A/N: Here we are! I thought I would never make it this far at times but this story is finally complete. I really hope you enjoy it, and please please leave a review whether you liked it or not! Thank you to anyone that stuck with it despite me disappearing for months at a time. Anyway, on with the story! Warning, smut and fluff ahead!

Chapter 21

Harry sprinted forwards, jumping the last few steps and launching upwards onto the dais in the middle of the room, paying no attention to the fighting all around him, or to the fact that Bellatrix was still standing on the platform, wand pointed directly at Sirius's chest. He dived towards Sirius, and with all of his strength slammed the two of them down on to the ground. The sounds of the battle around him faded into insignificance. Sitting on top of Sirius's lifeless body, Harry shook him, but he was unresponsive.

"SIRIUS!" Harry shouted, distantly hearing laughter in the background from Bellatrix but he ignored everything around him. His breath caught in his throat, lungs burning, he couldn't breathe. A cold sweat dripped down his forehead and into his eyes, Harry absentmindedly wiping it away so he could see Sirius's face. Harry eventually remembered that he knew how to wake up someone who had been stunned, and he took out his wand, his hand trembling badly. He tried his best to calm himself, and pointed his wand at Sirius, terrified that it wouldn't work, that Bellatrix had hit Sirius with some kind of dark magic that he wouldn't recover from. "Enervate," he said shakily, distractedly wiping away the tears that were blurring his vision. Sirius blinked groggily, confusion written on his face as he opened his eyes properly and focused on Harry who was still sitting on top of him. Harry let out a sob and buried his face in Sirius's chest.

"Oh Merlin, Sirius, you're okay, you're okay," Harry whispered, trying to control his breathing as he felt his heart still hammering in his chest. For a moment there, he had thought that he had lost Sirius. Harry just knew that if Sirius had stumbled backwards through the ominous veil, he wouldn't have appeared on the other side. The dead were waiting in there, somehow, and they would've taken him. The thought made Harry feel sick to his stomach, and he became suddenly aware of how much he was shaking. Harry couldn't live without Sirius, that much was painfully obvious to him.

"What the hell happened? Harry? Why are you on top of me?" Sirius asked gruffly, gently raising a hand and burying it in Harry's hair to help calm him down. Harry sniffed and smiled at him. He was about to explain about the veil, when suddenly a hand reached down and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, pulling him off of Sirius. Sharp claw-like nails dug into him, and he knew it was Bellatrix. She hung onto his neck, holding him up next to her like a puppet and laughing with maniacal glee.

"Look at that! Little hero Potter saves the day again. Well, I might not have killed your pathetic godfather but now I have you, and I'm going to call my Master so he can come and deal with you himself, I know he'll be delighted!" Bellatrix giggled madly, throwing Harry to the ground and holding him down with her foot. The spiked heel dug into his chest and Harry wriggled uncomfortably, trying to get loose. Swiftly casting a petrificus totalus on Harry to stop him struggling, Bellatrix then rolled up her sleeve, clearly about to touch her Dark Mark to summon Voldemort.

"NO!" Harry wanted to shout, but he couldn't move. Luckily, Sirius had now had time to regain his senses and stagger to his feet, and he tackled Bellatrix to the ground before she could get to her Dark Mark. Screaming in anger, she managed to wriggle out from underneath him and pulled out her wand, and before Harry had time to process what had happened the two of them were duelling again. Harry wanted to scream at Sirius to get away from the veil, he hadn't had a chance to tell Sirius how dangerous it was. The two of them danced around the stone archway, shooting spells at each other and expertly dodging the other's attacks. Sirius seemed to be getting the upper hand, until suddenly Bellatrix hit him with a disarming spell and his wand soared out of his hand and through the air, clattering down to the ground next to Harry's head. If he could only move… but try as he might, there was nothing Harry could do to break the full body bind.

Just as Bellatrix was advancing upon a chalky faced, unarmed Sirius, there was a bang at the top of the steps as someone smashed their way into the room. Harry couldn't turn his head to see, but luckily Bellatrix shouted it out for everyone to hear.

"Severus Snape! What time do you call this? We almost thought you weren't going to bother showing your face," she shouted at him, derision on her face. "The Dark Lord is going to be very interested to hear how you didn't care to join us for his most important task."

"You know full well of my instructions, Bellatrix, I'm not to take sides unless absolutely necessary." Snape looked at her with utter contempt. "Did you get it? Where is the prophecy?" He asked icily, stalking down the steps towards the dais where Bellatrix was still standing with her wand pointed at Sirius's chest, breathing heavily.

"The Potter boy has it," she said, gesturing towards where Harry lay immobilised on the ground at the other side of the dais. "Check his pockets, it's in there."

"So you didn't even go to the trouble of removing the prophecy from Potter's person? My my, we are getting lazy," Severus smirked, reaching the bottom of the steps and climbing up onto the dais. Harry held his breath, waiting for the unwanted touch of Snape searching him for the prophecy that wasn't there. However, the search never came. Snape stood next to him, facing towards Bellatrix and Sirius. Raising his wand, the potions master pointed it in the direction of Sirius and Bellatrix, and Harry felt sick to his stomach. Snape had always hated Sirius, and now was his chance to end it once and for all. How could Harry have thought that Snape would've just let Bellatrix deal with him by herself?

Their stand-off had garnered the attention of the other people in the room. Lucius was still duelling with Remus, however Moody had managed to revive Tonks and the two were recuperating, watching the scene unfold with trepidation but not wanting to intervene. The remaining Death Eaters were all out for the count, and Kingsley was standing watching Snape with an inscrutable expression on his face. With a glance towards Harry, he silently cast the counter to the full body bind, and Harry felt the feeling return to his limbs. Trying not to draw attention to himself, Harry slowly turned his head to the side to look at Sirius and Bellatrix, wishing there was something he could do. Harry couldn't move without the risk of Sirius or himself getting killed.

