Author's Note: Whoohoo! Get ready for one looooong flashback. :-) What can I say? I missed Hogwarts. And Crys forced me to post without proofreading (though I must admit that I was easily persuaded, as I hate proofreading with a passion), so blame all my errors on her. :-)

Chapter Eight: Remembering The End

Fate.

The word hung lazily in the air; the hand in which it was written was slightly familiar. Faintly, he remembered.

"...This diary holds memories of terrible things...the Chamber was opened...the girl had died...it could happen again...the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned."

The diary.

The Chamber of Secrets.

Tom Riddle.

"TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE...I AM LORD VOLDEMORT."

The Dark Mark.

Ginny.

She was crying silently; he could see her shoulders shaking. Timidly, he approached her. Still the word lingered in the air, though he desperately wished it away.

"Ginny," Harry said softly, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Ginny, what happened? Are you all right?"

She turned. Her cheeks were frighteningly pale; tiny tear rivers danced down them, and her chocolate brown eyes shone with a desperate fear.

"Harry," she said softly.

He nodded, worried. "Yes, I'm here. It's all right."

"I heard his voice, Harry," she continued, shaking. "Tom's. It was in my head, and I hadn't heard it in so long, not since..."

And suddenly she froze. Her eyes grew larger, and she suddenly seemed paralyzed by fright.

"Harry, Harry, run!" she ordered in a shriek. "Harry, the basilisk, it's going to kill you - Tom is going to kill you! It was me, Harry, I've been petrifying everyone...but I didn't mean to, Harry! I didn't mean to! Tom made me! He was controlling me-"

"Ginny," Harry said, alarmed. "Ginny, calm down. That happened a long time ago, Tom was defeated, he's gone-"

"Hermione," Ginny continued; she was practically sobbing now. "I didn't want to hurt her, Harry! I know that you love her, Tom told me, and I didn't want to hurt her, but he made me, Harry!"

"Shhh," Harry said, wrapping one arm gently around her shoulders and attempting to lead her out of the kitchen. He tore his eyes from the word and the mark. "Shh, Ginny, I don't love Hermione. Ron loves Hermione, remember? And she's okay now, they've made the Mandrake Draught."

Ginny brushed away tears with her sleeve. "Really?"

"Really," Harry promised as he led her into the living room, panic surging through him. She hadn't gone mad, had she? She would be all right, wouldn't she? What had happened? Voldemort couldn't be back, Tom couldn't be back...Harry had defeated him, and with a defeat like that, it was pretty much ensured that the Dark Lord would be gone forever.

"But Tom, Harry, you have to go! He wants you dead, Harry. Just go. I don't matter as much as you do. Harry, go!"

She attempted to push his arm off of her, but seemed so weakened by the occurrence that she couldn't. He stared at her in horror - she couldn't be insane. She wasn't. (Though right now she did seem quite the likely candidate for St. Mungo's.)

Perhaps this was all just some sort of bizarre dream...

And then-

"Harry?" Ginny asked, very weakly. She sat down on the sofa.

"Yes?" he asked anxiously, sitting next to her.

"What just happened?"

Harry sighed in relief. "You...you're all right then?"

"I suppose so," she said, though she didn't look all right.

"What happened?"

"I...I was just washing the dishes," Ginny said, visibly shaken. "And then I heard his voice...Tom's, I mean. And then....it was like my second year was happening all over again - it was terrible. And then...I opened my eyes, and I saw the Dark Mark. And the word... 'Fate'..." She shivered. "That's his handwriting."

"But how?" Harry asked. "How could he be conjuring the Dark Mark? He's gone, Ginny. We both saw it."

Ginny nodded, a far-off look in her eyes. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then apparently thought the better of it and shut it again.

"Maybe..."

Her voice trailed off.

"What?" Harry urged.

"Maybe..." She paused, then said quietly, "I heard his voice." Another pause. "He says that he's inside of me. He's part of me."

Harry studied her curiously.

"I just...maybe it was...never mind."

He wanted to question her further, but something in her tired expression told him that it would be wrong to. Instead he helped her up, a bit awkwardly, from the sofa, and, with one arm wrapped around her shoulders, led her to her bedroom. She didn't resist, and let out a little grateful sigh as she sunk onto her bed. Her eyes were already fluttering open and closed, and within seconds her breathing became soft and even.

