*whew!* This week has been absolutely horrible. I've been bombarded with stuff to do for my societies in Uni, as well as being stuck with an injury that makes me unable to run for the foreseeable future. It's also painful as fuck to just walk around. Yes, I'm using the a/n to whine. Yes, I'm sorry. I'll stop now.

SO! This chapter! Gah, I always remember halfway through a story that I really am not good with battle scenes. I think I wrote and re-wrote the last half of this chapter like three times or something. Hopefully you'll all like it, but I apologize in advance if it's horrible!

That out of the way, read on and I hope you enjoy!


Harry looked at Voldemort incredulously. "Engaged? What do you mean? How is that going to help defeat Dumbledore?"

The sudden proposal had come as a complete shock to him, causing him to take a few steps back. The last time they had discussed this topic, they had both agreed that the engagement ritual would be in accordance with traditions, and be performed just a few weeks before the marriage itself. However, now Voldemort was saying that they move the whole thing forward almost five years?!

Sensing Harry's confusion and apprehension, Voldemort quickly sat down, as to lessen the rather harsh way of laying the matter out he had used earlier.

"I know this sounds very foreign to you, Harry, but there is power in rituals such as can help defeat an enemy, granted that the parties involved are magically strong and compatible enough. The engagement ritual will strengthen the bond between us, making the magic shared between our two magical cores flow effortlessly between us. This will be a major advantage in a battle, where we might get separated and where one of us might have to face several enemies at once. The bond will also make us able to sense if the other is in danger, but also make a kind of link between our minds, making us able to communicate with each other mentally. This, however, takes practice and at first, the only communication we will be able to share is scenes or images without sound. However, it will still be highly useful as one of us can simply project an image of their surroundings, and the other will hopefully be able to tell from just that where the other is located."

Slowly realizing the sense in Voldemort's words, Harry waited without saying anything, though his arms were crossed across his chest, as if to say that he was still highly sceptical about this plan.

"My guess is that the Weasley girl will somehow try to convince you to meet her, that she has 'seen the light', so to speak, and is willing to join your side again. Had you not known about this plan, I'm willing to venture a guess that you would have leaped at the opportunity to regain one of your friends, and would have gone out to meet her alone."

Harry chose to ignore this little stab at what Voldemort liked to call his 'misplaced Gryffindor loyalty', and just nodded for the man to go on.

"My plan is to complete the ritual as soon as possible so that when little Ginevra shows up, we will be ready. Outwardly, we will pretend to play along, but I will station my followers all around you. They will obviously be disguised and hidden, but they will provide you with the security needed. At the same time, I will be moving in from the opposite direction, effectively trapping Dumbledore and his Order. If all goes to plan, the confusion will be enough to successfully discard of as many Order members as possible, as well as Dumbledore himself."

Voldemort had now risen again, and paced the floor while his voice grew more and more agitated as he explained. "Of course, I will also give you a portkey so that you can get out quickly if things seem to get out of hand. It will transport you directly to Riddle Manor, which Dumbledore has no way of finding, as I have covered it in magical wards and defences."

This little pause in the man's speech gave Harry the opportunity to chime in. "Okay, let's say that I will agree with this plan of yours. What does the ritual entail, exactly? How much preparation will go into it? Where will we hold it? To me, it seems like rituals such as these usually demand a lot of preparation and forethought. One can't just jump right into them."

A glimmer of pride appeared in Voldemort's eyes, as Harry two weeks ago had had no concept of rituals or what the entailed. Now, however, he was able to rationally consider the hindrances that might get in the way of actually carrying out the plan of bringing Dumbledore down.

"Don't worry, the engagement ritual is nothing like the complex rituals used for more binding contracts, such as marriage or magical vows. It is basically just a ceremonial way of giving each other promises that each person will be loyal to the other until the marriage vows are given, which effectively binds the two together, both magically and officially. The ritual is there mainly so that the magic within us both can recognize the intent proven and cause the bond to grow ever stronger between us. This is done so that, come the day of the marriage, our two magical cores are as good as completely fused and the only thing remaining is for the vows to be given and seal the bond officially."

