Several emotions swirled inside Harry at once, tightening his chest. The first was terror. It was the graveyard all over again, with Voldemort standing over him, promising to torture Harry until he begged for death. He remembered the Cruciatus all too well. In his mind he had begged to die, anything to stop the pain radiating throughout his body. He remembered hating his own body that it could be so traitorous as to feel something like that, endure it. It wouldn't have taken him long to beg Lord Voldemort.

But thinking of that brought another emotion to the fore. Anger. Anger that Voldemort could so easily use another human being for his games, his goals. It was unthinkable to Harry. And so the rage bubbled up, pushing the terror aside.

Harry slowly rose, clutching the Horcrux tightly in his hand. He non-verbaled a sticking charm, making dead sure that Voldemort couldn't Accio it. His wand was in his free hand. He moved protectively in front of a terrified Draco and stared at Voldemort. No, there was nothing left of the human in him. His eyes were red, his face snakelike with its tiny pinched nostrils and a mouth with serrated teeth. There was nothing of the handsome Tom Riddle he had once seen in the Chamber of Secrets.

Voldemort smiled or seemed to, but Harry could tell he was seething.

"How did you get into Hogwarts? No one can Apparate."

"No. I didn't Apparate. I walked in the front doors."

"How--!"

"Simple, my Harry. I lured the Squib Filch to the gate and Imperioed him to let me in. I Confounded him and Obliviated him and strolled the grounds as if I belonged. So simple."

"So...why didn't you just do that before?"

"Storm the gates with my Death Eaters? I have since discovered how much easier it is simply working alone. As loyal as they are, they are foolish little beings compared to me."

"Doesn't anyone mean anything to you? Oh. Except maybe Nagini. Lost your little pet, did you?" said Harry, unable to restrain himself from taunting him.

Voldemort lost all pretense of smiling and lunged forward, looking for all the world as if he would grab Harry with his bare hands. But then he stopped himself and drew up again. "My, my but you have become a nuisance, Harry Potter. I had no idea how much of a nuisance you would actually be."

"Well, Tom," he pronounced clearly, watching Voldemort's reaction to the mention of his hated Muggle name. "It's your fault, actually. If you hadn't chosen my family as part of this stupid Prophecy, if you hadn't killed my parents and pissed me off so royally, I wouldn't have been here annoying you. So you've only yourself to blame."

The ridges on his forehead rose. Harry supposed those used to be his eyebrows but he had long since lost those along with the rest of his humanity. "The Prophecy?" he hissed. Harry wasn't certain if he said it in Parseltongue or not. His red eyes narrowed. "You know it?"

"Yep. One other thing you're behind on, I'm afraid. Want to hear the whole thing? I suppose it would do no harm now. Let's see. It goes like this: The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

Voldemort froze. His eyes glared at Harry but his gaze seemed far away. Yeah, thought Harry. That's it. You've just realized your mistake, Mr. Scaly. "You did it. You decided. I never would have decided to do you in, you stupid prat! It's all your fault!"

But at last, Voldemort turned his face to Harry and he seemed pleased. Harry swallowed nervously. Shit. What now?

"And so," said Voldemort in an oily tone reminiscent of Snape. "I have marked you as my equal." He smiled. The weird teeth made it even more reptilian. "Let us see just how equal you can be, Harry." He flicked his wand upward and cast a nonverbal.

But Harry had been ready for this for some time and dived out the way, grabbing Draco by the robe and taking him down too. He brought up his own wand. "Petrificus Totalus!"

But like a master swordsman, Voldemort flicked his wand and parried the curse aside. Harry scrambled to his feet and dragged Draco with him behind a trophy case.

"Ah, Draco Malfoy! My little deserter. I had great plans for you, Little Dragon. But you chose Harry Potter instead. In a filthy sodomizing relationship, I might add. And you call yourself a Pureblood. I'm certain your dear father is ashamed. But I will deal with him soon enough."

