Facing The Kiss.

There were several powerful emotions, which were prevalent in the air that night, as Harry made the lengthy walk through the corridors towards the room where the few friends whom knew the hole truth were waiting.

There was fear. Not for himself, but for what he would be forced to face as he would make himself look into the Dementors cold, unseeing eyes. The last time he had truly faced one had been in his third year, and so much more had happened since then.

There was anticipation. Not the sick, empty anticipation, which he had experienced … had it really only been three months ago..? This time it was the anticipation of relief. What ever happened in that room today, one way or another it would be over and done with.

There was a hint of sorrow. If things went wrong, it wouldn't be him who was left suffering this time. Over the last little while he had come to develop a ready fondness for Snape. He had needed help, and the man had been there. He didn't want to think about what it would do to him, if it didn't work out.

In the short time that they'd had, they had burnt the midnight oil many a time, both opening up, and showing a little at a time to one another. And Harry was finally beginning to understand something which, truth be said, he ought to have realised a long time ago. Just because he hadn't been able to trust, because a few people had hated him it didn't mean that the entire world was like that. The thin bond between himself and Snape had been something good for the both of them.

He wasn't ready. He would never truly be ready. Not any more. But at least once it was done then it was done.

He hesitated outside the door, trying to swallow around a lump in his throat. This is it…

As he stood, staring, a warm hand sloped its self into his grasp, and squeezed briefly, offering a comfort that he would never have been comfortable with mere weeks ago. But now, he was grateful for it. He raised his head, moving his eyes from the heavy wooden door, to look into Snapes' black eyes, once again admiring the way the expression in them had changed from a cold one which reminded a person of the depths of a cold winter, to a humane warmth.

"Well," Snapes' voice was hesitant, and halting, "It would probably be foolish of me to ask if you were actually ready for this, yes?"

"No, si…," Harry caught himself just in time. Snape had put his foot down about being called Sir by his own child almost as soon as he had realised the family ties between them.

"No, not really." Harry began again, "And I appreciate that you would ask."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because…," Harry started, and then stopped, as he actually began thinking about it. There was no reason why he shouldn't expect Snape to show some concern. Not any more. The gaping chasm, which had divided them since Harry's first year of Hogwarts, was well and truly gone.

"No reason." He whispered.

Then, returning the pressure of Snapes' grasp, he lifted his free hand and pushed the door open.

There were only three people whose presence he had cleared, but even so, he had still been prepared for half the British wizarding population to have been crammed into that tiny room at the end of the hallway. It was entirely to his amazement, that the Ministry had actually kept to his request.

Three people, and one of those was at his side already.

Severus.

Reamus.

And of course the one person who had been faithful every step of the way. Albus.

One by one, he caught each of their eyes.

Ahh well. If thing were fucked up today then at least the Ministry would have one hell of a time covering things up.

With that thought, he amazed himself with a tiny, almost soundless chuckle.

Then he looked at the chair where, for safety, that of his own, and the others around him, he would be bound.

It was too much like the memories he had witnessed in the Pensive, and for a few moments he was seized with an almost overpowering desire to tear his hand free from his fathers, and simply run for it.

For a few seconds he almost succeeded in convincing himself that if he ran far enough, and fast enough, that everything would go back to the way it once had been.

And then there would be no danger any more. No risk.

That he would just go to sleep one night, and wake up the next day to find himself in his cupboard at the Dursleys, with Dudley jumping up and down on the stairs, and Petunia yelling at him to hurry up with breakfast, and everything that he had been through in the last seven years would have been a dream.

Snape caught his eye, and not for the first time Harry was struck by the uncanny sensation that the man could read his mind even before he had finished forming the thoughts.

He lowered himself into the chair, hating the way the chains instantly sprang to life, wrapping around his arms as though they had been infused with the spirits of wild snakes.

Snape took a few steps back, and locked his gaze with the boys' before he nodded.

"You were always right, you know."

"Huh?"

"I always had an extremely strong aptitude for empathy. Not just emotions, but thoughts as well."

At that Harry found his lips curving upwards into a tiny smile.

And then, a deathly chill flooded into the small room. Harry closed his eyes for a few seconds, before forcing himself to watch. It was even worse, not to know when it was going to reach him.

Snape shivered as a deathly chill stole into the room. It instantly put him into the mind of when he had been twenty-three, and held by those… those… things, as he'd awaited his trial on the charge of Willing service to the Dark Lord.

He'd hated every moment of it, and had done everything in his power since then, to avoid them. As had everyone, he'd supposed, that had ever been force to spend any amount of time among those monsters.

If their had been any other way out, then he would have jumped at it. He hadn't actually realised that the Dementor had been created for a purpose once upon a time. He'd always just figured that they had been the product of one hell of a magical accident.

And then, even as he stood thinking, the black robed shape drifted into the room, and he found himself looking at the creature which would be either Harry's' salvation, or alternately, his own undoing.

Everything weighed on what was going to happen here, now.

He wished, looking at the way that the boy, his son was shivering, that he could trade places with him. It had been so short a time, and yet already, he would rather endure the Kiss himself, then see the boy subjected to it.

