Disclaimer: It's JKR's not mine, and the way things are going that is never going to change.

A/N: Sorry for the long gap in updating, but this story will be finished before I update my other story, so hang with me for the next few weeks as I bring it all to a close.

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The world had been tilted on its axis following the revelations of Christmas and the smattering of attacks on the New Year holiday. Harry and Hermione had awoken and had immediately known the significance of everything that had happened. Voldemort had indeed become Harry's equal, by doing the one thing no one thought he would be capable or willing to do, he had placed his soul with Bella's in an all or nothing gamble to defeat Harry and his bondmate.

The first thing the Gryffindor pair had done was opt out of their classes, instead devoting their time to independent study; all the while Hermione was pushing Harry to continue their N.E.W.T level studies.

The entire castle began to feel like a rubber band stretched to its very end as the calendar shifted to February, and then March. Sadly no one could fight the inexplicable pull of destiny, and it would have its final showdown come hell via Riddle or high-water.

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March 3rd Room of Requirement 11 am

Harry felt the sweat bead and drip down his brow as he continued the repetitive pull ups in the room of requirement. Hermione was off working on some new experimental spells, which left him here to push the boundaries of his conditioning even further than they had been before. With so much on the line he didn't want something like being winded to determine his fate against Voldemort.

So focused on the task at hand he was, that he never heard the door to the room quietly open and admit Hermione and the headmaster talking animatedly about Arithmancy constructs in spell designs.

"I quite agree Miss Granger, but you mustn't forget to factor in how different the power quotient is for a witch or wizard of you or your fiancé's caliber." Dumbledore explained patiently

Hermione however was no longer listening to the headmaster as she took on Harry's glistening form in all of its respective glory. While Harry would never be a bodybuilder, his muscles were… amazingly defined and basically told anyone who ever got close enough to see the way he filled out clothes, that he was not someone to be trifled with. Hermione broke off her none too subtle ogling, feeling briefly mortified at doing something so carnal in front of Dumbledore, but the feeling quickly passed as she reasserted herself into the conversation.

"That wasn't the point I was arguing Professor, I merely asked what the practical applications of the spell were for the average witch or wizard." Hermione replied reasonably.

The quiet discussion was eventually enough to pull Harry from the pull up bar as he dropped to the floor and grabbed a towel the room had provided to dab at his face as he walked over to his visitors.

Harry arched his eyebrow as he approached and asked, "So what's all of this about then?"

Hermione waved the question away and asked one of her own, "Could you put a shirt on, you're distracting me with all of your muscles love."

Harry wandlessly summoned a t-shirt and pulled it on before Hermione continued, "Thank you, now I was discussing some proximity spells that should be cast on the grounds with Professor Dumbledore in case of an attack by Voldemort's forces."

Harry nodded as the room supplied a cold glass of water before he took a deep drag from the glass and said, "I don't know enough about the lay out of the grounds in an actual battle simulation to make any judgments. We did some simulations on the grounds for the D.A. last year, but I doubt it would be the same, especially with the reapers' skill levels compared to the deatheaters."

Hermione frowned but nodded, "Yes I suppose you're right Harry." Turning to Dumbledore she added, "Professor, I think we should look over the final preparations in case we think of something you might forget, but feel free to make something suitable on your own time."

Harry hid a small grin at his fiancé bossing the headmaster around, but Dumbledore himself seemed more amused than anything else. "I shall endeavor to not disappoint with my efforts Ms. Granger. But, for now I must excuse myself I have other matters to deal with."

As the door swing closed Hermione's eyes took on a wicked gleam as she wandlessly locked the room of requirement's one current entrance and huskily said, "You're all sweaty, I think it's time I washed you."

Harry merely smirked as he removed his t-shirt once again, alternative kinds of exercise never hurt, a little variety was good for most things.

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March 17th 6 pm

Everyone had found different ways of coping with the impending battle that would decide if Britain remained in the light, or was once again plunged into darkness.

While Harry and Hermione had resorted to redoubling their training for a duel with Voldemort and Bella that was sure to happen, their friends were still picking up the tatters of their lives in different ways.

For Mathias and Luna it involved some very slow healing, and for the male Ravenclaw that meant learning defensive spells that would indeed work against witches and wizards of Harry and Hermione's power levels.

Fortunately he had found spells that worked by nullifying the very magic around them, the problem was they came at a rather large cost in terms of magic expenditure. It wasn't the sheer power so much as the fact that they prevented your body from immediately replenishing the magic being used, much different from your standard protego shield to be sure.

