Emerging from the suffocating darkness, Hermione, Bill and Ron landed hard on the grassy verge. Bill stumbled and dropped down to his knees, laying Ron out on the grass. He quickly brought his wand over to his brother.

"Reneverate," he gasped, running a hand over Ron's face. "Come on, Ronnie. Wake up." Hermione dropped to her knees. It was raining. Although she could hear the screaming voices, the thundering footsteps of multiple people suddenly appearing out of thin air as they left the wards shielding the cottage from view, she wasn't listening. Her mouth was open in a silent scream, her hands coming up to her mouth. Then she let it loose. Her horror blared out of her, a sound piercing through her. A wordless shriek of grief, horror… sheer despair. All she could see was that moment playing over and over in her mind.

Harry stood, watching them, suddenly still as a swirling miasma of darkness surrounded him, a living tumbling mass that appeared fluid in some moments, like oil, then like mist in others. The rushing was deafening. Her tears cascaded, her throat searing as she screamed, reaching out for him as she heard him call to them.

"I can't add you to my list," his eyes found hers as the formless vortex of darkness retreated from him, taking form behind him. "I'm sorry."

Her gaze went to the mass of darkness at Harry's back. She saw them. The red eyes… burning out the darkness, the cat-like pupils trained on Harry. Harry just stood there, his wand pointing down, as he went to say a word to them… but then she was yanked into suffocating darkness.

She covered her face with her hands, wand falling from her fingers.

"Wh… where's Harry?" Ginny asked the question first.

"Ron!" Molly's shriek reached them as she saw Ron on the grass.

"He's alright, mum. Just stunned."

"Hermione, are you hurt?" a soft voice, tight with alarm and concern, serious and not hysterical, the voice of someone who kept their composure in serious situations because of their auror training - Tonks.

A hand touched her shoulder, warm, steady. She lowered her hands, seeing Tonks and Kinglsey at her shoulder. Tonks's hair was flat to her face, wet from the rain. She was scared, but her composure remained, staying strong, in control. She moved to her knees next to Hermione.

"No… no I'm not hurt," she said quietly, her voice rough from her scream. "It's Harry." Her face crumpled. "Vold-" She stopped herself in time.

"You-know-who is there?" Kingsley asked, looking over to the Weasley huddle. "Arthur and Remus… are they-?"

"Alive, I… I think," Hermione replied, her lips numb. She was in shock. "I couldn't see." Tonks shot a look up to Kingsley, who looked grim.

"I know you're in shock," Tonks moved to her, putting her hands on Hermione's shoulder, "but we need to know everything."

"Tonks-." Kingsley went to start.

"Hermione… what happened?"

"We… we were pursued down the tunnel by Death Eaters. Harry saw… saw them being sent back so he told us to run," she said, speaking to the grass, her hands shaking. "Arthur collapsed the way in so they were slowed down. We were running down to the exit, but then Harry saw him… with his connection… and knew that you-know-who was hunting him down."

"You-know-who knew Harry was loose?"

"Not at first. I guess he came to collect Harry himself… maybe he was paranoid."

"He must have thought it prudent to check for himself," Kingsley said, "Harry has a habit of escaping him."

"What next, Hermione?"

"They broke through," she said, her voice shaking. The others were drawing towards her now, listening. "Remus and Arthur… they went to slow them down so we could run with Harry. So we could leave, but there were five of them… and they were attacking us as well. Me and Ron… we hung behind Harry to protect him but they caught us."

"And they saw Harry?"

Hermione nodded. "They came for Harry then and they were right on us… but Harry… he came for us."

"He… went back for you?" Tonks asked, turning her head back to Kingsley. "He saved you didn't he?" Hermione nodded, tears spilling. "How did you get out?"

"Harry said that… it was the only way. That the mission comes first. So he engaged the two… Death Eaters and they removed their masks. Harry was… pushing them back and I think he was trying to put space between us and the Death Eaters so they couldn't stop us. We were trying to stay with him… and then… he was there. You-know-who." Hermione closed her eyes, focusing everything on telling them what had happened, not letting herself break down.

"He ordered his Death Eaters to focus on us while he went for Harry. Harry was trying to keep them back from us but Ron got stunned and… then Vol- you-know-who disapparated. Harry got angry with us and yelled at us to leave, but I… I couldn't leave him again. He then pushed me away with his magic and then…" She put her hands over her mouth, her voice pitching up, "and then he was there and Harry just stood there and did nothing. He just watched us leave."

Tonks was rubbing her arm and there was silence. Kingsley straightened. Ron then broke from the group of Weasleys, holding Harry's cloak. The rain fell around them, the only sound.

"I'm going back," Kingsley announced. "They won't move them, not yet, not while the situation isn't contained."