He swallowed, as that black hood lowered towards Harry's' face, quickly obscuring it from view.

All of a sudden he couldn't help it. He took a couple of quick steps forwards, as though to tear the monster away, and it was only Lupine's light yet strong hand, which wouldn't be pushed aside, grasping his arm which prevented him. The werewolves' voice was soft.

"Hold fast, Severus."

"It's hard…"

He had never truly hated the werewolf. It had only been his fool friends who had lead him into danger. Just over a year ago, Lupine had finally had his chance to explain the full story of what had happened to Snape. And, for the first time in his life, he had listened.

"I know. But he's strong…"

The two lapsed back into silence. It almost felt like it were sacrilege to talk, with what was happening before them.

And something was happening now. Where, before, there had been a total stillness up the front, there was now a wild, violent shaking.

And then, even though it felt like it had taken forever to get to this one particular moment, everything afterwards felt as though it ware happening at once.

The Dementor rocked back, as though as though a crow bar had been suddenly and violently forced between it and Harry. It rocked back, and crumpled in on it's self, like an empty Muggle Halloween costume.

Then, it tore apart, from inside its self, exploding outwards in a blinding burst of white light.

Snape saw the white light. And then, he felt something the likes of which he had never experienced before.

It was a feeling like everything was all right in the world. And, at that moment, he knew that it never would be again.

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There is a place, which exists outside of time and space, accessible only to the dead and the dieing, and a very rare few, whom are capable of transcending the barriers of time and space at the side of those who are leaving this world.

It is known, among those few whom see it, and survive to tell the tale, as the Dravid erd Kramunt, if one wishes to refer to it in the old language of High Magick, or, in the common tongue, it is simply known as Final Farewell.

For, it is here that a few lucky loved ones have a chance to say goodbye.

It is not divided between those whom are magical, and those who are normal. It is accessible only to those whom are considered the best of the best. It has not been seen by anyone, magic of Muggle, in over three hundred years.

But two, today, will come to know it.

-Back in the Chamber-

As the Dementor crumpled, the chains binding Harry down fell away, and he rose to his feet. His eyes, which had mere moments ago be a nervous green and black, were now totally burning scarlet, and as his body move towards the three people who had gathered, his feet hung centimetres above the stone ground, like a malevolent ghost.

One hand rose, and as it did, it began to shift and morph. The skin became deathly white, the fingers long and twisted.

-Dravid erd Kramunt-

As the white light which had blinded Snape finally cleared, he found himself standing in the middle of a massive stone chamber. All around the sides were columns, much like what would have been found in an old Roman Colosseum, carved with blue runes which could never be read, because, as one looked at them they were already changing to form more words.

A man whom he was hard pushed to see anything of Harry in stood before him, a smile of pure bliss on his face. Black-green eyes, which burnt with an inner fire. Thin, yet beautiful lips. Tall, and with black and red hair down to the small of his black. Skin, which was several shaded lighter than Harry's had ever been.

This was Harry as he was truly meant to be.

-Back in the Chamber-

Magic built up at those pointing fingertips, to deliver a blast which would have held sufficient power to tear the building around them in half. But before it had a chance to be released a blast of green light, from the only person whom hadn't been frozen in place struck the body of the boys chest.

The Dark Lord was now, finally, well and truly gone.

He looked towards where Snape had been standing, a heavy weight hanging in his chest.

Where Snape was no longer standing. He, too, was lying on floor.

He'd once thought that he would have been willing to do anything to rid the world of the Dark Lord for once and for all. But the price had been so damned high.

-Dravid erd Kramunt-

The young man before him blinked his eyes, and Snape could see a deep set exhaustion in his features.

"Harry?" Snape breathed the name, as though afraid that speaking would make this place dissolve around him.

"I just wanted…," The boy cleared his throat, before he continued, "I just wanted to say thank you. For every kindness that you've shown me. For giving my heart a reason to beat. For giving my soul a reason to live."

Snape couldn't reply.

"I need to move on. And you need to go back. You need to tell them all not tom worry about me any more."

"But…"

"There are no buts. That's the way things are."

He felt arms, which were as solid as they had been in life wrap around his shoulders.

"You still have a lot of work to do here. Truth said, I don't envy you," the boys tone was light, as though he no longer had a care in the world. And that, in a way, was the truth of it.

Not a care in the world, because he was free from the world.

"I will see you again. Have no doubt about that."

A beautiful female which Harry had never met in living memory came into view at the top of the stairs.

"Severus," she said, nodding warmly towards him, "I'll take things from here. You have done well."

"Thank you Lilly," he said, as Harry drew away from him and mounted the stairs, pausing only at the top to glance back over his shoulder.

"Goodbye, Dad."

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Severus woke, in a comfortable bed, with Madam Pomfrey fussing over him. For once in his life he knew that while things may not be easy, as such, they were finally going to be alright.

The struggle of the Boy Who Had Lived had finally come to an end.

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A.N I just wanted to say a masive thank-you to everyone who has joined me on this journey, and for all of the support and encoragement which you've given me. My first complete fanfiction story is at an end. Now, lets all party.