Chapter 19

~*~ 8 years ago ~*~

Harry wasn't sure he had heard anything in the last fifteen minutes. The kitchen of Grimmauld was packed and Dumbledore had been outlining exactly what had happened and what their next move was going to be. Harry's pulse was crashing loudly in his ears and everything felt as though it was underwater. He felt sick and dizzy, unable to fully comprehend that, after everything, this was it.

Severus had stayed close to him and the man's hand was currently resting in the small of his back, the only thing that was grounding him. Everyone else was listening with grim faces, casting looks around the room as Dumbledore spoke. Molly and Arthur were standing next to one another, their faces pinched as they looked at their children; George had his arm wrapped around Hermione's shoulders, holding her tightly while Ron and Draco were standing close, their hands entwined. Everyone looked as distressed as Harry felt and the situation felt too surreal to properly comprehend.

From what he could make out, between the moments he drifted in and out, Voldemort had moved his army to an encampment in an old castle in Dorset, just as the Order's intelligence had predicted he would. He was about to make his final stand and had gone to this castle specifically to invoke an ancient magic that was supposed to be held within the ruin's walls; it was vital that he was stopped before he could achieve this.

"And so we will be attacking before dawn," Dumbledore said, the words ringing around the room and it seemed to Harry as though the whole kitchen took a collective breath, as though the walls had actually closed in just a fraction.

"I need a minute," he whispered to Severus, casting a wandless cloaking charm over himself as he left the room and took the stairs two at a time up to the library.

He took a few deep breaths, his heart racing, then he moved over to the shelves, looking at all the books he'd been poring over for the last few weeks. He grabbed them all and splayed them out on the table, trying to get his mind to focus, to find the one book that would give him the answer he needed.

He knew what he wanted to do, he could see the answer so clearly in his mind but he didn't have the confidence to fully enact it. If he could just find the right spell, the exact method, he could face the bastard with confidence and put an end to him once and for all. There was a whole room of people downstairs, people he loved, who were counting on him and if he couldn't do it they would surely die.

He felt the weight of it as a physical thing pressing down on him. His shoulders felt as though someone was standing behind him, pushing him down, and his chest was so tight it felt almost like it was a struggle to breathe. He had one chance to get this right and if he messed it up the world would never be the same again.

"Are you alright?"

He looked up to see Severus standing in the doorway, casting an eye over the strewn books on the table.

"I um…I just…I'm not ready," he said, his voice a hollow whisper.

"Harry, you're an exceptional wizard. You have immense power and staggering skill; you've trained as hard as you can and you won't be more ready than you are at this moment."

Harry shook his head and said, "I'm not a match for him, not yet."

Severus crossed the room and stood in front of Harry, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders and saying, "If you think like that then this fight is already lost."

"Will you stay with me?" Harry asked. "I don't think I can do this without you."

Severus moved his hand up to rest gently on Harry's cheek and said softly, "There's nothing that could keep me from your side."

"I'm so frightened," Harry confided quietly. "I know it makes me a coward but – "

"It doesn't make you a coward," Severus insisted firmly. "I'm frightened too but I believe in my heart that we'll come through this, that we have what it takes to defeat that bastard once and for all."

Harry moved forward and wrapped his arms around Severus, drawing himself into the man's embrace and burying his face in his shoulder. He clung on, knowing he was probably holding Severus too tightly but wanting to draw all the strength from him that he possibly could. He wanted it all to be over, to be lying beside Severus after they'd made love with nothing to worry them, no pressures weighing down on them, knowing that there was a future ahead of them to be lived and enjoyed.

He pulled back and took a deep breath as he steeled himself, meeting Severus' eyes and saying, "I can do this. I will do this. I'll put an end to that bastard once and for all, I'll free us both from his grasp."

He heard footsteps on the stairs and Ron appeared in the doorway, looking at them both apologetically as he said, "You're both wanted back downstairs. We're making plans to move out, Dumbledore's assigning groups."

"Christ," Harry breathed. "You ok?" he asked Ron. "You look how I feel."