"You don't believe he'll disapparate with Harry immediately?"

"No. I think they are still there. His trust in his Death Eaters, Yaxley especially, will be thoroughly shaken. I expect he is currently disciplining his Death Eaters, keeping his prisoners within reach, and dispensing punishments himself. I have to move now or there will not be another chance."

"I'm coming with you."

"Absolutely not." Kingsley gave Tonks a firm look. "This is a desperate gamble and if I can't see a way to help them…" He sighed. "The mission, our cause, comes first. We've delivered a direct blow against you-know-who. Once he's done with Harry and the others. He'll be after us next."

"Take Harry's cloak," Ron said, handing him the Invisibility cloak. "He'll want you to use it." Kingsley hesitated a moment, but took it. He reached for the amulet that Hermione gave him, the one that was twinned with one Arthur wore. Her protean charm linked them. It was how Kingsley signaled them to enter the Ministry. He was using it again, to give a signal that he was coming for them.

"Everyone, get back into the house, and if I'm not back in…" Kingsley paused, thinking of a suitable amount of time to launch a rescue mission. "Twenty minutes, you leave. Immediately."

Without another word, Kingsley disapparated.

In the befuddled darkness of his pain-addled stupor, Harry was faintly aware of the tremors that pinched at his muscles. He edged into consciousness and every sense screamed warnings of danger. First and foremost was the pain, the spasms that jolted his muscles in the aftermath of the Cruciatus Curse. He could taste blood, could feel it in his mouth. He was aware that he was laying face down on the floor, the rough floor scratching his cheek. His scar was burning intensely. But the worst thing he felt, the thing that truly warned him of his danger, were the restraints around his wrists, holding his arms behind his back.

He groaned, shifting his arms, his wrists bound with some sort of cloth and the movement made his breath catch in his throat. It triggered a coughing fit that left him dazed and breathless.

His mind raced for his last memory, for when the black, twisting turbulent presence of Lord Voldemort surrounded him. He had waited, watching for his friends to leave, knowing that there was nothing he could do for himself, not now. If he tried to run, he wouldn't get far. The darkness retreated, the pain in his scar also retreated, and a tremendous dread gripped him in its place. He couldn't see him, but he heard him, his robes rustling, his breathing audible as he exhaled out of large, snake-like nostrils.

He could hear Remus's desperate flight down towards him, but he knew it was in vain. It had all been in vain. The moment Voldemort knew where he was, there had been no chance of escaping. That he allowed him to get this close… he could tell, it had been a game. Being caught so close to the exit… all on purpose.

When he lifted his head, meeting the red-eyed stare, the one that haunted his nightmares, he saw that truth and then he heard it.

"You cannot escape me, Harry Potter."

Then the pain struck him down and he was lost in the full power of the Cruciatus Curse, knowing only the utter agony of Lord Voldemort's wrath, the same that he had once experienced in Little Hangleton. He was on the floor, his existence only pain until he passed out.

"Can...can you hear me, Harry?" a voice whispered in his ear. A voice that he knew. He opened his eyes, finding his glasses on his nose and turned his head to the voice. His vision was blurry and he blinked, clearing away the sticky tears. He saw someone slumped next to him, but he couldn't make out a face. It was very dark, the source of light far ahead. He went to move, but he found that he couldn't, his muscles not working as they should as they spasmed. He dropped his head down into the floor, the effort making him dizzy, a faint spell threatening.

The realisation stabbed into his heart as he properly addressed the presence of warm bodies on either side of him. He wasn't alone. He screwed up his face against the howling despair that kicked in as he worked out who was with him. He felt them shifting awkwardly in the ground. They were restrained as well. He could feel their warmth, their robes rubbing against him as they moved to shield him with their bodies alone, not having anything else to use.

The pain in his heart, the misery that was ripping through him, was worse than any Cruciatus Curse. It made the spasms lingering in his muscles feel like tickles. He huffed through the sobs that were threatening to take over, his terror mixing with the piercing pain of his guilt and grief.

"Take it easy," Remus whispered to him, "you've only been out a minute."

Harry inched his head up from the ground. His gaze immediately fell on the broken wand at his head, the two pieces of wood right in front of him, something silvery joining them. Left for him to see when he woke, a clear message.

Harry dropped his head down again, the weight of his defeat crushingly heavy.

"Everyone else made it out," Arthur whispered next. He was on Harry's right. He moved close, his face coming up to Harry's. Remus moved in close as well.

Closing his eyes, Harry leaned on those words. Hermione and Ron… they were safe. He hadn't failed them. It was something. Small, but it gave him the tether he needed to focus, pushing against the pain in his body and in his scar. It gave him just enough courage to raise his head and confirm the direness of his situation.

