9.

‘I am completely crazy,’ Harry berated himself as he stood behind a pillar in a long unused hangar. But inside, he knew. Severus had been right. He had to put an end to this war, once and for all. And yet, he thought he would be dead before he could raise his wand. His heart was beating in his throat. This waiting was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life.

He wasn’t sure the Potions Master’s plan would work, but he didn’t have any better ideas, so he complied. But he was afraid. And this was so unfamiliar. The fear had left him, when those people he had cared about had left him. For a long time, he had thought life meant nothing to him. But now, standing and waiting for his end, he suddenly didn’t want to die. Severus had told him so many things he had never known about the wizarding world, his distant relatives, the Weasleys, who still loved him, Hermione, who was deserted in that hospital room, Neville, who was still a blunderer and missed Harry whom he counted as his best friend, Hagrid, who had been broken since Harry’s sudden disappearance, McGonagall, who had had so many quarrels with Dumbledore about the way the Headmaster had treated Harry… So many people, who cared for him, who wanted to see him again, and Harry now closed his eyes and thought about tea in Hagrid’s hut with those horrid cakes, of Fred and George and their jokes, yes, he missed those jokes too.

Snape – no, Severus, he corrected himself – had told him that he had to return to Britain and put his things in order with Dumbledore too and discover the normal life under a disguise if he wanted – he would help him, he said.

‘You are a fool, if you thought it would be over just because you left and waved good-bye, Potter. No one can forget the past. And you are not allowed to forget it. You have to face it, to deal with it and go on. You aren’t a Gryffindor for nothing!’

Again, Harry couldn’t decide whether Snape had insulted him or not, but it wasn’t important. He knew the older man had been right. He had to face his demons, every demon, and if the day before he had been able to face the worst memories of his life, today Voldemort couldn’t be so bad.

Sudden cracks sounded from the different parts of the hangar, and Harry was sure that there were Death Eaters outside the building too. He counted in himself. One, two… Eleven. Eleven cracks inside. One of them was Voldemort, he knew, he recognised his magical signature easily, just like the monster realised his – it was Harry’s magic that had called the dark wizard to this place. His pulse quickened. This would be the end. To conquer his growing fear, he thought of his beloveds, people he cared, he had cared for.

His loveling and his son, Heather, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Sirius, Remus, his parents, Cedric and many others, who had been not so close to him, but were dead. He owed them. When he shut his eyes for a moment, he felt as if they were standing at his back supporting him, whispering encouraging words into his ears—

‘I love you, Harry. I always will,’ his loveling’s words.

‘I’m proud of you, son. You became a wonderful person,’ his father said.

‘Don’t forget that my love will always protect you,’ his mother whispered.

‘You did it before, mate. You can do it now.’ Harry almost saw Ron’s grin.

‘You conjured a Patronus when you were thirteen. You’ll do it.’ It was Remus.

‘Even if I hate that snivelling git, Harry, you have to know that he’s right. You have to kill that monster, and you have to go on. You still have work to do in your life. We have time and we’ll wait for you, and you mustn’t hurry. Take your time. Live your life to the fullest. If you love us, you’ll do that.’

“Sirius,” Harry whispered and tears ran down his face. “I’m so sorry…”

‘None of our deaths was your fault, Harry.’ Harry swore he SAW Cedric standing next to him, leaning forward a little bit. ‘Don’t blame yourself. Go. Don’t look back. Let us go.’

Harry nodded and peaked out of the shadow of the pillar. He saw nobody in the empty centre. The hangar seemed as empty as it had been a few minutes ago. The soft rustling of robes he had heard before ceased too.

It was time. Harry looked at the wand in his hand with worry. It wasn’t his, and even if he could use it, it didn’t really answer his will. But it didn’t matter. He pointed the smooth stick at his throat.

‘Sonorus,’ he whispered and knew that his voice would fill the whole hangar so that nobody could find out his precise place, and the black robes he wore made him like the other Death Eaters in the building. ‘You didn’t come alone, Tom,’ he said, his voice thundered in the big, empty hangar.

