A/N: Brace yourselves, the last chapter awaits you.

...

The Malfoy Manor was not a dark cold place, nor was it damp. Really, it was a relatively normal house if you ignored the way it screamed rich and the fact that it was oozing with Dark magic. In fact, the whole operation had started out a little anticlimactic – Snape had let them under the pretence of having heard something outside and now they were walking calmly down a corridor where the greasy git had assured them no one would go.

Around Sirius the younger members of the Order were talking among themselves, pointing out ancient ornaments and admiring the marble walls. Sirius rolled his eyes. Even if he hadn't had the advantage of having been here a few times before, they were on a bloody mission, not some sort of tour. Being distracted was a sure way to get them all killed.

Sirius was proven right when a big snake slithered from around the corner and those same people, busy chatting, walked right into it. He sighed, pushed past them and with a movement of his wand and a green light the snake laid dead at his feet.

The same idiots who'd nearly been bitten started discussing morals (...again) and whether or not allowing Sirius in the Order was a good idea. Normally he'd have retorted with a jab that would have put all their stupid moral high grounds to shame, but there was a niggling feeling in his chest he couldn't ignore. Something was off about that snake. Almost as if...

Sirius didn't have time to finish the thought before he had to duck as a curse flew over his head and hit the wall behind him, sending cracks through the marble. Right, another ambush. Three missions and each one of them went pear-shaped. It almost felt like going through the motions, casting spells and conjuring objects to protect himself from Unforgivables.

Suddenly the seven Death Eaters who'd been ordered to get rid of them all grabbed their forearms and Disapparated, some grinning madly.

'What, did they just give up? Cowards,' spat Nigel. He was nineteen and clearly had lived an extremely sheltered life before joining the Order. Death Eaters did not just give up.

'No, obviously they didn't,' Sirius explained. 'Clearly Voldemort gave them another task and they –'

He broke off as a glowing phoenix appeared and spoke in Dumbledore's voice, 'Battle at the Ministry. Abandon the Manor,' before dissolving into transparent dust.

Sirius broke the ensuing silence by saying, 'But what about Harry? Are we supposed to just let him go?'

'Dumbledore told you to go to the Ministry, that means you go, forget about your godson,' said the sheltered idiot from before and Sirius felt a spike of rage. Forget about your godson. The world would be better off if Nigel never had kids.

'Where's your moral high ground now, huh? You don't just forget about someone,' he snapped angrily, aware that he was holding them back but too worried about Harry to care.

'Sirius,' Minerva said gently, 'if we don't go to the battle now then Voldemort will win and then we'd have even less of a chance of getting Harry out.'

She had a point, Sirius conceded in his head as he rushed off with everyone else, trying to ignore that if Voldemort was attacking the Ministry, then that must mean Harry was –

...

White.

That was all Harry saw when he opened his eyes. Just endless white and silence. True silence, not the kind of silence when clocks continued to tick and refrigerators whirred, but you just didn't notice it.

As his other senses came back to him, he noticed that he was cold. And naked.

Immediately he wished he had something to cover himself with. If this was the afterlife then he didn't want to begin his death in such a spectacular fashion. He gasped when robes appeared in front of him, waiting for him to put them on. That was something he'd have to get used to.

'Harry,' a voice called the moment he was dressed. It sounded familiar, but Harry couldn't place why – until he turned his head and came face to face with his parents.

Well. That was another thing he'd have to get used to.

'Mum? Dad?'

His parents smiled.

'Come here, son,' his mother beckoned and he lost himself in his parents' embrace. It was warm and comforting and everything that had ever made him happy and it was home. Maybe he was crying, maybe his parents were, too; it didn't matter. Nothing did except this moment and the feeling of being locked in their arms like he'd always dreamt of when he was lying half-starved in his cupboard or trembling all over after a Dementor attack. He was home.

Eventually, he pulled away. 'What now?' Harry asked, for endless nothingness wasn't how he'd imagined the afterlife would be.

His parents' smiles dimmed. 'Now – well, now you get to decide,' said his father and there was something bittersweet in the way his eyes raked over Harry's features, so identical to his own and yet just different enough.

'Decide what?'

'Whether you live or die.' His mother looked like it physically pained her to say that.

'But... I'm dead.' It felt like stating the obvious, but it was the truth. He'd been killed; dead people didn't usually have a choice.

'It's because of the Horcrux,' his father explained. 'Voldemort's Killing Curse only killed the piece of his soul that was inside of you. And since you technically had two souls and only one of them is dead, you're in between the afterlife and the living world. So you get to choose.'

'I can't leave Sirius and Hermione and Ron and everyone else,' Harry said slowly. 'But I don't want to leave you, either.'

'You have to make a choice, dear,' said his mother and Harry could see the tears in her eyes. In the back of his mind he knew which choice he would make, but he couldn't let his parents go just like that.

'Can't I stay for a little bit?' he asked desperately.

'You have to make a decision quickly, or you'll stay anyway, regardless of your choice,' his father said gently. 'I know it's hard.'