Slowly, he looked up, his neck straining with the effort. A few feet from them was a man standing guard. He had to arch his back to see the man's face and saw the long grey hair. It was enough for him to identify the Death Eater. Rookwood. He held two wands. One, Harry recognised, as the instrument that had been used to torture him over the last few days. The other had to belong to either Remus or Arthur.

His gaze then moved to the people gathered a little further ahead. When his eyes found Lord Voldemort, he wrung his hands desperately against the soft cloth that was restraining him. The pain in his scar peaked and he felt a blaze of anger rushing over his fear. He clung to his own mind, his own desperation. He couldn't afford to lose consciousness again, not when every second was vital. He was entirely at the mercy of the man who wanted to destroy him. Once again. Only this time, he wasn't alone. This time, it wasn't just his life on the line, his sanity and his secrets. Arthur and Remus were right there with him.

And it was all his fault.

"He wants to contain the security breach first." Remus said, his voice monotone. "Yaxley disapparated before you came to."

Harry gave a small nod, appreciating the information, though it didn't help much.

He glanced up ahead again, watching Voldemort pacing and he felt a stab in his scar. There was a sudden flash of red ahead. One of the figures ahead dropped to the ground like a stone. Their voices were muffled, indiscernible. Harry strained his hearing, but he could only hear what was immediately around him.

"He has your wand," Remus whispered, his voice low and quiet.

"What?" Harry's head snapped over to Remus's shadowed form at his side.

"He… showed me. I thought they had snapped it… when you were arrested."

Harry stared at the ground, wringing his wrists against the cloth binds. A wave of sickening fear swept through him, horrified at the thought that he would likely be murdered with his own wand. Not just him either. It was clear that him possessing it, bringing it with him, was intentional. It was a special torment just for him.

But it wasn't just that. A faint glimmer of inspiration blazed through his panicked, despairing thoughts. It could be hope. It could be madness. Whatever it was, it was all he had left.

"Brother wands..." He said aloud and then he snapped his gaze up, seeing Rookwood, and halted his tongue.

If I can somehow get my wand, I'll have the protection of the shared cores. I can stop his Avada Kedavra… but how…?

He closed his eyes, summoning up all the strength he had left. Whatever he could do about his wand, he wasn't going to be able to do anything face down in the dirt. Harry twisted around, pushing his knees up under him. He stilled when his movements caused a trigger of spasms down his back. The pain dazed him for a moment.

Arthur suddenly gave a gasp. Harry turned his head to him, his chin scraping on the dirt as he did.

"My...signal amulet. It's heating up." He straightened, meeting Remus's eyes over Harry.

"Kingsley?" Remus was quiet.

"Must be."

"Wha...what does that mean?" Harry mumbled.

"I… don't know," Arthur lowered himself back down to Harry. "It could mean that they're coming back or…"

"Leaving."

Harry closed his eyes.

"They might not get here in time," he said quietly, glancing up to Rookwood. He noticed that the Death Eater stood close enough to be able to hear them whispering, but did nothing to stop them.

He's letting us speak… but why?

He tested his restraints again, feeling the cloth with his fingers and pulled. They were tight, but there was some movement, a little slack. He had no idea why he'd been bound with cloth and not rope, but he was distinctly relieved to not have his wrists reduced to an even worse state than what they were currently in. He could feel the cloth sticking to his wrists where they were bloodied. He edged himself upright, eyes still closed as he lifted himself up and settled back into a sitting position. He twitched as his muscles punished him for moving, his nerve endings ruined from the full cruciatus curse he endured.

He opened his eyes, finding Rookwood watching him, watching them, twirling his wand threateningly as his black eyes ranged over them.

"Brave until the end," Rookwood remarked under his breath. Harry just glared at him, his hands clenching into fists, but he didn't dare rise to the bait. Rookwood knew exactly how to get a rise out of him. Before when it was just him who paid for his insolence, Harry didn't hesitate. He took the punishment and suffered for his defiance. Now there were others who would suffer for it. Harry knew that he was moments away from watching them die. He didn't want it to happen because of something he said, some wild moment of recklessness. It was bad enough that they were there because of him in the first place.

"Does he know yet? That you're the one that failed him?" Remus said instead. "Harry got out of the Row because you messed up, not Yaxley."

Rookwood turned to look at him, those intense dark eyes finding him. Harry wrenched his wrists, struggling to get himself loose. His breaths were hot, desperate, as he glanced at Remus, terrified.

"Indeed… I am very aware." A cold, quiet voice replied. Harry's hairs stood on end. His breath caught in his throat and he slowly turned his head from Remus.