Soon, another voice answered his.

‘Why? Did you come alone?’ it asked, taunting.

‘Of course. I thought we could finally finish this stupid war. You know the prophecy, don’t you?’

‘You or me.’

‘Precisely. I’m willing to duel with you, but with one condition.’

Mad laughter sounded in the silence. ‘And what would be that condition?’

‘Your servants will be not allowed to interfere in any way.’

More laughter. ‘Do you really want to die, Potter?’

‘Swear or I leave you here.’

‘You can’t leave without me following you.’

‘There’s a Portkey to Hogwarts in my hand. If you don’t accept my terms, I will return to Dumbledore and next time we meet I’ll not be alone against you.’ It wasn’t a trick: Severus’s emergency Portkey was in his hand, and even thought he didn’t want to use it he held it tight.

There was a long silence, and Harry could have sworn that he heard Voldemort’s thoughts racing. What if Potter really had the Portkey? What if he would lose the chance to face the younger man alone? Dumbledore was too dangerous an adversary to risk a duel with the two of them. What if the whole situation was a trap?

‘So?’ Harry asked after a while.

‘The place is surrounded. You won’t receive any help from outside.’

‘I know that, Tom. Are you that afraid of me?’

A loud growl. ‘Don’t mock me, Potter. I’m not afraid of you, you know that. And don’t call me Tom.’

‘Will we duel then? I give you ten seconds to decide.’

Another annoyed growl, then a short bark. ‘All right, I accept your condition.’

‘Swear, and I will believe it.’

‘You are quite a Slytherin, Potter.’

‘Swear on your and their lives, or no duel.’

‘But-’

‘You have no time remaining. Do you swear or do I go?’

‘I swear, Potter.’

‘Do it, then.’

‘I swear on my and their lives that my servants will not interfere in our duel in any way.’

‘Fine,’ Harry muttered the counter charm and silence fell on the hangar. Taking a deep breath to calm his stomach down, he slipped the black cloak off his shoulders, cast a Shielding Charm on himself and proceeded slowly towards the centre. He could just hope that he would survive the next minutes.

At his left, he saw some movement, and the Dark Lord’s figure emerged from the shadows. Without a word, they both went to the centre and eased themselves into the traditional combat position.

‘I know that you’re alone, Potter. My servants searched the whole building.’

Harry shrugged. ‘Did you come to fight or to talk?’

‘All right.’ The snake-like face furrowed into a deadly frown. ‘At three, then.’

Harry nodded.

‘One – two – three…’

‘Stupefy!’

‘Avada Kedavra!’

The two spells sounded in the same time, and both opponents moved to avoid the nearing lights.

‘Expelliarmus!’ Suddenly, a third voice joined and Voldemort’s wand flew out of his hand before he could move. ‘Grab his wand Potter, before…’ But Snape couldn’t continue as Death Eaters ran to his direction while another three sprinted toward Harry, who in the meantime grabbed Voldemort’s wand. It felt so familiar – just like holding his own. So, Snape had been right about this too.

‘Kill him!’ Voldemort shrieked, and his servants lifted their wands to attack. Harry closed his eyes in dread. This wasn’t an unexpected turn, and if Snape had been wrong in this part of the plan…

‘Avada Kedavra!’ Harry held his breath back.

Thump. And another one. And another.

Snape had been right, he thought as he opened his eyes.

The oath killed the interfering servants.

Apparently, Voldemort too arrived at the same conclusion, because he moved towards the shelter of the pillars using Harry’s daze. But Harry was prepared.