"We all knew it was coming, still doesn't feel real," Ron replied, and, try though he might, Harry couldn't see the face of the 11 year old he had met all those years ago in the face of the man in front of him. "We'll have a hell of a knees-up when this is all over, I'm going to drink champagne until I pass out," he said, forcing a smile, and Harry did his best to return it.

They went back to the kitchen, Ron slipping back beside Draco, who looked sombre and anxious. Harry stood close to Severus as they listened to Dumbledore outlining who would go where, a holographic layout of the castle and its surrounds behind him as he mapped out their manoeuvres. Harry looked at it, at all the little dots that represented the people standing in the kitchen with him and he couldn't stop himself from wondering whether all those dots would still be alive when everything was over.

Dumbledore proceeded to make some kind of speech but Harry didn't have the heart to listen to it. He wasn't interested in rallying cries and promises that couldn't possibly be kept, nor was he interested in hearing about how far they had all come together and the glorious future that awaited them. He couldn't think of a future, he couldn't think of anything beyond the next five minutes; if he tried he was sure to drive himself mad.

"I think," Dumbledore said, looking down at the pocket watch within his robes, "the time has come for us to depart."

Harry had the sudden insane urge to ask if anyone needed the loo and he had to stifle the stupid giggle that threatened to bubble up from his chest. He looked at Severus and the man nodded at him, a silent affirmation that he would remain with him, come what may.

Everyone assembled into their assigned groups and, one by one, they apparated to their destination. The night was black, not a star in the sky, and Harry looked up at the castle ruins, not a sign of life anywhere to be seen. He knew there was a powerful cloaking spell in place and immediately squashed down the insane hope that no one was there after all and they could all go home and live to see another day.

He watched as two teams approached the ruins from either side, knowing he couldn't move until Voldemort and the Death Eaters had been flushed out. Severus had been right; battle did sometimes involve waiting and Harry wondered if waiting was actually worse than fighting. The teams attacked and the cloaking spells were lifted, chaos ensuing soon after. Harry felt helpless waiting and watching, but he had been instructed that his team was to wait until the majority of the Death Eaters had been dispatched.

The night sky was lit up with flashes of spells and Harry tried to see who was fighting, tried to see what was happening to the people he loved, but everything was too chaotic and he could barely make out one shadowy figure from another. The peace that existed mere moments before had been utterly shattered and Harry's ears rang with the noise that tore through the night's thick atmosphere.

"There's too many of them," Ron said, his face grim. "I don't think we can wait any longer."

Severus and Harry exchanged a look and Harry nodded. "Let's get in there. Last one to cast a hex buys the first round," he added and Ron forced a smile before they all shared one last look and cast themselves into the fray.

Harry didn't think before he took out a handful of Death Eaters with one excellently-executed curse, nor did he give it much thought when he took out a second bunch, his instincts kicking in and his magic coursing through his veins like water. He was casting wordlessly and wandlessly, his power so strong that no one was a match for him. He was trying to disable where possible, to render his opponents impotent but he knew, with sickening certainty, that he would kill more than one person before this night was over.

Severus was fighting beside him, the man a force to be reckoned with, taking out his former comrades one by one with stunning precision. He had taught Harry well and Harry was beyond grateful for the man's expertise and the many things he had learnt under his tutelage. The shield charms they had practised together were invaluable and Harry would have fallen at the first hurdle without them.

"Fred, get down!" he yelled, a blast of light coming towards them as he wordlessly pushed Fred aside with magic and neatly deflected the blast back at their attackers. They were thrown backwards against the castle walls and Harry was sure he heard the snap of a spine.

He turned just in time to see three Death Eaters headed his way and he wasn't quick enough to throw a decent shield up before they started throwing hexes. He managed to deflect them but a couple of burning and slicing hexes caught him and threw him off balance. There was painful sting in his right shoulder that distracted him long enough for another curse to knock him to the ground.

His head swam but he righted himself in time to see his three attackers approaching. One of them raised his wand but Harry was quicker; he raised his hand and all three of his opponents' necks twisted at a sickening angle, their bodies crumpling to the floor seconds later. Harry looked at them, a mass of stillness on the ground in front of him, bile rising in his throat as he realised he had just taken the lives of three people.

