Morning came quicker than Harry would have liked, especially since the dream he had the night before. Wiping the sleep out of his eyes, Harry recalled the way Hermione, Percy and his parents stood in a giant doorway and told him that everything would be alright. They were making motions with their hands, as if to say, "Come with us," but Harry couldn't be sure. To his left was Hagrid, Professor McGonagall and a few other figures that Harry had never seen before and to his right was Professor Dumbledore, smiling gently at him. "It's okay," he encouraged and Harry had woken up with a start. As painful as it was to him, he knew that he had to choose soon.

The boys were quiet for most of the day, having run out of things to talk about. Harry decided it would be best if he not say anything to Ron about his outing the previous night. Ron would be angry and upset that Harry would do something like that, especially without him, and Harry felt he didn't need to test anyone else's tempers. Seamus was still being short with him and even Dean and Neville had taken to turning their backs whenever Harry even so much as glanced their way. He knew they blamed him as well and he couldn't blame them for doing so.

"I want out," Neville stated towards mid-afternoon. He was sitting on the windowsill with his arms wrapped around his legs, his knees drawn up to his chin. He had been rocking back and forth for quite some time, but finally stopped to reveal his statement. "I need out. Now."

"I know, Neville." Harry sighed. "We all do."

"You don't understand, Harry," Neville said simply, turning to him. "I need out. It's not so much a want anymore, not a desire, but a need. And you can't refuse that of me." He stood up but once he reached the door, his tough exterior faltered and he retreated back to his windowsill, leaving Harry with his thoughts once again.

He knew that Voldemort wouldn't have the door guarded during the day if it wasn't guarded at night. Why that was, Harry couldn't be sure. If Voldemort knew him as well as Harry knew Voldemort, then he should know that Harry would be curious enough to sneak out at some point and check up on the others. And he had done so successfully, quite content with the fact that they seemed okay, despite being locked up in their common rooms all the time. The image of his floating teachers haunted Harry all day until night fell again. He came close to blurting it out to Ron a few times during one of their seldom conversations, but stopped himself just in time. There was no point in going there.

When darkness fell, it seemed to be a cue for the boys to fall asleep. Harry didn't care about time anymore; time had no effect. Whether it be four in the morning or two in the afternoon, time had lost all meaning for him. All he knew was that come darkness, he was going back to that office to check up on the others and make sure they were alright. He had been conjuring up food and water all day long for his roommates; if he needed, he could conjure up sustenance for the rest as well.

When Neville finally fell asleep, Harry escaped from the dreary room, amazed at how dull at lifeless their lives had become. If he had to continue living like that much longer, it wouldn't be worth it. What kind of life was it when the best part of your day was laying down to go to sleep so you could escape the horror of being awake and living for 12 more hours? It simply wasn't worth it and Harry was determined to find a way out for him and his friends soon.

Back to the office he travelled, careful not to make any sounds and not to run into any Death Eaters on the way. He arrived with no qualms and was searching for the mirror when he heard a sound at the doorway. He looked up quickly to see Ron staring, open-mouthed, at the suspended teachers.

"Ron!" Harry's voice was sharp and Ron jumped a foot off the ground. "What are you doing here?"

"I can't see you, Harry!"

Harry lifted the corner of the cloak. "Get under here, quick! Before someone sees you!" Ron ducked under the material and stared in wonder at his friend. "Ron, what are you doing here?"

Ron looked somewhat sheepish. "I was stirring when I saw you leave the room and I decided to follow you and see where you were going. I was worried," he confessed. Harry felt his anger melting away.

"That's nice, Ron, but you shouldn't be here," he told his friend sternly. "Are you certain no one saw you coming here?"

Ron nodded, his eyes wide. "Positive. I just wanted to know what you were up to. Besides, I was getting so incredibly sick of that room." He made a face like he had just taken a bite out of a lemon.

"Right," Harry said, distracted with looking for the mirror. "Just as long as no one saw you."

"Mr. Harry Potter, I knew you'd return."

Harry froze at the voice and looked at Ron. Ron looked absolutely petrified and was staring in the direction of the door where Voldemort stood, just as fearful as ever. Feeling exceedingly vulnerable, Harry's frantic mind tried to form a way to get back to the room where Voldemort couldn't touch him. You couldn't Apparate or Disapparate inside the grounds at Hogwarts (Hermione's banter was useful sometimes) and there was no other way to magically get upstairs in a short amount of time. Maybe, just maybe, if they were quick and conniving, they could dart past Voldemort in the doorway and make it to the dorm room in time.

Voldemort advanced towards the desk and Harry tore the invisibility cloak off of them. It was of no use now. Voldemort shook his head and clicked his tongue. "How clever," he sneered, "using an invisibility cloak. Didn't you realize that I am entirely too powerful to be fooled by such a blatant use of material?"