Harry crept soundlessly toward the door, eyes fixed on her all the while.

Had he been an idiot to think that all of this was over? It seemed that it was a sick twist of fate that Voldemort would haunt him and the people he cared about until he died. Even after Harry had defeated Voldemort, he still didn't leave him.

Cryssa. It had to be Cryssa. His scar had burned at her touch; that hadn't happened in ages. And Ginny knew more about Cryssa - Malfoy had told her, no doubt. Ginny had tried to tell him something earlier before Sirius and Hadia had arrived, something about Cryssa.

But there was nothing that he could do about it that night. Ginny was asleep, and he might as well get some sleep as well.

There was always the morning to dwell on it.

* * *

"Fizzing Whizbees."

The great stone gargoyle hopped aside obediently, and Harry began to climb the winding staircase to Professor Dumbledore's office. He nervously ran a hand through his hair and tried to shake the feeling of nervousness that had been building over the past few days. All in the wizarding world had been disastrous for the past month, and Harry didn't like it. Something was going to happen, he was sure of it...Something terrible.

Biting his lip, he rapped his knuckles against the door.

"Come in," Dumbledore's voice called from the other side.

Harry swung open the door and stepped inside to see Dumbledore standing beside Fawkes' perch, absently stroking the Phoenix's scarlet feathers.

"Hello, Harry," the headmaster said without looking up.

"Hello, Professor," Harry replied, attempting to sound calm. "Any news? Have you heard from Professor Snape?"

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. "No. Not in quite sometime, Harry."

"Well, this isn't normal, is it?" Harry asked anxiously. "I mean, up until now he was informing us weekly. What's happened?"

Professor Snape's sudden absence might have been what was plaguing Harry the most. The Potions master had gone back to Voldemort's side to gather information for Dumbledore, and up until now had been keeping them posted regularly on the Dark Lord's plans. But now...

There had been nothing.

"Do you think he's...?" Harry's voice trailed off, and he gulped. Much as he disliked the Potions master's less-than-friendly attitude, he'd finally accepted that Severus Snape was an important part of the Order of the Phoenix, and many would have lost their lives were it not for him.

"No, Harry," Dumbledore replied, pulling a bag of lemon drops from his desk and offering them to Harry, who shook his head. The headmaster paused to pop a candy into his mouth, chewed and swallowed it, and then continued to speak. "I am almost positive that Severus is still very much alive."

"How?"

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled in a way that Harry didn't quite like. In a very far-off voice, he said simply, "I know how Voldemort's mind works, Harry. Not thoroughly, of course - I doubt even Voldemort truly knows that - but I get the gist of it, and he would not destroy a...pawn as valuable as Professor Snape."

"Well, then, where is he?" Harry asked impatiently. "Something bad is going to happen, Professor. I just know it."

"I cannot disagree with you there, Harry," Dumbledore said gravely. "I too can sense something coming, but I feel quite certain that that something will be the end to all of this, one way or another."

Harry gulped. "One way or another? Well, that's not good, is it?"

Dumbledore smiled gently. "I firmly believe that good will triumph over evil. It is merely one of the more simple workings of our fascinating universe. Maybe not now, maybe not this battle, but someday."

"Someday?" Harry repeated, a bit panicked. "But Professor, our lives could be destroyed! Someday! I-"

"Harry," Professor Dumbledore cut in. "You must learn to accept the ways of the world. If this brings horrible things, which it very well could, we must learn to accept them. We must overcome them."

"But Professor," Harry said desperately, "What about the Muggle-borns? Colin Creevey was already killed. What about Hermione?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "I often forget what it is like to be young, Harry, and can't remember the time when I feared death. But at one time, I know that I did, and I doubt even now you can understand that it is only the beginning. So in all honesty, I don't know how to answer that." He took another lemon drop and held out the bag to Harry, asking, quite placidly, "Are you sure that you don't want one?"

"Yes," Harry said, a bit frustrated.

Dumbledore shrugged in a 'your-loss' sort of manner and put the candies back into his desk.

"Any other questions?"

Harry shook his head, still feeling a bit dazed.

