A/N) I found this chapter quite fun to write, I don't know why exactly... I think it might have been because I was coming to the end of the story and I knew exactly that was going to happen. Enjoy!

Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Road to Death

"You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat, immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. I have here, in my possession, your godfather, Sirius Black. He stands here beside me, my prisoner. You have permitted others like him to fight for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then your godfather shall suffer the most painful death that I can contrive for him. I will make sure that you hear every scream that he makes until his dying breath. If you still have not given yourself up at the point of his death, then battle shall recommence. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

Harry stood in the Great Hall, his chest heaving from the exhaustion of horror and fear. His eyes travelled from face to face, shock registering across them all. Everyone knew how close Harry Potter and Sirius Black were. His mind was screaming at him to do something, to run out the hall and towards the forest and save his godfather's life. But he didn't move.

How could he leave Sirius in that monster's hands? Sirius' death wouldn't be quick; no, it would be drawn out, agony at every turn: how could he let the man that had become his father, in every sense of the word, die like that?

"You can't give yourself up," said Hermione obstinately, arms folded across her chest, her hair frizzled in all directions.

"But..." stammered Harry, his heart beating heavily in his chest. How could he not go?

"You heard Sirius earlier: he told you that if anything happened to him for you not to surrender. You promised him you wouldn't! Going to Voldemort is just going to make Sirius feel bad! Voldemort won't let you live, Harry, he'll kill you, in front of him! Do you think Sirius wants to see that?"

"No," sighed Harry. "He wouldn't."

"Then you can't go," she continued. "If we lose you, we lose this war. We need you to help us fight. If you surrender, our world loses. Everything we have fought for would be lost."

Her logic was sound, reasonable and Harry understood that it made sense, but his heart strings were tugging at his insides, telling them that he should go, that he should surrender, because he loved Sirius like a father and he couldn't bear to hear him die...

His hand grasped the flask in his pocket that Sirius had given to him earlier. Slowly, he pulled it out and inspected the contents. Shiny and glittering crystals bounced off the walls. Snape wanted to talk to me. These are his memories... Sirius had explained to him that it was imperative that he view them, no matter what. Would one hour be enough? It has to be...

"Look," he said to both Hermione and Ron, "I've got to do something. Sirius wanted me to do this, no matter what." He held up the flask. "He made me promise him that I would. I need to see what is in these memories."

"We'll come with you," added Hermione gently.

Harry nodded. He was too numb to speak to deny her request. He was leaving his godfather to die in the most brutal way possible; how could he not hate himself at that point?

Everyone in the hall had watched Harry leave with Ron and Hermione. No one had questioned him, but somehow they all knew that he was not going to surrender, he was not going to sacrifice himself for the life of one man.

Remus Lupin sat bloodied and scarred, leaning against the wall with Tonks at his side. His best friend was going to die; there was nothing he could do. I can have revenge, he thought. Sirius wouldn't die in vain. I can avenge his death when Voldemort comes through these doors. No one will fall without a fight. His eyes darkened, blackening ever so slightly.

"Remus, if you are feeling up to it, I require your assistance with those that have died defending the school," said Professor McGonagall, who had crossed the hall to stand above him. "I am very sorry. Sirius is a good man. He doesn't deserve what is going to happen."

Remus swallowed. "I know," he replied, sounding almost broken. "But Sirius made Harry promise to not sacrifice himself. Harry won't go. If he was, Ron and Hermione wouldn't have left with him. He wouldn't put them in any more danger." He climbed to his feet, brushing the dirt and mud off from his tattered robes. He took a deep breath, nodded to the Transfiguration Professor and left the Great Hall with her; Tonks and a few others following behind.

Harry took the most direct path to the Headmaster's office. When he reached the gargoyle that guarded the entrance, Harry said 'Dumbledore', not because he thought it might be the password, he just knew it would be. Snape had wanted to talk to him, and in the event of his death, he had prepared the memories for him to view. He must have set it so that I could come up here. Having seen Snape's death ... the memory of what he had witnessed shook him to the core. But Voldemort is wrong. Snape never possessed the Elder Wand. It was always Draco Malfoy. I disarmed him only an hour ago, but do I now own the wand?

