Hello. = Normal Writing, Writers Perspective

"Hello." = Normal Speaking

'Hello' = Quotes from Story

"Hello." = Different Languages

'Hello.' = Actual Thinking

Hello = Special Words

Chapter Four
Til Death do us part

"The Soul is the truth of who we are."

- Marianne Williamson -

"Well, that was unexpected."

"On the contrary it was totally expected, Mr. Black."

The two contrary colored men starring at the scene in front of them, were a tad bit disenchanted by what was happening. Truth to be told the black haired one had kind-of expected this, but not to this extend, as it had happened just a few minutes ago.

Yes.

Harry just had fused with the weird green eyed Dumbledore, but instead of curling up on himself like he did before he was lifted upwards into the air - if there was any of it here anyways (one couldn't tell) - and his whole body lit up white. Formerly his godchild had not announced any kind of pain during the merging, but now he was screaming like a banshee.

Frantic he moved forward, only to be stopped again by Death's Harbinger.

"He will be fine." Was what he said. "That is if his will is strong enough."

Which did nothing to sooth Sirius mind at all.

Harry felt as if his body was on fire, everything was burning, boiling and tearing.
Why had he walked towards the green eyed Dumbledore?
Why did this one not explode in a shower of light as Tom's soul piece had before?
Why had this one just fused with his body?
Would this one change him? He was so confused and he had a murderous headache to top it all of.

Once his body stopped burning, the boiling and tearing got worse.

As if ripping his sole existence apart just to reattach it in the same space. He felt the memories flushing into his mind, creating a storm. Sure that he was going insane he kept on screaming until his hurting throat hurt no longer. His fingers, hands, feet, everything was spastic, twitching, curling. No longer in control over his body he begged that at least some of his muscle functions were still there, otherwise this was going to be really mortifying for him.

Well, at least he still had common sense, even if all else seemed to currently fail.

Soon, or rather not so soon but hours later the boiling stopped too. His fingers stopped twitching, only the tearing was still there, which later dispersed completely. 'At least I can say that I know something even worse than the Cruciatus.' Went through his mind as he felt himself fall onto the white floor thought a thick veil that clouded his senses. The memories still made him dizzy.

A familiar voice he had not realized was talking to him inside was fading slowly into nothingness. As he laid there the boy realized that the exhausted trembling had stopped and his eyes were shut close.

"Harry?" Sounded the untypical timid voice of his godfather.

"Yes?" He wanted to say but all that came out was a low hum.
Exhausted as he was Harry still kept his eyes shut, not wanting to add onto the headache already pounding away in his head with the bright white of his surroundings. Still through the veil he felt his godfathers cold hand caressing his cheek and then his forehead.

"You are running a fever." Came the solemn words.

"It will sink in a few minutes. He is strong, Mr Black.
You have overcome the piece of Dumbledore's soul that latched itself to you together with Tom's back when you were just a babe." Said the nearing white being almost monotonous. Harry had so many questions that twirled in his head together with the twister of memories. Now there were so many he could not hold the ones back that he had received earlier. Tom Riddle's and Albus Dumbledore's memories clashed, hurting his head even worse, he wanted them to stop. Wanted them to get out, but there were so freakishly many.

"Let them sort themselves." Came the hint from outside, as if the Harbinger had read his mind. "Lay silent, let them fuse and calm down or they will return later on and destroy your mind scape."

So Harry followed the instructions, breathed in and out, concentrated on just that motion alone, calming down his frantic mind until the twister calmed down and left a chaos to be sorted. But not now. He would have to learn Occlumency from scratch was what the Harbinger told him next. Then he could accesses the foreign memories, as well as his own, and sort them to his liking.

"Of course it is all easier the earlier you begin and you being seventeen is not helping that case at all. Few of the old families do either teach their children from the age of three, or have family magic to do the trick. So it will be hard, but none the less manageable."

Now Harry had no doubt how the white one had been able to impersonate Albus Dumbledore, he almost seemed like another person when he was not spouting insanity. After what felt like eternity the headache was subdued to a light pressure he forgot about after two seconds, too used to pain to actually care.

Soon after he opened his eyes a fraction to gaze at the hovering form of his godfather.

"The fever is gone, how is your head?" Instead of answering he just showed Sirius a thumbs up that was slightly tilted to indicate that there still was some pain, but he was okay. The old dog sighed relieved.

After getting slowly into a sitting position Harry rubbed his tired eyes to stay awake. Apparently fusing souls was rather exhausting. But what was with the two soul pieces?
They had been part of two other whole souls and to his knowledge his soul had been whole too, so did that make his soul bigger?
Instead of burdening his hurt head with that question longer than necessary he asked it out loud.