While he had buried himself in learning these new and somewhat dangerous types of magic he had neglected Luna, even if that wasn't his wish to do so. She had after all been there for him after his dad's death, and he highly doubted he would have been of much use if not for her support during the following weeks.

Today he was once again buried in the back of the library searching for spells when Luna wandered to his spot and wordlessly sat down. Expressing himself had become much harder since his dad had died, but he figured he owed to Luna to try.

"I'm sorry Luna." Mathias stated in a soft but scratchy voice, which had more to do with disuse than the location.

Luna merely nodded before she reached over and took her hand in his. It wasn't a big step, but it was a necessary one.

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April 3rd Slytherin Common Room 7 pm

In the Dungeons at Hogwarts, things had gradually begun to spiral out of control for the two Slytherin members of the DA, in their attempts to keep the majority of their house at the very least neutral in the conflict ahead. The Durmstrang transfers had officially taken the house over by this time without the aid of the feisty Ginny Weasley to keep some of the fringe students on the straight and narrow.

The petite redheaded girl was merely an automaton these days, her eyes were dull and her entire demeanor was listless at best. She attended classes, handed in the homework, and even got decent grades, but her life seemed more like a preparation for the end than anything else. Letters from Percy and Penny would often be answered with short responses, and nothing of substance ever came out, which in many ways was exactly what had happened to Ginny Weasley. Having her heart broken by Draco Malfoy was not something she had ever counted on, and now that it had happened she often would look in the mirror as if trying to will some more life into her eyes.

Percy had been brazen enough to suggest she actually talk to Draco and meet some kind of accord, if for nothing else than to drag his little sister out of this self destructive spiral she was trapped in. Of course Percy's suggestion was met with nothing, no fight, none of the spunk that Ginny would once have shown to such a suggestion.

As she blankly stared out from a corner chair in the common room, even the most malicious of the Slytherins really felt no need to torment the poor girl.

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April 15th Hogwarts 3 pm

"What I am about to show you will be surprising and difficult to understand. I shall endeavor to explain everything in detail once we enter the memory." Dumbledore calmly explained in his office on this sunny early spring day.

"Is this your memory or someone else's headmaster?" Hermione asked in a curious tone of voice.

Dumbledore grimaced, which was rather strange looking before he replied, "It is not my memory, but I was there Ms. Granger. For reasons which will become clear momentarily I ask that you forestall any further questions for the moment."

Hermione nodded, but her brow furrowed as she attempted to puzzle out what the headmaster was being so reticent about. Taking Harry's offered hand; they all dipped their heads into the memory and were pulled in, for an indeterminate amount of time.

The three visitors glanced around, the younger two surprised to find themselves in a large cathedral, with all the telltale signs of it being converted into some form of a wartime shelter.

Dumbledore looked very resigned as he explained, "This is the location of my final duel with Grindelwald. Here some disturbing truths about my past will be revealed. In order to reduce the magnitude of shock I will explain some background."

Steeling himself Dumbledore continued, "The memory I showed of my wife's death was not the first time I had met Octavius Grindelwald. In fact I was a close friend of Grindelwald's before the death of someone close to me forced me to end our friendship. Octavius took my rejection very hard, and it forced him down the path of evil that you have all doubtlessly heard of in your history of magic classes."

Hermione frowned, "Grindelwald was always a blood purist from what I've read professor he came from a long line of radical blood purists, didn't he?"

Dumbledore sighed, "Indeed he did Ms. Granger, and while it pains me to admit it, there was a time when my beliefs were as such also."

Hermione's eyes went wide before some sort of understanding flashed into them, "When you said someone close to you died, you're referring to your sister, aren't you?"

Dumbledore nodded sadly as he continued to lead the two Gryffindor through the cathedral, "I was very single minded in my youth and it led to the neglect of my sister, and sadly it ended in her death. The specifics of my life are too painful to dwell on too fully, but needless to say I was responsible more for her death than I would ever care to admit. Marcus had already fled to America at this time, and I was the only real remaining option to be the man of the house, a responsibility I was not prepared for."

Dumbledore lifted a trembling hand to his face, before he sighed heavily, "Due to the nature of the dissolution of our friendship, Octavius changed dramatically and delved even deeper into the blood purist sentiment than he had been in his early years. He was not a man I knew by the time I had reached him in this cathedral. This memory is from a wizard, who caught the end of the duel, which I believe will be sufficient in terms of explanation. I obliviated the memory from my own mind immediately afterward, and this is the first time I will have experienced these events in over fifty years. You will recognize the other wizard, as a young and considerably less scarred Alastor Moody."

