A/N Sorry for the wait. In my Biopage I tried to explain, why it took so long to update, since we're not supposed to do that here:). Thanks to all who've been waiting faitfully all this time. (Hugztoall)

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The platinum blonde man stood near Snape next to a dark, antiquated-looking musical instrument that resembled an angular grand piano. He grinned contemptuously at Harry over the Potions master's shoulder, the tip of his wand pressed so firmly against the other man's neck that it left an indentation in his skin.

"One wrong move, and he is dead, Potter."

Harry didn't have the slightest intention of endangering Snape, but he knew instinctively that a quick death would actually be Snape's best case scenario should he allow Malfoy to leave with him. If worst came to worst, Snape would again be left subject to Malfoy and his sadistic inclinations for an unknown length of time. The Dark Lord had admitted freely that Snape was explicitly programmed to obey the voice of Malfoy and the now-dead Voldemort himself.

A last look at Snape, and he decided. Resolutely, he lifted his wand and aimed it at Malfoy's head.

The blonde wizard blinked in surprise, but pulled himself together quickly and sneered. "I am not joking, Potter."

"Neither am I, Malfoy," hissed Harry. He had just defeated the most dangerous Dark wizard of the age. A snob like Malfoy would not get the better of him. "I will have cast my curse before you will be able to finish yours. Let him go."

Malfoy laughed quietly. "But are you quick enough to keep me from ramming my wand through his throat? It would be a quite unpleasant death for him; that, I can guarantee." The wand tip pushed a few millimeters deeper into the skin of Snape's neck, and Harry hesitated. To be honest, he couldn't be sure. He was playing with Snape's life again – but then again, it wouldn't be any different if he let Malfoy leave with him. Despairingly, he looked into the eyes of his former teacher. There was no doubt now that consciousness was returning, but next to the still dominant fear, he could now see resignation in Snape's eyes. Snape simply couldn't fight against Malfoy, no matter how much he might hate himself for that later.

With his eyes, Harry tried to catch the Potions master's gaze. "I am sorry, Professor. Honestly sorry. About everything," he whispered before tuning back towards Malfoy.

"I guess we will just have to find out, Malfoy," he said firmly.

Malfoy grinned wickedly. "So you are willing to risk the life of your teacher? I never realized before now just how much he managed to make his students hate him."

Harry knew that Malfoy was simply trying to goad him, but against his better judgment the words of the other wizard made him angry. "I don't hate him. Not any more."

"Well then, let us try. You won't kill me. You don't have it in you. The Dark Lord was not really alive, that is why you were able to destroy him. But with me, there is no other way than to use the death curse – and that you can't manage to apply that properly you have proven already."

"But I can hold you here until the Aurors come. If you kill Professor Snape, you will no longer have a shield."

Malfoy's eyes began to glitter. "It might be worth it to me, don't you see? I will get out of prison soon enough, but you will have Severus' death on your conscience."

Harry tried to ignore Malfoy's words. He had to act quickly, or his determination would dwindle away. But before he could even think of an appropriate curse to take Malfoy out of commission as quickly as possible, he heard a dull thud. Malfoy stiffened, and his eyes widened in surprise.

Behind Malfoy, on the keyboard cover of the grand piano, stood Dobby, wielding a soot-covered frying pan as a weapon. As if in slow motion, Malfoy let go of Snape, lifted a hand to the back of his head, and looked without comprehension at the blood that came away with it. His gaze went from his hand to the house-elf, and he took an unsteady step in his direction before his legs gave out and he fell forward, hit his head hard against the edge of the instrument, and slid to the ground.

For an endless moment, nobody moved. Then, as in slow motion, Snape turned around, and looked first at Malfoy's motionless body, and then, still as if in slow motion, looked up at the house-elf.

The small creature returned the gaze for just a moment, but immediately dropped the frying pan, which – with a dull 'clank' – landed first on the piano, and then with a deafening clatter crashed onto the polished marble floor. The house-elf turned his nearly despairing gaze on Harry. "Dobby just wanted to tell the others where Harry Potter Sir and Professor Snape Sir were. Dobby saw how bad Master threatened Harry Potter and Professor. He just wanted to help. Dobby did not want to kill Master Malfoy. House-elves should not kill wizards…"

The little house-elf had both hands pressed to his head, clawing his skull as if he wanted to scratch something really terrible out of it.