"Well, then, Harry, I hope you won't think it too rude if I ask you to depart. I have an urgent letter to write to the Ministry of Magic that must be delivered by tomorrow morning."

"Okay," Harry said, a bit weakly, and turned toward the door. "Goodbye, Professor."

"Good day, Harry."

Sighing inwardly, Harry exited and closed the door behind him, then made his way dejectedly down the staircase. The gargoyle leapt back into place as he walked out into the rather empty corridor. Nearly everyone was in class, but the seventh years were allowed a free class period due to the fact that Divination, Muggle Studies, and Arithmancy were only required for three years. Hermione, of course, had been rather reluctant to drop Arithmancy, but had simply learned all there was to learn about the subject.

Running his hand through his hair again, Harry listened to his own footsteps echoing through the corridor before freezing at the sight of a familiar figure in billowing black.

"Professor Snape," he said eagerly, making his way toward the expressionless Potions master.

"Potter," Snape replied curtly.

"We were all getting worried," Harry said. "D'you have any news? What's going to happen?"

It was odd, how absolutely devoid of expression Snape's face was. He normally wasn't grinning broadly or anything of the like, but his usually intense black eyes now seemed almost empty...like the eyes of a corpse.

Harry shuddered involuntarily, and suddenly Snape's voice filled the air, very coldly.

"Crucio."

At once, a searing pain shot through Harry. He felt his legs give out under him - his muscles were being torn, his bones shattered; hot tears felt like acid as they stung in his eyes. He could feel his limbs twitching helplessly; his skin stung as though being punctured by a thousand fine needles.

And then, very faintly, he heard a voice.

"Harry!" one of them shrieked, terrified.

Hermione.

"What the bloody hell are you playing at?" he heard Ron roar; their voices sounded very far off, as though he were under water and they were above it.

"Stupefy!" he heard them yell together, but it apparently had no effect, as the pain persevered.

His eyes were being gouged from their sockets...he was slowly being torn apart limb from limb...his fingers were being bent back against the face of his hands...his raw skin seemed to be burning...

He heard Hermione's voice, very distantly, echoing through his head.

"Harry, it doesn't hurt. Harry, Harry, it's just a feeling...just a sensation. It's not painful. Pain is just a sensation. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt."

He concentrated on her words fervently, and slowly the pain seemed to drain from him...

Just a feeling...oh, but his fingernails were being pulled from his fingers...just a feeling...a knife was twisting painfully in his side...just a sensation...he was being burned alive...it didn't hurt...it didn't hurt...

And suddenly, it stopped.

Everything seemed to come into focus again, and he sat up slowly.

"What...?" he asked softly. "Hermione...Ron..."

Both had dead serious expressions on their faces as they studied him.

"How...?" Harry asked weakly. "There's no stopping the Cruciatus Curse. Only the person who cast it can stop it, Moody taught us that."

"The Cruciatus Curse isn't real pain," Hermione responded, her voice a bit shaky. "Only physical contact can cause real pain. The Cruciatus Curse is all just a state of mind...you can defeat it if you don't believe it."

Ron studied her in disbelief. "How did you know that?"

"Bit of light reading," she replied, still looking very scared.

"Snape," Harry said at once. "Where's Snape? What direction did he go?"

Ron pointed down the corridor. His hand was shaking slightly. "It was strange; he didn't even look twice at us. Just raced down there."

"He must be under the Imperius Curse," Harry said. "He wouldn't do this otherwise."

"I don't think so," Hermione said, a bit miserably.

"What??" Ron bellowed. "Hermione, think of all the slimy git's done for us! He's not going to just go get us killed now!"

"But Snape can fight the Imperius Curse!" Hermione cried. "We've seen him do it! More than once!"

"You mean that overgrown bastard of a bat was on the other side the entire time?!" Ron said angrily. "Oh, I'll beat him into a bloody pulp-"

"Ron, don't," Hermione said at once, sounding incredibly tense as she put a hand on Ron's arm. "Don't you dare. He's very powerful, Snape. He could kill you in less than a second. Don't be stupid."

Ron nodded, but still glared violently down the hall.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Harry asked, feeling very tired as he stood up. "We have to go! Now! He could be killing people!"

