Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews and favourites!

Here is the final chapter! I know some of you were not best pleased with the shift to Severus' POV at the end of part one, but I needed to do that again for this ending of part two. There is a very plot specific reason for shifting back to Severus. Even if this normally irks you, I hope you stick around for this stunning conclusion!

Chapter Nine - Finale

Watching the truth dawn on my mate's face is a horror akin only to killing my mentor. The knowledge that he is one of those vile artifacts had become obvious to me days ago when I traveled back to this house to claim him, and it makes our situation that much more hopeless. I fled, attempting to distance myself. Fate already spat on us once, drawing us apart for twenty years. Then it stabbed us in the back as we were drawing close together again. Albus told me of Harry's need to die for the damn cause, that there would be no chance for him to survive the Dark Lord. I had thought we might still have some time alone between his return from the past and his encounter with death, but Albus' murder and Harry's quest put a stop to that. Now Fate twists the knife in deeper as the exact nature of his Horcrux complex comes into focus.

"So I have to be destroyed," he says a little too calmly.

"Yes, and it is vital that the Dark Lord eradicate you himself."

I stare into my mate's green eyes, watching the hurt and the pain and the revulsion wash through him, and I do nothing, for there is no comfort I could bring to either of us. It is too late for sentimental nonsense, and as Ronald Weasley has said, there are still a few keys moves left to play in our deadly and dangerous game.

Emotions flit across his features and finally land on the one I am dreading, but expecting.

"How can you just stand there and act like this means nothing to you? Are you expecting me to walk away just like that?" He blazes like the sun, hot, emotional, all-consuming, and immense, as befits his heritage. His hands are clenched into fists and his magic begins to crackle in the air surrounding us. It is no surprise that he seems most upset over the effect this news has on our relationship. He has always dwelt a bit too much on emotions.

This bit of immaturity always draws out my dark loathing for the subject. There is a reason I've always been mean and nasty around teenage students. I would never have become a teacher but for Albus asking it of me in penance to gain forgiveness.

As such, sarcasm has always been my means of defence. "And what would you have me say, Potter? Plead with you not to do it? That we should run away together and be happy on a deserted isle, while the rest of the known universe falls under the Dark Lord's regime? Shall I attempt to cry buckets of tears over the loss of our mating? Those are all childish fantasies and we cannot afford to indulge them."

His anger erupts. "You fucking bastard! My life's been nothing but pain and sadness, but I thought there was some hope of a future. Now I learn that never was the case, that you've known all along, that you couldn't be arsed to give me one moment of compassion that would make this any easier -"

"Compassion only makes this worse, you sentimental fool! It leads to attachment and co-dependency, and crushes the soul when it is gone, as it is wont to do. It is fleeting and leaves only a raw open wound. Best to be rid of it now, Mr. Potter. There is planning yet to be done."

I know my words are cold and heartless and break something inside of my mate. A shudder of betrayal goes through him, and my own soul screams in utter misery. I have hurt him and I will pay for that in my mind as time moves on, but it is better that small external hurt than the internal one I will bear for the rest of my life if I give into temptation now and hold him, kiss him, make love to him, and then release him into Death's hands. That cruelty I've lived with already, and it is too horrible to experience again. No, I must block my heart against it.

Silence reigns in the room as Harry accepts the hardships of his life. His magic dies down as I watch him fold into himself. He sits, cradling his stomach and stares into the fire. I wonder if he wants to be consumed again as he did when I found him here last time, my reckless mate.

It is the courage of the other Gryffindor male present that dissolves the awkward moment. "So the only way to stop You-Know-Who is to get him to destroy his own soul piece in Harry and then the rest of us to take him out, right?"

I nod my head once.

"Then we need to call him out, lead him and his Death Eaters into a trap."

Miss Granger pauses in her sniveling for a shocked moment to stare openly at Mister Weasley. "Ron, are you … you want to use Harry as bait?" Even Harry picks up on this and turns to listen to his best friends debate over battle tactics.

Weasley's eyes are firm and determined, yet still retain humanity. I can see that he cares for my mate, but he also understands the situation at hand. "Harry has to be … k-killed. We know this; we might as well use it to our advantage. The second You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters think he's dead they will be at their most vulnerable to a surprise attack, and that's the only way we'll get a good shot at old snakeface."

"But you can't casually toss Harry's life out like this!"

