A/N: this chapter is for all of you who waited on me so patiently, and who were disappointed at the shortness of the last chapter of Part One. Especially, I thank for her lovely review, which motivated me to start this today. Reviews are like magical words that will make authors write more; don't forget to send me some!

Invictus; Part Two

Chapter One: Intent

Harry stood staring at the blood-stained wall, and the words of the poem—prophecy?—began to run in his vision as sorrow at the devastating loss of something he had just found began to turn into an all-consuming rage. Rage, at Voldemort for all the man had taken from him. At himself, for being stupid enough to allow Severus his pride. The rage clouded his mind, drew him deeper towards a place he had never gone before, a maelstrom of hate, anger, and pain.

Words floated to the forefront of his brain as he stood there in silent, shaking rage; Death is coming for his love…get him back by killing shadows…

As the words registered and clicked in some part of his brain, Harry began to run. Down, down into the bowels of the castle, where the node of Hogwarts Magic lay. Once there, he drew in the magic of ages; as much as he could hold—more than he could contain. There was no thought behind what he was doing; if yesterday he could have foreseen his actions how, he'd have recoiled in terror. Harrys rage and sorrow overtook him, and the magic he had taken into himself gorged on the emotional tumult.

Intent…

Harry used the magic, seeking out the magical signature of his professor. The space and distance between them no longer mattered; Harrys magical ability was aided by stores of magic from ages past. Seeking, he found the signature, the spark of magic that would reside in Severus until the man died. He was still alive. Something Dark was near him, coiled around the other man, invading him. Harry could not at first understand what was going on. Snapes soul was…dimmed, as though he had passed beyond the veil and hovered dangerously near the edge. He has little time to seek the shallows…

Voldemort, or the Yerhn, must be holding Severus at the cusp of death and life. They brought him there…and held him.

A new burst of rage rocked through Harry, and before he had a chance to think, magic whirled around him—through him—and his intent to see Voldemort and the Yerhn destroyed utterly passed from his thoughts and into the magic before he knew what was happening.

Desperate, with sudden terror cooling his rage, Harry attempted to recall the magic; to gain control of it. But the powerfully large force of magic he had called upon had fed off of his emotions; rage and sorrow, intent at destruction of the perpetrators, had given the magic a will of its own. Harrys fear grew as he reached back inside the magic, searching once again for Severus. The intensity of the magic had grown, forged by his own strong emotions, and this time rather than feeling the other mans presence, he was there.

Very suddenly he was no longer in the bowels of a relatively warm castle, but a cold stone courtyard next to a man who seemed to by dead or dying. Dropping to his knees, he began touching the other mans throat and face, begging.

"No, no please, you can't…you can't DIE!" Harry screamed, completely unaware of the other man standing not five paces away.

"Decided to throw the world to the dogs for him, Potter?" a soft, amused voice asked. Harry looked up to see Voldemort, standing stationary with the strangest smile on his face.

"What are you on about?" Harry snapped, moving protectively in front of Severus. The older man chuckled softly, and in the voice Harry heard something darker; something inhuman.

"Didn't you read the prophecy, Potter? 'Lose the world to save another/Lose a life to life recover.'" Harrys heart stopped at the sudden implication. He hadn't registered all of the poem; just the important bits. Severus…

"It's just a poem, not a prophecy!" He screamed, willing it to be true. Voldemort slowly shook his head.

"It's a…dark, you would say…a dark prophecy. And if I am not completely mistaken, you have used the magic of Hogwarts, coupled with intention, to see me destroyed." Voldemort seemed inordinately pleased with this outcome.

"Why does it matter? You'll be gone! That's a good thing!" Harry was desperately trying to think, to figure out how the magic he had created could have a negative affect.

