A/N: I didn't answer reviews from my readers this time around, because I reckoned you would rather I used the time to work on the chapter and get it out as soon as possible! But please believe that I not only read them, I deeply appreciated the time you took to ask questions and give me feedback. I live for your reviews!

On another note, my trip to Mexico was a blast. Me and the youth pastor of my church took a group of teenagers down there to work and to do a children's program. It was hard work and stressful, but it was wicked awesome to be directly on the beach! So, I'm back, with sunburnt nose and a twisted ankle, and every intention of finishing this story within a couple of weeks. You lot are amazing, and you've been waiting a long time. So, here is the next installment. I know it ends with a cliffhanger, but I had to stop there or the chapter would have gone on for another thirty pages and taken forever to get to you!

Chapter Twenty-One

His godson had just been fed, and was resting comfortably in his arms, fast asleep. His hair was currently a plain brown colour that they were guessing meant he was content, his parents were watching with prideful expressions, and he was almost a full day old. This was one of those rare, perfect moments in life, that could never be found the same way twice but would almost be remembered.

Sirius, still looking at Teddy, spoke very softly. "Do you remember the first time Lily let us hold Harry?"

"He threw up on you," Remus reminded him, his voice slightly muffled because he was laying beside his wife on their bed and he had turned his face into her neck, breathing deeply of her scent. She smelled a bit sour from sweat and breast milk, but he didn't mind. She was only moments from joining her newborn son in sleep.

"He always was a little difficult," Sirius mused, but he was smiling.

Remus felt his stomach twist. He was remembering his conversation with Harry this morning, and was still at war with himself as to whether he should tell Sirius about it. He wasn't sure if Harry had spoken out of fear or certainty, and he'd been gone before Remus could press him for more. Harry and Hermione had been gone long enough as it was. He was getting close to suggesting they go look for Harry. He knew Hermione would do her best to stay with Harry, but after what he'd said . . .

Someone was shouting downstairs. They heard the noise all the way from the third floor in the bedroom. Sirius immediately handed Teddy over to his no-longer-drowsy mother, and both he and Remus rushed downstairs to the study.

Minerva McGonagall's head was in the fireplace, but she was hardly recognisable. Her hair was escaping its tight bun, and her eyes were huge and panicked.

"Sirius," she barked out as soon as she saw him in the room.

"What is it?"

"It's Hogwarts," she said simply. "Get everyone here immediately."

"What's happening?"

"One of the Carrows spotted Harry and Hermione, and they called Voldemort. He's coming, and he's bringing everyone. He means to take Harry tonight. I've started evacuating the school, but I need help."

"Done," Sirius barked.

McGonagall disappeared. Sirius turned away from the fireplace toward Remus, and he felt his vision, his thoughts, his entire being narrowing down, coming to focus on a single point: Harry. He could not wrap his mind around the idea that he needed to make calls and visits and round up the Order. He had to get to Hogwarts, and he had to get to Harry.

"Remus," he choked out. "I can't— I have to find him—"

"I'll do it," Remus said decisively, putting his hand on Sirius' back, steadying him momentarily. "I'll get everyone."

"I don't mean to be— but he's my son . . ."

"I know. Go, Sirius."

Sirius embraced Remus painfully, slamming his arms around him. "Thank you," he muttered, and he ducked into the fire.

As soon as he was through, Remus made his first call, to the Burrow. Bill and his girlfriend Fleur were there, as well as Molly and Arthur, and Remus exacted a promise that they would call their other children to help before they went rushing off to the school. He saw how much it had cost them to make the promise in the pain on their faces. Two of their own children were in that school, and knowing those two, were likely to be fighting rather than evacuating.

Remus heard a noise behind him and looked up expecting to see Neil or Simon. Instead, of all people, it was Draco Malfoy standing there.

"I didn't think you were here," was all Remus could think to say.

"I came to check on the Polyjuice," Draco said distantly. "What's going on?"