That meant at least that Lucius was alive. Did it also mean that Dumbledore had survived as well? Harry was sure Voldemort would have bragged about killing them if he actually had. It gave Harry hope.

"Pureblood? Ha! That's funny coming from you, Tom!"

"I am Lord Voldemort, whelp!"

"No you're not," taunted Harry, stalling for time while he furious thought of something to do. "You're just Tom Riddle, son of a Muggle. You're a Half-blood. You're not any better than I am. So hey, Tom. I guess that makes you my equal, doesn't it?"

The trophy case suddenly exploded and Harry had enough time for a split-second shield charm covering himself and Draco.

Draco was white as a sheet. He had to get Draco out of here but he couldn't think of a ruse. He also had to destroy this Horcrux. He felt the tug of an Accio more than once, and he didn't want Voldemort to figure out to Accio him as well. Harry removed the sticking charm, aimed his wand at the trophy, and nonverbally incanted, Incendio! The trophy caught fire and began to quickly melt.

"NO!!" Voldemort aimed his wand, and Harry rolled out of the way with Draco, but he lost his grip of the Slytherin and Draco fell backwards. Harry panicked as Draco fell within Voldemort's line of fire. He cast a shield charm on him and it gave Draco enough time to scramble behind another trophy case and cower. But now he was at the opposite side of the room from Harry.

The Horcrux melted completely and suddenly, it blew up a black plume of smoke which Harry was certain looked like a skull before it dissipated into nothing.

Voldemort screamed something incomprehensible. Maybe it wasn't words at all. But Harry knew that this was it. Voldemort was just as vulnerable as Harry was. They truly were equals now.

He glanced at Draco again. Draco was a liability to him. He knew that now. As long as he worried about him and tried to protect him, he would remain on the defensive and he simply couldn't afford to do that.

Something lumpy in his pocket gave him pause. Of course! He reached in and grabbed the object. "Draco!" he hissed.

While Draco looked up at Harry, Harry counted, "One...two-" and tossed the stone to his lover, praying that he would catch it. "Three!"

As soon as Draco caught the stone he instantly vanished. Harry breathed easier. Not only would Draco be safe but he could alert the rest of the school. Hopefully, everyone would have the sense to stay out of this room.

Harry clutched his wand in his hand. So much was going through his head. What would be the best way to dispatch the Dark Lord? How could he get a shot in without Voldemort putting up a shield? And how could he employ that power the Dark Lord knows not?

"I made a promise to you once, Harry Potter." His voice was chilling and suddenly a bit of that terror crept back into Harry's heart, clutching it with a cold hand. Lucius Malfoy had only taught Harry a few new hexes and shields He was really no match for Voldemort. With a surge of panic he worried all over again that he couldn't possibly defeat him.

"Do you remember?" asked the Dark Lord, coming closer, taking his time. "In the graveyard? Do you remember my telling you that I would make you beg for death? I haven't forgotten."

"Yeah. That was nice your threatening a fourteen year old boy. Big of you."

"But you are my equal, remember? You said so yourself. My equal. And so you must know as many spells and hexes and curses as I do. Correct?"

"B-but I have the power the Dark Lord knows not."

"Indeed. And just what is that power...Harry?"

Harry scooted backwards, searching for a way out. But the exit was behind Voldemort. There was another way out of this room. He knew it. He couldn't remember. "Well...if I told you, then you'd know, wouldn't you?"

"I'm going to enjoy toying with you. I have seen how my Death Eaters have tortured to insanity those who opposed me. But I have never actually tortured anyone to death. I think in your case I should enjoy that immensely."

Bugger. "That's...that's kind of insane, don't you think?"

"No. Not really." Voldemort was coming closer. He really did want to draw this out. "What is sanity, in any case? It is only perception. Much like truth, or right and wrong. Perception, Harry. These are all valuable lessons I am imparting to you. Pity that you will not be able to use them."