"What are you doing?" Bellatrix asked Snape, a sneer on her face, "Black is mine to kill. Get the prophecy!" she screeched, but Snape just walked closer to them. As he drew nearer, Harry could swear that it wasn't Sirius he was pointing his wand at… Bellatrix seemed to come to the same conclusion, turning to point her wand at Snape instead of Sirius but it was too late. Snape's spell hit her in the chest and she fell backwards, this time it was her falling towards the black veil instead of Sirius and there was no one there to stop it. She disappeared backwards through the archway, an expression of disbelieving horror on her face, and she did not reappear on the other side. The strange whispers became louder for a moment, and then quieted down again until they were indecipherable from the background noise. After a brief moment of shock as Voldemort's best lieutenant died, Harry came to his senses and rolled over, grabbing Sirius's wand, and throwing it to the older wizard who caught it expertly.

Harry scrambled to his feet, breathing heavily and trying to process what had just happened. If he ever needed definitive proof that Snape was on their side, that was it. He had just killed Bellatrix in front of all of the remaining Death Eaters, passing up the perfect opportunity to kill Sirius. Harry almost felt guilty about all the hate he felt towards Snape, but then he remembered what a complete arse the man was and he felt better. No matter what his allegiance was, the man was a bastard and that was that. He did still feel waves of gratitude towards Snape for saving Sirius, however. Sirius had been defenceless at Bellatrix's mercy and Snape had come to the rescue, begrudgingly or not.

As Harry got his bearings, he heard another noise from the top of the room. Who could it be this time, he asked himself, looking up towards the door and gasping as he saw Dumbledore striding purposefully down the stone steps towards the members of the Order. He had a fire burning in his pale blue eyes, and he looked furiously around at the scene in front of him. He scanned the room and Harry saw the glint in his eye as he saw that Harry and all of the Order members appeared to be alive and intact.

All of the Death Eaters apart from Lucius Malfoy were unconscious or dead, all lying on the floor around the room. Lucius Malfoy was trying desperately to hold off Kingsley Shacklebolt and Remus Lupin, while Moody sat with a frail Tonks who looked disorientated from her fall. As Harry looked on, Moody stood up and focused his wand on Malfoy as well, and Sirius strode forwards from his place next to Harry to join in, followed by Snape. Lucius looked at the Order members surrounding him, saw Dumbledore silently watching from the side, and scowled in defeat.

Dropping his wand to the ground, Malfoy made as if to raise his arms in surrender. However, before anyone had the chance to stop him, he yanked back the sleeve of his left arm and pressed his fingertip to his jet black Dark Mark, summoning Lord Voldemort. There was a look of sick satisfaction on his face as he watched the horror appear on the faces of the Order. Someone cried out in rage, Harry wasn't sure who, and several stunning spells hit Malfoy at once. He went down with a cruel grin on his face, and the Order all turned to each other with pale expressions on their faces. They outnumbered Voldemort massively, however most of them were injured and none of them were any match for the Dark Lord himself. None save perhaps Dumbledore.

Kingsley quickly hastened to hill Dumbledore in on what had happened, Dumbledore's expression grim as he listened. Harry listened intently, glad no one seemed to be telling Dumbledore why they were all here in the first place. When the time was right, he would mention how it was his fault they had all come to the Ministry to be ambushed by Death Eaters. That moment could wait forever if he had anything to do with it. When Kingsley was finished explaining, Dumbledore sent him and the other Order members to collect together all of the Death Eaters and chain them, so that they could not intervene should they awake. Harry was about to lend a hand, but Dumbledore seemed to have other ideas.

"With me, please, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly, and walked briskly up the steps. Harry looked around anxiously at Sirius, who smiled gently at him, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He looked suspiciously at Dumbledore's retreating form, seemingly unwilling to have Harry taken out of his sight. Harry had no option but to follow Dumbledore and see what he wanted. He had questions that needed answering anyway, although he doubted that he would actually get any solid answers. They strode quickly through the Time chamber, through the circle room full of doors and back into the corridor that led to the lift. It seemed a lifetime ago that Harry had run down here, looking to save Ron and Hermione. He cringed again at how stupid he had been to believe the vision Voldemort had planted in his mind.

The lift clanged and clattered as it brought them back up from the depths of the Ministry and they emerged into the sudden brightness of the atrium. Dumbledore led Harry over to stand next to the fountain of magical brethren in the centre of the room, and turned to him with a serious expression on his face.

"Harry," he began wearily, for once seeming old and tired as if he had nothing more to give. "There is a lot you don't know, that you deserve to be told. Let us sit." They both sat down on a bench next to the fountain, and Dumbledore began to speak. "We don't have much time, Voldemort is on his way as we speak, so please try not to interrupt if possible. I will tell you everything, as much as I can." Harry nodded, unable to speak even if he'd wanted to. There was a lump in his throat, and his chest felt constricted. He had a feeling this was going to be the most important conversation of his life.

"As I'm sure you know; Voldemort only fears one thing. Death. His fear of death is what has shaped his life and made him become the twisted, evil shell of a man that he is today, barely human, yet hanging on to life. To him, as long as he isn't dead, it's all worth it. He has no feelings of love or compassion, only a need to cling on to life no matter the cost. It was because of this that Tom Riddle, as he was known back in his early days, decided to take the first horrific step towards immortality." Harry gasped slightly, but he didn't interrupt, he was too interested in Dumbledore's words. So there really was a way to prevent death, and Voldemort had discovered it? A chill ran down Harry's spine as he considered the horrific, unnatural methods the dark wizard must've used.

"I'm sad to say that it was deep in the depths of the Restricted section of Hogwarts library that Riddle found the answers he had been seeking. Those books have long since been confiscated by myself, however it was too little too late. Riddle learnt of the existence of horcruxes. To create a horcrux is to tie your soul to life, but at a terrible cost. You choose an object, usually of significant sentimental value to yourself, and you extract a piece of your soul, sending it to reside inside this object. While the piece of soul lives inside the object, no matter what happens to your body, your soul lives on, and certain magical rituals can be made to bring your body back to life using the piece soul.