"Ah, Potter…no one ever taught you balance, did they? You've thrown the entire world out of balance by utterly destroying a creature of pure magic…a strong creature of magic. What powers will rise in my wake? What darkness will seek to consume the living, at this unprecedented opportunity? What forces of light will work towards stopping it? What harm will it wreck for the humans? Ah…Potter. I owe you my deepest gratitude." As the Dark Lord spoke, the magic Harry had released began to consume the taller man, until only his words of thanks drifted on the air. The magic, having done his bidding, dissipated, leaving Harry with a man who was yet trapped between life and death.

"No…no, he's wrong!" Harry shouted to the empty air. Forcing his concentration back to the man lying before him, he focused harder than he ever had before; saying the words that would allow him to pass through the veil between life and death, saying the words that bespoke the only way to give the man before him a chance again at life.

"Severus!" Harry exclaimed as the other man opened one bleary eye and fixed him with a glare.

"Whats going on, Potter?" Harry looked down.

"Remember, how we've agreed that I'm going to vanquish the Dark Lord by sheer stupidity? I've done it. Sheer stupidity." Snape sat up and looked around, assessing the situation.

"How?" He asked, pinning the young man with a look that brooked no arguments.

"I mean it. SHEER stupidity. I…I used the magic of the node, to find you, and when I saw…when I saw you were between life and death, I got even more angry. The magic…it was like it had a life of its own. It stole my intent, my emotions, and it…killed Voldemort. And the Yerhn." As Harry spoke, Snape became more pale than he had been; which is saying something since he'd just rejoined the living.

"You used…you used awesomely powerful intention magic to destroy the Dark Lord, and the Yerhn?" He clarified, and Harry hung his head.

"Yes. I…Voldemort said that I've disrupted the balance of the world, and that worse things will come, that I've thrown the world into a darkness greater than his. But he was just trying to bait me…right?" Snape stood, feeling more unsteady and…well, terrified, than he had ever felt in his long life.

"We'll see. Potter," he grabbed the young man by the shoulders, "I need you to tell me exactly what happened." Harry nodded and began his story, bringing several revival potions out of his pockets for his professor as he did so. As the boy continued, Snape found himself not only fascinated, but dumbfounded. He sat on one of the benches surrounding the courtyard, imbibing the potions Harry gave him as a ruse to compose his thoughts and face as the story continued.

"…So then, when I saw the writing on the wall, I knew." Harry paused, and Snape—who had not heard the last bit—started.

"You knew what, Potter?" He snapped. Harry just looked at him.

"I knew I was in love with you." He said simply. Snape looked blankly at him for a moment, before he came up with a believable scoff.

"Finish the story, Potter, with as little theatrics as possible." Harry shrugged and continued, hiding his hurt.

Once the full of the tale had been told, Snape stood and grabbed Harry.

"I need to see this prophecy. Lets go." Harry worried his lip and nodded, restraining himself from asking if he'd just doomed mankind, praying that he had not.

Snape was staring at the wall where the blood spelled out Harrys crime, immobile. Harry fidgeted in the background, finally unable to contain himself.

"Well?" Snape started, as though he had forgotten Harrys presence. He turned slowly around, a rage so lethal leaking from his eyes that Harry stumbled as he backed away involuntarily.

"Get out, Potter." The mans voice could not hold more contempt, more loathing.

"But—" Harry stuttered, looking scared and worried.

"Do you know what you have done? Do you realize, do you even comprehend…! OUT, POTTER! And don't let me see that puling adolescent face again!" Harry ran, ran from the room and from his sudden, crushing guilt. Snape slammed the door behind him and promptly began raging around the room, destroying his own property.

Foolish BOY! He screamed mentally, unable to grasp the pure vastness of the mistake fully.

He did it for YOU… a voice in his mind whispered, which only encouraged his rage.

Idiot! I'm not worth the world…I'm not worth a grain of it! IDIOT BOY! His rage had begun to feed off his magic, and lest he do something similarly stupid, he began to reign himself in.