"Harry! Are you alright?"

Ron was at his side in a second, helping him to his feet as Harry felt a tremor go through his whole body. "I killed them," he whispered, feeling cold for reasons that had nothing to do with the December chill.

"They would have killed you, Harry," Ron said firmly. "We're at war, there are going to be deaths."

Harry would have argued, would have tried to say something, but a huge explosion came from inside the castle ruins, shuddering the earth around them as rock crumbled from the eastern side of the old wall. He and Ron took off at a run, other members of the Order holding off the Death Eaters that were still warmed outside the ruins, keeping them away from their master for as long as they could.

"What was that?" Ron asked Hermione as they caught up with her just in front of the old portcullis.

"Your brothers," she answered with a grin. "They're causing chaos."

"That's what they do best," Ron replied, mirroring her smile.

"How many are in there?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Hermione said, looking exhausted, "but I know we're outnumbered."

"Ok, on three then," Ron said, and they all readied themselves.

On Ron's count they entered through what was left of the drawbridge gates, going slowly and carefully. It was, as Hermione had said, chaos inside, and Fred and George weren't the sole reason. Fights were taking place in every part of what had once been the grand entrance all and all the way towards the back Harry could see Voldemort sitting on a raised dais, watching the proceedings with an expression of manic glee.

"Harry, you need to get to that bastard as fast as possible. Go down the left side, there are fewer Death Eaters there. Hermione, we'll take the right and centre."

Hermione nodded, but before she could follow Ron's instructions, a flash of red came from some unknown source and she was knocked into the wall. She screamed in agony and Harry and Ron were with her in a second, her cries of pain so intense that Harry felt sick. Ron peeled her back from the wall and Harry's heart jumped into his mouth when he saw blood streaming from her eyes.

"Oh fuck," Ron breathed. "Harry, you need to get to Voldemort, I'll get Hermione out of here."

"Is she going to be ok?"

Ron didn't say anything, his eyes going to the ground as he wrapped an arm around Hermione and said, "I'll be back as soon as I can," before he apparated away.

"What happened?" came Severus' voice, and Harry was so relieved to see him, wondering how they'd managed to get separated.

"Hermione's wounded. It looked pretty bad," Harry said, ducking as a stream of light hit the wall above his head.

"She'll be alright," Severus said, his breathing shallow, a cut bleeding badly above his right eye. "We need to get to Voldemort."

"I know," Harry said, scanning the room again and finding there was still no clear path to the bastard.

"We'll go down the left," Severus said, repeating Ron's instruction from earlier. "It's the easiest route to him. Are you alright?"

"No," Harry answered honestly. "But it doesn't matter. We have to end this."

Severus nodded and together they moved away from the entrance and further into the hall. They ducked hexes and curses that came their way, their shield charms so strong that barely anything managed to penetrate them.

"Well well, look who's here," came a voice behind them as they came within cursing distance of the dais. "Coming back to your old friends, Severus?"

Lucius appeared from the fray, his robes torn and dirty, his nose bleeding and yet he still managed to look like a superior prick.

"My standards have improved since leaving you," Severus replied, standing ever so slightly in front of Harry, shielding him from Lucius' wicked gaze.

"I wouldn't say that," Lucius replied with a smirk in Harry's direction. He cast a look over his shoulder towards his lord and master and said, "This is as close as you'll get to him."

"We'll see about that," Severus said, and Harry had to admire the sheer amount of scorn in Severus' voice.

Both men drew their wands and a volley of light appeared before Harry could blink. He couldn't identify any of the curses and his brain didn't properly kick into action until a stream of grey light hit Severus squarely in the chest and he was knocked backward, crumpling to the ground.

"No!" Harry cried, kneeling beside him, the man's face deathly white, his eyes closed. "Severus! Severus wake up! Please!"

"Poor Potter. Has your knight in shining armour fallen from his steed?" Lucius sneered.

"What have you done to him?"

"Nothing compared to what I'm going to do to him. But first, we must deal with the lead character in this little drama. It's time we put you out of commission for good, the final thorn in the Dark Lord's side."