"How did you know I was here?" Harry asked, feeling unafraid. He could feel Ron shaking beside him and had the sudden urge to push Ron towards the door as soon as Voldemort was completely out of the way. "How did you know I'd be back?"

"Silly boy." Voldemort smiled. "I know everything that goes on in this castle. I saw that you came here last night and I knew that you'd return tonight. That's one of the advantages of this nightmare that bonds us together." He was almost out of the way. As soon as he took two or three more steps into the room, Harry would shove Ron.

"Well, congratulations," Harry said sarcastically, mentally urging Voldemort to move faster. "You've foiled me. Now what? You going to kill me?"

There was that ugly smile again. Voldemort snapped his spindly fingers and waited a mere moment before five Death Eaters appeared at the doorway. "Kill the spare," Voldemort instructed and Harry heard himself scream. He wouldn't lose Ron the way he lost Cedric Diggory three years ago. It just wouldn't happen.

"Run, Ron!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "Run as fast as you can, up to the room and don't stop until you get there. Damn it, Ron, run!"

But Ron seemed rooted to the spot. Just as one of the masked Death Eaters raised his wand, Voldemort stopped him. "The boy's right," he said thoughtfully. "Don't kill the spare. He could be useful."

Harry stopped struggling against himself. "What?"

Voldemort was smiling cruelly and viciously now. "Yes, he will be of some use to me. You see," he turned to face his Death Eaters, "as we learned three long years ago, the wands that Harry Potter and I own share a core: a single feather from a phoenix, the very same phoenix that was owned by our very own late and great Albus Dumbledore." Voldemort lowered his head in a mock prayer and Harry felt a rush of blood heat his anger. "As we all know, brother wands will refuse to work against each other properly. Mr. Potter and I could never duel properly due to this fact." He turned on Ron and lowered his face to inches above Ron's. "Do you have your wand, boy?"

Ron whimpered and Harry laughed aloud. "Are you daft?" he asked. "Using Ron's wand won't help you! It only works for him."

"That's exactly my plan," Voldemort said, turning back to his followers. "See, I will inhabit the body of Potter's young friend here and take control of his mind, a wonderful way of getting what I want. Then, lo and behold, I will use Potter's friend and his wand to rid myself of Potter once and for all."

Harry felt frozen, much like Ron looked. Could that be done? He had to get them out of there and quick, but the five Death Eaters in the doorway were a poor match compared to Voldemort. He had to take on one of the two choices; but which one? Frantically, his mind raced with thoughts; distract them. But how? There was nothing else to say: he was going to die that night and he shouldn't prolong it. But he didn't want to admit to it, either. His poor confused brain was shutting down slowly, with the grief of losing so many at once and of his past and of his bleak future that could end at any time. He watched, unconcerned, as Voldemort seemed to sink into Ron's body. Ron's eyes changed to a scarlet colour and his voice became high and demanding.

"No matter what," he ordered the Death Eaters, "do not interfere. I want to take care of Potter all on my own. This is to be my victory, sweet to the very last drop."

He raised his wand and Harry shut his eyes, preparing for the worst. Then, reality sunk in. Voldemort had told the Death Eaters not to interfere, NO MATTER WHAT. How interesting. Just before Voldemort struck, Harry dropped to the floor and rolled out of the way. Grabbing his own wand out of his pocket, he jumped up and took aim. Choking out the curse words, he watched as Ron's body flew back against the wall in a jet of blue light. Running towards the door, Harry shot curses at the Death Eaters, knocking them out of the way as he went. Unable to turn back, he continued to run towards the common room, hopeful that Ron hadn't knocked out the sliver of wood Harry had so carefully placed there upon leaving.

Thankfully it was still there, but Harry paused at the entryway. Voldemort would expect him to go here. And so what if Harry survived another night? Voldemort would surely kill Ron for failing to kill Harry while in his possession and then what? Harry would be without his two best friends in the world and would continued to live out his days trapped in a room with three other boys who were beginning to hate him. No, it just wasn't worth it. The words, "Neither may live while the other survives," rang in his head. Who says that it had to be Voldemort that killed Harry? Why couldn't he kill Voldemort? There was no prophecy that said great Harry Potter would be the one to die; it was all up in the air. But tonight it came down to the facts: Harry had to kill Voldemort tonight if it was the last thing he ever did.

Spinning on his heels, he marched back out into the hallway. "Come out and fight like a man!" he screamed into the darkness. "Damn it, you've waited seventeen years to get me, now come kill me!"

There was a rustling to his left. Instinctively, he jumped to his right, knowing the patterns of Lord Voldemort. Right on cue, Ron's body jumped out from the shadows. "Harry, it's me," he said softly and Harry squinted into the darkness.

"Right," he said. "Five minutes ago you were being possessed by Voldemort and now he's left you."