Harry was at his side with two steps, grasped Dobby's hands, and forced them away from his head before he could hurt himself.

"Stop that, Dobby. You didn't do anything bad. You don't have to punish or berate yourself. Your deed probably saved the day. Malfoy is almost as dangerous as Voldemort himself, or he could have risen to that level if given the chance."

Inadvertently, Harry's gaze wandered back to Snape, who hadn't said a word, his eyes fixed on Malfoy. He had experienced Malfoy's truly evil nature today, in a horrible display that he would most likely not forget for as long as he lived.

His words seemed to calm the house-elf to a certain degree, and the desperation in his gaze gave way to doubt. In the end, he even managed a smile, and a trace of thankfulness and pride lay across his features.

"We don't even know yet if he is really dead," Harry said, smiling back at him.

He knelt down next to Malfoy. Since the man's contorted body lay on his side, it wasn't particularly hard for Harry to turn him on his back.

Sightless, wide-open pale eyes stared at the ceiling.

"I suppose that answers that question," Harry murmured, and then looked back up at Dobby, whose bat-like ears were starting to droop. He didn't look proud at all any more, but at least he didn't seem full of self-condemnation either, thank God.

Again, his gaze wandered to the motionless figure of his former teacher. Without turning his eyes away, he continued speaking to the house-elf. "Go and see where everyone else is, please."

With a 'plop' the small creature disappeared, and Harry straightened back up.

"Sir?"

"He is dead," Snape whispered after a minute of uncomfortable silence, his expression still as rigid and expressionless as his voice.

"Sir?" Harry asked again.

Slowly, the Potions master looked towards him, and Harry had to suppress a shiver. Snape's jet-black eyes gave away not emotions whatsoever.

"I didn't know what they…I mean, I want…"

With his hand, he brushed his hair back from his forehead, and lowered his eyes. "Oh, I don't know what I want. Nothing I could ever say would be enough. The devastation my letter has caused can never be fixed with an apology."

"You should never have seen this," Snape whispered tonelessly, as if he hadn't heard him.

Harry looked up at him again, and noticed that Snape's gaze was back on the dead body of Malfoy. "I know, Sir," he said, just as quietly. "Maybe you should… I mean, if you want to, you are welcome to Obliviate me."

Slowly, Snape looked up, and his eyebrow lifted a bare millimeter. "Then you would forget all about the final fight."

Harry swallowed. He knew that only too well. Snape would probably expect him to boast and gloat about how he had defeated Voldemort, but at the moment, he didn't give a fig about all that. "It would be a small price to pay to make up for my mistake, and by far not enough. But it would be a start. Obliviate me, Professor."

And then Snape did something completely un-Snapish, something that shook Harry to the core. He sighed deeply, and then with his left hand gave Harry a short pat on the shoulder.

"That will not be necessary. It seems that I was only programmed , through Dark magic and…torture, to follow the voices of those two alone. They are now dead. It's over, Potter."

"Are you certain?" Harry asked carefully. He never thought that he would ever have such a human conversation with the formerly hated Slytherin. But now that was the case, and he would have given anything to undo the horrible way Snape had been forced to this point of humanness.

Snape looked directly at him again. "It is over. The others will be here soon. I can hear them in front of the door. Go and tell them that the Dark Lord is dead once and for all."

With a loud bang, the massive wooden door was lifted off its hinges behind them, and several people pushed through. With a last, intense look at Snape and the silent oath that from now on, he would do all he could to prove to Snape that he was sincerely penitent, he turned towards the new arrivals.

Especially one of these new arrivals caused a warm, happy feeling to spread through Harry's midsection. "Sirius!" he called out happily as he saw his godfather push through the door at Dumbledore's side, alive and well, followed by Shacklebolt, Tonks, and two Aurors he didn't recognize.

Forgetting Snape for a moment, he hurried towards the older wizard and fell around his neck like a small child, which didn't matter at all at the moment. Sirius seemed to feel the same way, because he returned the hug equally fiercely.

"Are you all right, Harry? Dobby told us that Malfoy and Voldemort lured you into a trap?"