As he burst through the door into the circular office he found a change. The portraits that hung all around the walls were empty. Not a single headmaster or headmistress remained to see him; all, it seemed had flitted away, charging through paintings that lined the castle so that they could have a clear view of what was happening.

Harry glanced at the frame that would have been Albus Dumbledore's, hanging behind the headmaster's chair. He moved towards the cabinet where Dumbledore had stowed the Pensieve and heaved it onto the desk, un-stopping the flask and pouring the memories into the wide basin. "Well," he said, turning towards Ron and Hermione, "here I go."

He dived head-first into the Pensieve.

Bound and gagged, spells upon him to prevent him from transforming into his Animagus form, Sirius Black was tied to a tree in the forest. The Death Eaters stood all around the clearing that Voldemort had chosen to camp in, a fire roaring brightly in the centre of it. Blood leaked from the wounds he had sustained in the fight that had led to his capture and pain throbbed in his back.

The voice of Lord Voldemort reverberated through the clearing, issuing his demands to the school at large, and finally to Harry Potter. As the message ended and the Dark Lord lowered his wand from his throat that had been projecting his voice, Voldemort turned around, his red eyes burning straight at Sirius. He strolled forwards, his robes billowing behind him. He waved his wand once and the gag in Sirius' mouth vanished.

Sirius immediately spat at the Dark Lord's feet, glaring hatefully at the monster before him. "He won't come."

"Won't he?" One eyebrow rose. "I think he will. Harry Potter will do anything to save your life. He won't leave you to die; he has lost too much to not want to risk losing you. You, Black, are the one thing that he cares about most of all. His weakness is love. His love and admiration for you will lead him to me. And then he will die." Shrill laughter echoed around the forest, the Death Eaters joining in with their loyal master.

Casting his grey eyes around, Sirius saw the shaky laughter of the Malfoy's. They looked dreadful, pained and white, their faces drained of colour. Even from his vantage point, he could discern the one thing they didn't want: Harry to show himself, because if he didn't, they might survive, and Voldemort could die. They weren't in it for power; they had lost everything when before they had thought they would have all.

Failure in Voldemort's eyes was a failure in life.

"He promised me he wouldn't sacrifice himself," whispered Sirius. "People don't break promises." His eyes narrowed dangerously despite his inability to do anything.

"Really?" Voldemort made a show of looking surprised. Clearly he was confident that Harry Potter would surrender himself. "Promises are made to be broken. Your friend, Wormtail, swore never to betray his friends and yet he broke it, shattering a friendship that was supposedly so strong!"

"How do you know about that?" hissed Sirius venomously. That promise they had made was private!

Movement to the side and a stumpy figure was pushed into the clearing. Sirius' eyes widened as he saw Peter Pettigrew stumble into the circle. Of course he had forgotten, Wormtail had sold everything to save his own snivelling skin. He was the former friend that had taught him many things, had shown him that people could be trusted, but had broken that self same code, betraying James and Lily to their deaths, had sent him to hell in Azkaban because he was too cowardly to stand up to the punishment his crime warranted. Peter Pettigrew had single-handedly destroyed Harry Potter's happiness. If he could have lunged at Wormtail he would have done. The ropes were tied too securely, holding him expertly in place.

"Why?" His mouth moved of its own accord.

Wormtail trembled, his once heavy form, now a mass of thin skin, cowered at his voice.

"Answer him, Wormtail," commanded Voldemort. "Tell him why you betrayed your closest friends."

I already know why he did!

At the sound of his words, Wormtail whimpered, causing Sirius' anger to spike further upwards. "I didn't want to die." His voice was stuttering and scratchy.