Nodding slowly, Harry thought about what Voldemort had just told him. At first, he had been upset about this sudden declaration of his, that everything had to be done at once without even asking him what his opinion was. But now, after having been given an explanation, Harry saw the logic behind it. Frankly, he had to admit it would be rather useful.

"Okay, you've convinced me. But won't Dumbledore catch up on the fact that you'll be trapping him? He might be an evil old bastard, but he's not stupid. Despite what he's hoping for, I think that if I were to just jump up the minute I heard from Ginny, he would grow suspicious and be more wary of traps."

"That is certainly a possibility that I have taken into consideration. I never said it would be easy, but it is still the best chance we have to finally get rid of Dumbledore."

Harry froze a little. Suddenly he realized what this plan entailed. If they went through with this it meant that several people would get hurt, or worse, die. All that just so that Voldemort and he would be able to live in peace and so that Voldemort could achieve his goals. When Harry didn't reply, Voldemort cast a quick glance over at him and perfectly read what went on in his mind. After having spent so much time together lately, both of them were much better at understanding the other, even when no word had been spoken.

Without saying anything, Voldemort walked over to the young boy and wrapped his arms loosely around him. "Harry, I know you don't like the thought of people dying, but in this case, it's either them or us. If Dumbledore is allowed to live, he will make sure that no rest will be given either of us until we are both dead. You know this."

Gritting his teeth, Harry fought to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. "I know, I know! But I just find it so hard to believe that that is the only way for us to live in relative peace!"

Voldemort sighed and softly stroked Harry's hair, making the youth relax slightly. "It might be hard to bear with, but please Harry, sometimes you have to look past your own boundaries and do what needs to be done."

With a loud sigh, Harry freed himself from the man's arms and sat down in the armchair again. "I know." He muttered dejectedly, but then he seemed to shake the melancholy mood off, because he straightened his back and looked firmly at Voldemort again.

"So, when is this ritual taking place?"


Dumbledore was grinning while the quill danced across the parchment in front of him. Finally, this was the time when he would, once and for all, dispose of both the Potter boy and the Dark Lord. At the beginning, Harry Potter had simply been a useful pawn, a tool to bring down Voldemort. However, now, when the two of them had paired up, he no longer had a choice. The boy had to be taken care of. Luckily for him, the two youngest Weasley kids had proven very helpful in his quest. Though the boy had unfortunately been captured, Ginevra was still at his beck and call.

Finishing the letter with a quick scribble of his name at the end, Dumbledore rolled it up and tied it to the leg of the owl sitting ready in the window sill. He hadn't reached this far in society by just following the rules. No, this time he would be prepared. Chuckling, he envisaged the shock on their faces when they realized that he had taken them by surprise, that now they were going to die and there was no way to change that.

The headmaster watched the bird fly away into the distance, before he turned around and called for McGonagall. It was time for a certain redheaded girl to do her job.


Hedwig had finally returned after having been at Hogwarts for a few days and, from Hermione was telling him, thoroughly enjoying being spoilt by Hagrid, who seemed to view the snow owl as a substitute for his favourite student.

Harry was now stroking her feathers softly, smiling at the low coos she let out and the rather affectionate glance she threw him. At first, Medusa and Hedwig had not gotten off to a good start. The owl had stooped down to attack the snake the minute the reptile crawled out from the comfort of the bedcovers to see what was going on, and it was only by forcefully grabbing Medusa and putting her safely under his T-shirt that Hedwig stopped her attack. The snake had not been too pleased by the treatment, and Harry had had to apologize profusely for a solid ten minutes before she relented and accepted his apology. The two animals seemed to have reached some kind of tentative truce, but Harry still kept a close watch on them both, just to be safe.