"To split your soul is a dreadful, unnatural thing to do. The only way to split your soul is to commit the most terrible crime; to commit murder. The act of murder tears the soul in two, and some evil, twisted magic is used to move the broken piece of soul into the object of your choosing." Harry's breath quickened as he listened to the horrible tale. He could tell where this was going, he knew that Dumbledore had been destroying several objects. So did that mean…

"He split his soul more than once?" Harry asked with horror, then realised he wasn't supposed to interrupt and fell quiet. Dumbledore nodded grimly at him.

"That is correct, Harry. Believing it to be a magical number, Riddle was obsessed with the number seven. He felt that to split his soul into seven pieces, creating six horcruxes, was the ultimate way to achieve immortality. The diary, the locket, the ring, the diadem, the cup, and I am almost certain that the last is his snake, Nagini. If one of his horcruxes were to be destroyed, no matter, he would still be perfectly fine. He did not realise just how much of his humanity he would lose on the way to achieving this terrible goal, however. You saw him, before he took your blood to restore his body in your fourth year at Hogwarts. How he could believe that to exist like that was better than death, you and I will never be able to understand. Every time he split his soul, he made himself less humane, he weakened his soul beyond repair.

"The night Voldemort tried to kill you, Harry, that was when it all went wrong for him. His soul already weakened, when he committed the horrific act of trying to kill an innocent child, his soul was shattered. A shard of his soul escaped from the whole, and latched onto the only other living body in the area. You, Harry," Dumbledore said softly, and dark spots seemed to appear in Harry's vision. His heart raced as he tried desperately to understand. There was a piece of Voldemort's soul inside him, this was why he had always had a weird connection to Voldemort's mind. He felt sick, unclean. The visions, the flashes of Voldemort's emotions. It was all because of that shard of soul inside him. He felt violated, physically sick.

"How do you destroy them? The horcruxes," Harry asked faintly. He had an idea, but he needed to know. He needed this piece of Voldemort out of him. Dumbledore looked at Harry with a pained expression.

"To kill a horcrux you must completely destroy the vessel in which the soul resides. There are few ways to do this, because most things can be repaired with magic. Some things, however cannot be repaired. Basilisk venom, for example, is so destructive— "

"The diary!" Harry interrupted, suddenly realising, "it was a horcrux! I destroyed it by stabbing it with a basilisk fang!"

"That is correct, Harry," Dumbledore spoke softly. "The only cure for basilisk venom is phoenix tears, and as they are so rare, it is the perfect weapon with which to kill a horcrux."

"So is that how you killed the other horcruxes? With basilisk venom?"

"In a way. The sword of Gryffindor, which you so bravely pulled from the sorting hat and used to stab the basilisk to death. It is Goblin made, and therefore imbibes that which makes it stronger. When you used it to kill the basilisk, it imbibed the venom of the basilisk, and now, it has the power to destroy horcruxes."

Shocked, Harry let that information sink in. He had had no idea when he was twelve just how important that battle in the Chamber of Secrets had been. If he had never gone down into the Chamber of Secrets to save Ginny Weasley back when he was in his second year, then they wouldn't have had an extremely powerful horcrux killing weapon. It was strange how the world worked.

"As bringing the sword of Gryffindor here was impossible, I took the liberty of extracting some fangs from our old basilisk friend, just in case. I feel that you should take a couple of these, Harry."

Dumbledore reached into his robes, and pulled out two giant fangs from his pocket. Harry gaped at them in shock. Dumbledore had been walking around with basilisk fangs in his robes, just in case? And what exactly was Dumbledore proposing Harry did with them? "Me? Why do I need them?" he asked, taking them with a shaking hand. "If what you say is true, and I must die…"

"I think it would be beneficial to you. Help a tired old man out and assuage my fears?"

Harry sighed and placed the fangs carefully in his pocket. As usual, he was sure Dumbledore knew something he was not letting onto, however Harry decided to let it go for now. With a deep, shaky breath, Harry tried to compose himself. There was an important question he still needed to ask Dumbledore.

"The prophecy…" he whispered softly. "You know what it says, don't you? You know why he tried to kill me in when I was a baby."

Dumbledore looked at Harry over his half-moon spectacles, his eyes moist with unshed tears. "Yes. The prophecy was made to me by Professor Trelawney, on the day I interviewed her for her position at Hogwarts."

"Trelawney?" Harry asked, incredulous. "You mean she actually made a real prediction?" Harry asked, amazed and briefly distracted.

"She did," Dumbledore smiled briefly. "One of only two real predictions she appears to have made in her lifetime. The second, you witnessed yourself at school, when she predicted the escape of Peter Pettigrew." Harry screwed his nose up at that, not willing to remember the moments that led to Sirius being cooped up in Grimmauld place as a dangerous escaped criminal when he could've been a free man if Pettigrew hadn't escaped back to his master.

"Can you tell me the prophecy?" Harry asked quietly, after a brief pause. He had to know. Dumbledore closed his eyes fleetingly, and then he fixed his pale blue stare on Harry once more.

"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…".

The silence in the Atrium was absolute. Harry sat completely still, trying to work out the words that Dumbledore had spoken. Presumably, he was the baby born as the seventh month died. The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal…the scar was the literal marking. Voldemort had marked him as his equal by accidentally putting a piece of his own soul into Harry. Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. It was painfully clear what that meant. Especially now he knew about the soul inside him. To kill Voldemort, all the horcruxes must be destroyed. Harry was, accidentally or not, one of Voldemort's horcruxes now. To destroy the piece of soul inside him… Harry would have to let himself be killed. Harry's body seemed to go into shock as he thought about this. Shakes wracked his body, his lungs on fire as he forgot to breathe. Dumbledore had known all along, had kept Harry alive so that he could die at the correct moment. He had never intended for Harry to survive this.