"That is no excuse to betray our friendship, Peter! You told me this before, and I said this back to you, and I'll say it again even if it doesn't drive home this time!" His voice lowered menacingly. He didn't care that he was surrounded by Death Eaters and that Voldemort stood just to the side of him. Wormtail was there. He deserved his anger. If he was in possession of a wand right about now, murder was high on his list of things to do. "You should have died rather than betray your friends!" He was practically screaming as he said those familiar words that had been ripped from his tongue the night he had first met Harry after thirteen years of separation.

"There is no honour in friendship or promises," chuckled Voldemort, "betrayal is more preferable then death. Wormtail is no different. No one wants to die, Sirius, not even you."

"I would die if it meant saving my friends!" he retorted, spitting his words out.

"Pity when so many that are here are because they do not wish to die. In the end they have chosen the right side: the side of life!"

Sirius snorted. "Until they realise you don't honour your own promises, Voldemort! Or they get a kick up the arse and finally get it through their heads that you are a cruel bastard and that it is worth it fighting against you!" Was he really having this conversation with the Dark Lord? But something hardened inside him as he remembered what had happened to his brother. "My brother was one of those people who got that wake-up call," his voice had lowered, but still held defiance within it.

He had been sure that his words would have earned him a torture curse or two but none came his way. Instead to his extreme displeasure he appeared to have intrigued Voldemort at the mention of Regulus. Of course! He doesn't know how he died! Idiot, Padfoot!

Stepping closer to his prisoner, Voldemort cocked his head to the side. "I did wonder why he suddenly disappeared one day and never returned. Your parents could never provide a reason as to why he died. One minute he was there, the next gone." He had said this with a soft voice. "Perhaps, Black, you can tell me. I see it in your eyes that you know the truth."

Why not? mused Sirius. He already knows that Harry is hunting Horcruxes. He smiled grimly. "You should treat house elves better, Voldemort." He knew he was a hypocrite considering how he had once treated Kreacher, but at that point he really didn't care.

The wand came up.

For a split second Sirius thought Voldemort was going to curse him but he didn't.

That's a surprise. Usually when you insult him you find yourself either in a lot of pain or dead.

Narrowed red eyes searched his face. "Explain," came the soft voice.

It felt liberating having information that Tom Riddle did not. "Our house elf you used to test the security of that cave." He knew the Dark Lord would get his reference. He had searched there after all, knew the Horcrux was gone. "You left him there to die but you underestimated the word of a house elf's Master. Regulus ordered him to come back, and so he did, and then told him everything. My brother took it upon himself to destroy that Locket, one of your safe-guards," he smirked, "but he died in that lake, but not before ordering the house elf to destroy it! Years later, that very same elf bequeathed to me that Locket. Regulus tried to destroy it. He died realising that he was wrong to side with a sicko like you!"

"Crucio!" He'd angered him enough it seems.

Sirius screamed, writhing within the ropes that bound him. Laugher echoed around him. He didn't care that he was yelling his throat raw. He'd succeeded in getting under Voldemort's skin; that was enough satisfaction to warrant the pain he was now receiving.

"Your brother was a fool, and so are you." The wand moved away, ending the curse.

Sirius' head dropped. "No," he managed, "you are the fool, always have been."

The wand came up.

Sirius braced himself.

"Carnificus!"

Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth, breathing became harder and a strangled scream echoed around him as it tore from his throat. His bones felt like they were being rubbed together, grinding and crunching. So, so painful... He wasn't screaming now, he was screeching.

"You are just a blood traitor," hissed Voldemort dangerously, "and you will die as one when I finally win this war. Harry Potter will come to save you, make no mistake about that!"

Released from the curse, Sirius panted, trying to regain his breath and strength. Fighting back the pain that coursed through his body, he saw the Dark Lord walk away from him, yet Wormtail, his former friend, continued to stare at him, indecision in his eyes. He was too tired to think why he found that odd, yet something was not right with the way Peter Pettigrew stared at him.

He lay flat on his back in the Headmaster's study, his chest heaving with deep breaths. He blinked as the faces of Ron and Hermione bent over him, fear mingling in their eyes. He swallowed, his lips were numb. He now understood what he had to do. How could he tell Ron and Hermione the truth?

"Harry?" whispered Hermione gently, her bushy hair falling over her shoulders.

