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Not Myself by Saerry Snape

Chapter 181 – Suffer the Losses, Count the Victories

"No!" shouted Niamh from the parapet. "No, no, no!"

Draco struggled to hold her down as she fought against him.

"Let me go!" she shrieked, flailing blindly at him. "Professor Snape! Professor!"

Draco's heart sank as he heard those words and the crying coming from the field.

"He's dead," he whispered to the girl struggling beneath him. "He's dead."

"No," gasped Niamh. She began to sob uncontrollably and whimpered, clutching at him now instead of trying to push him away. Draco pulled her close and tried his best to comfort her.

The two cats' that still lingered nearby moved forward, their eyes glittering. Cat jumped up into Niamh's lap and purred loudly while Mrs. Norris curled up against the girl's leg, offering mute comfort.

Draco turned his head and looked out over the parapet, listening to the battle that still waged below them.


Voldemort looked coldly at Harry, who was rocking slowly back and forth, his father clutched close.

"Time to be rid of you both," he growled, lifting Ardwynhén again.

Harry's head lifted and Voldemort stilled at the rage that burned in eyes that were flooded black. A sneer twisted the young man's lips and he slowly rose to his feet, laying his now dead father down at his feet. He stepped forward, a slow, calculated step, and a growl rumbled up from deep in his chest.

"You will never take the life of another soul," growled Harry. "Not now, not ever."

"And who will stop me?" asked Voldemort.

"Me."

Voldemort laughed and Harry sneered. The dark-haired young man charged at the older wizard and made a wild leap into the air. His right arm cocked back and he punched the darkest wizard the world had ever known.

And sent him sprawling.

Red eyes filled with surprise and anger, Voldemort heaved himself back to his feet. Ardwynhén lay forgotten on the ground between the two wizards.

"So," said Voldemort, "you dare strike me?"

"That and so much more," sneered Harry.

"Shall we fight like wizards? Or filthy Muggle's?"

"Let's go out on a limb and fight like Muggle's. After all…what more are two Halfbloods worth?"

Voldemort sneered and growled, "You dare…"

"I dare," shot Harry. "Come on, Riddle! Fight me!"

Voldemort snarled and lunged at Harry but the younger wizard spun agilely out of the way. He put all his weight on one foot and lashed out with the other, striking Voldemort in the back. The Dark Lord went sprawling again.

"You little…"

"Pisses you off, doesn't it?" hissed Harry. "That a mere boy has beaten you more times than anyone else. Makes your blood boil. Makes you want to kill me, right?"

"Yesss," hissed Voldemort, scarlet eyes narrowing.

Harry smirked and made a forwarding motion with his left hand. He dropped back into a fighting crouch, still smirking.

"Come kill me then. If you can."

"Impudent boy!" roared Voldemort, lunging at him again. He swung a fist but Harry ducked beneath it and came up, his back against the Dark wizard's chest. Flinging his head back, he heard the Dark Lord's jaw break then a rib as he spun and slammed his palm against the thin chest.

Voldemort stumbled back, wheezing. He glared at Harry, who stood defiantly before him, chin lifted and eyes flashing.

"I'll kill you yet," he snarled, drawing his wand from within the folds of his robes.

"Oh," said Harry, seeing the wand, "and here I thought you were a honorable wizard. Wait, no your not…"

"CRUCIO!"

"Speculum!" shouted Harry, whipping his wand from its holster. A blue half-shield formed in front of him and sent the Cruciatus Curse rebounding back towards Voldemort. The older wizard dodged it and it instead hit the back of a Death Eater, who went down in convulsions.

"Crucio!" shouted Voldemort again. This time Harry didn't dodge. He instead sent a curse of his own making slinging towards the Dark wizard.

"Decollo!"

Harry went down a moment later, writhing in pain. But his curse flew true. A spinning, golden light went careening towards Voldemort and struck him a glancing blow in the neck as he tried to dodge it. Blood flew and the wizard clapped his hand to his neck.

"Imperio!"

"Fuck you!" shot Harry, stumbling unsteadily to his feet. He snarled and charged blindly, the pain of the Cruciatus Curse still rampaging through his body. There was a wisp of movement from his left and he spun, swinging wildly with his fists. He struck something soft and clung there, kicking and shouting.

"Get off!" shouted Voldemort.

