Title: "You Set My Soul Alight"
Summary: It is the end. Please R&R!
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.
A/N: Well, guys, this is the finale. Thank you so much for reading it, it's currently the most popular story of mine. I've come to be proud of it – because of you! Remember I said I didn't like it? Now I do! ;) Thank you all so much! I'm planning to write another fic soon. Actually if you like my style, keep an eye on my new LJ archive http// istne pieklo. livejournal. com Enjoy!
The quote belongs to Queen.
THE SHOW MUST GO ON
Night fell swiftly, extinguishing even starlight. Harry's eyes, unaccustomed to such dense, ink darkness, could scarcely see anything beyond the reach of pale flames of campfire. Its soft rattling filled his soul with sadness. It might have been the last time they heard this sound. The last time they shared a meal together. The last time he heard an insult from Voldemort for having called him 'Tom'. The last time he fell asleep by his side and woke up, dreading he would be gone.
Too many of those precious and painful 'last times'.
The portal would not give in lightly. They had to work on it like they did to break the force-field in the vacuum. It seemed to have been so long ago. Had it happened at all?
By the end of the day Harry's neck ached immensely. They still had each other's wands and something gave Harry the impression they would till the very end. Voldemort's wand to kill Him-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; Harry's want to get rid of The Boy Who Lived. Such a funny coincidence.
"Get up!" Voldemort said when he noticed the boy's limp body lying by the fire. Harry inhaled the melting heat of coals and said:
"Why? Can't it wait till morning?"
"No, it can't! Now get up!" Voldemort's tough hand grabbed Harry by the collar and forced him on his feet. Harry staggered but managed to stay up. He flashed Voldemort a dirty look and kept working silently.
Finally the portal was willing to let them through. Potter's heart sank. Every small detail of this world seemed so good, so true, so perfect. Harry bit his lip in anguish. He just couldn't go now. Not where the war raged and his friend fell cut down by magical fire. Not where eternal gloom ruled, where he would never know love again.
Harry's perception hadn't contacted the illusive image of Tom Riddle in Voldemort's dreams. He wondered briefly why. Because his Tom was here, by his side. He wouldn't let him go now…
"You wanted to know what it was between me and your parents", Voldemort said.
Harry turned his head instantly. His scar was bare once again, shimmering under the Dark Lord's blank gaze.
"It's alright if you don't want to tell me", he whispered.
"I offered James to work for me. He refused. It's as simple as that".
Harry pondered what he'd just heard. He had a guess that James had been marked for death for being a pureblood who gave the Dark Lord a finger – but to hear it from You-Know-Who himself was… It was just too much!
"And my mother?" he asked timidly. Voldemort looked away. "You said she didn't have to die".
She was a brave one, Lily Potter. I must admit the bitch earned my respect by what she'd done".
Spoken fast, in a low, emotionless voice, it startled Harry – the hurt, the regret, the insult that made the boy's blood boil. He wanted to fire back but muffled laughter came through his rounded lips.
In the meantime, Voldemort added: "She had the will to live but she scarificed herself for you. So unlike my own mother. She wouldn't even stay alive for me".
"She was broken. I'm not trying to justify her. It's just… Every opinion counts. That's what Dumbledore taught me well enough".
"Dumbledore!" Voldemort snorted. He sprang up and paced angrily in front of Harry. "Albus fucking Dumbledore! You've gotta be kidding me!"
Potter gulped nervously. The Dark Lord scowled at him:
"Don't try to redeem me, Harry! I've had enough of Saint Dumbledore's crap while still at school!"
Harry shut his eyes. The fire carried on rattling softly, soothing his wound up nerves.
"What will happen to us? You know, when we get back and–".
"That is if we get back!" Voldemort corrected hastily as if it should have been said regardless. "I don't know. This can't go on".
"Oh… yes. You're right. The show must go on".
Night swept past them swiftly. Harry couldn't get any sleep. He just sat by the fading fire, inhaling the warmth before it would pass, carried away by cool breeze. He had never felt lonelier or more confused.
"Tom", he whispered in a husky voice. "Tom, I don't want to lose you".
He knelt before the sleeping Voldemort and shook him fiercely.
"Tom, you hear me!? I don't want to go back! I don't want to start it all over!"
-You silly boy!- Voldemort hissed in Parseltongue. –Sh-sh-shut up! Shut up!-
"No! I won't! I won't go back! It's your goddamn fault! You started it, you ruined my life! It wasn't the Prophecy that had chosen me, it wasn't Dumbledore! It was you! You fucking started it!"
Tears splashed from his eyes. Uncontrollable sobbing grew into loud wailing. Harry loathed himself for it (he was acting very much like Moaning Myrtle!) but he couldn't stop for all the treasures in the world. His voice cheated on him.