"Yes. Your soul is a tad bit bigger now than before. No, it does not change the fact that it still is gray due to the ritual the two of you underwent. If anything, it was cemented into the gray area due to the whiskered idiot's white family magic - which is partly embedded into a soul - and his darkening soul at that time."

Somehow the twosome had the distinct feeling that Death's Harbinger was a bit annoyed by them and their endless questions.

"Not with you per se." Came the reply to a not asked question. "I am more pissed at that stupid mongrel that is currently tipping away at the Laptop, calling herself a writer. I swear if I get any more screen time that goes beyond this here chapter without being paid I will come up there and we will have a nice, long chat." Threatened the white being, breaking the fourth wall in the process. Due to not wanting a chat - probably involving goats, horker teeth and the (uh...) chatting chamber of the Black Hand - with said Harbinger, the writer decided it would be the best for business to never include him again. Ever. *

"Now that that's out of the way", grumbled the white being, expertly ignoring the stares from the wizard duo, "I will make a long story about you two short and say it outright: I could send you back in time."

Harry's and Sirius eyes widened at that possibility, so many lives they could save, so much they could change.

"Ah, yes, the ever convenient time travel plot. Rather overused in a few parallel worlds, but for this world it has to do. Sadly I can't do it now. Still have a lot of Energy to collect for me to throw two of you back. Luckily for me I shall never appear again, unless this mongrel has some way to force me. I will sent you back when the time is convenient and you two will never know when it actually happens. So, you will have to entertain yourselves for the next few days, to months, to years, to decades until then. Bye."

And with that the white was gone, mad cackling surrounded the two consciousnesses left floating, until they felt themselves falling back into a container.

His senses came back to Harry and he knew in that instant that he had not felt, smelled, seen or breath anything before.
Again he laid there, face first, on the ground. This time it was earth, he was sure of that. The smell alone told him that. He felt the cold hart earth under his cheek, the hinge of his glasses hurt his temple, now realized he had not worn them before in that strange place resembling King's Cross. 'The in-between.' Mumbled something in his head.

Everything hurt like hell. Again.

Harry did not move, he stayed silent and as still as if he had been hit by a Petrificus Totalus. His mouth stood agape, eyes closed, his left arm laying in an awkward position and his body weight weighting nastily on his poor knees. He heard nothing. Against his expectations there was no loud howling of triumph, or happy cheers. It was deafening silent, only hasty steps and anxious whispering filled the air.

"My Lord. My Lord."

It was Bellatrix voice he heard first.

Her voice was pleading, soft, almost lovingly, as if she was speaking to a dear lover.

That idea alone was revolting, but Harry kept still, even as he forced down the pictures conjured in his head.
Absentmindedly he registered that his wand was still there, together with the Cloak of Invisibility pressed against his belly. Again the insane witch called out the mans title, this time he roughly interrupted her and Harry had the urge to open his eyes just a little, so he could see what was happening.
Luckily he laid so that he could easily see a rising Dark Lord, surrounded by his followers. Hastily stepping back they made room for the dark wizard so that they would not be in the path of his wrath. Only Bellatrix stayed by his side. Something must have happened when the old one had fired off the deadly curse. Had he too been knocked out?

"My Lord, let me-", came Bellatrix' voice ripping through his thoughts. He could not see her face, but her tone implied a worried one. Sadly the idiot pushed her helpfully reaching hand away as he straightened himself a little more.

"The boy...", his Lordship trailed off shortly for unknown reasons, "is the boy dead?"

The clearing grew dead silent.

The whispers ceased to exist and Harry felt every single pair of eyes on his form and he feared something would twitch under their watchful gaze. He suppressed his breathing to a bare minimum, his heart beating loud, almost traitorously in his chest as Voldemort called out one of his underlings, a slap was heard shortly followed by a sharp pained cry.

"Tell me that he is dead!"

And so Harry, not knowing who it was, as he had just closed his eyes, waited with his low breathing and racing heart for the follower of Moldy-Shorts to come up to him. Blood was rushing though his ears and his formerly subdued headache came back with a vengeance. Luckily without the memories.

Then there were fingers. Decidedly soft fingers on delicate hands, a person who probably never had worked hard.
Lady fingers neither Hermione, Ginny nor Luna had. Forcing down the heavy scowl that wanted to cement itself on his face he waited. He hoped beyond anything that this was not Bellatrix.

The unknown soft hands traveled through his shirt, placed themselves on his chest in search for a heartbeat, after lifting his eyelids. He felt the lady's breath on his face before her long hair tickled his skin.

Realization hit him hard. She could feel his heartbeat.

"Draco", came the low, unexpected whispered from the woman, "is he still alive? Is he at the castle?"

For a moment he had to wrack his pained brain for who this was, only for a voice that sounded oddly like Sirius to whisper in his head, that this was Narcissa Malfoy. Of course she would want to know about her son.

