Nothing is mine.

And here we go.

Who Strives Always to the Utmost, For Him, There is Salvation

Nurmengard's turrets rose from the white-veiled forest into thick falling snow, a host of slim dark spears stabbing up into the soft white clouds.

Harry took a breath of cool, crisp air and watched his breath mist before him. 'Ready, Bella?'

'We're ready!' She beamed and swished her wand. 'We play with Grindelwald, and then, when you've beaten Enni and Chasca, we'll play with him together!' Her purple eyes shone like stars. 'Win or lose, Cousin Harry!'

'I already won. Even if I die, I still win. I made sure it was certain.' He thrust the curved blade of the Spear of Truth into the snow. 'I'll summon this if I need it, so don't do anything with it, Bella. And don't mention we have it with us.'

She giggled into her hands. 'It's a secret. A surprise. Trump cards are meant to be last moment surprises!'

Harry spun the world back past himself, stepping out from under snow-burdened branches into the ice-coated courtyard.

A white blur lunged from the steps.

Harry slashed his wand.

The hazy basilisk smashed Enni back through the doors into the hall.

'Hi Enni!' Bella sang, bouncing on her toes in the snow. 'Bye Enni!'

A soft snap echoed off the walls and turrets.

'Mithras…' Grindelwald stood in the courtyard's far corner, a small sad smile hovering on his lips. 'Our wondrous horror yet yields no bliss, we linger still upon the brink of the abyss.' He brushed snow from the shoulders of his grey coat, the copper buttons of his plum waistcoat flashing in the sun as he drew his wand. 'But this is the moment, as you know, to embrace Death, our final foe.'

Enni prowled from the hall, baring her engraved fangs; the broad blade of her sword resting on her shoulder. Chasca edged out after her, threads of golden magic wriggling from her fingertips.

'Bella.' Harry inclined his head toward Grindelwald. 'Have fun; I won't be long.'

Chasca gulped.

'Yes.' Grindelwald's sombre smile faded. 'Better this way, I daresay.'

Bella skipped forward with a gleeful giggle, hurling pink and purple curses over the snow, but they melted into a cloud of bright motes of golden magic.

Bye Bella.

Harry let the storm swell, casting his heart away into its searing screaming winds, and a spark of amber magic sprang from the ebony tip of his wand.

'Inti's snare!' Chasca cast a web of golden threads forward.

Enni's grip shifted upon her greatsword and she lunged, blurring through the air.

A storm of butterflies burst from the spark of amber, tearing through the net of Chasca's magic and slicing Enni to shreds, scattering her away into the snow.

'Inti's spear!'

A bolt of golden magic slammed into the swirling streaks of amber, but crumbled away into a whirl of golden light.

'Inti's favour might be with you…' Chasca glanced toward Grindelwald and back, raising her trembling wand. 'But I am not just the magicks of the Aclla, Mithras; I learnt both the old ways and the new.'

'I will not be stopped.' Harry caught the fear in her dark brown eyes with a soft pang of pity and let the storm fade. 'Why are you fighting, Chasca? For hope? Or for despair?'

The swirl of searing gold dwindled to nothing.

'Because I am Chasca.' She swept her long dark braids over her shoulder and drew herself up, stomping her red-tasselled boots in the snow. 'Inti's oracle named me lady of the dawn; I am the herald of Inti's return. After the sun disappears and a world ends, I will help bring back all the light and life of Inti's grace to our lives.'

'Dawn,' Harry murmured. 'Go home, Chasca.'

'But I am Chasca,' she whispered. 'I am the first touch of Inti's light upon the world. And the prophecy of Inti's oracle is not fulfilled. The sun is not gone. A world has not ended.'

Yes she is. Harry swallowed a fierce, bitter pang. She's gone. And their world has ended. I've already won.

'It is.' Wry raw humour tugged at the corner of his mouth as bittersweet certainty settled on him. 'It's me.'

The sphinx knew; it knew all along.

'Mithras.' Chasca swallowed. 'But…'

'Go home. You'll see the dawn; je te le promets.' Harry turned away from her and strode through the snow.

Grindelwald stood in the courtyard's far corner, slim ribbons of golden flame rippling from the tip of his wand, and at the end of Bella's footsteps, a small pool of fire flickered and danced in the snow.

'You may go, Chasca.' The small sad smile flitted across his face. 'Whether what follows now is harshest dawn or direst horror, you have played your part; leave with honour.'

Nobody should die for nothing.

A loud crack tore through the snow-swept courtyard.

'Who strives always to the utmost, for him, there is salvation.' Grindelwald swept his wand up and the ribbons snaked aloft. 'So let us see which of the two of us has the purest determination.'

If I die and don't see the dawn, I deserve it. There's nothing left. Nothing to fear.

Harry took a deep breath and poured himself into the storm, let its swelling scream swallow him up, let its searing winds snatch his heart away and slice it apart with burning hot, bittersweet blades.

Golden butterflies streamed from his wand, streaking around him in a circle, swirling faster and faster, a silent amber storm.

It swept the golden ribbons aside and scattered them like fallen leaves, scorching the snow from the stone, stripping the outer walls from the mountainside and scouring the great hall from the bare rock.