‘Ligamens,*’ he whispered and pointed his wand to Voldemort before he could disappear. The next moment, he was inside his enemy, he was his enemy, he was Voldemort, and for a moment, he wanted to get out, to leave the whole situation behind, to leave the task of finishing off his enemy to others, he wasn’t prepared, he wasn’t ready to face… to face so much hatred and darkness, so much fear and desire to kill, and the darkness surrounded him, the invader, the uninvited guest, and Harry had to struggle not to flee – and not to fall, because the darkness was calling him, whispering to him tales about the long-needed rest, warmness and peace, and greatness and success and power and might over the world, it was like a whirlwind and Harry felt dazzled and his head spun even if it wasn’t his head, or he didn’t know that any more…

It was like a whirlpool, which tried to suck him, to swallow him. It enchanted him, it sang songs of greatness in his ears and Harry felt so lost.

“You can be great…”

“You can rule the world…”

“You will have the power to act…”

“You can change everything…”

“You can get revenge for your beloveds’ deaths…”

“You will be stronger than Dumbledore…”

Harry’s heart almost stopped. Revenge… Dumbledore would pay… He would make Dumbledore pay for killing his wife, his son, he would have the power!

The whirlpool was so near…

Revenge…

For Sirius, who was the first victim of the old man.

For Ron, who had been cheated and misled, who had just wanted to protect him. And Dumbledore had used him. He had just been a tool.

For Luna, Heather and his son.

He would kill Dumbledore. He would kill him, because he would have the power!

Revenge!

“Harry, no!” a voice cried from far away, it sounded suspiciously like Hermione. “Remember!”

“Remember what?” Harry asked himself, the waves of pain and bitterness almost running over him. But he owed Hermione. He owed her to at least try to remember.

“Go. Don’t look back. Let us go.” They had been Cedric’s words not long ago.

“Don’t forget my love will always protect you.” His mother.

“I love you, Harry. I always will.” Heather.

And suddenly, another voice, an elderly voice sounded quietly, full of pain and regret in his thoughts.

“I cared about you too much. I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act.”

And Harry understood. Dumbledore loved him. He had loved him more, than Harry could ever imagine. It had been this love that had tried to shield him, that tried to keep him away from Voldemort, from fear, pain and death. Dumbledore had closed him out to make his life easier: a young man’s life who had suffered enough during his schooling, it hadn’t been the old man’s fault that Harry had felt frustrated and cheated. And he hadn’t been sincere with Dumbledore, because he hadn’t ever allowed himself to see how much the Headmaster loved him, and he had kept his marriage secret – and it had been this distrust that had killed Luna, Heather and ultimately, his son…

“I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act.”

Harry now understood. It had been his fault…

“None of our deaths was your fault, Harry,” Cedric’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“…we fools who love…”

And Harry suddenly saw the light. Not the darkness, not the revenge.

He didn’t want revenge, not any more.

‘I love you all,’ he whispered and let this feeling pour out of his heart, through his mind, his whole being. ‘I love you all,’ he repeated as he thought of Hagrid, Neville, Hermione, the Weasleys, Dumbledore – and Snape. Yes, of Snape too. People, who were still alive. Who loved him and waited for him to return to them, and he knew that his place was somewhere out there, in their company, and smiled. ‘I’m coming,’ he said and stepped towards the light.

***

The moment his ex-fellows attacked him, Severus Apparated away and released a ragged breath. He couldn’t do anything more for Potter: remaining in the same building wasn’t safe for him any longer. The Death Eaters couldn’t attack Potter, but Snape was a perfect target for them to occupy themselves while their master killed the young man, so he fled.

But it wasn’t an easy decision even if Potter had agreed when they had planned the whole thing.

‘I will be all right, Severus. You can’t help me, but you can easily get yourself killed. I don’t need you to divert my attention.’

Oh, yes, the brat had been right, but then again, he was extremely nervous. He didn’t want Harry to die. Not because of Voldemort, he didn’t give a damn about his ex-master living or dying. But Harry had so many weaknesses, and he was concerned for the young man. Even if Harry was one of the lightest people he had ever met, the pain, the distrust and the fear were looming over his bright soul threatening to fall on him trapping him in the depths of the Dark Lord’s soul and eventually killing him in the process, or worse.

Snape jumped to his feet and began to pace.

