A/N: I had an excuse, but I've forgotten it. I was sick for a while, the holidays, writer's block, school finals, etc etc etc. Here it is. I hope you all haven't formed lynch mobs for me yet. That would be kind of frightening.

"-found in this situation, it is only proper to bow to the hippogryff. If you have not offended him too much, the hippogryff will then allow you to touch it." Harry squirmed, trying to wake up. He knew he shouldn't be asleep any longer. There was something he desperately needed to do, but he couldn't remember what it was. "Harry?" The same voice that had been lecturing about hippogryffs said his name. "Are you awake, son?" Harry wanted to say yes, that he was awake, but his voice wasn't cooperating with him. His throat hurt too much to be of any use anyway. He felt a hand take his own. "If you're awake, Harry, squeeze my hand." Tom. That voice was Tom! Harry summoned all of his energy and squeezed. He heard Tom give a sharp laugh. "I've missed you, Harry." Harry wanted to squeeze his hand again, but a pleasant warmth crept over him and he fell asleep again.

"'Fled is that music- Do I wake or sleep?'" Harry was awake again. What was that? "That was 'Ode to a Nightengale' by John Keats, Harry. Wonderful writer, isn't he?" He wanted to ask what exactly Keats had meant, but still couldn't find his voice. "Hmm, how about some Lewis Carroll?" Tom asked, flipping the pages of a book. "I think you'll like this one." Tom started to read a poem that had a lot of nonsense words in it. " 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogroves, and the mome raths outgrabe.' " Tom stopped and seemed to think for a few minutes. "Of course, I'll have to ground you for life if I ever find you going after any enemy like that, Harry." He said. Tom paused and seemed like he was going to stay quiet for a while. Harry had something he needed to do. He just couldn't remember what it was. He tried to roll over, as he was very uncomfortable. "Harry? Are you awake?"

"Yeah." He croaked. He heard a loud clatter as though Tom had jumped up.

"Madame Pomfrey! Madame Pomfrey!" He was in the hospital wing. He hated the hospital wing. He wondered how many times he had been here just this year and decided he really didn't want to know. What did he need to do?

"Good to have you back among us, Mr. Potter." Madame Pomfrey's voice said from his left. Harry cracked his eyes open and gave his best Snape glare. Snape. SNAPE! Professor Snape and Draco were in danger! Voldemort had them. He had to help them! "You'll be fine, Mr. Potter." Madame Pomfrey put a vial to his lips and the potion slipped past them. "You just need some more rest." He didn't need rest! He needed to help Draco!

"Go to sleep, son." Tom's hand carded through Harry's hair. Harry felt himself relax and slowly fell back asleep, Draco and Professor Snape on his mind.

The next time Harry woke up, the hospital wing was dark and quiet. He felt fine, as though the visions had never happened. He couldn't quite scold himself for not keeping his shields up and in place. He now knew where Draco and Snape were. All that was needed was for him to go and get them out. It would have to be him and him alone. Voldemort had said the pair of them would die on sight if he did not come alone. He got out of bed and found clothes waiting underneath the bed. Tom's doing, obviously, as they were close to brand new. He gathered them in his arms and pulled them on, finding a hair tie in the pocket. He restrained his hair and sighed. He felt like he was pulling on armor for battle. He almost laughed when he had that thought. Maybe he should treat it as such. He shrugged into the heavy outer robe and fastened the clasp. He would need to get rid of the robe later, but for now it felt good and would hide his face if necessary.

He was about to leave the hospital wing when he thought of Tom. Tom was going to kill him. He hunted about for parchment and quill. He could at least leave a note, telling Tom where he had gone. Not that that would save his life if he survived Voldemort. Tom would kill him. He scribbled a short note on a piece of parchment, paused, and signed with a name only Tom would understand. He added a short post script and placed the note on his bed. He was sure they would find it there. He adjusted his hood and left the hospital wing. He crept down the hallway to the corner and then ran. He needed to get there soon. Voldemort was not patient. He made it out and Apparated.