Rookwood turned, his face impassive as Voldemort approached. He moved with a languid fluidity, similar to the miasmic form he used to travel at great speeds. The form that Harry had never seen another wizard take. Voldemort had transcended the levels of magic known to most, his power unrivalled. As he neared, Harry could feel that power throbbing from him, triggering a feeling of immense dread. His terror was rising, threatening to obliterate what was left of his control.

"My Lord…" Rookwood's voice trailed off, betraying nerves.

"You are among my longest serving Death Eaters, Augustus, and you have served me loyally, even enduring Azkaban for thirteen long years, never renouncing me for your freedom, staying true to our cause and your convictions. Your loyalty...is not in doubt. And yet… the werewolf speaks true. You have failed me."

He stopped next to Rookwood, slowly turning to face him.

"You are fortunate, so very fortunate, that I deemed it necessary to collect the boy myself. Had I not… he would have slipped through your fingers. It is only my arrival that prevented his escape."

"I… was mistaken, my lord. I apologise." Rookwood then sunk down to his knees. "It is not enough to redeem myself in light of my failure to deliver the boy to you in the way I promised, but I have secured prisoners of value from the boy's rescue party." He held up the wand in his left hand. "Members of the Order of the Phoenix."

"I believe… that the force that infiltrated and breached the Ministry numbered at least a dozen." Harry's scar pulsed with pain. The slashed pupils in Voldemort's deep red eyes were dilated in the dark, making them appear less cat-like. He turned them over to where Remus was leaning into Harry's side. "I count… two."

"They escaped before we arrived. A tactical retreat, my lord," a voice offered up at his back, coming from one of the Death Eaters, still masked.

"So it does seem," Voldemort agreed, "they left before reinforcements could close in on them. Abandoning the mission in order to protect themselves from capture. Tactical indeed. And yet, their mission was very nearly successful. I admit, I never expected it possible to siege the Ministry from underneath. It is quite ingenious and this…" He strode from Rookwood to the wall, resting his hand against the earth. "Transfiguring a tunnel without being detected, right under the institution of magical governance. It appears that the wizards and witches among what's left of Dumbledore's Order are formidable. Talents that would be better placed serving my cause, not working against it."

He turned his red eyes now onto his captives. Harry did not dare meet his stare.

Kingsley… if you're going to show up, now is the time.

"You, werewolf, will always be Dumbledore's faithful dog. It is too late for you." Harry huffed out a pained sigh, the guilt and grief stabbing into his chest.

He's going to kill Remus. My dad's friend is going to die because of me. He'll never get the chance to be a father, because of me. All because I got arrested… because they dared to help me and got caught in the trap.

"You…" Voldemort paced now towards Arthur, "I do not know. Speak - introduce yourself to Lord Voldemort."

Arthur just turned his face away.

"Defiance? Unwise." He stared down at him. Harry shuddered as the pain in his scar intensified to the point he couldn't hide it. He gasped, doubling over, his eye spasming against the ferocity of the pain.

Voldemort snapped a hand up to his Death Eaters.

"Separate them."

Harry jerked around desperately, his heart racing. Remus met his terrified look with his own as two of the still masked Death Eaters moved past Voldemort, heading towards them.

"No." Harry cried out as Arthur was heaved up onto his feet and moved towards Voldemort. Remus was next. He thrashed against his restraints. Harry moved to get up, but he stumbled, landing hard on his knee. Wretchedly, he watched as they were moved away from him. Remus was pushed down against the wall, only a few feet away but it felt like a mile. Arthur was pushed to his knees in front of Voldemort.

"Rookwood," Voldemort glanced at the man still on his knees. "Guard the boy."

Harry scrambled on his knees, panting in pain, his despair eating him alive. He fought to free his hands, his eyes fixed on his wand, the lifeline, the only one left. He barely noticed Rookwood rising and sliding up behind him. Not until his hands grabbed Harry around the forearms and pulled him back, dragging him on his knees.

"No!" His voice pitched up out of fear, terrified. He reached a point, entering a state of fear and panic unlike anything he'd experienced before. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand to see another person die for him. He was breaking.

"You will answer me or I will take the answers from you," Voldemort's voice was quiet, almost soft, as he stooped to be eye-level with Arthur. He brought Harry's wand up to his face.

"Stop… you have what you want. You have me." Harry burst out, leaning away from Rookwood at his back. He kept his gaze fixed on his wand.

"Patience, Harry, I'll come to you in a moment."

Voldemort's eyes never left Arthur's face. His pupils enlarged as he stared, nostrils flaring as he breathed, as he held Arthur in his gaze.

"Arthur Weasley." Arthur then gasped, bobbing his head, defeated.