"He's attacking Hogwarts," Remus said, his mind beginning to spin with feelings of unreality, like this couldn't actually be happening.

"Why?"

"Harry is there, apparently."

Draco's hands became fists. "There's going to be a fight?"

"McGonagall asked for reinforcements. She's trying to get the children out of the school."

Draco spun on his heel and ran up the stairs. Panicked, not knowing what the boy was planning to do, Remus ran up behind him. Draco had grabbed a large bag and was sweeping the bottles of finished potions off the shelves into it.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking these to the school," he muttered.

"What?"

"They'll need everything they can get."

Remus opened and closed his mouth a few times, then shook his head abruptly. "Take it to Hogsmeade. Don't go to the school unless you're going to fight."

Draco had no answer to that, pinching his lips together until they were nearly white, and Remus didn't have anything to say to the boy, so he left him gathering his potions and went back to his calls. Moody. And Shacklebolt. Oh, Merlin, he'd never get everyone together in time.

Upstairs, Tonks clutched her son close and wept in frustration, knowing she was no good in a fight right now. Her only thought was keeping her husband here with her. If she was stuck here, so was he.

Without thinking, he made his old office his destination, and dashed out with cold ash falling from his clothes in a flurry behind him. He ran as hard as he could. He had never been much of a runner, but tonight he ran with wings on his feet.

Until he saw Severus Snape, who was simply standing there, leaning against a stone wall and staring very hard at nothing. He had his right hand wrapped painfully tight around his left arm. He nearly tripped trying to stop in front of the man.

"Where is he?"

It was hardly a question so much as a threat, pushed out of heaving lungs and through a snarling mouth, posed by a man who was so overcome by his emotions that he was shaking. Severus didn't even consider the possibility of not answering.

"I don't know," he said, sounding altogether too calm. "He said he was going to hide. He said he was going to finish things tonight."

"It sounds as though he and Voldemort have the same plan."

"Yes," Severus agreed, his voice distant. The pain in his arm was so much that even he could not mask it now, and the conversation was sapping what little strength he had put into the task of not breaking down into screaming. His master seemed to know, somehow, that Potter had stood before him and that Severus had let him go. He massaged the Mark on his arm, cold sweat standing on his skin. In so many ways, things were drawing to a close. Severus tried to imagine what would come after this night, and could imagine nothing.

"Well?" Sirius growled, his hands quivering with the need to wrap themselves around the aloof man's throat and squeeze.

Severus abruptly released his grip on his arm, and stood up straight. His face was more than austere now, it was drawn away so that he hardly looked human. His dark eyes were pits of ice in his gaunt face.

"He's here."

And then he was. Voldemort, dressed in dark robes and with his red eyes glowing with an unholy anticipation, was striding along the corridor. How he'd gotten in, Sirius couldn't imagine, unless the Carrows had gotten past Minerva to open the door for him. Sirius nearly despaired. Most of the children were still here, and they'd never be able to stay out of the way once the fight began. He should have stayed back, should have done what was asked of him and brought fighters with him. But Harry . . .

"Sirius Black," Voldemort said with surprise, coming to a graceful halt only a few feet away. He grinned. "I thought to find only one of my enemies here tonight, but you will be pleasure to begin with."

Sirius gripped his wand, ready to fight, but believing he'd be dead without ever getting to say goodbye. But Severus had only to shift his feet to be standing in front of Sirius, facing the Dark Lord and hiding Sirius from his view.

"Severus?" Voldemort asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.

"What are you doing?" Sirius hissed.

Without so much as turning his head, Severus answered him. "I owe Potter a debt. I choose to pay it now."

"What?"

"Run, Black," he said in a dead voice. And while his master was still confused, still trying to grasp what was happening, Severus began to hurl spells at him, driving him back down the corridor while Sirius just gaped.

Luckily, Sirius recovered first. Without making any attempt to understand, he did as he was told and ran. Voldemort took another second or two before he began fighting back, and so it was that Sirius got away and the debt that Severus believed he had owed to Harry since the death of Albus Dumbledore was filled.