"Get away from him," came a voice, and Harry looked to see Draco limping towards them, looking as though he could barely stand.

"Well if it isn't the prodigal son. You survived then."

"No thanks to you," Draco said, holding himself stiffly. "Get away from Harry," he repeated.

"What are you going to do about it? You look ready to drop."

"I have enough fight left in me to stop you," Draco assured the man.

"I doubt that very much."

Harry saw the flick of Lucius's wrist and Draco's head snapped back as a long laceration appeared down the side of his face. Lucius laughed and raised his wand but Draco was quicker and Harry watched as a jet of pure green emanated from Draco's wand and hit Lucius, knocking him to the ground, his eyes open, looking forward with a dead stare. It was a moment before Harry realised the man was actually dead and he scrambled to his feet in time to catch Draco as he almost fell forward.

"Oh my God," the man whispered, sounding like he was going to be sick. "I really did it. I killed him."

"Draco – "

"Go, Harry. There's no time. We'll do the heartfelt conversations when this is all over."

"Severus – "

"I'll make sure he's ok," Draco said, straightening himself up in Harry's hold, looking paler than Harry had ever seen him. "I know all my father's repertoire of curses, I'm sure I can figure out the counter-curse."

"I – "

"There isn't time to argue, Harry. Go."

Harry cast a last look down at Severus' body lying prone on the floor, trying to convince himself that whatever he'd been hit with had been innocuous and that he'd be fine after a trip to a healer. He looked back up at Draco and nodded, gripping the man's arm tightly before he released him and headed closer to the dais.

Voldemort was standing now, waiting for him, flanked by a group of his followers. Harry drew in a deep breath, deflecting the curses that came at it from all angles, trying to ignore the screams of anguish and pain that rang out through the old ruins. He felt the odd hex hit him but at this point he was impervious through his own sheer will.

He came closer and looked at each of the Death Eaters that stood on the dais, wishing he didn't have to do what he knew he must. He took a deep breath and, without uttering the curse or moving in any way, he hit them all with the killing curse. He was gratified, only for a moment, at the look of surprise that crossed Voldemort's face, even as he was sickened by his own actions.

"Time we ended things, Tom," he said, feeling strangely detached from the horror surrounding him.

"I don't think so, Harry," Voldemort said with a horrible smile. "Things are just beginning."

Harry saw the man raise his wand and cast the most powerful shield charm he could think of. The hex bounced off it and Harry took the opportunity that Voldemort's temporary frustration brought him. He strengthened the shield around him and blocked everything out to the point where he couldn't hear anything, couldn't sense anything, apart from the one thing he wanted to.

He could hear Voldemort's magic in the same way he had heard the dark magic in all the objects at Grimmauld and he focused all his attention on finding its source. It was, unsurprisingly, located in the centre of the man's chest and, while Voldemort continued to rain useless curses down upon Harry's shield, Harry honed in on the nasty little source.

He could see the tendrils that emanated out from it, could follow each thread, and he knew exactly how to unpick it. "Retexo," he whispered, focusing all his strength and power on the core of the magic, pulling apart each strand one at a time.

"What are you doing?" he heard Voldemort's strangled protestation, but he stayed focused on his task, knowing he had to finish what he'd started. "Stop it! Stop it now!"

The magic was unravelling quickly now and Harry could feel his body shaking with effort of untangling it coupled with maintaining the powerful shield that protected him. He felt sweat form on his brow and his chest felt tight and constricted but he knew he had to continue, he had to see it through until the end.

Voldemort was screaming now, pleading with Harry to stop, trying to bargain with him if only he would stop what he was doing. Harry ignored him and extracted every last tendril he could until the magic was entirely removed from the wretched creature's system and the man fell to the floor at Harry's feet. Harry looked down at him, feeling his own magic hanging on by a thread, feeling as though he had nothing left to give.

"Alright," Voldemort rasped. "You've won, I'm no threat to you now."

"As long as you're alive you'll be a threat," Harry said, his breathing laboured. "I'm sorry, Tom, but I can't let you live, I have to end this."