"Are you alright, mate?" Ron grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him up so that Harry was sitting on the office floor. "You're as white as a ghost!"

"I'm fine," he managed, but in truth he was not. How could he be fine after what he had just seen in Snape's memories?

"You're not fine," frowned Hermione, "you look as if you've just had a big shock!"

Harry bowed his head. Perceptive as always, Hermione never missed a trick. "I have," he lowered his gaze, unsure of what he could say to them. If he told them the truth they would attempt to stop him, but what choice did he have? "It's complicated."

"More complicated then hunting down You-Know-Who's Horcruxes?" joked Ron, in a feeble attempt to bring humour to the situation.

Harry did not bat a smile. "It's more than that," he sighed. Should he tell them? Indecision lived within him. They were his best friends. How could he lie to them? He ran a hand through his long hair. Sticking up on end, it had never played ball with him, always been a hindrance. He wondered if his father had ever thought this about his hair, or if he had relished the challenge it had provided for him? The thought of his father sent a warm feeling through him. I'll be joining him soon.

Surprisingly that thought didn't terrify him, it placated him.

"Harry?" probed Hermione, her voice low, slightly filled with fear. Her eyes were glassy, and her good hand found Ron's and squeezed it hard. They were both kneeling down in front of him, waiting for him to say...

He swallowed. "I'm a Horcrux."

There was a deafening silence. Any colour that had still been in Hermione's cheeks drained away.

"What? How do you know...?"

Harry blinked surprised to find that he wasn't crying. He would have thought when faced with certain death he shed some tears. "Snape's memories. Dumbledore told him. He was supposed to tell me."

"But... but... what does that mean?" stumbled out Ron, his voice squeaking.

"I have to die," he swallowed, "only then someone else can kill the snake and finish him off."

"But what about the prophecy?" desperately cried Hermione. She was grabbing hold of strings looking for ways that would ensure he wouldn't have to die.

Harry took a deep breath. "As long as I live that snake will be protected. Neither can live, neither can survive." Despite the shakiness in his legs, he succeeded in hauling himself to his feet. "I have to do this. I have to go to him."

Hermione did a great sob. Tears were clinging to her cheeks as they cascaded down her face. "This isn't fair! You shouldn't have to die! You don't deserve any of this! Why can't you just walk away?" It was a hopeless prayer, even she understood the consequences if Harry walked away.

"Someone has to do it," replied Ron, his voice broken. "And it's fallen to you."

He felt oddly calm about the idea of dying. "Yes, but when I'm gone the snake will be freed from the protections that surrounds it. Get it, Ron, for me?"

Ron gave a shaky nod, his arms wrapped around Hermione's shaking body. "I will, mate, you know I will."

Harry gave him a small smile. "Thanks Ron, for everything. You've been a real friend to me all these years, ever since you sat down in my compartment on the Hogwarts Express for the first time."

"Yeah," swallowed Ron. Awkward but potent, both were thinking of their first meeting.

"Hermione, you really are the brightest witch of your age. Look out for Ron for me, won't you?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" demanded Ron but his tone wasn't angry.

Shaky laughter erupted from Hermione. Blunt and to the core was Ronald Weasley and she loved him for it.

"Both of you have been the best friends I could ever wish for. I don't know what I could have done without either of you." It was odd saying goodbye like this but it felt right.

Before either Ron or Hermione could stop him, he ran from the office, swinging his Invisibility Cloak over his shoulders and disappearing from view. The last thing Harry heard as he jumped off the revolving stairs was a gigantic cry of rage from Hermione, and Ron's voice barely audible attempting to comfort her.

God, it was hard to leave them like that, but he had to. If he stayed any longer he knew it would become more difficult to break away.

His destiny set, Harry walked calmly and with purpose, towards it, knowing that at the end of the road lay certain death.

"Neville! Hey, Neville!"

It had been last minute inspiration, but he had seen the brown-haired boy helping to bring in the dead from the grounds, aiding the ailing injured. The saddest part was, was that Alastor Moody had been stuck down, his body having been battered beyond repair. He had not been only Auror to fall that night, many others had followed suit as well, taken down in the midst of battle. The light side had taken a battering.

