((Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I making money off of this story. This is what I believe the final chapters of the eight book is going to be, if J. K. Rowling decides to stop being a millionaire and actually thinks about what the story needs to be, rather than what she wants it to be.)) ((And a shout-out goes to Yami No Tsuki. for her help in creating this plot line / story!))

"What are you thinking of?"

"Hm?" Harry looked up from where his eyes had zoned out on the carpet, and saw Hermonie standing in the doorway in a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She evidently had just taken a shower, as her hair was still sopping wet, even though it was tied back loosely. "Oh, trying to make sense of this dream I had."

"What happened in it?" Hermonie walked over to his unmade bed and sat on it. They were currently staying in a Muggle hotel, just for this weekend, as they tried to figure out where Voldemort was hiding.

"I don't remember," he lied. "I just remembered someone -or something- saying that this, all of this, is going to end where it all began again.

Hermonie frowned, and brushed a lock of wet hair out of her eyes. "So no idea of who said it?"

"Nope," he lied again. Truthfully, he remembered the whole dream and what happened in it. Harry also knew what he had to do, but he couldn't figure out where. And he didn't want to think about it right now.

"Repeat it."

"It."

"Harry..."

He sighed. "It's going to end the way it all began again." Harry placed his socked feet on the edge of the bed. Hermonie made a face at the imaginary smell, and moved back as her mind whirled on. "Began again," she muttered. "What consitutes as beginning again?"

"Starting over?" Harry mused.

A long pause came from Hermonie before she said, "Unless it's life beginning again. Think about it."

"Huh?" Harry was confused...wait, he understood..."The graveyard..."

She smiled and nodded. "It's the only place I can think of."

It all clicked now. Of course it'll be at the graveyard. It made so much sense. "So where's Ron?"

"Shower." She saw, in Harry's eyes, that something wasn't right, and that he was hiding it as best he could. "Want me to tell him to hurry up?"

"Nah. We'll leave later." Harry crossed his arms over his chest and stared up at the ceiling.

"What else is bothing you?"

Harry looked back at her, tempted to tell her what he had to do to save them and the wizarding world. But he couldn't he could tell them anything, and that was what was killing him. "Nothing," he lied.

"When are we leaving?" Hermonie asked, getting off of his bed, glancing at the clock. It was barely ten now.

"Two-ish." She nodded as he looked back at the ceiling.

"On your way out, can you put the sign on my door? I'm going to try and get some sleep before we go."

"Sure." Hermonie knew for a fact that Harry hadn't been getting much sleep, and the little sleep he was getting was full of Voldemort nightmares. She squeezed his foot, "Don't let the bed bugs bite," she teased as she left.

Harry waited for another ten minutes after she closed the door to open his eyes. He knew what he needed to do.

--------

He was dreaming again. A while ago he had come to the realization that he could always tell when he was dreaming. It was bothersome, but he'd come to accept it.

This dream was different, though. It wasn't a usual nightmare where his mind merely replayed his more fatal mistakes, but it wasn't a Voldemort vision either. The area around him was dark, almost pitch black it it weren't for the silvery-gray fog swirling around him. Walking around, he quickly realized that he had no way of leaving; there was no difference anywhere in the fog.

He figured it didn't matter much as the fog started to take on a form. In a circle around him, little swirls of fog converged to form human-like shapes. Harry didn't want to look as the features solidified. He had a sinking feeling that he'd know who he'd see. He closed his eyes.

The feeling of someone touching him on his neck made him squeeze his eyes tighter together, but after the voice that he had only heard once filled his ears, he knew that he couldn't stay like this. "Harry..."

"Mom." Harry turned around and fell straight into her welcoming arms. At least in dreams she was still alive.

"Harry...we don't have that much time here..." Harry left her warm hug, looking around. Everyone was here, Sirius, his father, the caretaker of Little Hangleton, Professor Quirrel, Cedric...everyone that had been killed by Voldemort, or killed by someone that was working for him.

"Harry, Voldemort has another Horcrux. It's you."

Harry swung around and stared at Sirius. "I can't be. It's impossible..."

"No, it's not, Harry. He had just killed me and your mother, and he wanted to make sure that when it all came down to this, he had a means of staying alive."

Harry turned to face his dad as his mind processed what had just been said. "That means..."

"That both you and Voldemort must die at the same time, at where it all began again."

"But how? Is it possible?"

"Harry, it's the only way. Or otherwise the wizarding world is going to be plagued with fear, death, sadness, just like it was before you were able to defeat him the first time. Ever since then, there has been happiness." Sirius ran his hand through his god-son's hair, tears threatening. "You can do this. Trust me."

((This should be updated soon, if the muses cooperate.))