Sure enough as they walked through the final archway they came upon Moody standing a good distance away as a younger Dumbledore and Grindelwald traded curses at a remarkable speed.

The younger Dumbledore dodges a nasty look black curse and wandlessly disarmed his opponent with a flourish. The younger Moody whooped with this as Grindelwald's eyes widened in fear. Like an avenging angel Dumbledore stalked his helpless prey, "I know of your inability to do wandless magics Octavius, and you would be foolish to fight me with the muggle gun you have hidden in your boot. Accept your end with some small measure of grace, and perhaps your next great adventure may begin more peacefully."

Grindelwald spat at Dumbledore's feet, bleeding slowly he muttered in an accented tone, "I vill be avenged Albus, my son vill carry on this blood feud and his son after him. They will not rest until you are buried, and answerable to your crimes as well."

Dumbledore shook his head, "Octavius, I apologize for how our friendship ended, but you never understood the pain my sister's death caused me. Lest we forget it was your wand that killed her, even if my actions were implicit in the end result."

Grindelwald was slowly slumping down to the ground as this all progressed, and it appeared as if he was resigning himself to his end fate. Dumbledore continued, "That being said, I will not honor you with a death by my wand. You shall die by the same measure which you aided those muggle monsters that executed millions of muggles and wizards alike." Reaching into a pocket of his robes he pulled a revolver out and cocked the pistol.

Grindelwald didn't say a word as Dumbledore unloaded the six shots into his head before vanishing the body with a flick of his wand. The young Moody ran forward at this point and this memory began to fade out. Harry and Hermione shared an indecipherable look before they were all ejected from the memory and placed back into the headmaster's office.

Dumbledore looked as drained as either Harry or Hermione had ever seen him as he sat down heavily in his seat behind his desk.

Steepling his fingers he stated heavily, "As you can well imagine, seeing this memory has opened some very old wounds for me."

Harry respectfully asked, "While I understand why you wanted to have the memory obliviated headmaster, why did we need to see it exactly?"

Dumbledore exhaled a deep breath before he replied, "I needed you to see how very little triumph you will find when you defeat Tom and Mrs. Lestrange. There won't be any wondrous moments for a very long time after you remove your enemy. You must learn to lean heavily on each other, and those you call friends, and while I have no death wish I fear I shall not long survive this battle."

Harry and Hermione both gasped before the bushy haired witch said, "But, professor you can't."

Dumbledore regained some of the twinkle in his eyes as he benignly replied, "It is not my wish to die Ms. Granger, merely a matter of only being able to avoid the inevitable for so long. For the first time in many years I have hope for a very bright future, one that I need not be present for to occur."

With that they were dismissed from the headmaster's office, and they left the old wizard to ponder his own mortality a persistent train of thought of late.

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April 19th Outside of Atlanta, Georgia

Ron Weasley wiped his brow as he continued to dig the hole out in the middle of the very large and humid swamp. He had graduated to the camp's labor squad, which was considered the final step in the rehabilitation program.

News from the Isles was growing increasingly dark, news of Voldemort's spree through Diagon Alley had reached far, and magical governments of the world had all agreed that if the dark lord succeeded he would not spread his terror beyond the borders of Britain.

Ron thought back to his life in Britain, the few moments of carefree joy he had with Harry before everything started to go bad. He felt no real guilt for using Hermione as a friend; after all she was only a mudblood. But, he did realize trying to force her into sex was a wrong thing to do and he wouldn't try anything similar in the future.

As he continued to dig the drainage ditch he sighed, there was no use crying over spilled milk now, he had ended that part of his life, and maybe it was time to start over here in the states.

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Ok Folks this is where I've been stuck these past three years and so I admit defeat, however I shall leave you with my general outline of how this one was to end.

Dumbledore does die when Grindelwald's brood ambush him, but he takes all of them with him.

Harry and Hermione have an epic battle with Voldemort and Bella as the other light side members duke it out with the followers.

Harry and Hermione vanquish the evil doers and while some of their friends have been injured none die, although all of them are scarred from the experience.

Fate gives Harry a final boost as the Potter family recovers from near extinction as Harry lives to help send his great-great-great-great grandson named after the family patriarch to Hogwarts at the ripe old age of 200 with his wife Hermione before they go home and pass on to the next great adventure.

I apologize to all of you that I didn't manage to put these generalized thoughts to type, but I did want to give you this much so your imaginations could fill in all of the gaps, and to provide some closure to my first real literary project of this scale. Thanks for reading, and happy holidays.