"Lessons from you? No thanks." Then Harry remembered something. Hermione had taught him this one. A Mirror Charm. He could never quite get it right in Transfigurations, but perhaps now might be the time to try it. Make a mirror image of yourself. If he could distract Voldemort in the other direction, Harry could bolt for the door. It was worth a try.

"Specchio!" he whispered. He prayed, then got up and ran for the door. At the same time, another "Harry" got up and ran in the opposite direction, almost in front of Voldemort. Voldemort took the bait and aimed his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!"

So much for tortured to death. The spectral Harry vanished, but the real Harry had already made it out the door. He ran hell for leather, not knowing just where he was going. Curses hissed over his head and sizzled against the wall, causing paintings to catch fire. The portraits screamed and many of the burnt painting's inhabitants fled to other paintings.

That's done it! If Draco hadn't told everyone by now, then the paintings surely would.

All at once, Harry caught sight of all the ghosts of Hogwarts threading through the walls. He looked back as he passed them, and they made a beeline for Voldemort. Harry hadn't seen that many ghosts since Nearly Headless Nick's party, but there was Nick in the lead. Moaning Myrtle, the Bloody Baron, even Peeves was there. Voldemort swiped at them with his wand and then a spell blasted from it and scattered the ghosts. What spell could do that? Harry instantly felt out of his league. Shit!

He kept running, furiously trying to think of a plan. He ran down the corridor filled with suits of armor and as soon as he made it past them, they began to clank off of their platforms. Wielding swords, maces, and halberds, the formless knights faced Voldemort. Harry slowed to watch, amazed that the castle itself was coming to his rescue.

Voldemort stopped, seeming momentarily confused. A knight swung his axe and Voldemort leaped out of the way. Mortal at last, he well knew he couldn't afford to get hurt. He aimed his wand and the suit exploded. But another knight stepped up behind him with a sword. Meanwhile, the scattered and exploded suit was slowly reassembling itself. Voldemort dispatched the next knight and noticed the first suit's transformation. He actually looked troubled by this. Harry was gaining more hope by the second. Could it be that Hogwarts itself would defeat him?

Voldemort cast a wider spell, and all at once all the knights were laid low. They weren't moving and Harry suddenly realized that neither was he. He sped off again, cursing Voldemort's abilities.

He reached the staircases and suddenly curses whizzed passed his head, aiming for his pursuer. He looked up and saw his fellow students, all shielding themselves behind the stone balusters, and shooting hexes at Voldemort, even as some of the staircases moved. Dumbledore's Army!

Harry wasted no time to watch it. He ran toward the Great Hall. There was still no plan but he knew that something would come to him. It was as if the Founders were coming to his aid, giving him chances to get away, to stall.

There was a lot of yelling behind him in the stairwell. He knew Voldemort was shooting hexes at his friends and he only hoped that they would all be safe.

Someone came around the corner and Harry's wand was ready with an Avada Kedavra on his lips. But when he saw that it was Draco he lifted his wand to the ceiling, redirecting the curse. It burnt a hole in one of the beams.

"Draco! What are you doing here? Get out quick before he comes!"

"I'm ready for him," he said unsteadily. "I have the potion, Harry." And he ducked behind the huge doors.

But Harry didn't want Draco anywhere near him. There was nothing he could do when Voldemort screeched around the corner and spotted Harry in the Hall. He smiled and stepped forward triumphantly. And just as he cleared the door, Draco pulled out a bright green water pistol and aimed it in an unsteady hand toward Voldemort's face. He squeezed the trigger and let loose a long stream of potion. It hit Voldemort square in the cheek and he whipped his head around, getting a full dose in his face. He glared daggers at Draco and Draco lowered his arm. The pistol was empty and the potion didn't look as if it was taking any kind of effect.

Give it a moment, Harry admonished himself.

"Do you think you're paltry potions can effect me?" He waved his wand and Draco flew up and smacked hard against the stone wall.

"DRACO!" Harry took a step toward him, but reined himself in. He seethed. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Oh really? Just wait. You can watch helplessly as I torture your dear Draco and then you can watch him die in a most painful way. Before you suffer the same fate."