He ignored his dangerously weak knees and rushed down the corridor, Ron and Hermione behind him. Fury pulsated through his veins - how dare Snape? He'd saved Harry's life more than once; he'd done a bloody good job of pretending to be on their side, and now after he'd safely gained their trust, he was going to destroy the castle!

And suddenly, there he was. Harry could see him standing, motionless, in the middle of the next corridor.

Harry would kill him. He would kill him. The bastard deserved death. He was just another Pettigrew, someone else who had betrayed his friends, who had betrayed Hogwarts. He deserved the painful death that Pettigrew hadn't gotten.

The Killing Curse was on his lips when suddenly voices filled the air. Students' voices.

Panic immediately rushed through him.

All right. He had to do it now, before Snape could hurt anyone.

With trembling hands, he reached into his robes and pulled out his wand, then pointed it shakily at Snape.

"A...avad..."

The words wouldn't come.

And then it was too late - a group of first year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had appeared, led by Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. Sinistra froze the second that her eyes landed upon Snape.

"Go," he heard her say softly. "Go. Run."

The students, however, didn't move. They simply stared at Professor Snape, looking utterly bewildered as he rose his wand and pointed it directly at Sinistra. Certainly this was some kind of joke...

"Avada-"

"Severus."

And suddenly, Snape froze. Professor Sinistra's expression was one that Harry couldn't even begin to read - she stared evenly at Snape. No fear was betrayed in her eyes, her gaze didn't waver.

And then, the sound of glass shattering cut through the silence, and Harry spun to see what had happened. Tiny shards of glass and fine golden sand littered the floor in front of Hermione. He turned back to see how Snape and Sinistra had reacted, only to see that they had frozen in place.

"What..."

"Don't waste time," Hermione said at once, taking control of the situation. "That was a Timeturner."

"...You smashed it," Ron observed.

"Brilliant, Ron," she said, rolling her eyes. "I got it from Professor McGonagall this morning - I had a feeling that it would be needed. You see, when a Timeturner is broken, time stops around a few select people."

"How long do we have?" Harry asked nervously.

"Anywhere from one minute to fifteen," Hermione replied. "So I'll have to talk fast. I know what's wrong with Snape."

"He's a bloody evil bastard, that's what's wrong with Snape," Ron replied menacingly. "Can I just go snap his neck, Hermione?"

"No!" Hermione said harshly. "Just let me explain. Who knows how long we have. Now, if I'm correct-"

"And you always are," Ron threw in.

Hermione gave him a Look.

"Anyway," she continued, "Snape has been put under the Commodus Dominatio."

"And that is...?"

"Oh," Hermione wrung her hands worriedly. "It's a legend, a horrible legend. I wasn't even sure that it had existed until now. You see, the Commodus Dominatio can only be cast when two equally powerful wizards whose powers are completely opposite exist at the same time."

"Dumbledore and Voldemort," said Harry.
Hermione nodded. "Exactly. Oh, I've feared this for so long. It's very rare, you see, but this curse can only be cast by someone who's purely evil, and broken by someone who's purely good, or vice versa. And it's like the Imperius Curse, times about a thousand. It can't be fought. You completely lose yourself in the curse. Basically, you become a living puppet, and your soul is destroyed."

"You mean...Snape's lost his soul?" Ron asked, eyeing the Potions master's back a bit uneasily.

Hermione nodded sadly. "And not only that - he's been...oh, it sounds so awful to speak of a human being this way, but...well...programmed." She glanced at Snape as well. "Every move was deliberately planned by Voldemort - that's why he didn't do anything to us, Ron. And I suppose..." Another glance. "I suppose that he's going to kill Sinistra now."

"But why?" asked Harry. "What's Sinistra got to do with it?"

Hermione paused. "Did you see," she asked delicately, "How he faltered when she said his name?"

Harry and Ron nodded.

"I think...I think he's in love with her," Hermione continued. "Only an unbelievably powerful love, a completely pure love, could stop the curse for even a second. And that was much longer than a second."

"Well, he can't just kill Sinistra!" Ron exclaimed. "That's awful! There has to be something left of him that will stop him?"

Hermione looked close to tears. "I don't know, Ron. I think he will."

"But..." Ron looked lost for words.

"Well, what else d'you think Snape could be...programmed to do?" Harry asked. "I mean, I really doubt it's just to put the Cruciatus Curse on me and kill Sinistra."