"Weasley?" Voldemort repeated the name slowly, thoughtfully. "I had been willing to give blood traitors a chance to redeem themselves under the new regime - forsake their unsavoury practices and return to the fold. You chose your side, it seems," he straightened, his robes swirling around him. "It is… unfortunate. Who has his wand?"

"I do, my lord." The husky-voiced Death Eater stepped forward, Mulciber. He approached his master, handing him the wand that he had taken from Arthur. Voldemort lazily held his hand out and the Death Eater placed it in his waiting palm.

"By choosing the boy, siding yourself and your family with what he stands for - defiance, you will share in his fate." He palmed Harry's wand, then pinched the end of Arthur's wand, gripping it between both hands. There was a sharp snap as he broke the wand into two. He threw the pieces down at Arthur's knees.

"Rosier, return to the manor. I want everything to be prepared for our arrival. See to it that the chamber is ready."

"Yes, my lord."

Manor? What manor? Malfoy Manor?

It explained where he had been seeing during his brief visits into Voldemort's mind, the exquisite decor and wealth on display.

Chamber? Not prison or cage? Where is he taking me? What are the plans Snape mentioned? What… is he going to do to me? Torture me, render me insane… then kill me?

The Death Eater disapparated in a twist of darkness. Now it was just him, Remus, Arthur, Voldemort, Rookwood and two other Death Eaters. The tension was unbearable now. Sweat was dripping down his back, his mouth dry from panic. He kept his wand in his sights at all times. Rookwood let him go, moving around to his side. Harry risked a quick glance, seeing the wand at the left of his face, a threat.

This isn't happening. This can't be happening.

His senses were telling him that it was. This was real. The pain flickering in his scar was real. The thundering of his heart, the touch of the compacted dirt under his knees, the sound of his blood rushing through his body, his hot breath panting out his mouth as his nose was blocked with dried blood - all were real.

A jolt went down his back, his magic warning him, as Lord Voldemort turned his flat face towards him. He moved his gaze, meeting those red eyes. At once, it cracked through his mind. A memory of green light. Everything went still, quiet, just like it had when he felt him apparate at his side, closing the trap. Then it had been fear that held him fast, freezing his body. Now it was something different. It lurched into being. Hatred beyond sense.

Not just hatred, but anger. Anger at how unfair it all was. What did he do to deserve this? He only had fifteen months of his life that resembled any sort of normality, of a being in a loving family, before that was all torn apart. All because of a prophecy, a half-heard prophecy that painted a target on him that he could never run away from. All because the most powerful wizard in existence heard that he was the only one with the power to defeat him.

He never had a real childhood. All he had known was loneliness. Isolation. Fear. He grew up being hated, despised, and he didn't even know why. He went through that, all that, because his family, the people that loved him so much, had been murdered.

By the wizard standing right in front of him.

"You…" his voice was low as it growled out of his throat. His lips were twitching. "You have taken EVERYTHING FROM ME!"

He screamed out his rage. His voice echoed around the tunnel. His magic ebbed from him, fighting for release. Tears flushed his vision. His hatred and pain were so intense.

"I have not taken everything," he said, his voice so quiet in the wake of Harry's furious scream. "Not yet."

"Just kill me and be done with it, you coward." His voice rasped into parseltongue on the last word. Voldemort's pupils dilated with shock as Harry spoke to him in the language of his ancestors, a language that Harry shouldn't be able to speak. Voldemort took a step towards him. Harry had no idea that everyone was staring at him in shock. He hadn't realised that he'd spoken in parseltongue. Harry just stared into his eyes, not caring that his mind was completely open, not caring anymore about anything. His hatred, his loss, his pain, his guilt, it all took him completely over.

"I will kill you, Harry Potter. I will end everything you are and everything you ever could be, but only when you are reduced to a wisp of existence, spirit and body broken, like I was when my curse rebounded sixteen years ago on that fateful Halloween night."

Voldemort took another step towards him. He, too, now spoke in the rasping, hissing language of serpents, the tongue of Slytherin's descendants and familiars.

"I will take back the power that you unknowingly stole from me. I will crush your mind, obliterate any remnants of hope flickering up out of your eyes."

All the while, as he neared, he brought the wand closer.

"But first, I will take from you the surrogate fathers that have fallen in line beside you. You appear to collect them. They, like all the others that stand with you, will fall. Only this time, it will be your own wand that delivers their deaths."

The blow landed. Harry doubled over, unable to stand it, the words driving into him like a dagger to the chest. Right into his heart.

"I intended to do this later, in much more… adequate surroundings, but as you are so hasty to begin your descent, I will oblige."

Harry tilted his head upwards, his tears shaking loose from his eyes as he watched Voldemort turn towards Remus. Harry's eyes sought him out immediately. Their stares locked. Remus gave him a resigned, accepting look, as he saw his own death approaching. He ceased his struggles, facing his death with courage. His eyes brightened as he looked at Harry, warming with pride. Love.