Severus saw the snake behind her master, that damned snake Nagini who had so tormented and frightened everyone, and he saw a blaze of white-hot anger in his vision. He concentrated all his efforts on the snake. Voldemort could not be killed, could not even really be touched, but the snake could. Severus used his own curse, the one that had gained such popularity. With Sectumsempra, he cut the hateful snake in two.

Voldemort cried out as though he himself were in pain. "Avada Kedavra!" he screamed, spraying spittle from his lips in his fury.

The green light struck Severus in the chest. He saw, for only a moment, soft waves of red hair. Then he saw nothing at all. And Voldemort deliberately used the robes of the dead traitor to wipe Nagini's blood from his shoes before he began his search for Harry Potter.

Draco was frantically trying to squeeze a few more potions into his bag, but it was full. He had no clear thoughts. He only knew that he wanted these to be at the fight, supplementing whatever was in the Hogwarts school stock. He had no idea if they would be used to treat Susan Bones or Belltrix Lestrange, nor did he want to know. But he wasn't going to sit here and wait to hear that it was all over, either. He wanted to, wanted it with every bit of cowardice in his heart, but somewhere along the way he'd come to see it as a bad thing. And ever since learning that he was indeed capable of doing something right, it was hard to pretend he couldn't.

When he turned around, the bag full and his pulse pounding in his ears, he was stopped. His cousin stood in the doorway, a snuffling bundle in her arms. She was wearing a dressing gown and her eyes were red from weeping, and she was turning the little bundle so that Draco could see the scrunched-up face peeping out of the blankets.

"You haven't seen him yet," she said quietly. "Teddy, this is your cousin, Draco. Draco, meet Teddy."

Draco stared at the little face, the strangely crossed eyes. It made him feel sorry for the infant, that he couldn't seem to find Draco, so he leaned over and put their faces close together.

"Hello," he whispered.

A bit of drool trailed over Teddy's lips and his hair turned turquoise. He backed away quickly, afraid the baby was going to explode or something. Dora laughed, for some reason.

"I think that means he likes you," she said.

"Oh."

She turned her eyes to the bag he was carrying. "You're going to help?"\

He shrugged. He didn't know what he was going to do.

Her face was hard with emotion, struggling against more tears. "He means to kill Harry, and I . . . I think Harry means to die."

"What?"

"We asked Harry to be Teddy's godfather, this morning. He said he couldn't. He said he didn't think he would be here. We think he's planning to die."

Draco's mind slammed through several walls of panic, and he came out the other side with a feeling of dislocation. His pulse still hammered, but he felt it only distantly. He wasn't thinking about any of the things that had happened to him since Harry had arrived in England. He wasn't thinking about the fact that Harry was literally the only friend he had at this point, the only person who was really on his side, the person who had given him some semblance of dignity in the wake of his defection. All of that was true, but Draco latched on to the only clear thought he had.

"No he bloody well isn't," he growled. "He has a letter to write."

He pushed past Dora and Teddy and rushed out of the house and Apparated to the Hog's Head.

Dora carried Teddy downstairs, and waited until Remus finished speaking with Hestia Jones, then cleared her throat.

"You can't go," she said softly.

He spun around and stared at her. "Not go . . ." he sputtered. "Everyone's gone to help! Neil and Jeremy and Addison went! I can't stay here!"

She lifted Teddy up onto her shoulder, cradling his head and shushing him as he started to cry. "You know I'm too weak to go to battle right now," she said, struggling to keep her voice under control. "But Remus, if you go . . . I need you to stay here with me. To sit on me and keep me from going there. If you go, I go. Do you understand? I won't be able to help it."

"Dora, I—" He cut off helplessly, running his hands through his hair in frustration, making the gray-streaked locks stand on end.

She carefully passed his son to him. "He needs you to stay here."

"But he's why I have to go," Remus said in desperation, even though he was taking Teddy and cradling him close. "Don't you see that? How can I raise him, after I stayed here and let everyone else risk their lives?"