Hermione sniffled audibly, but didn't break down. "Yes, there has to be something else."

"Maybe we should go see Dumbledore," Harry suggested. "He told me, just today, that he knows how Voldemort's mind works. He may know-"

"Harry, don't you see?" Hermione asked. A tear sneaked down her cheek. "There's no time. Something awful is going to happen. Hogwarts is going to fall."

The words were foreign and ugly in his ears.

"No," he said softly. "No. We need to do something. Something to save this place-"

"Maybe," said Ron thoughtfully, "He's a distraction."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, impatiently wiping away another tear.

"Well, how much damage can one man do?" Ron continued. "He can't be everywhere at once, can he? Maybe someone else is going to sneak in. Voldemort, Death Eaters. Terrible things have been happening for two years; a twisted stage production. And the year is almost over. Our side is falling. This is their grand finale. Voldemort is going to be here." He paused. "Harry, you're going to have to find him somehow. Find him and defeat him. If you do, everything else will be stopped. He's their driving force, he's the source of their power. Without him, everyone else will fall. Maybe Snape will even get his soul back."

Hermione shook her head. "No. Only Dumbledore could do that. Snape will die if Voldemort is defeated."

"Well, then-"

And suddenly, a rush seemed to take over them for a split-second, sound roaring in their ears as their surroundings rapidly lost and regained focus.

Time had resumed.

"Go, Harry," Hermione whispered. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now. "You have to go find him."

"Good luck, mate," Ron said, sounding a bit choked up.

"We love you," Hermione added, a bit weakly. "You can defeat him, Harry."

Harry nodded weakly. "Yeah."

And then, with one last glance at the two people he loved most in the world, he set off down the hall. Snape didn't even glance as he brushed toward them, and Harry simply ran with no clue as to what his destination was. Everything seemed blurred as he ran, a flash of cold stone walls and occasional hanging tapestries, and then a long flash of red as he neared Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Red...

He stopped and stared at the wall, a feeling of dread welling through him.

And eight words, eight disgustingly familiar words, had been painted there.

'Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever.'

And then he knew.

Without pausing to think, Harry fled into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She rushed toward him at once, a look of fear on her transparent face.

"Harry," she said at once, "Someone just went in; a boy with black hair, he looked around seventeen. And he was carrying a girl in his arms, she was unconscious."

Ginny.

Harry rushed forward without replying to Myrtle, but for once, she didn't burst into sobs. Instead, he could feel her eyes watching him nervously as he fixed his eyes on the tap with the tiny snake engraved into it.

"Open up!" he commanded forcefully, a strange hiss filling his ears instead of his voice.

The entrance to the chamber was revealed, and he ignored the memories of his second year as he climbed inside.

Ginny.

He had to save Ginny, and he had to defeat Voldemort. There was no basilisk this time; no obstacles. He only had to defeat Tom Riddle.

He ran through the chamber without thinking, his own heartbeat pulsating in his ears. He was almost there...almost there....Ginny would be all right, he would save her. And he would beat Riddle. He didn't know how, but he would. A certain ferocious determination was pulsating through his veins, and somehow he knew that he couldn't be defeated that night.

The Chamber's huge, spiraling columns surrounded him as he ran faster; he could see the statue of Salazar Slytherin. And then-

"We meet again, Harry Potter."

A voice; high, cruel, and cold.

Shaking, Harry turned to see Tom Riddle standing behind him, looking just as he had during their encounter five years before. He smirked.

"We agreed it would be pleasant to relive one of our meetings long ago, Harry Potter," Riddle continued, an evil smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Virginia and I."

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked fiercely.

"No need to sound so troubled, Potter," Riddle said with a cold smile. "She's perfectly fine. Believe me."

"You expect me to believe you?" Harry snapped angrily. "You're awful; you're trying to destroy us."

"Oh no, Harry Potter," said Riddle. "Not at all. I simply want one thing, and then I'll be on my way."

"What?" Harry growled, eyes searching desperately behind Riddle for a trace of red hair or any other sign that Ginny was indeed there.

"You."

Harry glared. "What do you mean?"