He turned his gaze from Remus, moving to his wand, to the instrument of choice. Harry heard the word starting with a sonorous 'ah' and it was enough for his magic to kick in, responding to his tremendous need. He had to stop this from happening. Nothing else mattered.

"Avada…"

With a furious wrench, he burst his right hand free from his binds, slipping loose with a sudden show of force. He shot his hand out, eyes blazing hot, as he stared at his wand.

"Accio wand!"

Voldemort's arm jerked around, his aim awry, as Harry's wandless cast pulled him off unbalance. Something shot towards Harry, blindingly fast. It slapped into his hand, just as he staggered upright, fuelled by his desperate need to stop the murder from taking place.

Golden light blasted into him and threw him clear off his feet. He was lost in a blaze of intense heat, suddenly in motion, his hand burning as he gripped a wand that felt like he'd snatched a red-hot poker from a burning hearth. He crashed down hard on his back, flecks of blood leaving him as he coughed out all the air in his lungs.

"My lord!"

"The wand. He has the wand!"

"HARRY! RUN!"

The burning golden light filled Harry's vision as he lay on his back, coughing. It seeped away, returning him to the gloom of the tunnel. He glanced at his hand, now armed, seeing the golden flames engulfing the wand completely. The same fire that he saw when his wand protected him against Voldemort as he tried to kill him a month ago. Fire that was burning away his skin, eating into his palm. His scream of pain was contained behind his clenched teeth.

Energy surged through his hand, down his arm, as magic returned to him. He was moving, rising to his feet, magic strengthening him where his body was failing. He pushed aside the agony in his hand, letting the pain give him focus. He stepped forwards, raising his head. His scar was sending him a clear warning, feeling as red-hot as the wand he held.

Voldemort squared up to him, facing him. Harry saw Rookwood in the corner of his eye, saw the Death Eaters responding too late to Harry being suddenly armed, suddenly extremely angry. He had less than seconds until the retribution of his actions came for him in a blaze of green light. He went instinctively to cast his signature spell, but for once, he gave a second to reconsider as he caught Remus's form in the edge of his vision.

The time for disarming is over.

He fixed Lord Voldemort in his sights, his hatred, his pain and unfathomable rage erupting. He was beyond reason, beyond sense, wanting only to end it, to take his vengeance. He wasn't going to run, not while he had this chance. He gripped the wand in his hand, snarl pulling his lip back from his gritted teeth.

For a moment, the pair of them stared at one another, a split second. Then they both acted, their voices raised in unison. Harry's voice was a low growl of passionate fury, full of pain and rage. Lord Voldemort's high, cold shriek was piercing, drowning Harry's out. But they said the same two words.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The ground under Harry's feet lurched and tilted, caught in a sudden twist of vertigo as he cast the most powerful spell he'd ever cast. He dug his feet into the ground, sending everything down his wand, all his pain, all his anger. He wanted to kill. He had to kill. The curse erupted from him, a deep green bolt of light.

At the same time, he saw an answering flash ahead of him. While he was casting to kill, so was Voldemort screaming his curse to kill him. Harry's eyes widened, seeing his own death rushing for him, his ears ringing with the scream that he'd not heard mingled with his own.

The brilliant blaze of green light met his deep green curse and the two beams of light connected with a flash of gold.

Harry's arm trembled as the wands connected. Once again - saved by the shared cores. Only he wasn't the only one. Their shared cores also saved Voldemort from him.

"Harry…"

"My lord!"

"NO! Leave him! He is mine!"

The beam of light brightened, green turning gold as the connection in the centre spread towards him. Phoenix song filled the tunnel, Priori Incantatem now initiated. Harry's arm jerked upwards as Voldemort moved to sever the connection.

"Harry!" A new voice entered the fray. Harry jumped, twisting around as Kingsley appeared at his side, removing Harry's own invisibility cloak.

"Kingsley," Harry gasped, then cried out as his arm jerked upwards again, "you… came back."

"It's just me."

"It's more...ah… than we had," Harry winced, knees shaking as he struggled with all the strength he had to keep the connection alive.

Ahead, Rookwood spotted Kingsley, shouting out. But then Remus burst up from his position behind him, pushing him down to the ground.

"I am going to kill you for this, Harry Potter!" Voldemort's scream didn't just pierce his ears, but his mind as well. Harry gasped as his scar erupted, the pain burning through his concentration.

"I can't… hold this much longer."

Kingsley stepped in front of him, moving to protect and give him cover so he could flee. Harry's gaze moved past the man currently trying to kill him, seeking out Remus's writhing form, then over to Arthur, pinned down against the wall by the other Death Eaters.