Severus crawled over to where the neo-Death Eaters had dropped his son and gathered the shaking boy into his arms. Severus was not sure why he had not been killed yet. He'd been tortured, yes, but that really didn't bother him. It had happened before in his life. He could easily stand that. The thing that almost broke him was listening to Draco scream. The Dark Lord was particularly adept at psychological torture, and he used it on both of them. Severus tore a bit of cloth from his shirt and pressed it to one of Draco's many cuts. He gritted his teeth as Draco's sweat burned one of his own open wounds. He willed the slight pain away and did the best he could with what he had, which wasn't much at all. "When we go home, Draco, we will take a long vacation, somewhere warm and sunny. You and I will play Quidditch, eat pizza, and be absolutely sloth-like the whole time. You will play that contraption you like so much, and I shall attempt to keep your eyes from falling out." He rocked Draco back and forth, as much to comfort himself as it was to comfort the boy. He nearly dropped him when he heard a weak voice croak out a word.

"Promise?" Severus smiled down at Draco, glad to see the boy was still all there.

"I promise." Draco smiled and closed his eyes, relaxing in his father's arms. "Which will fall first, I wonder, your thumbs from over use, or your eyes from lack of moisture?"

"Eyes, Dad. Definitely my eyes. I have eight other fingers to use." Severus rolled his eyes and snorted. He settled back against the wall when he heard their night - guard take up his post. The Death Eaters and the Dark Lord were retiring for the evening, as Severus was not taken for another round of torture. Severus was not going to argue. He reached down and stroked Draco's hair, hoping that he could keep his promise to the boy.

"He is grounded for life!" Tom shouted, waving Harry's note in the air like a flag. "When I get my hands on that boy…" his ranting turned into inarticulate rage. Hermione and Ron stood off to the side, summoned from their beds to be asked about Harry. They passed theories back and forth about why Harry had just left like he had, and told no one where he was going, but giving the reason for his going. Hermione picked up the note from the bed where Tom had thrown it during his ranting and read it.

"Ron! Listen to this!" Hermione hissed, catching the redhead's attention.

Dear Tom,

You'll kill me, but I've gone to get Draco and Snape. They won't last

much longer. I know where they are, and they'll be back soon. Please

have Madame Pomfrey ready. I hope to see you soon, Voldemort free.

Love,

Your Son

Dare i dream to lov?

nannsdon and school

"That's a load of nonsense at the end." Ron said, pointing to the two lines.

"Wizards." Hermione grumbled to herself. "It's a clue to where Harry has gone, Ron. It's a word scramble." She found a quill and started trying to decode it. "Hmm, the capital letters." She worked for just two more minutes and figured it out. "London!" She shouted. The gathered wizards turned and stared at her.

"What was that, Miss Granger?" Professor Wallace asked.

"He's gone to London. That's where Voldemort has Draco and Snape." She told him. "I would suggest you all hurry. Harry doesn't hesitate." Professor Wallace nodded.

"That clears things up considerably. How long will it take for the tracking charm to happen once we tell it where to look?" Poling asked Flitwick. The small wizard held up a finger and pointed to a map.

"There he is." All of the gathered Order members stormed from the hospital wing and fought their way through the doors. Only the two teenagers and Madame Pomfrey were left.

"Well, that worked." Hermione said, wondering why it had completely escaped the older wizards. She turned to look at Ron, who was still sitting where she had left him. "Ron, what's wrong?" Ron looked up, just a little confused.

"My best mate went and got smart without me." Hermione could only laugh.

"When the boy arrives, let him through." Voldemort said to his followers. "You are not to confront him or cast anything on him. You are to leave him to me." The hooded figures nodded at his wishes. He turned to the foe glass and waited. He knew the boy would come. He had shown him where he was, who he had, and what they were doing with him. Now it was just a matter of time. The boy was coming. Voldemort smiled to himself. He could almost see how the future would be without the boy in his way. It was time for the new regime to start.

