Neither can Live While the Other Survives …

Chapter Eight: Angels

Summary: Either must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives … the Prophecy is about to be fulfilled …who will die at the other's hand? Can Harry say everything he wants to say before it's too late? Harry must vanquish the Dark Lord, or the Dark Lord will vanquish him …

Disclaimer: I own this plot as no one but JK herself knows how it will end. Oh, there goes an odd coloured carrot embedded inside the ever-approaching iceberg. And a monkey. Oh I forgot about the floral patterns it possesses. Turtles.

A/N: Sorry I haven't replied to any of you this chappie, but there was just too many and I'm swamped with work as it is. This is the final chapter, (I did warn it wouldn't be long) and it took me absolutely ages to write! I set this chapter to Angel by Sarah McLaughlin, therefore all the lyrics belong to her.I called the chapter after the song; it doesn't really have any relevance to the content, but it just seemed the right title. Judge if you will. So thanks all of you guys who have reviewed. It means a lot! I love you!

Spend all your time waiting,

For that second chance,

For a break that will make it okay,

There's always some reason,

To feel not good enough,

And it's hard at the end of the day,

Muffled coughs echoed through out the hall, resounding off broken and cracked walls, choking through the dust rising. People rose to their feet, and as they did so, they realised suddenly that they were the only people doing so; the Death Eaters remained on the stone floor, their hands over their heads, fingers raised in submission, defeat.

Outlines of weary bodies began to swim into focus; staggering figures, clutching walls or each other to stay upright. Faces were torn, eyes were wide, as though no one could quite believe what had just happened.

Harry stood, shakily it was true, but he stood straight, alone, and obviously alive. All around him were bodies, Hogwarts and Death Eater alike, strewn all over the hall, some hanging over the banisters above, others littered beneath his feet. A long cut ran the length of his face, tracing underneath both of his eyes; they had been burning with the heat and magic of the Green Flame Torch; a gash was lucky, his hair dirty and straggly, his face smudged with dirt and rubble from the hundreds of bricks which lay in disarray.

Everyone was looking at him, even Dumbledore; as though there was something he should do or say to confirm it was real; they had won.

We need some distraction,

Oh, beautiful release,

It's easier to believe,

In this sweet madness,

All this glory and sadness,

It brings me to my knees,

Harry exhaled, blinked furiously and swallowed.

"I did it," he said shakily.

Silence fell like a heavy iron curtain on the company. The Death Eaters were motionless, the survivors all said nothing, did nothing, until …

An applause, started by Dumbledore echoed around the Hall. Mr Weasley followed suit, as did Lupin and Ron, Hermione and McGonagall. Before Harry could draw his second breath, the Hall rang with clapping. Everyone's hands were blurry from the rabid movement, Harry standing tall amongst them all.

He dropped to his knees and looked at them. A sob escaped him, for all the dead who had fought, fought for him and lost, for Sirius, for his parents, for all the innocence. For all the losses that had been suffered since Voldemort had first arisen.

Ginny broke forwards and crawled up onto the rubble, and hugging Harry. He hugged her back, as though she were the only one there, as though they were completely alone.

Ginny broke back and got him to his feet, when Ron and Hermione broke forwards.

It was the best moment of Harry's life, ever. Everyone he loved, here with him. He felt Sirius was there, as were his parents.

Eventually, sense arrived amongst them, and those who could walk began moving amongst those who could not, helping those with injuries, covering up those who would never speak nor breathe again. The Death Eaters were moved to a corner, a binding spell placed on them all, none showing any signs of struggle or revenge. They were truly defeated. Harry recognised what it must mean that they were all so powerless. Voldemort was truly gone.

Ginny found Harry, performing a cauterising spell on Neville's arm, which had been gashed badly by falling rubble.

"Harry," she said.

He looked at her, face dirty, cuts and bruises all over her, yet her eyes sparkling with a determined air.

"Harry you know what you said before … before all this happened?"

Harry knew perfectly well what she meant, yet half – smiled to himself to think about what he should say.

" – About how you were going to tell me something, if you survived?"

Harry breathed in, heat racing.

"What was it?" she asked, as though politely interested.

Before that night, Harry would have never of dreamed of saying anything quite so bold, but the thought of wining the war, the thought of all this being over, filled him with immense confidence. "I love you."

Ginny blinked. "I – what?"

"I love you," he repeated. "I've loved you since we met at your house and you ran a mile, and since you nearly died in the Chamber of Secrets, and since you risked your life for me two years ago to try and save Sirius. You're a good person, Gin, and I can't help it. I've never said anything because I was afraid about what you might say, and then I'd look stupid. But … right now, I don't really care about looking stupid."

Ginny beamed, and tried to stop the smile spread over her face, but she couldn't quite manage it. "How long have you been planning that speech?"

"About three years," said Harry.

Ginny giggled.

" – So … am I an idiot? Or do you …"

She stopped him talking by kissing him. It wasn't a big thing, just a soft answer.

Harry blinked and drew back. "So … is that a yes?"

"What did you ask me?"

"Uh … well – nothing, really …"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"That's right."

No one saw the lone Death Eater resist the spell. No one noticed that there was one who was not conforming to the groupthink of defeat. No one saw him break free of the others and begin to crawl along the floor, snakelike, unnoticed.

In the arms of the Angel,

Fly away, from here,

From this dark, cold empty room,

And the endlessness that you fear,

Lucius Malfoy wriggled, wand gripped so tightly in his hand that it drew blood, staining the floor as he slithered, blond head down, inconspicuous. They did see him eventually, but by then, it was too late.

A curse was whispered, a pair of green eyes widened in shock, a body fell.

Screams rent the sleepy victorious atmosphere, wands pointed, spells were fired, one connected, did its job. Malfoy fell to the ground, but the damage was done.

You are pulled from the wreckage,

Of your silent reverie,

You're in the arms of the Angel,

May you find some comfort here,

Ginny hadn't realised what happened until Harry slumped forwards into her. First, she thought he was faking, then she thought he had merely fainted, exhaustion catching up with him, naturally, after all he had been through. But as she turned him over, and saw no life in his dead green eyes, she knew.

More screaming, so much more panic now than there had ever been before.

Dumbledore bent down, kicking the dead body of Malfoy aside, Lupin at his side, prizing Harry from Ginny's grip. He smoothed his hair back from Harry's forehead and closed his eyes, a tear trickling down to his beard.

"B – but the … the Prophecy!" Ginny screamed. "The Prophecy –"

"- Had already been carried out," said Lupin slowly.

Hermione and Ron were seen at the back, mouths open, disbelieving. "Oh, God," she whispered. "Why didn't we see –"

Dumbledore looked down at Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said. "I'm sorry I could not protect you."

"He protected us," said Ginny, tears streaming down her face, realisation creeping in.

"He saved us all," said Ron.

Ginny cradled Harry's head, rocking back and forth. Eventually, though a crowd of those closest to him remained around Harry, people returned to wandering amongst the wounded, carrying on with life, helping others, fighting the fight.

Though the biggest fight of all time had just been won.

In the arms of the Angel,

May you find … some comfort here …

A/N: Finished. Thank you again. X X X X X X