and the act of converting a person into a Horcrux has not been practiced before, hence the unusual result. Let's just leave it at there ;)

And as for Harry taking centrestage here, I don't suppose you can destroy Voldemort without the Chosen One in the fray. If you have read my first fic, I also made Draco and Harry BOTH kill Voldemort at the same time, because I don't know of any other befitting way than to get rid of him than to be killed by both someone who was designated his foe from day one, and someone who formerly worked under him and was forced to the other side because he couldn't take the pressure of being a Death-Eater anymore.