Harry shivered as the cool, foggy mist cut straight through his cloak and seeped into his skin. This was the first time he actually wanted to bring someone with him, but he congratulated himself on the clue he had left behind. They would be just in time to get Draco and Snape out. He knew if Hermione got anywhere neat that note, they'd be here sooner than he expected. He used his scar as a type of magnet, leading him to where Voldemort was waiting. He could feel him. He was getting closer. Harry hoped that all Muggles had cleared out of the deserted warehouse before Voldemort had taken it over. He knew that he would be hard pressed to save any Muggles tonight. He opened the gate to the warehouse and felt the wards accept him. He shivered at the foreign sensation. Voldemort knew he was coming. Harry was walking into a trap and he knew it.

He stopped and thought about it. If he walked into that building, he may never walk out of it. He was the only one able to defeat the Dark Lord. Draco and Snape needed help now, but he had no guarantee he would even reach them in time. If he didn't defeat Voldemort now, then when? He would spend the summer in Ministry custody and protected to death. He stopped, amazed that his two shadows hadn't followed him, and even more amazed that he had managed to get past them, wherever they had been lurking when he left. He was impressed with himself. That was almost impossible, and he had done it without even thinking about it.

"What is the boy doing?" Voldemort demanded. No one dared answer for fear of the repercussions. "Why is he just standing there?" Voldemort glared at the foe glass, as though the glass would give him the answer. That blasted Gryffindor was just standing there. He was not coming into the building and looking for his teacher and friend like he was supposed to be doing. He was ruining everything! Voldemort swore to himself. Why did everything go wrong when this boy was involved? "Call the others. We're going out to meet him." The boy had to die now. He could not exist any longer.

Harry looked up as he heard laughing. Voldemort. He had come out of the building and was now faing Harry surrounded with his Death Eaters. Harry guessed that they tired of waiting for him. "Is the Boy Who Lived all alone?" Voldemort said in false concerned tone.

A piece of the poem Tom had read earlier popped into Harry's head. 'The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, came whiffing through the tulgey wood, and burbled as it came.' Harry thought. He looked at Voldemort. "Original, Malfoy. You come up with that by yourself, or did they help?"

"You dare mock me?" Voldemort demanded, advancing on Harry. Harry reached up and undid the clasp at his throat and tossed his cloak aside. He wouldn't need it now. He wondered if all bad guys used such pompous speech when ready to kill someone, for Voldemort had followed a consistent pattern for quite a while in his attempts to kill Harry. That pattern always involved lofty speeches.

"There is no daring about it, Malfoy. I do mock you." Harry brought up his wand. "We end this now." Harry pondered his own speech and figured it was not too pompous and he was safe from becoming the next evil bad guy. He locked away the pain in his scar and focused on Voldemort. "You and me. No one else." He said, circling Voldemort. Voldemort smiled and shook his head.

"Harry, Harry, Harry." Harry paused at the disappointed tone. "You can't make demands. You're outnumbered, outmatched, and outwitted." He looked around, as though realizing this for the first time. His facial expression screamed 'what have I gotten myself into?' "If you give up now, I might be merciful." He stepped closer with those words, as though offering private counsel. "I'll kill you quickly." Harry's wand lowered just a bit and Voldemort's face gave off a look a triumph. "Dumbledore's sacrificial lamb sent out to slaughter." Harry looked up at Voldemort. "Any last words? We would love to hear them."

Draco opened his eyes and looked over at his father. "Dad? What are you doing?" He asked, seeing the man at the door to the room. Severus was doing something there that seemed funny.

"I will say this about the Dark Lord's followers. They are strong magically, but rocks have higher common sense levels." Severus showed Draco the thing he was using on the lock.

"A butter knife? What are you doing with that?" Draco asked, sitting up. The effects from earlier were slowly wearing off.