She stepped from it, breathing in all the storm like a mouthful of smoke, wearing its rage as a shivering gown of golden flame.

Fleur. All the light. All the life. A thick hot lump swelled in Harry's throat and bitter guilt ripped deep through his heart. Always.

Nurmengard crumbled from her outstretched fingertips; the turrets toppled into a storm of amber flame, swirling around her as she shrank to a familiar small figure and tottered toward him across the bubbling, glowing molten stone.

Look at you.

Her beaming smile blazed bright and warm as the light of dawn pouring through the cupboard keyhole.

Look at how beautiful you are, baby bird. Warm tears blurred on Harry's lashes and trickled down his cheeks. Of course you're the dawn.

A small sad smile hovered on Grindelwald's lips. 'An absolute will to change the world possesses such terrible grace.' He flourished his wand, his bright sharp blue eyes swimming with sorrow. 'But, my brother in arms, you forget; we share this dream you chase.'

The figure of golden fire froze, melting into a pool of golden flame and rising in countless streams of small amber sparks. They shone like stars above Harry's head, glimmering before the looming silhouette of Nurmengard's last and tallest turret.

'Strange, that after all these years of careful restraint, I now give all I am without complaint,' Grindelwald said. 'But of all those whose hearts I have put to the test, yours, I think, is among the best.'

Slim copper ribbons snaked from Grindelwald's wand; their razor sharp edges and curved tips gleamed as they spread like wings behind him.

Harry clawed for magic, but only emptiness hung within.

There's nothing left, just Suleiman's sword. His heart sank. I'm sorry, if I don't get to see the sun rise for you. Harry cut it free into the endless numb at the eye of the storm as the golden stars hung overhead. But I kept my promises. And either way, I deserve to disappear.

'What was her name?' Grindelwald's free hand brushed the breast pocket of his plum waistcoat. 'I would not have a single one missing from this list, so I, at least, will remember they played their part.'

'Katie.' Harry forced the bitter weight of her name past the sharp thorns of guilt and off his tongue. 'Katrina Delacour. She didn't die because of you.'

I did it. I ruined it all. But I promised it wouldn't be for nothing. He thrust out his left hand and clawed up a drop of magic, wrenching for the Spear of Truth. And I swore. No more secrets. Not anymore.

The smooth cold bone hilt of the curved blade slapped into his palm.

Harry tore the sheath away and dropped it into the snow, clenching his fist around the sword. Burning pain bit into his hand and warm crimson trickled through his fingers.

Change.

Sword and sheath melted into glowing silver and flowed into a shining spear, releasing a flood of shimmering haze.

The golden stars guttered out.

Harry slipped his wand into his sleeve and watched the cut creep closed as he strode across the ruined courtyard.

'You kept the blade; I thought you might.' Grindelwald tucked his wand away inside his grey coat and straightened his waistcoat with a gentle tug, but the curved tips of the ribbons curled in toward Harry like closing talons. 'I think it better that of the two of us, I endure; for the temptations of a man as old as I are short-lived. But if it is not to be so; instead, let Britain and France learn their great enemy is dead.'

'You intended for Britain and France to win, but for the balance of power to be held by the ICW,' Harry said. 'I wondered if you did. You could just disappear into the shadows, relying on the ICW to do what has to be done with only a little influence from yourself when needed.'

'And if not needed, forever. A spectre of war and horror finally banished from a world with the will to save itself. In truth, there is a small selfish corner of my heart that now craves defeat; by your hand or mine, the evil worked for greater good is near complete.'

The copper ribbons flashed forward.

Harry swung the spear.

White-hot pain tore through him, a throbbing flood of agony pouring in searing waves of pain from the metal tendrils impaling his stomach, legs and left arm. Blood soaked his robes, gushing down to spatter on the rocks and the two severed copper ribbons at his feet.

Keep fighting. He dragged his jagged, scattered thoughts back together through the hot fog of agony. Every second of pain counts. Every sacrifice.

Harry wrapped his arm around the rest of the ribbons and clutched them tight, clinging on through a wave of burning pain as they yanked at him.

Maybe it will take both of us to see the sun rise.

He sheared them off with a single swing of the Spear of Truth and let them slide through red-stained, bleeding fingers to the ground.

Grindelwald drew his wand once more. 'You will die from those wounds if you don't release the magic of that weapon to heal yourself. And if you release it…'

'I won't die for a minute.' Harry clenched his jaw and staggered forward, clutching the spear tight as his head spun, seized by a strange lightness. 'It's just pain. I made a promise. No more secrets.'

Grindelwald measured the steps between them and smiled. 'The blood-stained laurel of victory,' he murmured, letting his wand slip through his fingers. 'At last.'

Harry forced his numb legs a step closer.

'I bequeath you this, Mithras.' Grindelwald reached into his breast pocket, pulling out his little black book. 'One small blood-soaked scrap of history's canvas; it is missing but a single name — I never could find the pride to add my own. And, before I go, I wish you well, until, perhaps in some distant place I cannot imagine, we meet again, and hope your sisters forgive you as Albus forgave me.'

It doesn't matter if they do.