"Neither can live while the other survives…" he whispered, partly to himself. "The piece of soul inside me… it has to be destroyed. So I must die?" His words sounded hollow in his own ears, echoing strangely. He spoke to Dumbledore, posing his words as a question but it was more of a statement. One look at Dumbledore confirmed his fears anyway. The old man had tears streaming down his face, and he looked pained. As he opened his mouth to say something to Harry, there was a flash of light behind them and they spun around, Harry's eyes widening in horror as he saw the tall, skeletal figure of Lord Voldemort appear in the Atrium in front of them. Dumbledore quickly threw Harry behind him, hiding him behind the fountain, and strode forwards to meet Voldemort head on.

Harry gasped silently, watching through a small gap in the fountain. Dumbledore was standing opposite Voldemort as they sized each other up. Nagini was floating next to him in what looked like a sphere of magical protection. It was clear now that Nagini must be the last horcrux, this was why Voldemort had her so well protected. How on earth were they supposed to kill her?

"Dumbledore…" Voldemort hissed in his high, cold, snakelike voice. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Hello, Tom," Dumbledore said almost pleasantly, if it wasn't for the ice cold undercurrent to his voice.

"So," Voldemort breathed, "here you are again attempting to thwart me, Dumbledore. I should not be surprised. You have always possessed that infuriating quality." Harry watched from behind the statue, breathing as quietly as possible. His heart raced, and he felt as though he could pass out at any moment. There was an almost tangible aura of magic around the powerfully evil wizard, the very air around him seemed to crackle.

"I aim to please," Dumbledore smiled blandly at Voldemort who narrowed his eyes perceptibly.

"My Death Eaters?"

"In the Death chamber, chained up and under the careful watch of the Order of the Phoenix."

Voldemort hissed angrily, lightning crackling in the air around him, scorching the marble floor where it touched it. "And the prophecy?"

"Destroyed in the battle. Perhaps you should have taken matters into your own hands, rather than put your trust in those who are unworthy of it. Bellatrix, by the way, is dead."

A cry of rage erupted from Voldemort, as he waved his wand and an inferno of fire erupted around him. Harry could feel the heat from where he stood behind the fountain. With a practised movement, Voldemort threw the fire at Dumbledore who calmly summoned the water from the fountain towards him in a tidal wave and crashed it upon the fire, putting it out in an instant. Harry's mouth fell open, astounded at the magic he was witnessing.

"And what of the Potter boy? I know he's around here somewhere," Voldemort screeched at Dumbledore, walking purposely forwards. As he neared the fountain where Harry stood, heart in his mouth, Dumbledore moved to stand in front of him, using some kind of magical shield to stop Voldemort walking any further.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes, praying to any god that would hear him to give him strength. Dumbledore was protecting him even now, when they both knew that the only way for Voldemort to die was for Harry to die too. Even now, he was giving Harry the choice to save himself. He opened his eyes and stood up straight, squaring his shoulders. He knew what had to be done, and putting off the inevitable would only make it harder in the long run. Picturing his loved ones around him, James, Lily, Sirius, all giving him strength, Harry took one last shaky breath and stepped out from his hiding place. It took all of his strength not to stumble and fall in front of Voldemort.

"I'm here," he said loudly and clearly. He did not want to look weak, not now. Voldemort turned towards him, a triumphant expression on his face. Dumbledore looked weary, drained. He met Harry's eyes one last time, a knowing glance passing between the two of them. He lowered his blackened wand hand, and with a sweep of Voldemort's arm was thrown to the ground seemingly unconscious, leaving no protection between Voldemort and Harry. They stood several metres apart, looking into each other's eyes. It was a mark of Voldemort's arrogance that he simply accepted his defeat over Dumbledore as if it would've been possible if Dumbledore hadn't wished it to happen.

"Harry Potter…" Voldemort spoke quietly, but his words sounded loud in the deathly silence surrounding them. "We meet again. And it seems, yet again, you have managed to ruin my plans."

"With pleasure," Harry said in an almost serenely calm voice. He had nothing to fear now. He had accepted his death, and now all he must do was let Voldemort fulfil the prophecy. Either must die at the hand of the other.

"It won't happen again. Damn the prophecy. I have you here now, at my mercy. No Dumbledore to help you, no Order of the Phoenix to run to the rescue. Just you and me, and I don't intend to let this chance slip away." Voldemort smirked at him and raised his wand almost lazily, pointing it directly at Harry's heart. It was beating far too quickly, as if it knew that soon it would beat no more. Harry took his wand in his shaky, sweaty hand, and threw it to the ground. He wished he could see Sirius's face one more time before he died. Voldemort looked at him with a surprised, somewhat arrogant expression on his face.

"So you won't even fight me? You die a coward, as I suspected."

"Do it." Harry said softly, fire behind his words. He looked Voldemort directly in the eye, emerald green against fiery red. The evil wizard took a moment longer to consider the man standing before him, and then spoke the words.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Voldemort shouted with glee, and as Harry accepted his fate, he saw a movement in his peripheral vision. The gods had taken some kind of sick pleasure in his last wish. The last thing Harry saw was the tortured expression on Sirius's face as he ran towards him from the lift, then the green spell hit Harry's chest and everything turned black.

Harry lay face down on the ground. A palpable silence surrounded him, almost deafening. Something told him that he was completely alone, there was no one else here. Wherever here was. Harry became aware that the surface he was lying on was cold and flat, and as he noticed that he realised he was naked. Blinking slowly, he opened his eyes and tried to make sense of his surroundings. He appeared to be floating in some kind of strange mist, but as he watched the mist began to form a high glass ceiling, and a vast open space. It looked almost like Kings Cross station.

Sitting up slowly, Harry thought very carefully about what was happening. Was he dead? He didn't feel very dead. And yet, this place certainly didn't appear to be of the living world. It was almost like it was a place that didn't exist until Harry appeared there and made it exist, even now the edges of the building still appeared to be made of some strange white mist. As Harry puzzled over his existence, he heard a strange noise and he turned abruptly towards the source of it.