"It's a good strategy," Draco speaks up. "Sometimes a general has to sacrifice a pawn or bishop or knight for a chance at checkmate, and by all accounts Potter is a walking dead man anyway."

Granger turns and pounds on his chest. "How can you be so cold about this? Do still hate him that much? Is that what you wish for him?" Tears are streaming down her face in a most pathetic display, which I hope Draco will put a stop to.

On the contrary, he shakes his head no, wraps his arms around her, pulling her close, and lets her cry. The scene nauseates me, not just because of the openness of the emotions but also because I cannot permit myself to partake in the much-longed-for embrace.

"So what is our best battle strategy?" Weasley asks.

Over the course of the next few hours, we brainstorm, hash out and detail several different plans. Granger halts her tears and she and Draco join in the discussion with many useful suggestions. Harry continues to listen, but he remains aloof from the group and from me, which is just as well. The growing distance is what he needs to complete his destiny, but it opens up a festering wound inside of me, a hurt that poisons my veins and turns all, even a victory against my hated master, into ashes. Life is not fair nor should we expect it to be, yet the sheer amount of what we both have been denied is reprehensible.

The plan is fairly simple. Harry will call out the Dark Lord and his followers to the field out beyond the Forbidden Forest, away from Hogsmeade and the castle. Order members and Aurors will already be waiting just inside the forest. I myself will take my usual place among the Death Eater ranks, as he will surely call me to his side, or barring that I will notice something going on from Hogwarts and come to investigate. Either way, I will be there to watch my mate fall, to see all of my happiness end before me, and then to deliver the final blow. As soon as the spell leaves my wand, the Aurors will set up an anti-Apparition zone and the fight will begin, even though the fate of the world will already be won.

Some contingency plans are also discussed and tentatively put in place. The hour grows late and the three say their good nights, leaving Harry and me to contemplate our own goodbyes. It is a long and painful silence. I want to go to him, but I cannot. Must not if I am to keep my heart intact over the next century.

And, of course, he refutes this. "You can't leave me like this."

I flick my eyes from the fire to him. "That is exactly what I intend. Should you and I give in to our base urges, it would ruin us. We must maintain objectivity and fortitude to march ahead."

He shakes his head. "I can't do this without you. Everything hurts. And I doubt I can put one step in front of the other knowing that …" his voice hitches on the agony and anger down deep inside himself, "... that you don't love me!"

I close my eyes against this onslaught, which weakens my resolve not to take him and crush him to me. I would never let go and all the world would be doomed because of it. "I must go."

But leave it to my mate not to let things settle there. "No," he growls and I hear his wings unfold. "I won't let it end like this, Snape."

"Foolish boy," I snarl back at him.

"If I'm to walk to my death tomorrow, I'll need the memory of us being together to take with me."

My eyes fly open and look at him mere inches away. "And you would condemn me to that memory for the rest of my days."

"Then let's make it a good memory," he says as he leans in, puts his arms around me, and kisses me.

It is hopeless and desperate and everything I want. My resistance shatters instantly, replaced by crushing need. My own wings come out and engulf him, my hands pulling him closer and kneading through his black hair as we attempt to devour each other. My soul soars high with his as I take him to bed and ravish him fully, skin touching skin, hearts all a-flutter, bodies merging as one. But the joy is bittersweet, for we both know that the dawn only brings death.

I wake in the early morning to find him still asleep beside me, so young and perfect in form yet old and troubled in spirit, as even in repose his face is lined with tension. The sight of him breaks my heart and I cannot bring myself to stay with him these last few hours. He will have to take strength from our joining, not my presence at his side, as he meets with fellow resistance fighters and begins the final process to eliminate my evil master.

For my part, I Apparate back to Hogwarts and start the day as routine as ever. I am to meet with the Heads of House to go over new discipline rules and techniques and will have to act surprised and put out that Minerva, Filius, and Pomona do not attend the meeting, as they will be at Grimmauld Place discussing the best methods of attack.

I order fried eggs, toast, and tea at breakfast, only to have them go cold since my digestive tract no longer wishes to consume them. I stand and stare out the window of my office, reciting potions recipes to keep my mind occupied.