"Comburo!" bellowed Harry, slamming his wand against the Dark Lord's side. As fire rippled from the end of his wand, he managed to call upon his own power over the element. He forced all his pain, anger, and grief into one hard ball and sent it rushing out his left hand in a blaze that enveloped the Dark wizard.

Voldemort screamed and Harry stumbled back, feeling his skin burned in places. The Cruciatus Curse still caused him to twitch in pain but now he was in so much more, it didn't affect him much. Turning, he blindly crawled away from the burning figure that Voldemort had become. He couldn't open his eyes now as his eyelids were burned, singed by the fire he'd called.

He kept crawling until his hands touched a boot and then a pants leg. Scrambling further up, his hand found the still, cold planes of his father's face and he sobbed softly.

Then he turned towards the spot where he could hear Voldemort screaming and lifted his right arm, the one that the Gauntlet had been born upon and that it itself had healed. His wand had been lost somewhere and he prayed that he had enough energy left within him to get off the wandless spell he was planning. He had the anger…it was the power he needed.

"Diripio."

Voldemort's screams intensified as the curse ripped into him, tearing skin from his already burnt body.

"Eviscero."

The Dark Lord screamed again as his stomach was ripped open. His blood pooled on the ground around him, turning the blackened grass red.

"Iuguolo."

More blood spilled as Voldemort's throat was cut by an unseen force.

"Yyet Des acht di urdish bah, di durash aith xarra, caran iph turree gath. Desais radhan bourda di yyet pa loch, yyet doth vinteth maschta dame. Jip gree quera radhan olvik aith gree sessais radhan ishpah!"

The spell Harry had shouted in Elven swirled, spun, gathered force – then ripped its way across the battlefield. It tore through every combatant, ripping pieces from some and nothing from others. In a flurry, it shored through Hogwarts, which glowed as though its stones were illuminated from within.

The spell ripped through Niamh on the parapet, who screamed and arched back in Draco's arms as the Dark runes of the Gauntlet appeared on her right arm then vanished as though they had been sanded away.

When the spell turned back towards the grounds, it clove straight through Etienne, who was trying to get to his half-brother and nephew. The blonde wizard staggered then fell as he was sapped of all his strength. From him, the spell shot across the grounds and enveloped Severus' dead body and then Harry's living.

Harry pointed his finger towards the place where he could hear Voldemort's screams coming from…and released the spell. He screamed as it ripped its way down his arm in all its force – all of the Elven magic it had gathered meshed together into one gigantic spell.

The spell struck Voldemort full on and bowled him over, surrounding him in a cloud of glowing gold light. Those nearby cringed away and covered their eyes as the glow intensified – and then vanished.

All that remained where Voldemort had stood and burned and bled was a pile of smoking robes and a scarlet phoenix feather.

Harry smiled wanly then collapsed atop his father's lifeless body.


"I think he may be waking up."

"Harry? Harry, please wake up."

"Open your eyes, mate. C'mon…"

"Harry? Harry?"

"Please don't leave me alone, Harry…"

Dark eyelashes fluttered and emerald eyes blinked open.

"Never," croaked Harry hoarsely, peering at Niamh's tear-streaked face. "Never again…"

"Harry," breathed the dark-haired girl. "You scared me so badly…"

"You scared all of us," piped Mika. "I was just a few feet away when Voldemort put that sword through your chest. My heart nearly stopped then and there."

"Why didn't you do anything?"

The white-haired werewolf turned to glare at Ron and snarled, "Slightly hard to do anything when you're grappling with an irate Lucius Malfoy. Speaking of him…he's dead. Sorry about that by the way, Malfoy."

"Its…alright. He was never much of a father anyway."

Draco suddenly turned towards Harry, his gray eyes dull.

"Sorry about your father, Harry."

A lump welled up in Harry's throat and he felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. Niamh, tears in her own eyes, leaned over and brushed them away.

"What happened…after?" asked Harry. "Where's…?"

"The body?"

Harry just nodded.

"Buried. About two months ago."

"You've been comatose for nearly five months, mate," said Ron softly.

Harry blinked and stared at the plaster ceiling far above him in shock.

"Five…months? Coma?"

Niamh nodded and said, "It wasn't like the other one. Wasn't really a coma at all, I don't think. I think…I think your body just couldn't take it anymore."

"So it took a long break," said Ginny.

Harry slowly nodded then looked around at all of them.