Underneath a white bench, some kind of twisted, dying creature was lying curled in the foetal position. Its skin was pink and raw, like the flesh had been torn from its body. The sound appeared to be the sick creature crying, it was clearly in distress. Harry walked cautiously closer to it, wishing now that he wasn't naked. Robes immediately appeared on his body, and he was grateful for them. Something about the creature frightened him, although it was clearly defenceless. The thing looked helpless, abandoned. Harry felt that he should help it somehow, but he was too repulsed to touch it. On the whole, he figured it would be best to leave the creature alone. It seemed beyond his help.

Harry turned and saw some other empty benches a small distance away, and he walked over to take a seat. He had some serious thinking to do. First of all, where was he, and why was he here? This place was eerie, silent, and didn't seem quite real. If Voldemort had killed him, then was this some kind of afterlife? It didn't seem like a heaven or a hell. A word came to him, and he thought about it for a moment. Limbo. Perhaps he was balancing somewhere between life and death, not able to travel onwards but not able to go back either. That seemed like the most likely explanation for where he was.

So then, why was he here? Voldemort had killed him. Harry sacrificed himself, he walked to his death, he let Voldemort kill him. So shouldn't he have gone on? Perhaps there was something he had to work out before he could go in either direction. But what? He needed to think back to what happened before he died. Dumbledore told him about the piece of soul that was trapped inside him. Harry shuddered slightly, still not comfortable with the fact that a piece of Voldemort had been inside his head for almost his entire life. He subconsciously raised his hand to touch the lightning bolt scar where presumably, the soul had entered. Strangely, it wasn't there. This puzzled him even further. So did that mean the soul was definitely gone from his body? He did feel different, almost lighter perhaps. Yes, Harry thought, the soul is gone. He knew it as completely as he knew he was in love with Sirius Black. Harry felt his heart sink as he remembered the expression on Sirius's face as he saw Harry killed by Voldemort. But it would do him no good to dwell on that now.

With this piece of Voldemort's soul destroyed, that meant that back in the real world, Voldemort could now be killed. Well, as long as someone killed the snake. Nagini was now the last piece of the puzzle, the final obstacle between Voldemort and death. That much was clear. Now, if he could only work out why he was here in the first place. He felt like it had something to do with Voldemort. It had to. Everything in his life seemed to have something to do with Voldemort. The two of them and been inexorably linked ever since he was a baby. He thought carefully, trying to remember everything Dumbledore had told him in the Ministry before Voldemort had turned up. Perhaps there was a clue there.

Dumbledore had spoken of the horcruxes, of how Voldemort had gone further than any other person on the journey to immortality. He had mentioned the prophecy… and the regeneration of Voldemort's body. Harry shuddered and thought back to that night, remembering the weird ritual that was performed. He now knew that Voldemort had been performing the ritual to bring someone back who had made a horcrux. He had taken the bones of his father, flesh of the servant… and blood of the enemy. Harry's blood.

Harry's heart suddenly raced, blood pumping hard. Blood was the answe. His blood flowed in Voldemort's veins. And what was it that flowed in Harry's own veins? His mother's sacrifice. She had died for him, and so her blood kept Harry alive, this was why he could live safely at Privet Drive, because Petunia also had Lily's blood. In trying to make himself as powerful as possible, Voldemort had made his worst mistake. They shared a piece of soul, and since Voldemort's return, they also shared blood. Voldemort had tied Harry to life while he himself lived. While Voldemort lived, Harry must live. And Harry had died, so that Voldemort may die. Two people, similar in upbringing. Two half-bloods, orphaned, hated by the muggles who raised them. They took such different paths, but were tied together. And now, the bond was broken. The soul was dead. Harry lived. And he could come back, to see that Voldemort died once and for all.

As if this was the queue it had been waiting for, the fog began to roll in around Harry. The train station disappeared before his eyes, the wailing of the twisted creature faded into silence, and everything around Harry turned once more to blackness. He was ready to come back.

Harry lay still, eyes closed, as he came to his senses and tried to work out what was happening. Was he back in the real world? He could hear sobbing, and as he focused more he realised the sound was right next to him. Someone was holding him, and crying. The last thing he had seen as Voldemort hit him with the killing curse… Sirius! Sirius saw him die. Harry blinked slowly, opening his eyes to see a distraught Sirius cradling Harry to his chest. Harry gently pulled back from Sirius's embrace so he could look at his face. Sirius gasped loudly in shock and his sobbing stopped immediately.

"Harry?" he gasped, in disbelief. "Harry? How can you be… you were dead…? I saw it, he killed you!"

Harry looked deeply into Sirius's grey eyes, and smiled softly. "I can't explain yet, Sirius. This has to end now."

He looked around, surveying the scene. Dumbledore was still on the floor where Voldemort had thrown him aside, and Harry thought he was actually unconscious until he saw the pale blue glint in his eyes. He looked at Harry as if he knew all along that he would come back. Harry rolled his eyes. He looked around further, knowing Voldemort must be somewhere around here. It appeared that Voldemort had been affected the same as Harry, he too was on the floor as if he had fallen unconscious.

Harry looked to Voldemort's side and saw Nagini on the floor. It seemed that when Voldemort had passed out, his protective spells on her had failed. She slithered across the marble floor, and Harry made the split second decision. This may very well be the only time to kill her, before Voldemort became aware that his protections had failed. Harry thanked Merlin that the all-knowing Dumbledore had given him basilisk fangs, although it still irked him that Dumbledore always seemed to know everything and yet explain nothing. Pulling a fang from his robes, Harry leapt towards Nagini and grabbed her head, trying to avoid her poisonous fangs that reached for his flesh and tried to attack. Quickly, Harry stabbed the basilisk fang into her head, straight through the brain, and she collapsed to the ground, convulsing slightly.

Harry backed away quickly, hearing the scream of rage as Voldemort, consciousness regained, leapt to his feet and looked down upon the corpse of his last remaining horcrux. Sirius grabbed Harry and pulled him backwards, shielding him from Voldemort with his own body. Voldemort pulled out his wand and growled in Harry's direction, and Dumbledore was on his feet in a second, pulling out his own wand and striding towards Voldemort to meet him head on.