"Ge...get to the others. Use the cloak." Harry forced out, his vision blurring as the pain started to take over. "I can't run. This is the only thing… stopping him… killing me."

Kingsley glanced over his shoulder, his eyes wide. He gave Harry an appraising look, then threw the cloak over himself. Harry returned his focus to his personal battle. He forced himself to step forwards, hold his arm steady, and keep focused. He wished he had his parents' spectres to encourage him, instead he just had his own determination. This was pure survival now. Spells were going off as Kingsley got to work.

"Deal with this insurgence at once!"

It's working! It's actually working!

A flicker of hope made it through Harry's pain and desperation. His arm jerked again, the golden beam whipping upwards as Voldemort went to sever it, break the connection and end Harry's life. Harry kept his arm up, moving with Voldemort, keeping the beam in place, maintaining his spell with everything he had.

"How dare you wield my wand?"

Voldemort's words made it through Harry's intense concentration. It distracted him enough to check the wand in his hand, the wand that burned him when he caught it. It was pale and long, made from yew. Not holly.

It wasn't his wand.

It was Voldemort's wand.

Harry's jaw dropped open as horror swept through him and, with it, his desire to kill. His spell was cancelled immediately. He sunk down to his knees, curling in on himself. His timing saved his life as a blaze of green light rushed over his head, missing by inches.

And he screamed. He shattered apart, revulsion wiping out everything as he realised what he had done. He used the weapon that had killed his parents. He had cast the same curse that had killed them with that very wand. The magic that triggered when he caught it had scalded his skin, the heat so intense. The wood was stuck to his skin where it had cauterised.

He pressed his face into the ground, shaking with his screams as he let loose. Unable to do anything else, his horror and agony too much. Shouts snagged in his ears, light blazed around him. Death was coming for him. But he couldn't go on. Not now. Not after what he had just done.

"Harry!" Arthur rushed for him, grabbing him and roughly pulling him up to his feet. He staggered, numb, not fighting back.

"It's… not my wand," Harry mumbled as he was jostled around and made to run. Everything was a blur now. His shocked mind picked up fragments, moving on instinct and fumes.

"I know," Arthur said simply. Then the Invisibility Cloak covered them both.

"You CANNOT escape ME!" The voice slammed into Harry's head and he shuddered back into himself, snapping out of his shock. He turned, finding himself no longer standing alone, but with three men, and across from them was Voldemort.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry shifted around, instincts kicking in, pulling Arthur with him as another killing curse missed. Then he staggered back, losing his footing as he backed into the maintenance room at the end of the tunnel. The temperature changed abruptly, feeling much cooler.

Kingsley and Remus let loose blasting hexes and reductor curses, their combined spells sending out a catastrophic explosion. The ground shuddered with the force as they went to collapse the tunnel and hold Voldemort back. Remus leapt down, hands reaching out, searching for Harry and Arthur. There was a tremendous crash, as rock slammed down, the tunnel beginning to collapse.

"We're here," Arthur said. Remus's hands found Harry, pulling him around. He peered through the crumbling tunnel, seeing the furious, blazing red eyes of Lord Voldemort, fixing upon him, pupils constricting. He felt the burn in his scar peak then as Voldemort's face was obscured by black smoke, his form changing.

"Go! Remus! Take Harry NOW!"

Arthur ripped off the cloak, moving with Kingsley.

"He snapped my wand."

"I'll disapparate us. Remus, you take Harry."

Harry saw the swirling darkness enter the room, rushing through the collapsing tunnel to find them. Harry immediately moved up to Remus, grabbing his arm with his hand. Not hesitating for a second, Remus turned, pulling them both into disapparation. Harry closed his eyes, entering the suffocating darkness, feeling every fibre of his body being squeezed and constricted, his heart thudding in his ears, his body shaking with the force of his life's beat. He willed himself to make it through his time. He wished for it with everything he had left.

Make it through, make it to safety… make to freedom.

The sudden emergence had him stumbling out of Remus's grip and falling at once to his knees. His hands splashed on the ground, feeling wet grass, rain. Cold air, crisp with the early autumn chill. A resounding crack at his back told him that Arthur and Kingsley were not far behind. Nausea from the apparition dropped him down to his elbows as he heaved in great lungfuls of air.

His scar was burning.

You cannot escape me…

The pain mounted as the presence burst through and he crashed down into the grass, arms giving away. It seared through him as if his very thoughts were on fire. He screwed his eyes shut, tensing every muscle. His body was caught between two wills - his own and the invading presence, the coiling vice-like presence that strangled his mind with fire and pain.