"I tried to take the door off the hinges, but that didn't work too well. Now I'm taking the doorknob apart. I've just about got it." Draco wondered exactly why the Death Eaters hadn't bothered sweeping the room cleam. Oh yes. Rocks. "Ah ha! Got it. Come, Draco. We are leaving." Severus helped Draco to his feet and supported the boy on one side. He led Draco through the open doorway and down the hallway to the stairs he knew were there. He didn't take the time to learn why all the Death Eaters had left. He was just grateful that it had happened.

"Dad!" Draco stopped at the window in the stairwell and pointed. "It's Harry!" The Potter boy was mad. That was the only explanation for his rash behavior, trying to take out the Dark Lord alone. "We need to help him." Draco said, trying to stand on his own.

"How, exactly, did you want to attack the Dark Lord, Draco?" Snape asked sarcastically as he pulled Draco's arm around his neck. "With our glares?" Draco's stubborn face only served to further upset him. "You've been corrupted by Gryffindors. Think, child!" Severus helped Draco out a side door and guided him around the perimeter of the building.

"Let's get to Hogwarts." Severus nodded. He reached under his shirt and pulled out a chain with a cross on it. Draco stared at the unfamiliar symbol.

"There are some things, Draco, that not even magic can explain." He held out the necklace and Draco touched it. "Pacem." The portkey whisked them away to Hogwarts and directly into the hospital wing.

"Would you like to hear the prophecy?" Harry asked in a small voice. Voldemort paused.

"That would assuage my curiosity." Harry nodded and took a deep breath.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…And the Dark Lord shall die by his hand…and so ends the terror…The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies." The entire circle had fallen silent, with Voldemort eyeing Harry in a new way, with fear. Harry knew changing the words would have the right effects. He had Voldemort right where he wanted him. "You forgot one thing, Voldemort." Voldemort's expression soured.

"What is that?" Voldemort spat, taking out his own wand.

"I'm the Boy Who Lived." Harry threw out a hand and the entire circle went down. "No matter what you do, I just won't die." Harry raised his own wand and shouted out three spells, one after the other. Voldemort blocked them and sent his own. Harry allowed it to wrap around his own wand and threw it back at Voldemort. Harry felt himself falling into a familiar rhythm he was used to with Poling and Winfield and paced himself. He had no idea how long Voldemort could last in a duel and needed to take that into consideration. He grunted as a cutting curse hit his shoulder.

"Expelliarmus!" Voldemort's spell hit Harry dead on and Harry's wand left his hand. Harry threw up his hand and managed to knock Voldemort off his feet.

"Legillmens!" Harry said as he looked Voldemort in the eyes. Harry could feel him throwing up hasty walls, which Harry broke down just as quickly as they went. Voldemort was good, but he was not Tom or Snape. Harry went deeper, burrowing into the mind of Voldemort, searching for the right spot.

"Albus! Look!" A ring of Death Eaters lay on the ground, as though they had just fallen there. Harry and Voldemort were in the center of the ring, both just staring at the other. "What is he doing, Albus?" Minerva asked as some of the other Order members started working on dismantling the wards.

"I wish I knew, Minerva." The wards were strong, and the entire Order had to stand helpless and watch what happened next.

Harry sank to his knees in pain, hands clutched to his scar. He screamed, unable to bear the pain threatening to open his skull. He opened his eyes and peered through the red haze covering his eyes. Voldemort was in the same position. Harry raised his hand. "Avada Kedavra!" A green ball of light sped towards Voldemort and hit him in the center of his chest. Harry fell to the ground, unable to support his own weight. Voldemort collapsed, dead from the curse. Harry's eyes closed and a peaceful look crept over his face. "Sirius?" The Order rushed up as the word died. Tom got down next to Harry and gathered him in his arms.

"Harry? Son?" Dumbledore reached out and laid a hand on the man's shoulder. "No, Harry."

A/N: Patiently awaiting your response.