Voldemort turned to Dumbledore, the powerful wizard was a much bigger threat to him at this moment than an un-armed Harry. The two wizards stood opposite each other, Voldemort glaring with ill-disguised rage, Dumbledore staring back with a deep hatred boiling beneath his calm exterior. Wands pointed at each other, there was a long second of silence as everyone seemed to hold their breath. Harry was minutely aware of every tiny sound in the room, and he gasped at the loud crack of apparition, spinning around to see the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, standing breathless in the middle of the room, complete with about ten Ministry officials and a look of complete shock and disbelief on his incredulous face.

Neither Voldemort or Dumbledore acknowledged the newcomers. As Harry, Sirius and the dumbfounded Ministry officials watched on with baited breath, both wands fired a green spell at the other, the killing curse glowing deadly emerald green. Harry felt that everything in his life had led to this moment. The spells hit each other in the middle of the two wizards. Dumbledore had a knowing glint in his eye as his killing curse, the more powerful, caused Voldemort's to rebound. Harry gasped as Voldemort's weaker killing curse rebounded and hit the evil wizard in the chest, along with Dumbledore's killing curse. A look of disbelief coloured his face as he fell to the floor, motionless. Vacant red eyes stared upwards into nothing. Tom Riddle was dead.

Silence fell, Harry's breath caught in his throat as his mind tried to catch up with what had just happened. You could've heard a pin drop in the atrium as everyone surveying the scene held their breath. Then, suddenly, Fudge was striding over to the carnage, a wild expression on his face, Dumbledore was conjuring himself a large, plush armchair to sit on and recuperate, and ministry officials began to swarm around Voldemort's body. They cast unidentifiable spells, looked sharply at each other, one brave man actually nudged the body with his foot.

"Blimey. He's actually dead!" One of them spoke up, his voice rasping loudly in the commotion. "Dumbledore did it! He killed You-Know-Who!"

Everyone started talking and shouting at once, Dumbledore was buried in a sea of ministry workers shooting questions at him, meanwhile Sirius let out a loud whoop of joy and pulled Harry into a tight hug. Harry let out the breath he had been holding in a whoosh, laughing breathlessly and finding that he couldn't stop. He embraced Sirius in return, burying his face in the older man's chest as he tried to control his laughter, tears spilling down his cheeks. He felt almost numb, not entirely sure what to feel. Elation was bubbling up, bursting through the confusion and shock. After spending nearly his entire life being followed by the constant threat of Voldemort, it was suddenly all over in a flash.

In all the commotion, Harry saw members of the Order arriving in the lift from the Department of Mysteries, spilling out into the atrium and racing towards the group of people in the middle of the room, eager to know what on earth had just happened. Dumbledore was still invisible in the throng of ministry officials so Harry was the one who was overwhelmed with sudden questions. They all seemed to notice the body on the ground at the same time, eyes widened, gasps uttered, clamouring to find out more.

"Harry! The Death Eaters downstairs, they all suddenly looked at their Dark Marks and panicked, we figured something must've happened but this… can it be real?" Remus asked Harry quickly, looking at Sirius for confirmation. Harry grinned and nodded.

"It was Dumbledore! They faced off against each other, they both cast the killing curse at the same time and Dumbledore's curse won. He's really dead!" Harry said, finding it weird to say out loud. Voldemort was dead. Tonks shouted out loud with joy, and started jumping up and down before hastily stopping to nurse a pain in her leg. Remus tutted and placed a soft kiss to her cheek, which immediately burned red as she blushed at his attention in front of everyone. Moody looked smug and told everyone in hearing range that he knew Dumbledore was up to something, that he was almost completely sure that this was going to happen tonight. Snape mostly hung around in the background, not wishing to talk to Harry if it wasn't entirely necessary, and rushed to talk to Dumbledore as soon as he was able. Harry answered a few more questions, and gathered from the Order that Kingsley was staying downstairs to watch over the Death Eaters, all of whom had suddenly experienced a lack of any feeling in their Dark Marks where they had always known a dull ache since Voldemort returned.

Several of the ministry officials were sent downstairs to deal with the Death Eaters, and the Order members rushed to fill their place interrogating Dumbledore, although in a much more respectful manner. Harry sighed, glad they were all okay but feeling overwhelmed after all the attention.

Sirius pressed a soft, gentle kiss to Harry's temple, and Harry smiled at him. Sirius was here, and that was more important than anything. For a moment, he thought that he'd lost him in the Death chamber, and the last thing Harry had said to Sirius was that he hated him for bullying Snape when he was in school. Harry cringed at how ridiculous and angry he had been. Yes, it was wrong of Sirius to do those things to Snape but it was in the past. He was a different person now, and in the grand scheme of things it didn't matter at all. What mattered now was that Voldemort was dead, Harry was free from his constant shadow and he and Sirius could be happy together.

Looking up from Sirius's chest, Harry saw Dumbledore making his way quickly towards them. He pulled away, beaming at the headmaster.

"You did it, professor! I can't believe he's really gone," Harry said shakily, still feeling odd to say it out loud.

"It was thanks to your sacrifice, Harry, that I had the opportunity. You brave, brave man. Soon we will sit down and discuss all that has happened, but first, rather more pressingly, Cornelius Fudge is making his way over here to interrogate us and I think it best that Sirius leaves."

Sirius frowned at this, keeping his arm wrapped firmly around Harry's waist. "I want to stay with him." Sirius said firmly, Harry smiled but he knew Dumbledore was right.

"Sirius, I didn't go through all of this just to lose you again. I can't see you get arrested, I can't have you taken away from me, not this time! I don't think I could get through it," Harry said quickly, panicking somewhat. He could see Fudge getting closer to them, an expression of triumph on his face as he spotted Sirius. The older man sighed, and pulled Harry into a hug again.