Ron nodded. "He knew you were going to run here so he left possession of my body."

"Without killing you?"

Ron's eyes flickered and Harry raised his wand. Suddenly, Ron tossed his head back and emitted the most awful howling laugh Harry had ever heard. The voice was high pitched and agitating again. "I should have known that Harry Potter was too good, too great to fall for a trick like that." Voldemort's eyes glowed red in Ron's body. "Did you say you wanted to play, Potter? Well, I got news for you." His voice grew darker and his eyes, deadly serious. "Playtime is over. You're going to die."

Harry dodged three curses in a row, for after each one, Voldemort swore loudly. Feeling hatred and anger boil his blood as he dodged behind suits of armour, which were tossed off course as the misdirected targets of the hateful curses being thrown about the castle, Harry continued to run, shooting odd curses over his shoulder whenever he thought of it. He had a plan; get Voldemort to the room at the top of Gryffindor tower and he could kill him from in there. Voldemort couldn't touch Harry while he was in that room.

Harry heard Seamus scream as he flung open the door and burst inside. Ron's body made a move to follow Harry but it was as if an invisible force shielded him from the room, tossing him back several feet on to his back.

"What happened to Ron?" Neville questioned, watching as Ron stood up and began inspecting his body. "Why can't he come into the room? Where's You-Know-Who?"

"That is You-Know-Who!" Harry hollered back. "Now Neville, get out of the way!" He aimed his wand at the mystified Voldemort, who was still inspecting Ron's body.

"Why can't I get through?" Harry heard Voldemort's voice ring in his head from the hallway. "I'm not in my body. Surely the force cannot detect emotional traits?"

"Guess again," Harry thought to himself, closing one eye to get a better aim. He only had one good shot at this curse so he had better make it count. But before he could shoot, Ron's body wavered like a wave and he crumpled to the floor. Voldemort unfolded into his long, lean frame, causing much panic and commotion in the dorm room.

"He can't hurt you, as long as you stay here!" Harry yelled over the noise. Seamus was running in circles, obviously panicking and Dean was lying on his bed with his hands over his eyes. Neville was whimpering in the corner of the room, rocking violently. "Just don't leave the room!" Harry continued to bellow.

Outside the door, Voldemort approached Ron's slow-moving body as he tried to heave himself up from the floor. "Well, well, we do have a weakened little boy, don't we?" Voldemort sneered, picking Ron up by his elbow. "Potter, what do you say we do about this?"

Harry ran to the doorframe, reluctant to leave his sanctuary. "Leave him be," he ordered and Voldemort laughed his high-pitched cruel laugh. "I mean it."

"Leave him alone," Voldemort mocked, shaking Ron's limp body fiercely. "Don't touch him. Leave him alone. What makes you think I'll listen, Potter? I haven't listened for seven years, why would I start now?"

"Because if you leave him alone and let him come in the room, I'll willingly give myself up," Harry said, searching desperately in his sorrowful mind for a way out of this. Part of him just wanted to give up. He had run a long enough race; there was no reason to drag out the inevitable. Yet another part of him was arguing ferociously, telling him he was still in the game, fair and square and not to give up or lose hope.

Anticipation flickered in Voldemort's eyes. Harry could practically read his thoughts: Is he telling the truth? Will he give himself up? Voldemort smiled a wicked, vicious smile and stepped back from the door, taking Ron with him. "Okay," he said softly. "You step out first."

"Harry, no!" Seamus' frantic voice filled the room behind Harry. "I didn't mean what I said before! Don't give up! Don't let him win! He's sneaky, he's conniving and he won't let Ron go when you leave the room. Harry, please, don't do it!"

"I have to," Harry stated simply, with an apologetic glance back at his friends. "I'm sorry." He put one foot out into the hallway, feeling the warmth of the room leave him like he was stepping out of a steamy bath. However, he seemed somewhat reluctant to move his other foot.

"Come on, Potter, I haven't got all day." Voldemort was glaring at him hungrily and greedily, waiting to pounce. He still held Ron by the scruff of his neck and Ron's head was lolling from side to side, much like the professors Harry had seen. If it wasn't for the soft breathing Harry could see of Ron's chest, he wouldn't believe that his best friend was still alive.

Finally, fearing the consequences no more, Harry put both feet outside the room and instinctively raised his wand. Much to his anticipation, Voldemort released Ron only to float into vapour and sink into Ron's body, causing Ron to stand upright, looking around wildly. When his eyes landed on Harry, he grinned madly. "Yes," he said slowly, "finally. You promised, Potter, and you've made the last one for a long time." He raised his wand at the same time Harry did.

"Avada Kedavra!" Their two voices echoed throughout the hallways, followed by two short screams. Both crumpled to the floor, a greenish mist floating above Ron's body before it disintegrated into nothing. It was over. Finally, after seventeen long years, it was over.