"We need you," she maintained, her voice strong. "You're doing your part already."

"This isn't . . ."

He trailed off when she drew her wand from the pocket of her dressing gown. She conjured her Patronus form and used it to send a message to Minerva.

"When the children are out of the school, send them to Grimmauld Place. Remus and I will take care of them and get them safely home."

Once the message had galloped away, she fixed him with a long gaze. "Will that be enough?"

He nodded dumbly. "I love you," he said hoarsely, jiggling Teddy in his arms to keep him quiet.

She smiled grimly, and went upstairs to get dressed.

He ran so much faster than she did, but she had no chance to fall behind because his hand was gripping her so tightly that she was forced to run at his pace. She didn't make it far until she was gasping for air, feeling light-headed, and close to bursting into tears because she knew she had to keep going. He noticed her struggling, and cast a strange charm on her, one she didn't even understand the incantation for. He shot it at her without breaking his stride in the least, or bothering to explain that it was a really unique spell he'd learned in Japan that he couldn't translate but called the Hummingbird Charm.

She suddenly felt as if they were not running fast enough. As if her legs could carry her into a blur of motion and she could dart from staircase to staircase without ever touching the ground. However, since she didn't know where they were going, she contented herself with running beside him, marveling at the feeling of her own speed. She was still gasping for air, but her legs weren't burning anymore.

She didn't ask where they were going. She trusted him. She'd trusted him all along.

He led her to the seventh floor, to the place where the entrance to the Room of Requirement would appear. But he didn't seem to be trying to rejoin the other students there. He was dancing with impatience, muttering,

"Need a place to hide, need a place to hide."

Finally, a door appeared, and he yanked her through it. He slammed the door, leaned on it, and sighed deeply. He paused to catch his own breath.

"Harry . . . where are we?"

Harry joined her in looking around in awe. The room was vast, and full of junk. It contained any manner of things, from the curious to the commonplace. There seemed to be rather a large number of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes lying about, a couple of wands, and a lot of books and magazines that seemed to be pornographic in theme. Silently, they began to wander through the maze of junk.

"What is this place?" Hermione asked.

Harry ran his hand through the dust on a broken end-table, which coughed at him moodily but didn't appear to be harmful anymore. "The place ugly things go to die," he smirked, but his face quickly became serious again. "It's a room for hidden things. Like us."

Hermione shuddered, and stopped walking. "Harry . . . he's here. He's probably looking for us right now. What if he's killing people?"

"I won't let him," Harry said softly. "But I just needed . . . a moment. Just one moment with you, first." He shrugged, and angry tears burned at his eyes. "Because I'm terribly selfish, after all. Other people can die, so long as I get to say goodbye to you."

"Harry, there has to be another way," she said desperately. "Don't do this. Don't start thinking you have to stand in front of Voldemort just to find out where the last Horcrux is."

"No," he muttered, a strange little smile on his lips, "I don't have to stand in front of him to know that much."

"What do you mean?"

"Hermione, we've got to find that diadem. And . . . it's okay with me if you're the one to destroy it. This isn't prophecy, and it's not because I'm the Boy Who Lived. I'm destroying Horcruxes because I chose to, and the universe won't split if you take over for me."

Hermione was still certain that she'd be able to figure out a solution to the nonsense he was saying, still certain that she'd figure out some way to do this that didn't involve her lover standing before the most dangerous man she knew of. But his bleak voice, and the way he grimaced and turned away from her . . . it hurt too badly. She collapsed against a cabinet, crying. He had given up, and she didn't know how to help him.

Harry turned away from her, his heart shattered. She knew, and he knew she knew, but she hadn't really admitted it to herself yet, and he didn't want to have to be the one to say it. He cursed, but only in his head, and he idly picked up a tiara, musing about the one he still needed to find. Then the weight of the object in his hands slammed into him, and his knees wobbled.