"Okay, okay, I'm going, but you'd better come back soon. Good luck," he said with a wry smile, looking at Fudge with defiance before apparating quickly out of the room. Fudge growled with frustration as he reached them, turning with a huff to Dumbledore.

"Black was right there, why didn't you stop him?!" He said angrily, gesticulating at Dumbledore. Harry thought it quite ridiculous that Fudge was angry at Dumbledore for letting Sirius go, when he had just watched him defeat the greatest Dark Lord the world had ever known.

"We'll get to that in time, Cornelius. I imagine you would like to speak to me about the death of Tom Riddle." Dumbledore smiled blandly at Fudge, and red patches appeared on the agitated wizard's cheeks.

"Tom whatnow? I presume you mean You-Know-Who- ".

"The least you could do is speak his name now that he's dead, Cornelius," Dumbledore spoke sharply. "Is there anything left to be afraid of?"

"Well now, that's precisely what I would like to talk to you about!" Fudge said, flustered, "how are we to know he's really dead this time? It happened before, and look where that ended up!"

"As I recall, it ended with you refusing to admit that he was back, until you saw me kill him not five minutes ago," Dumbledore spoke harshly. Fudge had the decency at least to look somewhat guilty.

"Yes, well, the evidence was very much not in your favour…".

"I think you'll find, Cornelius, that Lord Voldemort is well and truly dead. Last time this happened, on Halloween all those years ago, there was no body to be found. He disappeared, stayed in hiding, biding his time until he gained the strength to return. This time it is all over. You may examine his body, and I am sure you will detect the large amounts of dark magic that he used to return to this somewhat human form."

Fudge gaped at Dumbledore, then his gaze moved to Harry. "Ah, Potter, but of course you're here. Care to enlighten me on what exactly you had to do with all of this?"

Harry gulped, struggling to formulate a response. Luckily, Dumbledore came to his rescue, yet again.

"Harry and I will both be more than happy to answer your questions, if we may go somewhere more comfortable and private to discuss matters." He glanced around at the avid crowd of ministry officials who were not even trying to disguise their eavesdropping. Fudge nodded somewhat reluctantly, and led them into a small office off of the atrium. Harry took a deep breath, knowing this was not going to be easy. He only hoped he had the strength to recount everything that had happened to him. Thinking of Sirius, however, Harry smiled and knew that he would have the strength to do anything as long as he had that man by his side, even if he wasn't physically here now.

"Shall we begin?" Cornelius Fudge said, sitting at a desk holding a quill eagerly over a long roll of parchment. Dumbledore and Harry lowered themselves into two chairs in front of the desk, Dumbledore quickly squeezing Harry's shoulder. He was ready.

Several months later, Harry gazed at Sirius, the man he was irrevocably in love with. They were standing in the master bedroom of their new house that Sirius had bought shortly after being found innocent of his crimes. Time had flown by since the day that had made history, the day that Voldemort had been killed. The two of them had spent many hours since then discussing everything, Sirius had some especially pressing questions after seeing Harry be killed by Voldemort, then having him wake up in his arms. When he had heard how Harry sacrificed himself to allow Voldemort to be killed, all the colour had drained from his face and he hadn't let Harry out of his sight for days afterwards, as if Harry would disappear after all if he lost sight of him.

Cornelius Fudge had naturally stepped down as Minister for Magic after the dramatic events leading up to Voldemort's death. It was hardly appropriate to remain Minister after denying for months that Voldemort had returned, only to have him turn up dead in Fudge's own workplace, along with a gang of Death Eaters. Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped up to be the temporary Minister after Fudge's emergency dismissal, and was later voted in as the official replacement. Harry couldn't be happier with the choice, he had a much more level head than Fudge and he knew exactly what he was doing.

Another upside to this turn of events was that Kingsley, as Minister for Magic, knew exactly what happened with Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black, and started an immediate search for the elusive Death Eater rat. After a tense few weeks of Sirius being cooped up in Grimmauld place again, Pettigrew was found and put to trial, spilling his confession under the duress of Veritaserum. Sirius was cleared of all charges to the shock of the general public, and celebrated by buying a nice new modern house in the middle of nowhere that looked nothing like his childhood home. Harry and Sirius spent a secluded few weeks there, just the two of them, recovering from the everything they had been through. Many nights were spent running through the surrounding English countryside as dog and raven, enjoying the feeling of being free.

One day Harry received a message by owl that took him completely by surprise. Dumbledore, still insisting on being Hogwarts headmaster after turning down the position of Minister for Magic once again, wrote to him to invite him back to Hogwarts to complete his education. It would mean starting from his fifth year and therefore being a year older than everyone else in his year, but Harry was more than happy to go back to the castle that he never thought he'd see again, the first place he could ever call home. Sirius was somewhat moody when Harry told him the news, and he felt bad for leaving Sirius again, but he reminded the older wizard that he was completely free to come and visit Scotland whenever he wanted, and the very map that Sirius had created himself gave Harry explicit knowledge on how to sneak into Hogsmeade to come and see him. Sirius grinned at this and told him he would make a Marauder of him yet.

Ron and Hermione were together now. They hadn't told Harry to start with, but he could tell. The way they looked at each other, it was obvious how they felt. Harry guessed that they had grown closer in the year that Harry had been out of Hogwarts, and it had been just the two of them. Harry had just come out and asked them, eventually, and after much blushing and stammering he had ascertained that they had been in a relationship for a few weeks now. Harry was so happy for them, that they had found a love much easier to live with than Harry and Sirius's. No matter how difficult it was to keep their love a secret, however, Harry would never change it for the world.

Sirius himself was standing next to Harry now, his hands firmly wrapped around his waist, hugging him tightly as he pressed lingering kisses on his neck and jaw. Harry hummed in appreciation, running his own hands gently up and down Sirius's toned back. Sirius turned his head, capturing Harry's lips in a searing kiss, which Harry moaned into and deepened, delving his tongue into Sirius's warm mouth and exploring his musky taste. Their tongues moved slowly and sensually against each other, setting a delicious rhythm that Harry was loath to halt as he paused to draw breath. They breathed heavily against each other, kiss swollen lips just barely touching.