Voldemort looked up at him, his face ashen, his eyes pleading, begging, a dying thing clutching at one last straw of hope. Harry dopped his shield and, for one brief moment, felt a stab of sorrow for the pitiful creature. He knew what he had to do, though, and it would take nothing short of his own death to stop him.

He raised his hands and summoned all the power he had left before he intoned, "Avada Kedavra," and watched as Voldemort fell back, the life extinguished from him. Harry looked at the lifeless body for a few seconds before he felt exhaustion overtake him and the last thing he was truly aware of was the cold hardness of the floor as he tumbled down onto it.

He drifted in and out of consciousness for a time, unaware of anything or anyone, not even knowing if he was safe or even alive. His body felt broken and part of him dimly registered that he had strained his magic almost to breaking point. He didn't try and fight, he simply let sleep take him and hoped that when he eventually woke it would be to a safe and secure world.

He became more and more aware each time he surfaced to consciousness and little things began to creep into his mind. He realised that he was in a bed somewhere warm, somewhere quiet, and every now and then he heard people having hushed conversations somewhere over his head. He continued to sleep, realising that he was in no immediate danger, and eventually he felt strong enough to try and open his eyes.

It took a few attempts but finally he blinked himself properly awake. He took stock of the room, clinical and clearly a hospital room, empty save for himself and a snoozing figure in the armchair next to his bed. Draco was wrapped in a blanket, his head tilted to the side, a long, angry scar down the side of his face. Harry shuddered as he remembered how the man had acquired it…and the events that followed it.

"Draco," he croaked, his voice quiet and barely audible. He swallowed a couple of times and tried again, this time the man stirring.

"Harry," Draco said, shifting out of the blanket and leaning close to the bed. He took Harry's hand and said, "Are you ok? How are you feeling?"

"No idea," Harry said with a weak smile. "Haven't been awake long enough."

"The healers have been in several times. They say you'll be ok, you just strained your magic and drained yourself quite badly. You need rest but you should be just fine."

"We won?" Harry asked tentatively, unable to stop looking at the scar on Draco's face.

Draco nodded, his gentle smile making the scar stretch. "We won," he confirmed. "Voldemort's gone for good thanks to you."

"What I did to him – "

"We don't need to talk it about it now, Harry. Not if you don't want to."

Harry took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry…about your father."

"I'm not," Draco said softly, running his thumb along Harry's hand. "He would have killed me. I did what I had to."

Feeling sick and dizzy, but knowing he had to know, he took another deep breath, swallowed hard, and gripped Draco's hand tightly as he said, "Draco…Severus…the others…who didn't – "

"Severus is fine," Draco assured him with a kind smile. "He's down the hall from you and they've got him in a magical stasis. They're still leaching the curse Lucius used on him out of his system but he'll be right as rain in a day or two and you can have your big reunion."

Harry sighed in relief, feeling at least some of the tension leave his body, but he could tell from the look on Draco's face that there was more to come that he wouldn't want to hear.

Draco took a deep breath and said, "Hermione…Hermione was blinded by the curse that hit her. I'm told it's irreparable. Luna and Neville were badly wounded; Neville hasn't woken up yet and they're saying it's unlikely Luna will ever walk again. Remus…Remus died the night of the battle, his body just gave up in the end and…it looks like Tonks might not make it either, despite everything Ron did to save her."

Draco paused, looking down at their entwined hands. "Quite a few died in the field," he said quietly. "Many were people you didn't know but…McGonagall was killed…and Charlie Weasley."

"No," Harry said in a whisper, bile rising in his throat.

"It's hit the family…very hard…as you can imagine. I mean…Merlin's balls, we just had Christmas with him, he sat and spoke with me about dragons for ages. He was…kind…he told me he was happy for me and Ron."

"Is Ron alright? The rest of the family?" Harry asked, his head swimming, unable to take it all in properly.

"Ron's ok. Fred suffered pretty severe burns but he's being treated for them. Molly and Arthur…I think they're just…stunned with grief at the moment. Everyone's trying to rally around but…how do you deal with something like that?"