What would they do? Potter had traded a destructive force centralized in Britain for an unknown, unpredictable worldly battle that would incorporate the fates, furies, sorrow, malady, justice, truth, destruction…it could begin a battle for life itself. The destruction of the balance in taking away a dark entity—the Yerhn—had created a vacuum, a place where anything could—and would!—happen. Dumbledore would—

Dumbledore! He explained these things to Harry! What did he say…?

"So that you would know, my boy. So that you would know." Could the older man have known this was to occur? Surely, had Albus known he would have done all within his power to prevent it. Unless…

Unless it was necessary. Unless it HAD to occur, for fear of a greater danger. What had the old man known? The rage and despair slinked away from him, leaving him feeling cold and numb.

Dear gods, Severus thought as he slumped into his armchair. What happens now?

Harry was sitting in the Astronomy Tower, looking at the stars. His thoughts whirled in his mind as he went over all he knew about elementals, creatures of magic, and what might be on the horizon. All the things Dumbledore had told him of.

Dumbledore…

Harry recalled the memory vividly, wondering still what the older man had meant. "So that you would know, my boy…" Had the older man knew what would happen? He must have, it seemed obvious now. So why hadn't he attempted to stop it? Why had Dumbledore just allowed Harry to…

Maybe it was necessary. To prevent something worse? Had it been the better of two poor options? Harry didn't know, but he felt comforted by the fact that Dumbledore, it seemed, didn't find the prospect of what Harry had done overly alarming.

But what if Dumbledore was wrong? Harrys thoughts turned to prophecy.

Neither can live while the other survives….The boy with the scar/born under North Star/will decide the fate of the earth. Given his way/he will destroy and create/and all life, the chance at rebirth. Beware his intent/for magic once spent/cannot return to its holder. If the boy chooses wrong/the night will be long/ever-after a world of disorder… Lose the world to save another/Lose one life to life recover/Known in ancient skies above/The boy will choose his selfish love/And the world shudders as it weeps/What the darkness takes, the darkness keeps.

The prophecy from North Star never actually said that his intention magic would cause destruction. It only said to be wary of destruction. In fact, that prophecy could even be said to encourage his intention magic. What if Harry hadn't done it? The prophecy could easily be saying that destruction and death would occur if Harry didn't use the magic to save Severus. But the last prophecy…it couldn't be more clear. Lose one life/to life recover. Sacrifice Severus, save the world. Let him die. Or save him, and doom mankind.

But that's a dark prophecy. It's…what did North Star say? Prophecy is a guide…so it's a guide for the minions of darkness…right? Harry thought.

Disgusted with the vague, uncertain and useless prophesies, Harry shoved all thoughts of them away. I don't need prophecy, I have free will. All prophecy has ever done for me is bind me tighter than I could possibly bind myself, he thought angrily, and was startled to hear a disembodied laugh echo through the tower.

"Who's there?" Harry asked warily, standing and pulling free his wand.

"It is I, Harry Potter." The familiar voice that sounded and felt like cold light between years of darkness echoed from behind him, and he turned around to see North Star.

"What…Why are you here?" He asked hesitantly. Her face morphed into something that, on a human woman, would have been a kind smile, but on this inhuman….star, it looked distinctly out of place, even alien.

"I am here, Harry Potter, because you have learned something valuable tonight. And because I am your guide." Harry nodded dumbly, and the Star continued. "Tonight, you have acted on pure impulse, on emotion, without reason or restraint. You have killed the monster that has terrorized you, and your people, for a long while. You are to be congratulated." Harry, who had been wincing and preparing for a severe reprimand, looked up in surprise.

"But, I might have disrupted the balance of the world! I may have unknowingly forsaken mankind!" He protested. Strangely, she nodded agreement.

"This is true. But think for me, Harry Potter. Wouldn't a Yerhn, a creature of dark intent growing into its full power, also have upset the balance?" Harry looked at her blankly, and then nodded.