"Where's Mione?"

"She stormed out onto the field halfway during the fight," said Draco softly. "Madam Pomfrey doesn't know if she's going to make it…"

"What happened?"

"Seven Cruciatus'. And a curse that completely mangled her left leg."

"Slytherin's Serpent," breathed Harry. "Mione…"

"Is he awake?" said a new voice suddenly.

Five heads and one pair of eyes turned towards the owner of the voice. Etienne stood there in the doorway, his eyes shadowed from lack of sleep and his blonde hair unkempt. His dark eyes were focused solely on the bed-ridden body of his half-nephew.

"Harry…" he began then stopped, frowning.

"We'll leave," said Ginny softly, gently pulling Mika and Ron away from Harry's bed. Draco nodded and followed them, leaving only Niamh.

"I'll come back later," whispered the dark-haired girl. She gently kissed Harry's cheek then slipped past Etienne as he stepped into the room – which was the same that Niamh had spent so many weeks in when the Gauntlet had taken her.

"Hi," said Harry softly, trying to smile at his half-uncle. It must have looked bad because the man grimaced in response.

"Hello, Harry," he said softly. "I…I don't know what to say…"

Harry just looked at the older wizard, waiting.

Etienne sighed and shook himself, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I can't believe he's gone…" he finally said.

"Neither can I," whispered Harry.

Etienne looked up and said, "I'm sorry. I have no right…"

"You were his brother. You have all the right."

"No," said Etienne, "I don't have the right. I went back on an oath we made – to never believe anything I heard about him unless I knew it to be truth. But I did. I believed our father when he told me my own brother had murdered my mother."

"You couldn't have known," mumbled Harry.

"I should have. Now look what I've done… He probably died believing that I still hated him."

Harry shook his head and reached out to touch his uncle's hand, which sat on the edge of his bed.

"No," he said, "he didn't. He knew you hated him but he also knew that was only because you believed he killed your mother. And he knew that underneath you still loved him."

"He…he told you that?"

"Not in so many words. But…yeah."

There was a silence between the two for a long time before Etienne said, "I'm sorry…"

"I know," whispered Harry, closing his eyes. He made a little noise then continued, "Why'd this have to happen? Why didn't he just let me die?"

Etienne gave his nephew a sympathetic look and reached out to grasp one of the young man's hands.

"He loved you," he said in a fierce voice. "He loved you with all that he was worth. And he did what he did because he loved you."

"I want him back…"

"So do I, Harry. But…life doesn't work like that."

"I know," choked Harry, tears pooling in his eyes. "Da… Oh God…"

"Harry?" came Sirius' voice from beyond the door suddenly. It opened and the Animagus entered, blinking when he saw Etienne. "Daladier?"

"Hello, Black."

"You alright? Sorry…stupid question."

Etienne nodded slowly and looked at Harry, who was frowning at his godfather and cousin.

"Harry," said Sirius softly. "I'm sorry I wasn't here…"

"Are you happy?"

Sirius blinked and looked dumbstruck at the question.

"What?"

"Are you happy?" repeated Harry. "Now that my father is dead?"

"Harry, how can you ask me…"

"Answer the question!"

Sirius took a step back, eyes wide, then stopped. His shoulders drooped and he slumped bonelessly into a chair.

"No, I'm not happy," he whispered. "You were right. Our feud was stupid. It was never his fault that my family was killed. That…that was just something the Death Eater's did to show that it wasn't me who was the betrayer. But the Ministry didn't listen. They didn't get it. They just thought it was them getting revenge for my failure."

He choked and shook his head.

"Now I've lost another person… Another member of my family lost to that madman."

"You've still got me," whispered Harry. "And Uncle Eti."

Etienne's head jerked up, eyes wide at the nickname he'd been given years ago by his half-brother.

"Harry…"

"You're my uncle," said the young man. "And a far better one than my other one. You deserve the title."

Etienne's pale cheeks flushed lightly and he ducked his head.

"I'll try my best to earn it."

"Gentlemen," said Madam Pomfrey suddenly from the doorway. "I'd like you to leave Mister Snape alone now."

"Yes, ma'am," said Sirius, rising from his seat. "Oh, and I'll have you know that I've been a free man for three months, Harry. We caught Wormtail."

"That's good," said Harry, suddenly feeling very tired. "I'll talk to you later?"