"Merlin's beard," he heard himself mutter as his legs gave out and he fell gracelessly to sit on the floor. He held the tiara in his hands gently, almost afraid to speak aloud what he'd just found, for fear it wasn't true. "Hermione . . ."

She seemed to realize it was serious, and she righted herself and wiped her eyes. "What?"

He held the object mutely. He just looked at her.

"So what? It's a— but Harry, don't be ridiculous. That's not . . . it is?"

"I told you. I can feel them. This doesn't feel normal. It feels heavy, and sort of sticky, and . . . well, it looks like the one on the statue that Luna showed us."

Hermione didn't take it from him, she only laid her hands over it while he cradled it on his upraised palms. "It does. It feels weird."

"So Voldemort decided to hide it at the school," he said, almost laughing. "I can't believe it's this easy. But for Merlin's sake, it's about time we got a break, so I won't argue. Do we have basilisk venom?" he asked.

Hermione nearly giggled with hysteria, but she fought it off. "Yes. I've been keeping one in my pocket since the beginning."

"Oh, yeah," he whispered. "Get it out."

She did. They found a small box that had likely been hidden because of the curse placed on it, but which Harry detected and broke immediately. They placed the diadem inside the box. Harry poured the venom over the diadem, and put the lid on. Hermione cast a spell to seal the lid on, and they shook the box, making sure venom coated every inch of the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw. Harry held the box still, waited a moment, and nodded.

"It's done," he said.

Hermione grinned and launched herself into his arms, making him drop the box. He gathered her up in his arms, but he wasn't showing the enthusiasm she was.

"Harry, we've done it! Don't you realize? We already know where the snake is, so we're ready! We can get everyone together to help us, and we'll have a huge number of people to take Voldemort down!"

Harry grimaced at her.

"Harry?"

"Hermione . . . don't. Please. Just stop."

She froze in place.

"I wish I could smile, but you know, Hermione, you know. Nagini's not the only one. We both know it, and we've known it for ages. I saw it in you, when you first realized, and even though we never spoke of it we both have known all along."

"Harry, don't."

He sat down again, and tried to tug her down with him, but she refused. She stood above him, her fists clenched in anger and her head shaking with denial.

"You aren't a Horcrux. We've never determined . . ."

She trailed off at his look of despair. She kicked the box, its contents harmless now, and shrieked.

"You aren't!"

Harry had tried so hard to keep it together, but now he began to cry. They had come so far together, and he'd hoped it wouldn't be like this. He'd hoped she'd come to terms with it before now.

But that, it seemed, was all it took for her. At the sight of his tears, she went to her knees and embraced him, laying her hand on his head and breathing deeply.

"Harry. Harry, shh. I'm sorry."

"I'm sure we're both feeling a bit sorry right now."

"We shouldn't have left this so late, I suppose," she whispered. "We should have talked about it."

"We were too busy trying to pretend it wasn't true."

"I think we did well at it."

He shook his head, even though he was leaning it on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have. It wasn't fair to you."

Hermione's mouth twisted in a bitter smile. "I like to think I can make my own decisions. And I did decide, after the robbery at Gringotts. I didn't know how much longer we'd have together, but I knew I wouldn't let it end unfinished. We've loved each other too much to have it end without allowing it to be complete."

Harry sobbed. "I hate this. I hate the fact that I'm walking away from yet another thing I shouldn't have started."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I always start things, with all those implied promises, and then I walk away. I've been doing it my whole life, and I should have realized that I loved you too much to do it to you."

"Harry, you didn't promise me anything."

"It was more of a promise to myself," he muttered. "What I started with you was different. It was one that was never supposed to end at all."

"I wish it wouldn't."

"Me, too," he whispered, then he pushed away from her. "We . . . I, can't stay here any longer. I have to finish this, before anyone else gets hurt."