"Hey girl, what do you think? Tonight is going to be the night Voldemort and I take one more step towards the full merging of the bond between us, you know?"

Though Hedwig wasn't able to reply, Harry still felt like she understood him and he felt better voicing his concerns out loud. It cleared his mind and calmed him down. Medusa just hissed something from her hiding place, probably meant to calm him down, but as she had just slightly woken up from her slumber, it sounded more like a soft, unintelligible hissing. Still, Harry appreciated the sentiment.

His contemplation was brought to a halt when someone knocked on the door, and Sirius stepped in without waiting for a reply. The man had been rather upset earlier that day when Harry told him about Voldemort's plan, he believed it was putting Harry in unnecessary danger. Also, he had violently stated his opinions on them performing the engagement ritual so early in their relationship. Because of this, it was understandable that Harry eyed his godfather with some trepidation and motioned for the man to sit down on the bed, though he said nothing.

Sirius sat still for a moment, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring down at his hands, which were folded in front of him. Then he looked up and looked Harry squarely in the eyes.

"Harry, I want to apologize for earlier today. My reaction was unwarranted and unnecessary. Instead of supporting you and guiding you, as a godparent should, I let my own prejudices get in the way and I said some things to you which I would very much like to erase. I apologize and I sincerely hope you will forgive me for what I said. Believe me, I only want what is best for you, but sometimes, I might not know what is best for you, only what I think is best for you. From now on, let me be someone to whom you turn for advice, but please tell me if I make another mistake like the one today."

The pained, heartfelt apology hit Harry deeply and he almost felt his eyes tear up. With one quick, fluid motion he was seated in front of his godfather, his arms around the man's neck and his face buried in his shoulder.

"Don't think about it, Sirius. There's nothing to forgive. You only did what you believed was in my best interest and for that, I'm grateful. However, though I'm still young, I'm able to take decisions on my own."

Sirius smiled fondly and ruffled his head. "I know, cub, I know." Then, with a sudden jolt of energy, he rose and dragged Harry up with him.

"Now, I didn't only come here to apologize. Voldemort sent me to say that everything is ready and that you are to meet him in the entrance hall." Every trace of mirth was wiped from Sirius' face, and was replaced with a strange serious look that seemed alien on him.

The breath hitched in Harry's throat for a moment, but then he nodded. The time was come at last. No more waiting. After this evening, Voldemort and he would be fully prepared to face down Dumbledore and carry out their plan. Hopefully, nothing would go wrong.


They were standing in the middle of a forest grove, the stars were shining from a clear sky and an almost tangible silence cloaked their naked bodies. Harry had been surprised, as well as very uncomfortable, to know that this ritual would be performed 'skyclad', as Voldemort called it. From what he could understand, this was also normal in rituals in the Muggle world as well, within certain pagan worshippers. Now, he was anxiously trying to ignore how the cold breeze made the hairs on his arms stand on edge, as well as decidedly keeping his eyes off Voldemort, which made the older man chuckle.

Lucius was also present, as he was the one to oversee the ritual and make sure everything went according to plan. He was clothed in a simple black robe of a coarse material Harry didn't recognize. The blond now rose from the task he had been busy with, lighting a circle of candles around them, which cast an almost eerie shade on their faces.

"My Lord, Harry, are you ready?" he asked, his face deadly serious.

They both gave a curt, short nod, before stepping forward. Standing in front of a small tree trunk, they turned to face each other and then knelt down so that the trunk was between them. On the wooden surface lay their two wands, positioned so that one lay over the other. Voldemort held out his hands for Harry to take and Harry carefully places his hands in the upturned palms of his fiancée.