"Course, kid. Get some sleep first and get well again."

"Yeah. Uncle Eti?"

"Hmm?" said Etienne, turning towards the dark-haired teen.

"Second torch sconce to the left of the Potions classroom door. Third brick down. Sirius'll know the password."

Etienne blinked then nodded slowly. As he turned to leave, Harry added, "I believe there's still Firewhiskey in the cabinet with the stained-glass doors. Da…Da said once that it was best for grieving."

"I'll remember that," said Etienne before Madam Pomfrey bustled him out of the room.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes but opened them again when he saw his father's lifeless face in his mind's eye. Tears pooled again and made silver tracks down his pale cheeks.

"Da," he breathed to the empty room.


"Congratulations, Hogwarts class of 1998!"

"Free at last!" crowed Ron as Hermione squealed gleefully. The bushy-haired girl had recovered rather well from the Cruciatus Curse overdose she'd gotten. There were times that she lost what she'd been saying or forgot a moment but beyond that she was fine. At least her mind was. Her left leg hadn't recovered as well as the rest of her had and she limped because of it.

But that didn't stop her from running out of the Gryffindor class and straight into the green of the Slytherin to hug Draco senseless.

Harry just smiled and leaned his head against Niamh's. The two of them moved slowly away from everyone else, their green and silver graduating robes flapping against their ankles. It was actually the beginning of the next school year but since so many had been injured during the battle, their graduation ceremony had been postponed until every student could be there. By some miracle only those students that had been expelled were absent from the class of '98.

"Its over," said Niamh softly.

"Yeah…I wish he could have seen it."

Niamh looked up at him then wrapped her arms tightly about him in a warm hug.

"So do I. He treated me like his own."

"I know…"

"I miss him. And I never saw it coming." She shook her head and looked up at him. "Not even in the state I was in did I see it coming."

Harry shrugged and said, "Maybe it wasn't meant to happen. Maybe…maybe I was meant to die on that field."

"But you didn't."

"He did. My father's gone, Ni. Is it right that he be taken away from me when I only knew him for so short a time? Like Cedric? And Tyls? And my mother and James?"

"What is right?" asked Niamh. "What truly is right in the world? Who makes the line between what is right and wrong?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe there is no right. Maybe things just…happen."

"That's like saying there's no good and evil," said Harry.

"There isn't. Only shades of gray. No mortal can ever be truly good or truly evil. The Gauntlet was evil. Voldemort was just human. A monster but not evil."

"You have a good point there."

"I always have good points," said Niamh with a smile.

They walked for a few moments in silence before Harry said, "I want to ask you a question."

"Okay."

"Would you…I mean, would you like…"

Niamh stopped and looked up at him curiously.

"Harry…"

"Would you like to come and live with me in the cottage? Uncle Eti and Sirius will be there too, so it won't be just us. We're going to try to rebuild the manor on the estate and…"

Harry was cut off as Niamh flung her arms about his neck and kissed him fit to suffocate him. When she did finally pull back, she grinned at him and said, "I'd love to."

"Good," said Harry. "'Cause if that was a 'no', I was going to be very disappointed."

"Prat," whispered Niamh.

"Wench," shot Harry back, hugging her close. He then smiled and added, "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Harry? Harry, where are you?"

"That's Ron," said Harry, looking up. "I wonder what he wants…"

"You," replied Niamh.

"Oh, but I belong to you, my dear lady."

"I know. But I suppose I could give up claim on my sweet lord for a few moments."

Harry kissed her softly and hissed, "Not a chance. C'mon, let's go see what he's after."

The two of them, arms about each other, walked back towards the festivities where their friends waited.

Translations

Yyet Des acht di urdish bah, di durash aith xarra, caran iph turree gath. Desais radhan bourda di yyet pa loch, yyet doth vinteth maschta dame. Jip gree quera radhan olvik aith gree sessais radhan ishpah! – You I bind to mortal vein, to flesh and blood, your soul without gain. Death be bound to you at once, you who scorned your rightful name. Let the riddle be solved and the wizard be bound!

Diripio – To Tear to Pieces

Eviscero – To Disembowel

Iuguolo – To Cut the Throat

Comburo – To Burn Up

Decollo – To Behead

Author's Note

Sob Only the epilogue left now! And then the four-part sequel – which'll take a bit more than these last two chaps to rewrite.