Here and there Death Eaters bodies lay but it was difficult to determine who had suffered the most. If he had to lay bets on it, Harry would say that Voldemort was in the state to win. He blinked, finding tears leaking from his eyes. And I'm leaving them to that fate... Who will stand up to him when I'm gone? He knew everyone who loved him would, but how many would continue to fight when their loved ones were murdered in front of them?

"Blimey, Harry!" For he had hauled off the Invisibility Cloak, causing Neville to jump as he appeared in the darkness. "You nearly gave me heart failure!" He wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand then his gaze narrowed into suspicion. "Where are you going, alone? You left the hall with Ron and Hermione..."

"I've got something to do," answered Harry. "It's all part of the plan." I wish it was, he thought internally.

"You're not thinking of handing yourself over, are you?" Neville looked suddenly scared.

"No," Harry lied easily. "'Course not ... this is something else. But I might be out of sight for a while. You know Voldemort's snake, Neville? He's got a huge snake ... Calls it Nagini?"

Neville nodded. "Yeah, I've heard about it. What about it?"

"It's got to be killed," continued Harry. Why Neville? Was it because he admired his defiant spirit? He had spent the last few months antagonising the Death Eaters that had been placed within Hogwarts after all... No matter how scared Neville might have been as a youngster, he was a powerful young man, strong and capable of standing up for his beliefs if pushed too far. The Gryffindor bravery in Neville had always been buried deep down, he'd just needed encouragement to find it. "Ron and Hermione know that it has got to be killed, but just in case they don't..." He didn't even want to think about that possibility.

He almost felt like crumbling then and there and telling Neville what he was really going to do, but no, he had to be an adult. It was crucial the snake met its fate. He had to ensure that there were backups. He didn't need to tell Neville where they had hidden the sword. He was certain that Ron or Hermione would retrieve it. Dumbledore had died knowing that there were still four people in on the Horcrux secret, now Harry was ensuring that four remained. With his death, Neville would take his place in that circle of knowledge. He didn't have to know why it needed to be killed, just that it must be.

He swallowed and continued, no matter how painful it was. "Just in case they are – busy – and you get the chance."

"Kill the snake?"

"Kill the snake, yes," confirmed Harry.

Neville looked unsure as if he suspected his friend of something else. "All right, Harry. But you are okay, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry found swallowing difficult. "Thanks, Neville."

As Harry turned to move away, Neville strode forward and grabbed his wrist. "We're all going to keep fighting you know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do." Harry felt oddly at peace despite what he was about to walk into. "I've got to go..."

A curt nod from Neville, and the boy turned back and walked towards the nearest body. Swinging the cloak over himself, Harry walked in, feeling guilty that Neville trusted him enough that he wouldn't be giving himself up. How can I do this?

An inner voice answered him. Because you have to.

He closed his eyes, bringing forth to mind the people he cared about the most: Sirius at the forefront of his mind, with Ginny, Ron and Hermione standing a little way behind him, the rest of the Weasley family further back from them. I'm doing this because I have to.

As he reached the edge of the forest, a chill swept over him.

He shivered as his eyes found a swarm of Dementors were gliding amongst the trees. Essence of fear surrounded the ancient trees. He was trembling but he wasn't sure if he had enough strength to force through a Patronus charm strong enough to hold them off as he passed them.

This isn't easy.

A huge part of him wanted to run back up to the Castle, to seek refuge from the act he must do. Another part wished he had died as an infant so that he wouldn't have known this terrible emotional pain that was ripping through his very soul at this moment. He stood there, at the edge of the forest, drinking in the small of the grass, the cool air on his face... everything was so previous. He was clinging to each second he had left alive...

How can I do this? He knew he had to; his life had always been heading towards this moment, from the moment Voldemort had ever attempted to kill him. On instinct his right hand reached into his pocket and he found the golden snitch that had been given to him. He had always wondered why Dumbledore had left this to him in his will.