Harry was so incredibly happy to be here with Sirius, in their own home, together without the threat of Voldemort hanging over them anymore. He had never known freedom like this. Smiling to himself, Harry relaxed into Sirius's gentle touch as he lightly massaged Harry's back, kissing him softly on his collar bone, along the tendon in his neck, nibbling on his ear lobe. Holding back a low moan, Harry ran his hands over Sirius's tight muscles in his stomach and chest, enjoying the feeling of the soft hairs leading downwards.

Feeling the tell-tale hardness in his pants, Harry decided it was a good idea for them to move to the bed. He gently pushed Sirius backwards, walking them to the massive plush bed that took up most of the space in their bedroom. Harry was immeasurably glad to have this bed back after his first term back at Hogwarts. He had missed that castle more than he could ever have expected, yet it just didn't feel the same anymore. It just wasn't home anymore, not now that he had experienced living with Sirius. The once comfortable dormitory bed now felt empty and cold, and he wished he had Sirius next to him to warm it up. There had of course been that one night that Harry, wide awake and horny, had somehow convinced Sirius to sneak down the secret passageway from Hogsmeade and meet him in the castle, at which point they had giggled their way to Harry's bed, cast as many silencing spells as they could and continued to have amazing sex right there in the fifth year boy's dormitory. Sirius had seemed extremely guilty afterwards and sadly it had been a one off, but Harry had spent many a late night in his dormitory remembering that moment fondly.

Before they sank down on the bed, Harry pulled out his wand and carefully removed all of their clothing with a non-verbal spell. He had become conveniently efficient at this particular charm. Standing back a little, Harry raked his eyes appreciatively over the delicious man standing in front of him. Tall, dark and handsome, that was certainly the right way to describe Sirius. His dark hair flopped effortlessly over his face, almost concealing tenacious grey eyes which were currently bright and glazed with arousal. Perfectly sharp cheekbones and jawline, a well-toned stomach and chest, a dark trail of hair leading down to one of Harry's favourite features of Sirius's… which was currently very much standing to attention.

They both laid down on the bed, Harry straddling Sirius's hips. Their lips crashed together once more, kisses becoming more heated as Harry subconsciously began grinding himself against Sirius's thigh. Sirius's moan was muffled by Harry's deft tongue, a gentle hand guiding Harry until their rock hard members were grinding against each other. Waves of pleasure ran through Harry and he felt their bodies heating up, a layer of sweat building up on their skin, salty to the taste, bodies sliding against each other.

Breaking the kiss reluctantly, Harry reached over to the cabinet and pulled out their trusty bottle of lube. Still sitting on top of Sirius, Harry looked him in the eye and carefully poured some lube out onto his own hand, reaching down between his legs to prepare himself. Sirius's eyes flickered shut briefly as he let out a loud moan. "Merlin, Harry, the things you do to me…" he growled, running his hands over Harry's chest, his face, running his fingers through his hair, eyes opened wide now as Harry scissored his fingers in and out of himself, stretching himself for Sirius. Finding his prostate, Harry massaged it gently, eyes shuddering closed, a deep throaty noise ripped from his throat almost beyond his control.

Eventually, Harry deemed himself ready for Sirius. His cock was dripping, already getting close to the edge before Sirius had even entered him. Looking down, he saw that the older man was in exactly the same state as him. Licking his lips, Harry looked on with interest as Sirius guided Harry gently down onto him, his thick, dripping cock filling him up. Harry let out a gasp and held himself in place, taking a moment to get used to the feeling. There was nothing quite like it, the feeling of being so full. After a moment, he flexed his muscles and raised himself up, almost drawing himself completely off of Sirius before slamming back down onto him, enveloping Sirius in his hot, tight entrance. They both let out loud moans, Harry riding Sirius and beginning to pick up a quick rhythm.

The muscles in his legs were burning, his whole body felt as if it was on fire, but Harry couldn't stop. The two of them moved together as one, their movements becoming quicker and jerkier as they reached the edge. Sirius grasped Harry's cock with a sweaty hand, and only a few quick pulls later Harry was climaxing, his seed spilling all over Sirius's chest, stomach, his hand. Harry contracted tightly around Sirius and the feeling pushed the older man over the edge, following Harry into an incredible orgasm. The two of them collapsed onto the bed in a sticky mess, lungs fighting to regain control as they breathed heavily.

"Wow," Harry huffed out, laughing slightly in his euphoric post-coital bliss. Sirius turned and smirked at him, winking in his effortlessly sexy way, and Harry's grinned to himself. He still wasn't sure what exactly he had done to deserve this incredible man, but he was going to treasure every moment that they had together. They had both almost lost each other several times in their lives, and Harry was not going to let it happen again.

Their relationship was just as unconventional as the two of them were, unexpected yet perfect in its way. After all, who else could Harry ever be this close with? The two of them were meant for each other. The closest people to them knew the truth, and perhaps some of their other friends and family would find out in time, but perhaps not. The two of them were perfectly happy to live out their lives in their little secluded home, away from prying eyes. What other people didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Harry lay on the bed, eyes closed, a vacant expression on his face as he dozed lightly and dreamed of a quiet marriage ceremony, just the two of them with Remus, Ron and Hermione in the audience. Sirius placing the ring on his finger, and Harry placing Sirius's on in return. A vow to stay together forever. Harry smiled fondly, butterflies in his stomach at the thought. But he was still young, and for now he was happy to continue as they were now. They had their whole lives to live out together, and that was exactly what he intended to do, without fear this time. Harry's scar had not pained him since the battle of the Ministry of Magic. All was well.

The End

A/N: Well there you have it! I finally finished it, nearly three years later. Whoops! I really hope you enjoyed it, and please do leave me a review to let me know what you thought of it all. Thank you :)