Nodding in approval, Lucius then started chanting, a low murmur that seemed to seep into Harry and make his blood rush faster and he could feel his magic tingling, threatening to spill from the tips of his fingers. Closing his eyes, Harry focused on the feeling that slowly started to build up within him. It felt like the core of his being was reaching out, out from the confines of his body and desperately searching for something. With a sudden shock of recognition, those tendrils met those of another one, and Harry felt, with a sudden sense of euphoria, how those strands of magic were seeping into him from the hands offered to him. If he had opened his eyes, Harry would have seen Voldemort's eyes light up with a sudden, overpowering sense of elation, before those red orbs closed to just enjoy the feeling of completeness.

However, the peace did not last. Without warning, a loud shout was heard from the forest and a bright red beam shot towards them. Had it not been for the honed reflexes of Voldemort, who spun around and immediately conjured a magical shield between them and their attackers, they would have both been hurt by the curse.

Suddenly, everything happened at once. From the forest's edge, a group of about seven people rushed forward, with the conspicuous figure of Albus Dumbledore leading the way. It took Harry only a moment to realize what the real trap had been. Of course Dumbledore had expected Ginny to be overheard, it was then only a matter of simple deduction for him to predict what would be Voldemort's next course of action. Since Voldemort valued power over most anything else, a ritual, such as the engagement ritual, which greatly enhanced both his own and Harry's magic, would be his preferred choice. How he had found them, Harry didn't know, but he assumed the headmaster had positioned spies all around the Manor to keep an eye out for any suspicious movements.

Voldemort was still keeping up the shield while continuously firing a string of hexes towards the quickly approaching group of Order members. Harry recognized a few of them with a sting of hurt. Both Arthur and Molly Weasley were there, their faces clearly shone with the desire for revenge for, what they imagined, killing their youngest son. A tall man with an earring who Harry didn't recognize seemed to be one of the more powerful in the group, alongside a rather terrifying man with what seemed to be a bright blue, spinning eye.

Lucius had wasted no time. When his Lord had conjured the shield, he had immediately pressed his wand towards the Dark Mark on his arm, and now the Death Eaters started appearing, one after the other. The furious cackling of Bellatrix Lestrange resounded throughout the clearing and Harry was amazed to see how several of the Order members seemed to hesitate for a moment, uncertainty and fear flickering through their eyes. But then Dumbledore fired another spell, hitting one of the Death Eaters squarely in the chest, causing him to fly several feet, again putting some courage back into his Order.

However, it was evident that the headmaster had underestimated the Dark Lord. Dumbledore had probably accounted for taking Voldemort unawares, in the middle of a ritual where he would be distracted by the magical cores joining. To a certain extent, this was true, but Voldemort had quickly realized the danger and, as the ritual hadn't progressed too far, had still been able to act quickly and with precision.

"Harry, come. We need to get you out of here." Lucius was by his side suddenly, a cloak was wrapped around him and a hand grabbed his arm, trying to pull him away from the towering form of Voldemort, who still hadn't moved a meter, even with the constant bombardment fired at him.

Harry was torn. On one hand, he wanted to stay by Voldemort's side, to fight alongside him and help him. On the other hand, he was still only twelve years old. Compared with the Dark Lord and Dumbledore, he was powerless. There was not much he could do to help, which frustrated him beyond measure. While these thoughts were rushing through his head, a Death Eater hit the ground just two meters away from him. The bone-white mask had slipped off and the dead, empty eyes of Rabastan Lestrange stared back at him. Somehow, this seemed to awaken a raw anger within him, a sudden frustrated rage that Harry had never experienced before. Suddenly he was overcome with the desire to, once and for all, destroy Albus Dumbledore and all he stood for. Blast it all to hell if that meant taking a stand which involved having to kill someone. Regardless of which side he chose, lives would be lost, and Harry would rather stay on the side of the one who didn't lie to him, use him and then discard him when he was no longer of any value to him.