He held it up to his face, inspecting it closely. There was nothing unusual about it. The first snitch he had ever caught, why had he been given this? He didn't know why he did it; he brought it to his lips and bit onto it. As he took it away from his lips he saw bright words form upon its hardened skin.

I open at the close.

He knew what those words meant. Before I die.

Clasping it tightly in both his hands, Harry brought it to his lips once more and whispered, "I am about to die."

The metal shell broke open. His hand was shaking but Harry raised his wand under the cloak and murmured, "Lumos."

He found a black stone with a jagged crack running down the centre sitting in the two halves of the Snitch. With a bolt of realisation he knew what this was. This was once a Horcrux! The ring! The ring that Dumbledore destroyed and suffered that injury for! But it was never just a Horcrux. Everything seemed to fall into place: the real reason why Dumbledore had told him about the Deathly Hallows.

Sitting in the palm of his hand was the final and last Deathly Hallow: the Resurrection Stone. Voldemort never realised what it really was. He assumed it was just an heirloom from his forefathers, but he is descended from the second brother just like I'm descended from the third one! He and Voldemort were distantly related. That thought didn't frighten him as much as he thought it would.

He closed his eyes and turned the stone over in his hand three times. He knew it had happened because he heard slight movements around him that suggested frail bodies were shifting their footing on the earthy ground. He opened his eyes and looked around.

His breath caught in his throat, for they were neither ghost nor truly flesh. They were much more then ghosts,but not living bodies, smiling at him, yet both gone forever, and he was about to join them, just as he should have done as a baby.

James Potter was slightly taller than Harry, his hair was untidy and ruffled, and his glasses were a little lopsided.

But it was his mother's, Lily Potter's, smile that was the widest of all. Her long red hair was pushed back and she drew closer to him, her green eyes so like his, searched his face hungrily, as though she would never be able to look at him enough.

"You have been so brave," she said to him.

It shouldn't be like this, he should be able to speak to them, for this would be the only chance he would get. The parent's that he had never known, that had died for him, were here for him, to guide him forward, to his death.

"You are nearly there," said his father. "Very close. We are so proud of you."

"Does it hurt?" A childish question had fallen from his lips before he could stop it, but Harry didn't care. He was here with his mum and dad.

"No," James smiled, "it is just like falling asleep, only easier."

"You won't have to wait long," continued Lily.

"I didn't want you to die, neither of you." He could almost feel the tears gathering again. "I'm sorry."

"You have no need to be sorry, Harry," said James.

"We were fighting for a better world so that your generation wouldn't have had to grow up through a war. Our sacrifice ensured that the world had peace, if only for a little while." Lily's eyes were wet but he could see the love that she had for him shining out of her green pupils.

Harry took another deep breath. He didn't want to do this but he had to. His parents at been brave enough to face death. They had only been a little older than him when they had died. His mother had protected him as a baby; she'd had the courage to stand up for him. I can do that too...

His parents were watching him, waiting for him to decide. In the end it was his choice whether to run or to continue forward. He was no coward.

"You'll stay with me?"

"Until the very end," answered James.

"They won't be able to see you?" questioned Harry. He didn't want to put them in danger, even though they were past that.

"We are a part of you, invisible to anyone else," whispered Lily.

Harry swallowed and nodded. "Stay close to me," he said.

And he set off into the forest.

He passed the Dementors, the chill not overcoming him. His parents must be acting as a Patronus, protecting him from their dire effects. Harry clutched the Cloak tightly around him, travelling deeper and deeper into the forest. He had no idea where Voldemort was in the forest but he was sure he would find him. His father and mother accompanied him every step of the way. They had always been there for him, just hidden inside his soul.

He was certain his courage would have failed by now if they had not been there beside him, taking this perilous journey with him.

A twig snapped under his foot and he halted as two figures carrying wands emerged from behind a large, overbearing tree.

"I definitely heard something," said Yaxley. "Animal, d'you reckon?" The Death Eater glanced at his watch. "Time's nearly up. Potter's had his hour. He's not coming."