Voldemort threw his arms around Harry's quivering body and whispered comforting words in his ear. The youth could not distinguish the meaning but he was grateful, no matter what.
The fever of hysteria subsided. Harry wiped his face (with the sleeve of Voldemort's robe to the latter's discontent) and suppressed his tremor.
"I want to stay here. With you".
Voldemort frowned. "It's a dream, Harry. It will not last".
"Then make it last!"
The voice that uttered it was so childish, so touching, so sweet. Voldemort kept quiet. To say 'no' meant to deny he was all-powerful. To agree meant to accept Potter's naïve faith in that they had a future.
"It does not do to dwell on dreams", he drew out thoughtfully. Harry tensed in his arms, having recognized the Headmaster's words.
Funny how it turned out. Dumbledore was gone – yet he remained, a painful shadow somewhere on the peryphery of all those events. 'Albus Dumbledore', Voldemort smirked, 'always and forever!'
He rocked Potter to sleep. Dreams were beautiful but they were never meant to last.
Morning light blinked through the thin layer of clouds. Harry yawned and opened one eye to make sure he was still in the dreamworld. The plain was vibrant green, laid before him like a giant tablecloth. The boy rose to his feet. His heart grew cold. No way he could force Tom to understand!
"Time to go", Voldemort's voice sounded extremely calm.
"It's always hard to make a choice!" Harry uttered breathlessly before the shimmering window of pale golden light, their door to freedom. "I beg you, make the right one".
His hand rested on Voldemort's forearm. He eyed him passionately though intuition told him his love was doomed.
Harry froze. The second time he admetted his true feelings. Not for the phantom from his dreams (that damnable infatuation that tormented him ever since the Headmaster began 'teaching' him Voldemort's history) but for this solid shape of flesh and blood… his blood, Harry's. They were kin, they were soulmates now in this new life that Voldemort had created for both of them.
Harry wondered if Voldemort felt the same.
The Dark Lord was looking through him. Horizon glowed claret-color.
"Tom", Harry called.
"Let's go", Voldemort replied.
So they were past the point of no return.
Harry came to his senses all of a sudden. He was sprawled on the burnt ground, surrounded by corpses. Their foul stench cloyed his nostrils. His stomach rebelled against such violence. Potter bent over and threw up.
What the fuck happened? He compressed his temples and growled in pain.
Oh, right! Voldemort's curse hit him but couldn't kill him – again.
Wind howled over the field, bringing a high-pitched cry with it, "Harry!!!"
A woman was screaming. The youth got up, trembling.
"Hermione! Over here!"
Hermione's face was smeared with blood. She gripped his shoulder, half-laughing, half-gasping shakily.
"We thought we died!"
"Where's Ginny? Is she–?"
"She's with Ron. The twins–". Hermione paused. "They're badly hurt. They probably won't make it".
Harry balled his fists with dumb solution. "Nobody's gonna die anymore".
"It's him", Hermione whispered as she glimpsed the Dark Lord's intimidating shape make its way through the shadows. Black robes billowed in the wind.
Hermione moved forward. Weird but Harry found no trace of hate in his heart.
"No", he held her back. "He's mine".
They raised their wands simultaneously. Harry frowned. He felt dizzy and exhausted as if…
The wand felt strange in his grasp. He opened his fist and saw an elegant, elaborate handle. That was not his wand!
The memories came back to him.
"Tom", he whispered, and Voldemort recognized him, too.
"Harry! What are you waiting for?" Hermione cried.
He pushed her away (for her own sake! She should have stayed alive for Ron, for Ginny, for everyone… she was good, so unlike him!) and jumped up. Voldemort sprang forward. Their wands clashed like a pair of sabers before they could fire a curse. Bright flashes colored the sky above Hermione. Breathless, she observed the battle.
Voldemort's breath scorched Potter's cheek.
"Tom", Harry whispered. Cought by the wind, the words ceased to be.
"Don't call me that", Voldemort replied, brushing his lips over the boy's lips.
"Harry!" Hermione's voice broke through. "What are you doing!?"
Once again the enemies confronted each other. Hexes whistled in the wind.
"It has to be done!" Hermione yelled at the top of her lungs.
Why did he linger? Why did he hesitate?
She wanted to rise but she twisted her ankle when Harry knocked her off her feet. The wand rolled out of her hand and Hermione could not reach it.
Harry had a distinct though: 'This ends now'.
They threw their wands up and…
Glaciers melting in the dead of night
And the superstars sucked into the supermassive.
(You set my soul alight)
Muse. 'Supermassive Black Hole'
Okay, this is it! The story ends here and now. I suspect most of you will probably want to kill me for such an ending, but I won't change my mind! ;) Don't forget to tell me what you think!