Rain soaked him already, cloth sticking to his skin. Warm hands were touching his back as someone went to help him up, but he was rigid, muscles locked.

"Merlin, he's attacking him…" A shocked, terrified voice sounded behind him.

I will find you.

"Get out of my head!" Harry cried out, straining, trying to move his body. He was aware of everything happening around him but he couldn't react, the presence preventing him, trying to take control as it had done before. But now he was so tired, so very tired. He wanted so badly to give in, to stop resisting.

I will kill them all. The werewolf, the blood traitors… your mudblood girl…

"No…" he gasped, his voice starting to throttle in his throat as moans of pain escaped him. Thundering footsteps thudded the ground near him, voices calling in alarm and fear.

"Give them some space, people," someone said in the distance.

He was being gathered into someone's arms, lifted from the wet, cold grass.

"Come on, Little Prongs, push him out," a soft voice murmured as a head moved next to his as he was held tightly against someone's chest. Only one person could call him that. His heart ached at it.

I will find you…

The coils retreated as if scolded. Immediately, he brought his arms up and returned the embrace. He dropped the wand that had been branded into his hand, skin tearing as it came loose from the burn. His fingers gripped Remus's robes, proving that he was there.

"I can't… lose you," Harry gasped out.

"I'm right here," came a shaky reply, hushed with emotion. The presence recoiled completely as Harry expelled a sob, leaning into the embrace of his dad's last friend, the last connection he had. He opened his eyes, peering through rain-flecked glasses, seeing a group of rain-soaked people in black robes, green grass, and a sky… freedom.

"He's gone," he sobbed, "I… I'm free."

Free.

The word left him dizzy and finally, for the first time in four days, he relaxed, arms dropping down. Remus held him as the tension left his body. With it went the last of his strength. His consciousness was dwindling. Remus eased his grip. Harry stared at his haggard face, the rain dripping off his hair. His hazel eyes were red-rimmed, full of tears. He brushed Harry's hair from his face, looking down at him.

"You did it, Harry… you did it." Someone dropped down near them, splashing in the water-logged grass. Harry looked over, his vision swimming. The faint was close, but he hung on.

"We're here, Harry," Hermione said. He gasped in relief at her voice. He was fading fast. Slipping in and out, his vision unfocusing. Her face swam in front of his and he saw her brown eyes were crinkled in the corners.

"Hermione," he mumbled her name, blinking slowly, trying to focus on her. He reached out, taking in her face, framed with sodden hair, her eyes watching him, tears curling down her cheeks as she took his hand, her fingers cold against his sore, broken skin. As her fingers touched his ruined hand, the raw, bleeding burn slashed across his palm seared with agony. With the pain came the revulsion and shock.

"Is it… here?" His voice was barely a whisper, words hot and cumbersome as they passed his numb lips. "The...wand."

"Yes. Right here."

"No...I don't… want to see it." The anguish tore through him, bringing him closer to the collapse, darkness now edging into his vision. "That I touched it… used it… I can't..."

"I understand… we'll keep it hidden."

"Tha… thank you," Harry turned his face up, blinking as rain splashed on his face. He licked his lips, tasting it, the moisture, the freedom, then his eyes rolled back and he passed out, his energy completely spent. He could finally stop fighting and rest.

AN: Finally got there!

You'll be pleased to hear that there will be a lot less angst moving on as we go into reset and recovery over the next few chapters. Pace will slow down and we go into lighter themes - yay! There will be one more chapter to conclude things, then we head into Part Two - Exile.

I had this idea for ages about what would happen if Harry and Voldemort swapped wands. I thought that, as wands kinda have behaviours like 'springy' 'unyielding' etc, they might influence the wielder in some way. So when Harry takes Voldemort's wand, he's more inclined to go for the killing blow, despite knowing that it'll probably not work. Also, he's pretty pissed off.

When he notices that he summoned the wrong wand, his remorse is at odds with the wand so the spell cancels. I imagined that, without his spell now connecting Voldemort's AK, it would head for him so he flukes out of death a bit there. Plot armour... I know.

Will explain it more later, but the golden flash is meant to be Voldemort's wand doing the reverse of what Harry's wand did during the flight from Privet Drive. It regurgitated Harry's magic back at him.

Also, I know Voldemort's not brought along the best Death Eaters for the job. They were literally the only ones around at the time. I pictured that it might take a while for all the Death Eaters to be called at once, so Voldemort sent who was around at the time to contain the situation, while he went for the more pressing issue. The Malfoys and Bella are in disfavour at present, so they didn't go. Perhaps they will be trusted more in the future? Now that Harry got away from him, he is going to be pretty mad so will be interesting to share what he does about it.

Anyway, thanks for reading and see you for the aftermath chapter.