Harry, who still had difficulties to remember his own life, considering he had been cursed for the past two years and the fact that he now had two other long term memories, tried to remember if Draco was alive at Hogwarts.

There was a brief flash of fire, blond hair and the sensation of flying that finally came through the headache.
Her whispering was so low he nearly forgot she had talked to him at all, even though he could feel her proximity, her long hair probably hiding his face from view.

"Yes." He breathed back, not daring to say anything else, not even moving his lips. Her hand tensed on his torso, long groomed fingernails digging into his flesh that still hurt like hell. Harry could not, for the life of him, say if she drew blood or not. Her hands vanished from where they had rested, she had stood up, now facing all the Death Eaters on her own.

"He is dead." Said Narcissa, he could hear the smile in her voice, as could everyone else. But they seemingly mistook it for the joy of his death instead of the joy of her alive son. They howled, laughed, danced with joy, he saw as he allowed his eyes to open again as a slit. He closed them again as bright lights were shot from various wands.

Red and Silver.

Quiet ironic.

As he laid there as a corpse he began to understand that Narcissa only ever could get into Hogwarts in the victorious army of Voldemort if she was to search for her son. She seemingly did not care if the Lord her husband served actually won anymore, or not. The commotion died down as the snake claimed that he had finally killed the-boy-who-lived and fired off a Crucio.

Harry had seen it coming, he had known that his carcass would not lay non-defiled on the cold ground of the forest for long. He had to be defiled for Voldemort's victory to actually count.

Being flung around like a rag-doll was not funny, he still had a headache and he had a hart time keeping silent and limp. Oh how he wanted to vanquish the fucker right now. Sadly now was not the time. Three new Cruciatus Curses followed the original one, but the pain stayed away. Or more like it was absorbed into his already hurting body. He felt his glasses come off with one flight, with another his wand slipped slightly, but he still kept quiet, apathetic.

Scornful shouts echoed around the campfire as his cadaver landed one last time before snake face, who almost howled in triumph.
The rest of the event was rather fast as Hagrid was cat-called forth to carry the boy-who-lived up to the castle. Poor half giant had to do it, but internally Harry wondered if he was Dumbledore's loyal lapdog or if the keeper, too was cursed. As he laid there lax in the arms of his teacher he heard a subdued voice in his head.

'Harry', it was Sirius ,'I'm with you.'

It was a short message to keep his headache at a bare minimum, but it none the less made his point clear. Even if the others all were cursed by the Puppeteers Sonata Harry still was not alone. Feeling comfort in that he played dead as long as he had to, not once opening his eyes, even when he could hear a familiar female voice screaming in pain. Another laughed, then there were panicked voices from, what he mad out to be, his friends. He did not follow the debate, his headache was pounding and for a short moment he played with the thought of playing dead until the end of battle - but it vanished shortly after he heard Voldemort slander him as a coward.

Just then somebody stormed forward, apparently going directly for the snake faced bastard.

Then there was a bang, a scream of pain and Harry had the urge to open his eyes. So he did, just a tiny gap, but enough to make out Neville Longbottom going down to the ground after being hit by a green curse.

Poor Neville, he was regretting the fact that he never had actually looked at the other boy closer. Neville would have been a great wizard, courageous like a Gryffindor should be and, according to the boy himself and the Sorting Hat, a Hufflepuff - hard working and loyal, even when he had ended in the other house.

Silently Harry cursed Dumbledore, Voldemort and the Ministry for all they had ever done.

Now that poor Neville lay dead on the school grounds the others panicked and Harry took that moment to end it all.

Why should he waste more life when he could just be done with it?
Besides, he had a headache and his body was still in pain.

Before his eyes sprung wide open his hand was already underneath his shirt, grabbing his wand. He found his target, Lord Voldemort, in a split second. Idiot had of course been standing right in front of his followers, thinking himself to high to be touched. In that moment Harry did not think about possible consequences, he seriously wanted to hurt that asshole for everything he had done, thought it might have been a push from Dumbledore to let him do so.

Plus, he rationalized, he did not want to be called the next Dark Lord by firing off the Death Curse.

So he took a different spell.

"Bombarda!"

And nobody had expected it, truth to be told not even Harry had expected Voldemort to be so lenient, so plain idiotic.

All that stood in proximity to the Dark Lord were sprayed with blood as Tom Riddle's brain matter exploded in a fountain. Now the only thing left to do was killing the snake, Nagini, which luckily was released from her bubble behind Voldemort beforehand. Sadly he had not the time to attack her too, besides he had to use either Fiendfyre or Godric Gryffindor's sword, which-

Somehow this was getting even more ridiculous by the minute, as if some higher power wanted him to have the upper hand.