"Funny how you keep saying that. And yet, here I am, seventeen years later from when you first tried to kill me. Not a very good track record, is it?"

Voldemort was done playing games. He screamed his curse and the fiery red light snapped from his upraised wand. Harry raised his and was surprised when his block actually worked.

"Harry!"

Harry glanced toward the door and saw Ron and Hermione running toward him. "Stay back!" he yelled. Hermione was taking something from her pocket and she flung it at Harry. It grew as it sailed toward him and he caught it deftly in his left hand as if it were a Snitch. It grew to its natural proportions and Harry realized it was the Sorting Hat.

The Hat sized up the situation. "You're going to need help, boy."

"No kidding!"

He was about to toss it aside when something occurred to him. It had helped him in the Chamber of Secrets. Perhaps, if the Founders had put a bit of themselves into the Hat maybe he could get something out of it. After all, the Hat was able to read thoughts to sort students into their proper house. Maybe it went both ways and there was enough of the Founders to give back a little thought or two. Harry felt a little foolish, but he put the Hat on his head.

"Now that's using your head," said the Hat, gratified.

Suddenly, Harry felt very strange. Spells began to occur to him which he was certain he had never learned. He didn't question it. He didn't speak the spells. He just threw his wand arm forward and coloured light jetted out of it and chains wrapped themselves about Voldemort. Voldemort looked at the chains around him and tried a few spells, but the chains held him fast. Harry almost laughed out loud in relief.

But then the chains melted off of the Dark Lord as if they were only painted on. "Interesting, Harry," he said as the last of the chains dissolved from him. "Can you counter this?"

And a spell sped toward Harry. Before he could raise a shield, something else occurred to him and he incanted an unknown spell. The light froze in place right in front of Harry but didn't touch him. He found that he could walk around it, in fact, studying the frozen spell for a moment before it collapsed and dispersed.

Voldemort was furious. "Accio Sorting Hat!"

It whipped off Harry's head and sailed toward Voldemort. Harry's heart sank. It hadn't occurred to him to put a sticking charm on it. That Hat had been a good weapon. But before Voldemort could grasp it, a red streak flew by and snatched it first.

"Fawkes!" Harry was never so happy to see the Phoenix as he was now. Well, perhaps he was just as happy to see it in the Chamber of Secrets. Fawkes flew out a high window and Harry was certain Voldemort wasn't going to get hold of him or the Hat.

Voldemort cast about for weapons or something and his eye fell on Draco recovering in the corner. He smiled that horrible inhuman grin, and ran over to Draco, grabbed his arm, and yanked him to his feet. He pressed his wand to Draco's head. "And now, my dear Harry. You will drop your wand or you will see your lover die horribly."

Harry's breath caught. No! Draco looked up at Voldemort, terror grimacing his features. But he turned to Harry and his face changed. Imperceptively, Harry saw him shake his head.

"What will it be, Harry? Your death? Or his? I will make yours swift. I promise. Drop the wand."

Everything seemed to decelerate. It was as if a TimeTurner had slowed Time itself. Voldemort had a death grip on Draco's wrist, and Draco was looking at Harry, terrified but resigned. He didn't want Harry to drop his guard. But how could Harry let Draco die? How could he drop his wand? If he did then maybe no one could stop Voldemort. It was up to him, wasn't it? He looked at the face of his lover-perhaps for the last time and knew he had to decide.

He walked slowly forward his wand still in his hand. Voldemort pressed his painfully to Draco's temple. Draco winced. "Don't do it, Harry," Draco cried out. "It...it doesn't matter what happens to me. You know that! Don't-"

"Silencio," said Voldemort and Draco was struck dumb.

Harry moved closer, his trainers, squeaking along the stone floor.

"You can't hope to win, Harry. I am more powerful than you. I have years and years training over you. You're just a boy with nothing but a stick of wood. Drop it. Your death will be quick. Won't it be a relief at last? No cares, no troubles. Isn't this what was meant for you all along?"