He should have told Harry that Dumbledore loved him. Or that even he, the bitter git cared for him. Or not… Well, but he should have talked about Dumbledore. It had been a very, very serious tactical error to forget about it. A perfect way for the Dark Lord to counter-attack.

He cursed inwardly.

The main reason he didn’t want to talk about Dumbledore was that he didn’t want to risk Harry’s fragile internal peace. But still, it had been a mistake.

Snape closed his eyes, praying silently to himself. He prayed for Harry to have enough light, enough love, enough belief in his future to conquer.

Sighing, his trembling fingers pushed up his left sleeve, and he stared at the sign of his shame and failure pointedly. He hated it. He hated the Mark, and he hated everything it symbolised. He didn’t want power and dark knowledge. The only thing he wanted was Harry to return, and to have a good dinner somewhere together with the brat… In Hogwarts, perhaps… if Potter didn’t lose the blasted Portkey, they could have supper… oh, stop. In Britain it was already night, quite after curfew… But the house elves were always so happy to help, even in the middle of the night, and he could sleep in his own bed, finally… And he could transfigure his sofa for Potter…

CRACK. He jumped in surprise.

‘Lost in thought, Severus?’ A cheeky voice sounded behind him, and he growled out of habit.

‘Potter.’

For a moment, they both stood frozen looking at each other.

‘I did it,’ Harry whispered and Severus looked at his forearm astonished.

The Mark was gone.

He ran a finger on the sensitive skin, waiting for the familiar wrinkles under his touch, but there was nothing. Not even that small unevenness he had felt in those years, when the Dark Lord had been in hiding. He felt nothing, just warm skin and the even heartbeat, when he pressed stronger not believing the first sensation that he was free, once and for all, free, free, as if his sins had been deleted, washed away, he was free…

‘It’s gone,’ he said timidly and looked at the young man. ‘He’s dead…’

And they were hugging and slapping each other’s back, crying unarticulated into the air.

‘He’s gone!’

‘I did it!’

‘We’re free!’

‘It’s over!’

‘You did it!’

‘With your help, git!’

‘You did it, stupid brat!’

‘He’s gone, gone, gone…’

‘YES!’

And they cried and laughed like madmen, and yelled, and tears ran down their cheeks, until they both collapsed on the ground, breathless.

For long moments, they just looked at each other, and spoke up at the same time.

‘I’m starving.’

‘Dumbledore loves you.’

Harry nodded. ‘I realised. Fortunately, it wasn’t too late.’

‘It was my fault.’

‘Don’t mention it. If it weren’t for you, Voldemort would be still alive.’

‘It was you, who defeated him. By the way, how did he die?’

‘I don’t know precisely. I just felt that I love so many people, and they love me, and nobody blamed me for the past, and I saw the light, and the darkness just… disappeared. The next time I looked up I was in my body and Voldemort was nothing, but ashes. A pile of ashes.’

Severus couldn’t suppress a smile. ‘You did well.’

‘With your help.’

Severus first wanted to protest, but finally nodded. ‘You know, Dumbledore once told me that darkness isn’t but the lack of Light. Bringing Light in the Dark Lord’s soul simply… made him disappear into nothingness.’

‘It’s a pity Dumbledore didn’t let you have the Defence position.’

‘I think he wanted me to be around permanently, not only for one year.’

The brat cracked a mischievous grin. ‘Hey, Severus, wasn’t you who cursed the position?’

Such a cheek! He lifted an aristocratic eyebrow. ‘Well, no, I think it was the Headmaster, who wanted to reserve that position for you.’

Harry nodded slowly. ‘Let’s go home and ask him.’

‘It’s midnight at home. I don’t think the Headmaster is awake.’

‘Then it’s time to wake him up.’ Harry stood up and reached his hand to help Severus up too. ‘It’s time to tell him that the war is over. And that I’m not mad at him. Not any more.’

Harry pulled out the Portkey from his pocket: it was a sock, like those Dobby liked to wear and reached out. Snape rolled his eyes and put a finger on it.

‘Home,’ he whispered the password, and the next moment they were nowhere to be seen in the Australian desert.

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