'I must come back. But I can't leave you.'

Harry could hear the anguish in his own voice.

'Harry,' said Lily and that was all that needed to be said.

'Are you proud of me?'

'Always.'

And then their voices were but a mere echo in Harry's mind as he felt himself fading away... and away... and away...

...

Horrible body-numbing cold was the first thing Harry became aware of and also the thing that proved unmistakably to him that he was back in the real world.

Unable to take it, Harry shot up – and fell back into the snow as a jolt of pain set his chest on fire.

And that was the second thing. Who knew being hit with a Killing Curse could hurt so badly.

Trying a second time, Harry gingerly stood up, rubbing the place where he was hit, and sighed in relief when he didn't immediately fall over. As he became more cognisant of his surroundings, he noted with interest that having been to the weird limbo place had had a good effect on his body, as the marks that the torture had left on him had faded into scars and the tremors had ceased. He also didn't want to laugh himself silly anymore, so that was something.

Apparently the Death Eaters had dumped his body in the woods not too far from where he'd been imprisoned (Malfoy Manor, as he'd found out a few days in), as the trees were thin and Harry could see the lights from where he was standing. Probably someone from the lower ranks; Lucius Malfoy would have cut his body into pieces and burnt it to a crisp.

Harry started walking in the lights' direction and came upon a person standing on watch right at the entrance to the forest. Being without any kind of weapon, he quickly hid behind a tree and identified the person as Dedalus Diggle when the moonlight hit his face as he turned around.

Now, normally he'd have announced himself and let Diggle take him home – but in his tired state it didn't occur to him, and so he did the next best thing – surprise-tackled him from behind, grabbed his wand and Stunned him before he could do more than let out a small yelp. Luckily, the wand was a fairly good fit for him. Just in case, Harry took the Portkey home that all Order members had and cast a Warming Charm so the man wouldn't freeze to death.

That done, Harry cautiously approached the Manor. There was no way he was going inside, so he went around and stopped at an open window from which he could hear the sound of a party. Clearly, Voldemort had decided to celebrate his death, though Harry couldn't imagine him taking part in it himself.

He'd almost gotten bored of listening to the Death Eaters shout with glee when an alarm sounded. Immediately, all sounds of partying ceased and Voldemort's high cold voice rang out, 'It seems the Order finally decided to rescue their Chosen One.'

So that was what Diggle had been doing near Malfoy Manor.

'You,' presumably, Voldemort pointed to someone, 'go take care of them. The rest of us will go to the Ministry. Without Harry Potter to oppose us, it's time the wizarding world learnt its place. Severus, you stay behind.'

The air was filled with cracks as everyone Disapparated. That was a battle Harry wouldn't miss, but he needed to know why Voldemort needed Snape.

There was a thump and Snape said in a voice full of reverence, 'My Lord.'

It was strange hearing his normally intimidating Potions Professor speak to anyone in that tone. Normally he made the students fear him, but now it was him who was cowering in fear. Sirius would say he deserved it.

'You were a very faithful servant to me.'

'My Lord?'

'Were.'

Harry didn't need the flash of green light to know what had happened. Sirius had told him that Snape would be killed eventually and that it was a miracle he'd stayed alive that long, but it still came as a bit of a shock to him to know that the man he'd hated for so many years was dead.

He couldn't dwell on it however. Now that Snape was dead, Voldemort would waste no time in setting out for the Ministry and Harry had to be there. Quickly, he ran back to where he'd left Diggle and activated the Portkey. Appearing on the living room floor of Diggle's home, he went straight to the fireplace and Floo-ed to a Department not far from the Atrium – since that was where the battle was bound to be, Floo-ing there directly would be suicide.

Harry paused only to conjure a black robe and pulling up the hood, he went to join the fight, anticipation pooling in his gut.

...

'So how does it feel to know that you killed all your friends, cousin?' Bellatrix taunted as she sent curse after curse at Sirius, who blocked them all and pelted her with Killing Curses that she mercilessly deflected. He was long past not doing anything more lethal than Stunners as he'd done in the First War; he'd been young and naive then and, as someone who saw the world in black and white, thought that to do otherwise would be to stoop to Voldemort's level.

He didn't think so anymore.

'How does it feel to know you don't even have any?' he retorted, laughing when Bellatrix screamed. Riling her up had always been fun because the bitch could never take a joke. If he was lucky, that would be her undoing.

Sirius felt a spike of fear shoot through his veins as someone rammed into him and sent him sprawling to the floor. Desperate, he cast another Killing Curse, hoping against hope that it'd hit the target.

It didn't. But in dodging Sirius's spell Bellatrix stepped right into the path of Molly's.

Elated, Sirius sent her a thumbs up from where he was sitting on the floor and scrambled to get up before he got hit as well.

He needn't worry, though. Caught up in his duel, he hadn't noticed that the battle had ceased. The reason why became apparent when he turned around – Dumbledore was lying in the middle of the Atrium with the unmistakable expression of death on his face while Voldemort walked around victoriously. A hushed silence had fallen over the crowd and no one dared to utter a sound, not even Voldemort's side.