"I don't know," Harry said, wishing he'd never woken up. "Christ, Draco."

"It's ok," Draco soothed. He got up from his chair and sidled onto the bed beside Harry, wrapping his arm around him and letting Harry cuddle against his chest. "You've been through hell, Harry, and you've woken up to a world governed by trauma. Things are going to take a long time to feel ok again."

Draco stayed with him for the rest of the afternoon until a healer came in and told him Harry needed to eat and then sleep, which became Harry's routine for the next couple of days. Draco was never away from him for very long, which he appreciated more than he could say, especially as he knew Severus still wasn't awake and that Ron was with his family, trying to hold things together in the wake of Charlie's death.

Draco was there when he took his first steps out of bed, helping him walk around the room and slowly build his strength back up. It transpired that he'd been asleep for just under a week and, while he was assured he'd be fine, he needed to take his recovery slowly.

"Can we go and see Ron?" Harry asked as Draco helped him walk around the room.

"If you promise to let me take you there in a wheelchair."

Harry knew arguing was futile, especially with Draco, and so he consented to being wheeled to the room where Ron was staying with Fred while his brother received treatment to his burns. He felt sick as he crossed the threshold, not wanting to see Fred's torched flesh and feeling deeply apprehensive about having to face Ron and try to offer comfort in the face of Charlie's devastating death.

"Harry, mate," Ron said, as Draco helped Harry out of the wheelchair. "I'm such a tit for not coming to see you," he said as he wrapped Harry up in a hug that nearly squeezed the breath out of him.

"You have other things to worry about," Harry said as they pulled apart. "How is he?" he asked, looking over to the bed where Fred was, the man asleep, his body covered in bandages.

"Good," Ron said with a nod, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "We're taking turns to stay with him but…Mum and Dad are…they need time….and George is trying to be with Hermione as much as he can. It's all…a bit of a mess," he finished with a watery smile.

"I'm so sorry, Ron," Harry said, feeling tears prick his eyes. "I can't begin to imagine – "

"I know," Ron said, looking ashen. "It still doesn't feel real. I keep expecting him to walk through that door any moment and crack one of his awful jokes. The thought that I'll never see him again…"

Draco slid an arm around Ron's waist and pulled the man close while Harry sank back down into the wheelchair, feeling what little strength he had ebb away from him. "Where are your parents?" he asked as Draco and Ron sat on the bed opposite Fred's, Draco still tucked firmly into Ron's side.

"Home with Gin at the moment, but they're back and forth every five minutes. They don't really know what to do with themselves."

Harry had no idea what to say and he was doing his best not to look at Fred's prone body on the bed next to him. He could see the bandages that covered the man's arms and torso and somehow it just didn't look like Fred lying there but a hollow vessel instead. He didn't know how to offer comfort, how to tell Ron that he felt as if his own heart had been ripped out in the face of this devastation.

"How are you?" Ron asked, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly.

"Um…better, thanks," Harry said, not wanting to talk about himself either, feeling that it would be too selfish to discuss his own problems when so many had suffered so much more.

"I've been making sure he gets enough rest," Draco said with a smile. "I owe him for all the nursing he did for me."

Ron laughed and pressed a kiss to Draco's temple, saying, "I'm sure you're driving him mad."

Harry smiled, knowing it didn't look quite right, and said, "I'm putting up with him for the time being."

Harry stayed for the next half an hour, mostly listening to Ron and Draco's conversation and occasionally interjecting a sentence or two of his own. He was exhausted and he felt both shocked and numb at the same time. He wanted to be there for Ron, for Draco too, who, he was sure, regretted his father's death, no matter what he said, but he simply couldn't figure out how he was supposed to do that when his own mind felt in such a painful tumult.

He made his excuses as soon as he felt it was appropriate, turning down Draco's offer to escort him back to his room, feeling that Ron needed him more than he did. He wheeled himself through the corridors, knowing that his friends were dotted around the rooms and feeling sick with the knowledge. He wheeled as quickly as he could past Luna's room, not wishing to see her dreamy smile and hear her philosophical conjectures about how her new disability would impact her life.

