Sorry for any mistakes.

LAST CHAPTER

.-.

Harry supposed this was what a caterpillar felt as it breached its cocoon as a butterfly. It was liberating. It felt as if everything had changed. The air in his lungs felt different. His body felt lighter, his hair softer, his eyes sharper. His blood felt warmer in his veins and is heart beat more steadily. It was beautiful to be dead Harry thought as he sat up, the feeling of his own blood dripping down his back making him smile.

He stood on steady legs and stretched feeling wonderful as he glanced at the blood painting the courtyard, runes swirling about it and about him like a web. He looked up, towards the battle and saw everything was still clouded in the last bits of the magical explosion. The air was filled with a white noise and you could barely make anything out in the fog of residue magic and dust. But Harry could see Blaise standing tall and proud, waiting. His eyes looked up and met Harry's as if sensing him. Harry saw his eyes widen just slightly before Harry's conscious was through the space between them and slamming into Blaise's, slipping between every barrier until he was in the deepest part of the boy.

.-.

"When did you figure it out?" Harry asked easily glancing around what was Blaise's mindscape.

The image of Blaise flinched at his voice, the room wavering, but reigned himself in quickly as he spun to face Harry. For a moment they stared in one another's eyes, one nervously and one calmly.

"...A few weeks ago." Blaise finally admitted. "I've always had suspicions but not clear cut ideas. When you ordered me to follow Voldemort's orders, I knew I was correct. To use a ritual you need a starter, something that ignites the magic and the power be it runes or blood or intent. But you're more than just a man using a ritual. You're a god."

It was said in a breathless whisper that echoed in the room and made Harry smile.

"Say it Blaise." He purred. "Say it."

"A god of darkness. My god. Harry."

Harry sighed as he felt magic flow through him, jolting. Prayer and belief fed him now. Made him stronger even. Not that he required it from beings such as humans. The universe had already acknowledged him and he needed nothing more, but all these little extras were delicious.

"Good job Blaise." He said, the words soft spoken. "And now is where you make your choice."

"Choice?" Blaise asked, sounding confused for the first time in a long time.

Harry smiled again and held out a soft pale hand.

"Come with me, back to the battle and fight, or retire to my kingdom."

Blaise stared at him wide eyed.

"It's not a test." Harry said softly as he could. "It is your choice. No matter what, you shall always be mine."

"I...let me retire to your kingdom milord. I'm tired and worn. I would be of no use in battle." Blaise finally said giving a soft breath of weariness.

"Of course. Nurmengard does not contain dementors but it has its own defences which I know to have taken much out of you. Rest. Severus and Cedric shall be there."

And then they were both gone, Harry back in the real world and Blaise far away and safe, falling asleep into Cedric's surprised arms (unsure of how both of them had gotten there), Snape waiting nearby to receive them.

.-.

Harry opened his eyes in the real world again and it was like waking up from an eternal sleep. Everything was just so...real. It felt like he had been looking through water for his whole life and suddenly everything was now in focus. If he had had great control and power before, he now had perfect control and monstrous power. Harry smiled, a truly content smile, as he felt as if he had finally snapped into place in the world, as if everything was fine now. He looked around.

Each side of the field had stopped dead before the fight had hardly started, staring about in horror and fear and nervousness. They didn't even move away from the runes now etched in the ground, but looked at them lost. Most eyes were trained on Dumbledore and Harry, emotions running rampart as they stared at their Light Leader and the golden boy, or to some the Enemy and the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die.

Dumbledore was kneeling on the ground, runes swirled about him like waves as he held the corpse of the man he had once loved and the man who had shifted him from his path only to help him ascend it. The aged wizard was bathed in a glow of white, like a beam falling perfectly on him. He didn't look quite so frail and aged now though. He looked ...elegant. Oh, there were still wrinkles and his beard, but something screamed never-dying.

Harry beside him, not stepping on any of the runes was the opposite. Black shadows had coalesced behind him like large feathered wings, flared slightly. He waited patiently, as he clenched and unclenched the magic about him, testing it subtly. He looked out over the armies, his senses so heightened he barely had to glance at a person before he knew what side they were truly on. Those of the dark were like beacons to him, dark shadows in a white room.

Voldemort stood at the head of his army, mouth slightly open in shock and what Harry knew to be fear. Meeting his enemies' eyes he knew Voldemort knew what he was. Voldemort also knew he was absolutely fucked. Harry enjoyed the horror in those cherry red eyes and smirked.

Dumbledore stirred finally, looking up at Harry with clear blue eyes as Harry switched his gaze back to the other God.

"I should feel sorrow." He murmured, blood flecking his face like freckles.

Harry saw no emotion on his face.

"No. No you shouldn't. A human would." Harry said simply.

Dumbledore nodded once and stood, the corpse of Gellert Grindewald dropping delicately to the ground. Standing next to Harry he knew they clashed perfectly. Black to white, light to dark. Whereas Harry's magic wrapped behind him like a giant pair of the darkest wings, Dumbledore's shrouded him like the lightest of cloaks.

"Hermione." Harry called softly, barely a whisper, but it struck through the silent air like a whip.

"Yes?" The girl asked stepping forwards, the only one moving in the sea of stunned statues.

Harry held out a hand and a dagger appeared, log and simple.

"Finish it off please."

"Yes." She agreed taking the dagger with absolutely no hesitance.

She turned and both sides watched avidly as she walked up to Peter Pettigrew. The fat balding man just stared at her, something holding him in place as it did everyone else.

"I dedicate the darkness to Harry, my lord and watcher. I dedicate the once light to Dumbledore, my god."

And then she slammed the blade into Wormtail's chest, straight through his heart. For a moment there was a deep silence. And then the magic roared. Hermione's magic flared a brilliant white, letting all know her alignment, before it burst out, destroying Pettigrew in a mix of black and white showing the light he had once been and the darkness he had seeped his soul in. With his death the ancient magic of the ritual came to an end the whole world lit up brilliantly as all the magic in the area flared.

.-.

"What now?"

Harry looked over at Dumbledore who was himself looking over the field of men and women all unconscious and glowing from the excess magic in the air.

"Now," Harry said, "You can go back into Hogwarts and teach again, or you could become Minister of magic, or you could retire to a nice country manor and start up some hobby."

Dumbledore snorted but there was no mirth in it.

"And you?"

"I'm going to my kingdom. It's a pretty little forest near the border of Scotland. I'm going to make it flourish with darkness, and all my people shall have a home there."

Dumbledore glanced at him with almost eerie clear blue eyes.

"Shall you ever emerge from it?"

"Of course I shall." Harry smiled. "I won't lock myself away. I shall visit you even if you wish."

"...I would. You do know Hermione is mine."

"Yes. But I know you shall look after her."

They stood another long moment in silence.

"I must go bury Gellert." Dumbledore said.

"Because you loved him?" Harry taunted.

"Partially as a tribute to my time as a human, but mostly because a beloved leader of the light would even mourn his enemies."

Harry snorted but watched as he walked to the form of the dead former dark lord. Harry turned as the man crouched and glanced briefly at the spot that was soaked in his blood at the base of the Astronomy tower. Black vines were already twisting form the spot and Harry could imagine bloody red roses on them. Turning back to the armies that lay sprawled on the ground he leaned over and plucked Voldemort and Lucius (who had ran down to see what had happened to the lord he had killed) up, one on each shoulder.

Looking at the unconscious feared dark lord he smirked.

"We'll piece you together yet Tom."

And then he and all those fully Dark aligned vanished with nary a sound or breathe.

.-.

End of Chp. 22