Lunch comes and goes and I eat none of that, either. I manage a bit of paperwork for the Governors, not even sure what the point is anymore, but it is a distraction. I wonder what my life will become. I snort. No more than this, I suspect, the drudgery of a lonely, boring, taciturn administrator. Unless, of course, I choose to follow my mate into death. For once, that option holds some appeal for me, which is one indication of how low my spirit has sunk.

Minutes before the afternoon meeting, I feel the burn on my arm signaling the Dark Lord's summoning. I am relieved not to have to play the part of annoyed headmaster in front of the Carrows, but there is no succor in that. The part I play as spy is much more rife with hazards, and now there is the added prospect of concealing my emotions while watching my mate die. I must steel myself against it, and the prospect ties me in knots.

I leave the school and Disapparate, letting the magic pull me to evil's side. I think back to last night and how gruesome it looked in contrast to my mate's beautiful body, how I had tried to hide it and yet how Harry had brought it forward and accepted it. It makes me yearn for that acceptance once again. But that is dangerous to contemplate, not to mention a fool's hope, and so I bury those thoughts deep within my Occlumency shields.

The Dark Lord is filled with glee. "I have a message from Harry Potter that he wishes to meet with me, to have our prophesied duel and settle the score once and for all. I will go out to meet the boy and crush him soundly, showing all the world my rightful place in Wizarding society.

"I want you all there as witnesses to this glorious day. But do not interfere until Potter is vanquished. If any of his followers are also there, leave them be until afterward. Then you may do with them as you wish.

"The Light has fallen. The Ministry has fallen. And today my nemesis falls, too."

A raucous cheer rises from the assembled herd, hundreds of Death Eaters who were called for this momentous occasion. Enthusiasm is high and I feign my own delight at the news. Last minute preparations are handled, and everyone sorts themselves into ranks. The Dark Lord leaves first, knowing the destination, and then everyone Apparates to his new location.

We are indeed in the field outside the Forbidden Forest. I watch my fellow confederates and all their attentions are focused on the Dark Lord. None even bother to check the surrounding areas for traps or ambushes - idiots, the lot of them. Without letting on, I search the forest cover for our allies, but find no evidence of them. This could be very good or very bad. I am hoping for the former, but in all honesty, it hardly matters. My mate will die. Voldemort will die. It is highly probable that I will die as well, either directly from one of the Death Eaters or from a stray curse in the ensuing battle, and perhaps that is for the best, as I will not want to go on existing after this.

Speaking of which, Harry walks out from behind a group of trees into the field. He is wearing a stained T-shirt and jeans, worn out trainers and socks, and looking every bit the Muggle orphan that he is, not the Saviour the papers always make him out to be. His hair is a mess and his face holds a determination that belies his weariness, but I can see the signs, the tightness around his mouth, his gait, the haunted look in his eyes. This is hard for him - as it would be for any man - to walk passively to his death, especially one who has been so active in keeping people alive in the eternal struggle between good and evil.

The Dark Lord waits until Harry comes to a stop about twenty paces away. "So, Potter, you have come to face me at last."

"Yes," he says, voice steady and even, not showing a hint of fear. For that I am proud of him. "I am an adult now, and I thought it was about time we finished this, nice and easy, just the two of us. What do you say, Tom?"

The Dark Lord bristles at being addressed so informally, but instead he taunts Potter with his winning move. "Either way this duel between us goes, the war is not over. When I defeat you, all my hordes will conquer England and Scotland."

"And if I defeat you?" he asks with confidence.

My master chuckles. "Then my hordes will crush you and bring me back and we will still take over this land."

"Ah, but to bring you back, they will need a soul piece, and you have none left."

This bombshell is dropped squarely on Voldemort's head and he suddenly knows what Potter has been doing with his spare time. "NO! You cannot have found them all!"

Harry looks very smug now. "Oh, but I did: the locket, the diary, the snake, the cup, the crown and the ring. We've destroyed them all, and now it's your turn to be destroyed."

"Wretched child! Avada Kedavra!" Without pause, he sends the green spell light toward my mate. I hold my breath and so does everyone else, though I hardly notice. All my attention is now on Harry.

He does not move, does not react, and his eyes never leave my master's. They appear locked in time and space. The Killing Curse hits him and becomes absorbed into his body, and for a moment I see it enhance his green irises before it drains the life from them. A sudden shriek rises up in the air as his scar bursts with red and black ooze. His knees give out and his body starts to fall, but the shrieking continues in a crescendo. Everyone jumps and points their wands in Potter's direction, but it is obvious that he is not moving.