Fawkes appeared in a flash of flames, bearing the Sorting Hat, which, as Harry caught it, materialized the sword he previously thought of. Surprisingly everybody else was still in some kind of shock, because he could fall out of Hagrids shock-frosted arms, take three leaping steps towards the hissing Boa while preparing for the strike and behead her leaping form as the first Death Eater began to move for his wand.

Óla, Chikoritas :)

I contemplated ending this Chapter right here, but luckily for you I wanted to get somewhere besides redoing J.R's final chapters.

~Berry

Black fog poured out from the fallen carcass of Lord Voldemort and his snake Nagini, dispersing as beneath it a battle broke out.

Harry could have face palmed himself as he dived out of the way when multiple Avada flew at him, hitting people behind him. He did, at that moment, actually not care who it was, as he was out for self-preservation.

At the edge of his perception he saw Hagrid rounding on the Death Eaters behind him, backhanding two at once, knocking them nine feet away from him. The whole school and all Death Eaters were in an uproar, and Harry was sure that the image he just produced by exploding Voldemort's head would hound him and others for a long, long time.

Actually, if it weren't for his murderous headache he was sure that this would be on the forefront of his mind.

He sprinted behind fallen debris, body practically on autopilot, ducking underneath more incoming spells. Not sure if they only were from one side he searched behind him to see if anybody of his 'friends' would hit him, but none were there aiming at him. Instead he saw Luna running towards his spot shooting of vicious spells at their enemies. For a second he was glad that, even if she was cursed, or paid off against him, she still would battle for him - at the moment.

As she neared him he could see the tears in her saddened eyes. For a moment emerald green met silver-gray, then she pointed her tulip shaped wand at him-

'Behind you!' Shouted Sirius and Harry grabbed his head with his left hand at the prompt pounding ache, while his right one independently moved towards the unknown attacker.

Spells flew and as Harry saw green rushing past him on the edge of his vision, he only hoped Luna could avoid the curse as he himself, or rather his wand-hand, fired off a Diffindo at the attacker, slicing his throat.

Screams got louder on the battlefield, pained ones, that tore through his ever present headache, some of them promised death, others destruction. He turned around again, but Luna was not there, bodies littered the ground, light and dark alike.

Firing of spell after spell he had no feeling of the actual time passing.

He knew he killed, but he could not bring himself to feel true remorse as he still was living off of his adrenalin alone, trying to stay alive. Seeing death occur in such gruesome, almost regular fashion made his insides churn. But he kept going, firing of his whole arsenal of charms, curses, jinxes and hexes, taking out his enemies left and right while getting hit a few times himself with some nasty curses. He almost felt like a Berserk, ignoring all his wounds.

Finally, as the last of dark forces surrendered or fled and he was one of the last ones standing, the dawning sun shone brightly over their heads, immersing everything in a eery orange-red.

Harry could feel various wounds on his body. Broken ribs, a shattered left arm, cut off fingers. Exhaustion spreading through him, clouding his pained mind. Oh, how he wanted to fall asleep on the spot. But there was so much to do.

Gazing around him he could make out pale blond hair on the ground next to him, but it was not Luna. As he peered closer through his hazy vision he realized it was Draco Malfoy, shock forever carved onto his pale face. Feeling a pang of regret Harry stumbled around, looking for his friends.

Yes, even thought he knew they were traitorous or under a spell he still felt compelled to see if they had survived this manslaughter. Faces he knew greeted him, still lying there, as if their sacrifice was nothing, accusing him for their death. He could make out bushy brown hair and twin red mobs coming towards him, blurred as they may have been - he had lost his glasses after all.

So Hermione, Ron and Ginny were still alive.

That was good.

He stared at their incoming forms, still far away from him, trying not to step on a corpse. His headache was getting worse and worse by the minute, he could make out sobbing noises to his right, gazing shortly he saw a familiar head of red hovering above another dead person, but he was a little too messed up right now to recognize who it was.

'We need to leave.' Grumbled Sirius voice in his head, making Harry flinch and grab his throbbing head. 'They have planned something! I feel it. Quick, under the cloak and Apparate away!' Sluggishly he heeded his godfathers instincts, trusting the one he called family on instinct and not questioning how in hell he could Apparate from Hogwarts Grounds.

Drawing the Cloak of Invisibility from underneath his shirt he draped it over himself and with a pop Harry James Potter was gone.

*Breaking the fourth wall is hilarious!

Óla Chikoritas, or should that be the 501st?

Seriously, I will name myself Darth Vader... 501 Views from the first of July alone? *Epic slow clapping*
Don't get me wrong, I will be a squealing, happy and hyper Darth...

What do you think? Good? Bad? Tell me if there are mistakes if you find them. I will try to make every chapter at least five pages long. If longer: Awesome. If shorter: Shit happens.

fluff,
Berry

Fun-Fact: I own a gorgeous Trafalgar Law figure and my parents called him Ken =,='