"You are more powerful than me," said Harry, voice choking. He stood no more than a few feet away now. But his eyes were only on Draco. "Why then, if you have all this power, do you use it for hate and death? What good is all of it if all you have is yourself?"

"You don't understand true power, Harry. You never have."

"No. I don't," he said quietly. He was aware of all the people standing in the entry. He saw a shimmer of power for the first time blocking the archway preventing the others from acting. Voldemort was doing that at the same time he was calmly talking to Harry. True power. Yes, Voldemort had it in abundance. What made Harry think he could ever win over that?

"I don't understand," he said, eyes now filling with tears. It was almost a relief that it would be over soon. He could not make himself drop his wand but he felt it lowering. He was going to die. He knew it. It was finally going to be over. And he would never know, or maybe wouldn't even care who won in the end. Maybe the war would keep raging, or maybe Voldemort would kill all those who meant anything at all to him. But at least it would be over for Harry.

His one regret was Draco. He loved him. He really did. He looked at the tearstained face of his lover, recalling their whispered words of passion, their touches, their shared embraces. He loved Draco as he had never loved anything, and suddenly the feeling rose up in him and caused a warm lump to close his throat. He loved him. And Draco loved him just as much. That feeling was the most wonderful imaginable. Better than all the orgasms combined. Better than cold water to a thirsty throat. Better than food to a starving man. Better than air to breathe. Better than...than...anything he could possibly imagine.

He looked at Draco and Draco looked back at him with perfect understanding. And then Draco did something that Harry would never forget. Despite the blood from his impact with the stone wall, despite the tears marring his face, despite Voldemort's wand tip pressed painfully to his temple...Draco smiled.

Harry raised his wand. He didn't even really know why, but as he did, Voldemort, instead of hurting Draco, lifted his wand toward Harry. Harry didn't even know what spell he himself was incanting but he recognized that flash of green from Voldemort's wand speeding toward him. But just like in the graveyard, their wands' magic joined. The air sizzled with power and the streams of magic flared brightly. Harry felt the power heaving through Voldemort's wand and his own wand began to tremble. Beads of power surged toward him through the beams and like before, Harry concentrated hard on them, trying to push them back toward Voldemort.

But unlike the last time, it wasn't working.

Desperately, Harry held to his wand with both hands, watching helplessly as the beads approached his wand's tip. I can't lose. I can't!

But he was. Voldemort's killing curse was thrumming toward him and there didn't seem to be a damned thing he could do about.

He lifted his eyes to Draco one last time. Draco's eyes were fixed on Harry. Harry knew the curse would reach him at any moment and he held it off with all his might. "I love you, Draco," he whispered.

"I love you, Harry," he saw him mouth, for he could not hear him over the crackling of magic all around them.

But suddenly, something enormous burst from Harry's chest. It was brighter than the sun but he could still look into it. The same burst from Draco and both sets of light met in the middle of both wand's magic and glowed even brighter. The beads of power stopped right before Harry's wand tip and with an abrupt burst of speed, reversed direction and shot into Voldemort's wand. The Dark Lord had only a moment to look at his glowing wand before there was a cry such as Harry had never heard. It might have been the dying howl of a Basilisk, or the braying of a werewolf, or even the Parseltongue call of a dying serpent. But the light-already burning like the sun-brightened even further until it exploded into a thousand lighted shards-and with it exploded one Dark Lord, who could not stand the brightness of Love: the power the Dark Lord knows not-and the last of his soul was shattered and released into the ether. There remained nothing of him. Nothing except a charred wand and a dark, smoking stain on the stone floor.

Draco fell to his knees as did Harry and suddenly, Harry was surrounded by people. Harry looked at his wand. It was charred and smoldering.

All the voices sounded so far away. He could see the people were touching him but he could not seem to feel them. He tried to crawl toward Draco but he was swallowed by blackness instead.


On to Part Seven
"The Epilogue"

Back to Part Five
"Horcrux"

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