A black whiff of smoke rises in the air, and I take my cue from that. Altering the angle of my wand, I utter the curse that will end it all. "Sectumsempra!" It hits my master square in the back, and he rages in pain and betrayal as the curse strikes him over and over again on his body, and no one knows the counterspell. It brings me some small satisfaction in watching him writhe, as he deserves every minute of agony.

The place explodes with chaos as spell light flies out of the trees around us and the force of the anti-Apparition shield is felt going up. My fellow Death Eaters start to scream and shout obscenities at their attackers, and sure enough a battle ensues. I have no idea who all is involved or what they are doing as my world is reduced to two solitary figures.

Voldemort slithers on the ground like a snake, blood pouring out of him and muscles spasming as flesh is torn. I have no sympathy nor feelings of pity for him; he brought this on himself.

In comparison, Harry lies motionless and empty on the ground, like an old toy discarded and forgotten, the life snuffed out of him completely. I fall to my knees before him, the only being I will ever willingly perform that action to again, and stare. I stretch out my hand and touch his cheek, still warm from his body's latent heat, but without the movement of blood or breath. His eyes do not blink, and his magic is gone.

Searing pain shoots through me and I unleash a cry of bitterness, the finality of the moment crushing my soul. This is it, the moment I've been dreading since Albus first mentioned it last year, but nothing could prepare me for the complete loss of hope. It is worse than anything I have ever imagined, a hundred times worse than when he disappeared so long ago. Back then I must have believed there was still a chance for us, and then I did believe it when I encountered him again as his child self at Hogwarts. But now … now that it's happened, all dreams have been smashed.

I scream over and over, the agony not abating as I release all my frustration and bitterness out at the world. I am so busy hurting that I never notice the tears welling up in my eyes. All I feel is fire as I double over my mate. The tears fall down and land on his face, in his lifeless eyes, his still mouth, his ebony hair, but it means nothing as I am unconscious of the world around us.

So unconscious that the gasping breath near me does not register. So unconscious that I never hear a hoarse whisper, "Severus?" So unconscious that I do not sense the movement beneath me, until soft lips steal against my own.

I shudder and reel back, expecting it to be someone else taking advantage of my vulnerable state, only to find green eyes searching hopefully into my countenance.

"You're alive," I say, gasping for breath. "How?"

"I don't really know. I felt the Killing Curse enter me and separate my soul and Voldemort's soul piece from my body. The world went dark. Then I was floating, like in space, cool liquid running all around me … and then the world just came back to me. What happened?" he asks, looking around. He sees the Dark Lord's broken form near him and shies away from it. I look around, too, and witness pockets of on-going fighting.

"It's going according to plan," I say, still gobsmacked that he is alive and here before me.

He grins and the sight is more precious than anything I could imagine. "Looks like we're winning."

"Cheeky brat."

He looks back at me and his grin turns contemplative. "You are crying."

"No, I'm not. Veelas do not cry."

"Then what's this wetness?" he asks as he lifts one hand to brush aside a tear.

"Veela tears," I hear Draco's voice say from off to our left. I turn and look at him holding on tightly to Granger's hand. "But I thought that was impossible."

"As far as I'm aware, this should not be." It confuses me that I am indeed leaking fluid from my eyes.

Harry catches my sight and says, "Perhaps Fate decided to reward us for once." His mouth gently curves into a warm and loving smile. "Will you now accept me into your life?"

"Indubitably, there is nothing I want more."

In joy and triumph I crush him to me, never to be parted again. He holds on tight, never to let go either, and together we face a new life, a new future, with our arms and wings and souls wrapped around each other.

The End.

A/N: Yay! So that's the whole thing! Thanks for following it and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. I would love to read any reviews you wish to send my way, and I will respond back to all of them.

Thanks again to my betas, ashiiblack and badgerlady for all their little corrections. Also, the cover icon for this story was made specifically for this story by Sealcat. She loves drawing Veela and had a great time illustrating the scene in the past when Harry and Severus first join. Thanks so much, dear!

Also, I will have another Snarry, a short funny one-shot, up in July.

And a rec! I am thoroughly enjoying another Snarry time travel called "Gray Skye Mourning" and I highly encourage you all to go check it out! It's a lovely, romantic and angsty fic with lots of wonderful descriptions. So go read!