'It is never too late to surrender.'

Sirius felt growing dread.

'Join me and you will be spared. You have nothing left.'

Why was Voldemort talking like this?

'Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore are dead. There is no one left to fight for you.'

And his insides went cold. But before Sirius could process what he'd just found out, another voice rang out, 'You are wrong.'

He'd know that voice anywhere.

'Harry,' Sirius breathed and he thought he might fall over with relief. For his godson stood there, hood back to reveal emerald eyes shining in their intensity.

Voldemort yelled in rage and let loose a barrage of spells, all of which Harry dodged, his Quidditch training shining through. He then said loudly, 'I don't want anyone to try and help. It's got to be me.'

'But –'

'No, Sirius. I don't want anyone to get hurt trying to save me.'

Against his better judgement, Sirius put up a shield, separating Voldemort and Harry from everyone else. He knew he couldn't stop his godson if he tried and simply Stunning him would put him in even more danger than he was in now.

'I'm so proud of you, Harry, so, so proud. Defeat him for me, will you?'

Harry nodded and turned his attention to Voldemort, who hadn't said a word. From where Sirius was standing, he couldn't see Voldemort's face, but it probably looked angry and more than a bit bewildered. After all, he'd apparently thought Harry was dead. Another thing to ask him about when this was over.

'How are you alive?' Voldemort finally exclaimed.

'I was a Horcrux. When you tried to kill me, only the part of you that was in me died.'

Ah, so that was what happened. Merlin, to think that he could have lost him... Because they hadn't counted upon that outcome at all, hadn't even dreamt that Harry could survive such an encounter.

Enraged, Voldemort fired off at least twenty Unforgivables, forcing Harry to dodge what he could and Conjure objects in the way of the rest of it and Sirius was so proud and terrified at the same time, he thought his heart might explode.

'Perhaps one of your Death Eaters wasn't as faithful as you thought,' said Harry, answering Voldemort's unspoken question. 'All of your Horcruxes are gone. You're mortal.'

Harry, snake, diadem, cup, locket, ring...but that was only six. Harry must have thought of something he, Sirius, hadn't.

Harry smirked, but his expression quickly became one of alarm when Voldemort started chuckling. He turned to his Death Eaters and proclaimed, 'As usual, Potter did not use his brain. He has one big flaw in his plan, you see.'

Voldemort turned to Harry again and Sirius heard the grin in his voice.

'He thought me being mortal would make a difference.'

And then Voldemort was fighting, truly fighting, and Sirius could see that whatever he'd done before had been child's play. This time Harry was losing within five seconds and everyone could see it – even Sirius. And he tried to take down his shield desperately, but his hand was shaking and his wand wasn't working –

Finally, Harry conjured a stone wall to protect himself, but it was very thin and Voldemort's next curse destroyed it. Ignoring the shards of stone raining down on him, Harry's eyes briefly filled with hate and he sent a single Killing Curse –

Sirius suddenly felt fear and dread like nothing before –

And both wizards fell.

For a moment, there was silence. Complete and utter silence. The kind of silence, Sirius would reflect bitterly later, that people called dead.

Then a scream erupted, and it took Sirius a moment to realise that it came out of his own mouth. It sounded like an animal, something unearthly and inhuman, but at the same time far too human for it to not be the most painful thing Sirius had ever felt. The closest he'd ever come to feeling such pain was when he'd seen James' dead body by the staircase, but somehow, this hurt far more than even that. It felt like the part of him that had been left alive after he'd lost James had just died, leaving him without a soul, without his very essence.

He was barely aware that the silence had been broken, the crowd finally breaking out of their stupor, as he ran to Harry and turned him over, scrambling to grab his arm and searching for a pulse, begging everyone and everything from Merlin to God that he'd find something.

But Harry's hand was limp and cold in his, and Sirius screamed once more, this time only barely coherent enough to form the word, 'NO!'

If he'd thought walking into the Potters' house while there was a Dark Mark in the sky, Azkaban or the sleepless nights when it all got too unbearable were bad, then it was all nothing compared to this. Losing Harry was like having his heart and intestines ripped out of him while he was still alive.

Sirius was barely aware that he was crying until the tears soaked his face and his throat hurt from sobbing. He buried his face in Harry's chest, and the body was still warm, and it almost felt as if nothing had happened, and maybe he could pretend that it hadn't, that Harry wasn't –

As Sirius wept for Harry, he thought back to the knife which lay securely in his drawer.

The knife which once helped numb his pain.

The knife which would soon take it away once and for all.

...

A/N: HAHA, TRICKED YOU –

Damn, I feel evil. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story and I have a few more fics in progress for those who liked my writing. For the people who were here back in 2019 and read the old version, please do review and tell me how you liked this version compared to the old one.

Again, I hope the story was up to your tastes.

On that note, peace.

– the (crazy) author