Likewise, he went as quickly as he could past Neville's room, unable to bear the thought of seeing his friend lying in a coma that he might never come out of, the same kind of coma that eventually finished off Remus and Tonks and might still do the same for Seamus. He paused as he approached Hermione's room, queasiness rolling through him as he forced himself to peer through the open door, praying that he wouldn't be noticed.

He watched as George sat by Hermione's bed, one hand entwined with hers while his other hand held open a book that he was reading aloud from. Hermione lay with her head resting against the pillows, a bandage around her eyes, listening to George's soft voice as he read. It looked peaceful but the quiet tableau made Harry feel sick and he turned and wheeled away as fast as he could before George spotted him and he was forced to speak to his friend.

He made his way back to his room and slammed the door behind him, sitting in his wheelchair and breathing heavily while the world felt as though it was closing in on him. He felt the tears come and he couldn't hold them back; he broke down and sobbed, feeling as though he might suffocate, desperately wishing that he could go back to those weeks in the cottage where he felt safe and where so much promise had seemed to exist.

He crawled into bed and buried himself under the blankets, sobbing his heart out and trying to calm himself down. The passing of time escaped him and it was only when sunlight began to creep in through the curtains that he realised he had spent an entire night practically catatonic. He dragged himself into a shower, still feeling exhausted to his bones, then sat wrapped in his towel afterward, trying to summon the energy to dress himself.

The realisation that he needed to get away came to him like a flash of lightning. He needed to leave, not only the hospital, but the damn country as soon the doctors said he could. He needed to put as much distance as he possibly could between himself and everything that had happened, even if that meant leaving everyone he loved behind.

It would only be temporary, he reasoned. He just needed a couple of months to get his head straight. He couldn't cope with seeing Hermione blinded, seeing Fred's burns, Draco's scarred face. He couldn't cope with seeing Luna unable to walk or hearing the news that Neville hadn't woken up. He couldn't face all the funerals that he knew they would have to have, seeing rows of coffins while he and those who were left buried people they had once known.

He knew it made him a coward and he felt sick and disgusted with himself for wanting to desert everyone after all they had been through together. He couldn't stay, though, he knew it with more certainty than he'd felt in a long time. He needed time and space to get his head together and, when he'd finally been able to do that, he would come home again.

"Hey," Draco said, later that morning, popping his head around the door. " You ok? Sorry I didn't come back down last night, Ron was…in a bad way."

"That's ok," Harry said quietly. "I just…slept anyway. Is he ok now?"

"As ok as he can be I suppose. I just came to tell you that Severus is awake. He's asking for you."

"Oh," Harry said, his voice small. He'd been so desperate to see the man but the world felt as though it had changed since they were last alone together.

They had sat in Harry's bedroom at Grimmauld after enjoying a thoroughly pleasant Christmas and Harry had been working up the courage to try and tell Severus how he felt about him. Now…he didn't know what to say or how to say it.

"Harry?" Draco prompted gently.

"Sorry…yes…of course. I'll come and see him now."

Draco looked at him for a moment, his eyes narrowed in scrutiny, before he nodded and said, "Do you want me to take you?"

"No, no that's fine, thanks. I'll…manage."

"Ok," Draco said, looking unconvinced. "I'll…come and see you later. We can get some lunch."

Harry forced a smile and said, "Sounds good."

Draco frowned but said nothing, disappearing and closing the door behind him. Harry took a deep breath and steeled himself, not fully understanding why he felt so nervous and apprehensive. Everything felt wrong, somehow, and he had no idea how he was supposed to fix it all.

He tried to compose himself and eventually made his way out of his room and down the corridor, butterflies in his stomach the whole way. He was tired, desperately so, and his whole body was aching both with exhaustion and with the strange, erratic energy that seemed to be flowing through him. He paused outside Severus' door and took a few deep breaths, his hands shaking and feeling his heart thudding uncomfortably in his chest.

He knocked on the door then let himself him, smiling in spite of himself when he saw Severus sitting up in bed with a book open in his lap. "Hi," he said, feeling his pulse in his throat.

"Hello," Severus replied with a gentle smile, lowering the book and gesturing for Harry to come in.