She stood up with him. She felt heavy. Very, very heavy. She was moving in slow motion, none of her limbs seemed to work right. It wasn't coming down off the charm he'd cast on her, either. It was her body reacting to the way her mind had come to crashing halt. It was over. Ten minutes ago, she'd been pretending there was no end in sight, and now it was over. Harry was going to walk from this room straight into the arms of death. There was no way to pretend anymore.

"What is your plan?" she asked, her voice sounding hollow in her ears.

"To go straight to him. To let him kill me. Once he's mortal, someone should be able to overcome him."

"So this is . . . this is it?"

He shook his head. "I have a few things to say," he whispered. "Hermione . . . can you deliver some messages for me? Please?"

"Anything, my love," she whispered, taking his hands in her own, though they were shaking, so she could kiss the hands she loved so much.

"These are . . . my god, these are the last words I'm ever going to speak. I have to think." They stood in the room full of broken and dusty objects, the place where ugly things, even ugly secrets, go to die. They were silent, while Harry thought. Hermione didn't let go of his hands. She reveled in the feel of them, knowing it was the last time she could hold them.

"Okay," he whispered. "I'll start with Draco. Tell him how glad I am that he trusted me. And tell him to decide what he stands for, because it would be a tragedy if he couldn't make up his mind even now. And Neville. Tell him he's everything I wish I was. Tell him he can keep the title, because he's earned it. Tell him to never forget who he was raised to be."

Hermione nodded, committing the words to memory, knowing she would deliver them exactly the way he spoke, because it was all she could do for him.

"Tell Remus and Tonks thank you."

"For what?"

He gripped her hands. "They asked me to be Teddy's godfather. I had to say no, because . . . I won't be here for him. But tell them thank you for making me a part of their family. And when Teddy is old enough, tell him how badly I wished I could have. Tell him how much I love him already."

She nodded, dry-eyed even though it should have made her cry. She was too focused on her task.

"And tell Sirius—" Harry choked. "Tell him he's all the family I ever needed. Tell him that I could never have gotten here without him, and I never would have wanted him to. Tell him how sorry I am that it had to be this way. I'm so sorry. And I love him."

Hermione nodded, and kissed his hands again. "Okay. I'll remember."

"One more," he murmured. "I have a message for Hermione Granger."

Her hands went still and limp.

"Tell her this: I love her more than life, which is why I can give it up to give her the world she deserves. I'll miss her so much it hurts. I won't stop loving her once I'm gone, but she should never let it hold her back. Instead, it should give her all the confidence she needs to move on, find something beautiful with someone else. I want her to shine, like the brightest star in the sky. She's meant everything to me, and more than that. I wanted to make her mine and make me hers, forever. I wanted to spend every moment, waking or sleeping, by her side. I'm so sorry that I can't, but I know her life will be brilliant no matter what."

She was shaking her head, unable to imagine life without him at all, much less a life of brilliance. She was crying now, shaking with sobs.

"If you can't remember all that . . ." he whispered, "just tell her that I love her forever."

He stepped forward to kiss her, and he kissed her more tenderly than she could remember ever being kissed before. He held her in the circle of his arms, and his lips communicated everything he'd just said, and more than that. He told her then how beautiful she was, the way he worshiped her, and how desperately he longed for her. When he stepped back, her fingers were so tight in the shoulders of his shirt that he couldn't go very far.

"I'll tell her," Hermione whispered. "So long as you promise to tell him that he meant the same to me."

She leaned forward and added the final note to the kiss. Then Harry removed both wands from the holsters on his arms, and held them loosely in his right hand.

"Take them."

"What?"

"Disarm me."

"Why?"

"Because I'll be damned if I let Voldemort have this wand," he said grimly. "Now take them both."

"Expelliarmus."

The wands came to her, and she caught them, marveling that she didn't drop them from her half-numb fingers. Then Harry walked to the door, while she kept standing there. He turned around when he put his hand on the door to open it, and found her eyes.

"Goodbye."

"No," she whispered. "No."

"I love you."

She let all three wands clatter to the floor and covered her face with her hands, and wept. The door closed, and he was gone.