Snatching his arm from Lucius' grip, Harry spun around and stood next to Voldemort. Something within him seemed to guide his actions, an inexplicable urge to touch the tall man overcame him, and Harry obeyed. Being careful not the break the other's concentration, he wrapped his arms around his waist and pressed his palms against the man's bare stomach. He gasped audibly as the same feeling as during the ritual returned, only increased tenfold. Instead of their magic slowly trickling into the other's body, a reservoir seemed to have been opened, and Voldemort's magic rushed into him, for a moment completely stunning him. Luckily, his own magic didn't have the same effect on Voldemort. Instead of being paralyzed by the sudden influx of power, the Dark Lord felt his magic strengthen, double in power and expand to an almost painful degree.

Dumbledore had now fought his way to a point only ten meters from where Voldemort and Harry were standing, and red eyes locked with brilliant blue. Suddenly, the rest of the battleground seemed to fade away, the only thing that remained was the form of the headmaster, his silvery beard and hair flashing about him in the wind.

"Tom, give it up." Dumbledore finally spoke, his first words to them since the start of the battle. "We both know that the Magical world is not suited for your ideals, for your visions. You are bringing us all into unimaginable chaos if you continue. This must end here today, my boy." His voice was silent and Harry recognized it as the voice the headmaster used whenever he intended to convince a pupil or teacher of something.

Voldemort only laughed, a cold, humourless laughter that frightened even Harry.

"You are wasting your efforts, old man. The one who is dying here tonight isn't me, nor is it Harry. Tonight, this forest will become your grave and I will be the one to put you into it."

Harry was watching Voldemort's face as he spoke, and was almost pained by how much hurt, betrayal and anger was etched into the man's features. Harry suddenly realized that this battle for so much more than just a battle between two opposing sides in a political power struggle. To Voldemort, this battle was highly personal, it was his vendetta against someone who had once wronged him and now it was finally time for him to take his just revenge.

Dumbledore's face darkened and he sneered coldly. "You never completed the ritual. You don't have the power to face me as you are now."

"Well, that's were you are wrong. You have underestimated us both then, if you think we are unable to defeat you."

As if guided by an invisible hand, Harry picked up his wand, which had lain forgotten next to the tree trunk, and rose to stand side by side with Voldemort, the tips of their wands both facing directly at the headmaster. Voldemort quickly sent Harry a sideways glance, as if to say 'are you ready?' Harry only nodded without taking his eyes off Dumbledore, who now seemed to sense the danger he was in.

However, before the old man had the chance to do anything, Voldemort grabbed Harry's hand and everything exploded. At least, that's what it looked like for Harry. In actuality, when Voldemort's hand touched his, their magic seemed to respond to the situation they were in and both their cores united against a common enemy. Two brilliant lights shot from each wand, united into one single beam of silver, before it hit Albus Dumbledore with enough force to send him flying halfway across the grove.

Suddenly, the rest of the world returned and Harry saw how the grass was strewn with fallen bodies, both masked and barefaced. However, only two of the Order members were still standing, a pink-haired young woman and the man with the one blue eyes. When he saw their leader hit by the curse from Voldemort's and Harry's wands, he immediately made his way over to his companion and, before either of the remaining Death Eaters had time to react, disapparated.

With the danger now over, Harry felt his knees give out and he sank down unto the soft grass. It felt so unreal. Dumbledore was dead, the Order scattered, Voldemort and he had joined their cores together… He registered that Voldemort was saying something to him, but somehow he was incapable of comprehending his words. Only when strong arms lifted him up was he aware of just how exhausted he was. Relieved that he could finally relax, Harry closed his eyes and rested his head against a familiar, strong shoulder.


SO, what do you guys think?! I hope that wasn't horribly anti-climactic for anyone? Again, battle scenes are not my forte, so I hope it wasn't too bad. I was pretty happy with it in the end, so I hope you will be as well!

I think there's only going to be one, possibly two more chapters coming up! I can't believe that it's already nearing the end. This story is the longest I've ever written and I'm very, very proud of it. All thanks goes to SinoPrisca for giving me this lovely story idea and kicking my butt into writing fanfiction again! It's been so much fun! (and very frustrating, at times :P )