"It is so. The events in prophecy do not negate your free will, Harry Potter. It may be true that, had you not acted as you did tonight, you would have found another way to vanquish your enemy before it could disrupt the balance, and your male friend would be dead, but the world restored. It is true that you may not have found a way, and the balance would be ruined, the world in chaos, and you would not have your man with you. There are many paths towards the final end, and prophecy is a guide towards whatever end is favorable to the one who speaks it. Do you understand, Harry Potter?" Harry stared at her for a moment.

"You're saying that, my free will is a large aspect of what will happen next, and that prophecy doesn't so much as tell the future, but outline possible future events. And that, with my free will, comes responsibility. I can't say that my actions are the fault of prophecy, or even Dumbledore. My choices are my own, and come with their own consequences. You're saying that, in this instance, I might have been wrong to do what I did, but then again, it might have been my best possible course of action. And…and your saying that life is far more complicated than fault and blame, even more complicated than action and reaction." North Star bowed her head to him.

"Correct, Harry Potter. I hope, for all our sakes, that it was indeed the right decision. Until the next crossroads in time…" She faded out, and he waved at her.

"Thank you," He whispered, feeling a great sense of understanding settle over him.

Severus Snape did not expect to find Potter sitting outside of his room, though he most likely should have. Growling, he turned on his heel and began to walk away from the boy.

"Severus, wait!" Harry called, running after him. "I have some things to tell you, before this meeting! Please!" He ran to catch up, calling one last desperate plea as his other words were ignored. "I met North Star again!" Snape stopped abruptly and turned, staring at the slightly out of breath youth.

"Go on, Potter, but make it quick." Harry explained as quickly as possible, starting with his thoughts on Dumbledore. Snape, looking suddenly weary, sighed.

"She is right, of course. We had better explain that to the Order before we explain what you have done." Harry beamed as his professor said 'we', implying that they were once again on the same side.

"I agree. Look, could you please move your rooms to somewhere inside the warded half of the castle?" Snape blinked at the sudden change of topic, then smirked.

"Of course, Potter. I would never have thought of it on my own." He snapped, and Harry sighed in relief, ignoring the bite.

"Good, lets get on to this meeting."

After Harry and Severus had told the adjourned members their story, the great hall was more silent than Harry had ever heard it; even the air seemed to be more still.

He looked around at those assembled, his thoughts and emotions tumbling behind his tightly controlled exterior. The entire Weasley family was there; they'd made it safely, somehow. Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley, Moody, Hermione, Draco, Luna, Lucius…everyone who lead a specific force or resistance was there. What they had begun referring to as the 'foot soldiers' were dispersed through the castle, and even in their own homes, awaiting orders. Finally, after a very long silence and collective breath, Hermione spoke up.

"Well, at least now what we're fighting isn't targeted directly at us." She said, and some others laughed briefly.

"I think we should all take the next few months to study and prepare," she continued boldly. "Half of us don't quite understand what we're up against, and most of us probably don't know how to counter whatever gets thrown at us. What we need is more information." Other members began to nod, even as Fred and George elbowed each other and whispered loudly about Hermione's suspicious obsession with books.

"I agree with Miss Granger's assessment. I suggest we hold a conclave in a weeks' time to discuss what we have found so far." Snape said, as others nodded or voiced their agreement. Hermione gasped.

"Professor! I suggested a few months! A week will hardly—"

"Miss Granger, I suspect we do not have much longer than a week before our combined knowledge will be forced into action. I suggest you consider this matter to be as grave as if NEWT's were a mere week away." Snape interrupted, smirking. Hermione gasped again and let out an incredibly un-Hermione-like curse before running from the room, the echo of her muttering lost in a roar of laughter.

A/N: Thoughts? Opinions? This is about as far as I've gotten in my specific-planning (generally, I've the whole thing outlined) So I'm not sure what to do, next. I need that magical thing called REVIEWS to power my exhausted brain. Please please please?