The second Death Eater grunted in disproval. "And he was sure he'd come! He won't be happy."

"Better go back, find out what the plan is now."

"We know what the plan is! Torture Black till Potter comes or until he dies!" laughed the other.

The two cloaked Death Eaters turned and walked deeper into the forest. Glancing at his parents, Harry followed them, knowing that Yaxley and his companion would lead him to where he needed to go. His mother smiled at him, and James nodded encouragement.

They seemed to travel on for a few more minutes before they emerged into the middle of a clearing. Harry hid behind a tree, his eyes scanning the area. Cobwebs hung from the trees above and spider's bodies littered the ground. Did he wipe out the entire Acromantula colony? It wasn't something he really needed the answer to, and it fell from his mind as his eyes found his godfather, Sirius, tied to a tree, closest to where the Dark Lord was standing.

The great snake, Nagini, floated in her glittering, charmed cage, by Voldemort's shoulder.

He, himself, stood with his head bowed, his white hands folded over the Elder Wand in front of him. He was waiting, as was every other Death Eater that had gathered. Harry could see Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, both looking defeated and terrified.

"No sign of him, my Lord," said the second Death Eater Harry had followed.

Voldemort's expression did not change. The red eyes burned. "I thought he would come." His voice was high and clear, but most of his followers eyed him in worshipful fascination. "I expected him to come."

"I told you he wouldn't come!" shouted Sirius angrily, struggling against the ropes that bound him.

Harry felt his heart thudding in his chest. His eyes found his parents once more. James' eyes were fixed upon the bloodied form of his best friend, but Lily's were reserved for only her son's face.

"I'm going to save him," whispered Harry gently.

"We know," smiled Lily sadly. She and James stood together, just waiting and watching him, as if they couldn't get enough of him.

Harry turned back. His heart was throwing itself against his ribs as though determined to escape the body he was about to cast aside. His hands were sweating as he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and stuffed it beneath his robes with his wand. He did not want to be tempted to fight.

"I was, it seems . . . mistaken that he would come," said Voldemort, his eyes going from follower to follower before finally settling on Sirius.

Harry took a step forward, the Resurrection Stone slipping from between his numb fingers as he projected his voice loud enough into the clearing. "You weren't!" His parents vanished but he knew he would see them again, wherever he was going.

"NO!" That was Sirius, struggling even more against the bonds that held him. "YOU PROMISED ME!"

It hurt to ignore him but Harry did, stepping forward as the Death Eaters rose amongst the cries and gasps of those that dared to voice their pleasure at his appearance. The Dark Lord seemed frozen to the spot, his red eyes had found his enemy.

"HARRY! LEAVE NOW!"

"Silence!" Bellatrix Lestrange flicked her wand at Sirius, and, though his lips continued to move, no sound came from his mouth. He glared hatefully at her. His attention swiftly returned to Harry and he was shaking his head in denial, hardly daring to believe that his godson was really there.

Harry made no attempt to retrieve his wand. He didn't need it. The task to kill Nagini had been bequeathed to others. Now it was his turn to die. He stood in front of the burning fire, trying to not allow fear to grip him as he faced Voldemort.

The Dark Lord twisted his wand in his fingers, slowly bringing it up until it was pointed directly at Harry's chest.

"Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived."

No one moved, save for Sirius who was still struggling, unable to do anything; only able to watch the horrific scene that was unfolding in front of him.

Voldemort had tilted his head to one side, as if hardly daring to believe Harry was really there.

Harry knew what was about to come. Images flooded his mind's eye and Harry saw Ginny enter his vision. He loved her, he truly did. He could not bear to look at Sirius' dismayed face. Ginny.

He saw the snake-like lips move and a flash of green light. He wasn't aware of it hitting him, he was just aware of everything was instantly gone.

Harry Potter was dead before his body had even begun to tumble to the ground.

To be continued...

Please let me know what you think!

Next chapter: The Final Battle - in which everything happens, basically. To be posted Thursday.

Until then,

the-writer1988