Harry ventured over to the bed and slid into the chair next to it, a strange silence hanging in the air between them. "Are you ok?" he asked eventually. "I've been…so worried."

"I'm fine," Severus assured him. "The healers have assured me that the last of Lucius' curse has gone from my system. I simply need to rest."

"When you went down…I was so fucking scared," Harry said, looking at the man, hardly daring to believe that they had both come through the final battle alive and together. "I froze. If it weren't for Draco…" He swallowed then said, "Has he told you what happened?"

Severus nodded and said, "Yes, quite terrible really." He reached out and wrapped his long fingers around Harry's hand, his skin warm against Harry's. "How are you?" he asked.

"Fine," Harry said, holding onto Severus' hand. "Same boat as you – mostly got the green light from the healers but still have to rest."

"Good…but I meant how are you…on a wider scale?"

"Um…" Harry began but closed his mouth when he realised he had no idea how to answer the question. He looked at their hands, a frown settling between his brows as he tried to gather his thoughts together and explain to Severus exactly what he was feeling.

He ran his tongue over his dry lips and wished he had spent a little more time trying to organise exactly how he felt in order to try and make himself understood. He was so tired and everything in his mind was jumbled and fragmented, all he knew was that he needed some time and space away from everything that reminded him of the last painful few months.

He took a deep breath and, still looking down, said, "I um…I was thinking about going away."

"Going away?" Severus echoed, his voice quiet.

Harry nodded, feeling his face flush. "It's…too much…being here at the moment. I can't…cope with it all and I need to go away to get my head together. Everything that happened, everything that's gone on in the last few months…it's too much for me. I need to go away and work through it, figure out what I want now."

"I see," Severus said, and finally Harry forced himself to look up. He couldn't quite figure out what he was seeing in the man's face and he realised he hadn't really factored in what Severus' reaction might be to him up and leaving the country.

He wanted to ask the man to come with him, or perhaps for Severus to suggest it himself. They could go away together, do a little travelling, spend some time as an actual couple and figure out what the hell it was they meant to each other. He couldn't bring himself to ask, though. Their…arrangement had never been formalised and Severus himself had stated that he didn't really favour relationships; how could Harry ask him to commit to something when it had all been meant to be casual?

He wanted Severus to make a declaration, to say that he would be waiting for Harry when Harry came back or that…in time…he would join him, wherever he might be. He wanted Severus to take the plunge for them both as Harry was too scared and uncertain to do it, to ask that they try to forge a relationship out of something that had had so much promise to be so wonderful.

"When will you go?" Severus asked, his voice slicing through Harry's thoughts.

"Um…soon. When the healers let me, I guess," Harry replied, a strange and uncomfortable feeling of dread seeping into him. Severus wasn't going to ask to go with him, he wasn't going to ask that they continue their relationship, and the realisation made Harry feel sick to his stomach. "It won't be forever," he added, trying to make Severus understand that he wasn't leaving him.

Severus nodded and slowly removed his hand from Harry's, saying, "You must do what you need to. After all you've been through…it's important you find a way to process it all."

"Yeah…" Harry said softly, suddenly feeling that his sleep-deprived epiphany had, in fact, been a huge mistake.

His mind was a mess and he had never felt more confused in his life. He wanted Severus to hold him, to wrap him in his arms and tell him that everything was going to be alright, that they would work through it together. He had never felt so lost and adrift as he did in that moment and he couldn't believe that this was the victory he had worked so hard for.

"I should…leave you to get some sleep," he said eventually, wondering what had happened to the reunion he'd pictured in his mind. Weren't they supposed to fall into each other's arms, happy in secure in the knowledge that they had won and life could go on?

"Yes, thank you," Severus said with a strange kind of formality.

Harry stood and headed for the door, looking over his shoulder and forcing a smile that he knew was thoroughly unconvincing. He left the room and felt as though his entire world had changed without him wishing it to. He walked back to his room on shaky legs and sank down onto his bed, his mind a blank and a fist around his heart.

AN: I took great pains with this chapter, I really hope you felt it was worth it. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts.