Hey everyone, so I have been sitting on this for a bit while trying to finish Year in Perdition. Now that, that story is complete I am turning my attention back to the colaberation I am doing with cherryteapot (Malifecent misunderstandings) and this merlin/harry potter crossover. I have finished the first four chapters and am currently working on the fifth. From I will be posting as I write for here on out (for the most recent notice on where I am at in updating stories look on my profile)

This will be SLASH!-which if you read or follow me should not be a suprise at this point. Either way I am warning you now, if you do not like slash-male/male relationships; either explict or non then DO NOT READ this. It always astounds me that no matter how often I state this I still get reviewers complaining to me that it is slash. So I will say this now-I do not care if you are oftended by homosexual relationships. I do not care if it goes against your morals, principles or whatever god you choose to follow. I am not forcing you to read this. I am not tricking you into doing so. So if you continue on from here...any offesense you precieve you have incurred from reading about men loving men is on you.

Ok, now that that is out of my system-to all those who do enjoy reading stories with slash I hope you enjoy this one. Let me know what you think! ;)

-hp

Prologue: we all Fall Down

Don't grieve. Anything that you lose will come round in a different form-Rumi

It was the silence that Harry would remember most from his final sojourn in this once beautiful and fascinating world. Not the screams and bellows caused by two sides of warring opponents—both desperate to come out as victor; not the electrical snapping of a great and ancient magical ward, slowly falling under the barrage of spells volleyed at it; not even his own panicked heart beat. Just silence.

It was the silence that came with finality; of knowing that this was it, that there would be no second chance to back out…to change his mind. And even though he was sure of his decision; a decision made nearly a year ago that had since guided his actions and choices —he couldn't help but feel a small spasm of fear: a lingering sense of doubt pushing him to wonder if this really was his best option. Was death really the best possible outcome to the past turbulent six years of his life?

And he knew as he drew closer to it; to the place where he would finally embrace the haunting shadow that had ruled his life that it was. Really, it was the best for everyone and as much as he would miss those few people who had managed to see past the 'Boy-Who-Lived' skin that he had worn day in and day out since entering this world, it would be better this way. He smiled—a smile perhaps a tad bitter and self mocking—as he realized that his old title; 'The boy who lived' would most definitely not fit him for much longer…for living had never been part of his plan.

But he knew what he had to do; he even looked forward to it in a slightly warped way….

For in freeing them, he would be free himself.

And with that final thought he stepped confidently into the forest clearing.

"Hello Harry Potter, have you come to die?" would be the second last sentence that he would hear in this world.

"Avada Kedavra" was the last.

*Notes*

Chapter Title: From the Nursery Rhyme Ring around the Rosie

-The origin of the poem may actually rest with the original Black Death outbreak of the mid-fourteenth century. Under this interpretation, "Ring Around the Rosie" is actually a grim remembrance of a cataclysmic event as opposed to a cheery children's nursery rhyme. The first line, "Ring around the Rosie," or some variation, describes the buboes that formed. A bubo is a swelling in the lymph node. This swelling is often circular making up the "ring." The center turns black and is surrounded by a red rash. The "rosie" is the center of this reddish ring.

As the victim's condition worsened, an odor emanated from them. The living began rotting before becoming a corpse. In response, healthy individuals used flowers to cover the odor. The poem recounts these attempts to disguise the smell in the second verse, "a pocket full of posies." The posies represented fourteenth century air fresheners.

The third stanza continues to recount symptoms. In the British version, children sing "Atch chew! Atch-chew!" copying the unmistakable sound of a sneeze. The American version altered the sneeze to "Ashes! Ashes!" Some believe ashes represent cremation. However, it could simply be an Americanization of the tale.

After the disease runs its course, the victims usually die. The last line in the poem announces death's arrival with a dramatic "we all fall down." The use of "we" denotes the apocalyptic nature of the disease and the times. No one survives the apocalypse and no one survives the plague.