"You have powers, Potter," Riddle said casually, beginning to pace slowly back and forth. "Powers that I hadn't even imagined. I'd like you to join me. Together, we could do great things."

"No," Harry said simply.

"Oh, but yes, Harry," Riddle returned. "You could have eternal youth, as I have now. You could live forever, you could make anyone in the world at your beckon call." A hint of red seemed to swirl within his steely silver eyes. "You could bring your parents back."

"No," Harry said shakily.

"But don't you want your parents back, Harry?" asked Riddle. "Don't you want your parents, and Cedric Diggory, and Cho Chang? Colin Creevey? Rubeus Hagrid? Your dear Aunt Petunia? Alastor Moody? They've all died because of you, after all." He paused, a malicious glint in his eye. "Surely you must be...overwhelmed with guilt?"

Harry shook his head weakly. This was just one of Riddle's mind games...he wouldn't fall for it. He wouldn't.

"What about that dear little Charms teacher of yours? Flitwick, I believe?" he continued. "That pathetic Professor Quirrell? He was too easy. What about Severus Snape? He's lost his soul, because of you."

"That was you," Harry said, hating the way his voice shook. "I couldn't do anything about that."

Riddle laughed - a high piercing laughter that brought into Harry's mind his mother's screams and lots of green light.

"How you do fool yourself, Potter," he whispered viciously. "You won't take responsibility for anything, will you? You simply blame all the lives you've taken on others. Just because they were not murdered by your hand doesn't mean that they wouldn't still be alive if it weren't for you."

"No," Harry said weakly.

"Now, Potter, who do you think you're fooling?" Riddle asked, tone almost sickeningly bright. "But don't worry...if you join me, all of their lives will be restored, and all your guilt will disappear."

He could still remember Cedric's body falling next to him, lifeless. Could remember so much crying and pain and aching and lives destroyed in the blink of an eye. It had all been his fault, all of it...he would give anything, anything to make it up to them...anything to make it all right...their voices, their last screams, their requests danced through his mind at a rapid pace; he could remember Cho smiling at him the first time he'd seen her, he could remember Hagrid's horrible cooking and Moody's gravelly voice shouting "Constant Vigilance!", Professor Flitwick standing on his stack of pillows repeating, "Swish and flick! Swish and flick!", Colin Creevey's overly eager, "Hiya, Harry!", Aunt Petunia snapping, "They died in a car crash, and don't ask questions." His father, smiling down at him and muttering nonsense words...his mother singing very, very softly to him at night...

He had to join Voldemort, he had to. He had to make up for the guilt somehow...perhaps he could see his parents again, and he could apologize, and he could be a bit nicer to Colin, and be genuinely happy for Cho and Cedric, and devour about thirty of Hagrid's rock cakes. He wanted them back.

"Join me, Harry Potter."

YesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYesYes.

'Hush little baby, don't say a word...Mama's gonna buy you a mocking bird...' 'Yer a wizard, Harry' 'Take a bath, okay?' 'I really hope you do well, Harry.' 'I heard that if you develop wizard pictures a certain way, they'll move!' 'And if that mocking bird don't sing, Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring...'

Yes...he had to say yes. He had to have them back.

And yet...and yet...

It wasn't right.

"No."

At this, the world seemed to come back into focus; his head was spinning horribly, and he watched almost distantly as Riddle fell to the floor. His skin grew pale, his hair colorless...his deadened gray eyes shone red...his nose was reduced to tiny slits...

And then, suddenly, a green light seemed to shoot from him and filled the room. Harry's first thought was that it was the killing curse, but then he still found himself very much alive. Instead, a strange sort of malice seemed to dance through him, a power so forceful that he felt as though he was going to burst...he needed to destroy, to kill, to prove his greatness!

...

It stopped.

Harry collapsed as the power seemed to leave his body, his eyes on Voldemort. He was Riddle once more, but looked pale, sickly.

"I..."

His voice was very raspy and small. Very cautiously, Harry approached him.

"Fate...fate will take its course, Harry Potter. And our fight has only begun."

And with that, Riddle's head dropped weakly to his side; his eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling.

"Harry?"

He turned weakly to see Ginny standing in the corner of the chamber.

"He's gone," Harry said, not quite believing it.

Ginny nodded.

Harry Potter awoke with a start.