'I think the sun will rise soon, and when it does, I will watch it for us all.' Harry wrapped both hands tight around the spear and stumbled one more step. 'And then, I feel like I might just disappear.'

A faint smile flitted across Grindelwald's lips; he placed the book down on the ground and sat beside it. 'Auf Wiedersehen, Henri.'

Harry drove the spear through Grindelwald's heart with a soft wet metal whisper, wrenching it free in a gush of red. His legs gave as the light faded from Grindelwald's eyes, pitching Harry to his knees in the blood.

I don't need you anymore. He dropped the spear beside Grindelwald's body and it melted back into a curved sword. And maybe now all his Greater Good is gone, it—

A searing golden flash shattered Nurmengard's tallest turret, showering the mountainside with chunks of stone.

It worked. The breath slipped from Harry's lips; a flash of gold washed through his thoughts and across the world, a wave of warm light as bright as dawn breaking over green, summer fields of wildflowers. I kept my promise. It's done.

A strange emptiness settled on him as he stared up through the snow; all the clouds and the sprawling debris drifted off into the distance, the blazing, white-hot pain throbbing through him fading into them.

'I suppose now I just disappear…' He forced his numb right arm out and picked the book up. 'Like everyone else in here has.'

Names don't matter. Harry pushed through the pages with cold, unfeeling fingers; hundreds of names in neat, looped rust-brown writing blurred by. All that matters is what you mean to do.

He slipped his wand from his sleeve and charmed Grindelwald's name at the very end in tired rough scrawl, tucking the book back into Grindelwald's hands. 'You keep it. Maybe they won't hate you quite so much when they see.'

But they probably will; they want all their problems solved without having to do anything or feeling bad about the cost, even where there are no easy solutions.

A series of loud cracks rang out across the ruins and a shimmer of wards fell over him.

Harry dragged his eyes up.

A line of red jackets and mirrored visors stepped from the trees into the thick swirling snow.

You couldn't just let me disappear. Well, I'm not being locked away like Grindelwald for ages. He pressed the tip of his wand to the deep stab wound in his stomach. They'd better kill me or let me escape.

Harry dragged the dregs of his magic together. 'Vulnera… sanentur.'

The stab wounds crept closed and a little life trickled back into him.

'Mithras.' Neville stepped through the line, his wand clutched tight in his fist. 'Surrender your wand and place both your hands flat upon your shoulders.'

Neville. He won't kill me. Or let me escape.

'That's Grindelwald,' one of them hissed. 'Grindelwald is dead.'

'Where is Nurmengard?!' Another muttered. 'Nearly the whole place is gone, just like Beauxbatons is.'

Neville stared at the still body and the curved blade. 'Greengrass died in Italy yesterday; whatever she planned must've fallen apart.' He pointed his wand at the pool of blood. 'But that's not frozen, which means he's not been dead long, and your robes are covered in your own blood. You must be exhausted.'

I am. Harry let himself feel the weight of his weariness, a vast dark dragging numbness hanging from him like cold shackles. I spent everything to see the sun rise.

'Surrender your wand,' Neville demanded. 'We won't kill you; you'll stand trial before the ICW for all your crimes.'

A snort of laughter escaped Harry. 'No, I'm fond of my wand and I don't care what the ICW thinks of me; it really just doesn't matter. Go away, Neville.'

Neville raised his wand. 'Take him.'

Red stunning spells rippled from their wands. Harry scraped the last of his magic up and cast his shield, watching their curses burst on the wall of white magic in ripples of crimson colour.

There's no point fighting any of you. He poked at the wards. It's all already done. I don't want to kill anyone for nothing. Never again.

A web of fine threads of magic clung to him like spiders' silk, pinning him in place, spiralling from a point in the sky above.

Someone has tethered me here to be caught or killed. Somehow. He frowned. That locus must have my blood.

'Accio,' Harry murmured.

Fleur's wedding ring slapped into his palm, the threads of his blood shining like shredded ribbons of red rose petals.

'Fleur,' he whispered, clutching the ring to his chest. 'Tu me manques, mon Amour.'

That's why I couldn't find it. Of course it didn't just disappear. Someone took it. But…

The world spun, a dizzying swirl of snow and red sparks.

How would anyone else know about the willow tree or that it's my blood in the ring?

Bright hot hope flooded his heart.

It worked. It all worked. It must have. Harry stared past the spells bursting upon his shield into the shadows beneath the snow-veiled pines. She's alive. All the air slipped from his lungs, ripped away by breathless desperate need. They're both alive.

Her name stuck on the tip of his tongue. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered, hunting for her among the trees. 'Where are you?' Harry snatched the amber mask from his face and tossed it away down the mountain. 'It's me. I kept my promise. And now…' His gaze slipped to the ring cupped in his palms, the tether pinning him in place. 'And now…'

His heart crumbled.

No. Harry clawed it back together. I just have to make her see. When she sees it's perfect enough, she'll understand. As always. He drew himself up. Even if they kill me, I'll come back. Like she did.

'Neville.' Harry's shield flickered and fell, and he swatted two red curses into the snow with a heavy leaden arm. 'I surrender.'

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