He held Harry at arms length, and examined him from top to bottom, as if he were looking for hidden wounds.

"I'm fine, Sirius," Harry answered with laughter in his voice. "Voldemort is dead. This time for good."

"Where is he?" Dumbledore asked in a worried voice. Harry simply pointed to what was left of Voldemort. Ashes.

Dumbledore look over to the Potions master, and his expression grew even softer. "Are you all right, Severus?"

Snape simply nodded. Harry was glad that Snape seemed to have recovered quite quickly. Even so, he would have expected at least a warning glance in his direction – but Snape didn't pay any attention to him at all any more. It didn't matter. He had no intention to ever tell anyone about Snape's breakdown. At least for the moment, and for as long as Snape was able to deal with it without help.

Sirius whistled quietly through his teeth. "Did you really…?" He didn't finish the sentence.

Harry just nodded, and said, "Pettigrew is dead. He saved my life."

Dumbledore needed a bit too long to follow the sudden change in topic. But Sirius reacted immediately, and turned to the two Aurors. "Ha, what did you say? Something about arresting me? Instead, I will be glad to accept your apologies."

As what Harry and Sirius had said sank in, the two let their eyes wander around the office. Their eyes widened when they saw the ash pile that was all that remained of Voldemort, and when they saw Pettigrew's corpse and the dead body of Malfoy, they turned a hefty shade paler. "But that…" began the female Auror.

"Is that Malfoy? But I thought he was under the Imperius back then…" the other one whispered.

"As if. I have always suspected him, Brion. The slimy thug," said the tall, lanky woman with the short, tightly-curled hair. She seemed to have pullled herself together again and turned to Sirius. "Of course the Ministry will have to confirm the exact identity of Pettigrew, but that, together with Dumbledore's word, should remove all doubts about your story from the minds of most of us Aurors."

"I fear that we will have to be the bearers of bad news to Draco and his mother," Dumbledore said with a sigh and a regretful shake of the head as he looked at Malfoy's body. His gaze for a moment fixed on the frying pan, half hidden on the floor under the piano, and his eyebrows lifted in astonishment. "How did Malfoy die? Who caused his wound?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened when a repentant Dobby Apparated behind Harry and looked at him with a hesitating smile.

Turning to Harry, he asked, "Dobby?"

Harry nodded and said, "When Malfoy was trying to kill me, Dobby whacked him over the head with the frying pan. He saved my life, just like Wormtail." He purposely left out that the house-elf had really saved Snape's life as well. He didn't know if a life debt was incurred when a house-elf saved a wizard's life, the way it would be if another wizard was responsible for that act. He doubted it, since house-elves, especially among purebloods, were not valued much higher than animals – and yet it was expected that they would do everything necessary to save the wizards' life, even if it cost them their own. Even so, Harry didn't really want to draw Snape's attention to that fact, especially after Malfoy and Voldemort had already trampled his pride and self-respect underfoot so completely.

Dumbledore's expression brightened. Turning towards Dobby, he said, "That was good work, Dobby. My sincere thanks."

He didn't get any further, because, while the female Auror moved over to the pile of ashes, her partner gave a signal towards the corridor. Immediately, two more Aurors, the Weasley men, and a very grim-looking Molly entered the room, the latter accompanied by Remus, who had one arm in a sling.

Harry noticed, that there were more people who had sustained small injuries, and that some people were entirely absent, among them Professor McGonagall.

"There were more and more Death Eaters, but we were either able to hold them off, or they fled," said Sirius, who seemed to have guessed his thoughts. "A few of us are hurt, but we have no deaths to mourn, thanks be to Merlin."

He didn't get any further and neither did Harry get a chance to ask questions, because right then two more figures stormed into the room, and Harry found himself nearly knocked over and fiercely hugged by Hermione and Ron. From the corner of his eye, he could make out the massive bulk of Hagrid, even though Hermione's bushy hair covered most of his field of vision. Under the onslaught of questions from his friends, he was barely able to make out that the half-giant was trying justify himself in a defensive voice. "I'm really sorry, Molly, but they forced me. I don' have a wand, as yeh know…"

He missed the rest, as well as the rapidly spreading euphoria among the people in the room as they processed the news of Voldemort's final demise, as he focused all his attention on his friends.