Fic - "Young Immortals " HP/SS (R) (Part 12/13)
Title: Young Immortals (Chapter 12 of 13)
Author/artist: winnett
Pairing: Harry/Snape
Rating: PG13 - NC17
Genre: Adventure/Romance
Summary: Ten years have passed and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny have done nothing but perfect their skills in preparation for their final battle with Voldemort. None of them expected they would run into Snape, let alone did they foresee the price he would demand for his teachings. Well, nobody except maybe Ginny.
Warnings: Blood. Male/Male sexual situations. Language. Rimming. Violence.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based in the world created by J.K.Rowling. They aren't mine and I make no money from them. No toes were intentionally stepped on.
Author's notes: Yet another vampire!bonding!fic that every vampire fanatic must write. What can I say, I love vampire fics. Written prior to Deathly Hallows during NaNoWriMo 2006. Spoilers for all books prior but no intended references to the final book. Thanks so much to asrai99 and yivel! You are both amazing with the super beta skills you have. All mistakes are mine and by all means, let me know if you find any.

Word count: Approximately 5,800 of a total of 60,000

Young Immortals - All Chapters

A/N: Sorry this is so late, but my beta had to slap me and gave me a list of 'what abouts' that I needed to fix in the final confrontation. So here you go, the last real chapter of the story. I feel odd posting the ending of this story. I wrote it for NaNo and then it sat and I edited and it sat and so forth and so on and here we are now. It's been fun and I hope you enjoy.

BIT 12

It was taking too long. Severus grumbled at this sloth-like turn of events. The buzz of anticipation kept the group scurrying about like an ant hill on fire, excited about Harry going to finish the good fight but continuing to hold them in purgatory at the manor until every contingency was accounted for.



Three days had already passed. Serephia had been given a room and was allowed some freedom of movement, though her wings were kept tightly bound and her hands tied at her front. Initially, Severus was the only one she would accept food from, until the woman started cutting herself with her fingernails and teeth to entice him with her rich blood.

It shocked him to realize he wasn't that tempted. Regardless, they soon employed Ginny and Hermione to tend to their captive with Seamus barging in at regular intervals, regaling the veela about his outstanding Auror skills and bragging that a dragon's cock was a mere appendage compared to his gigantic pleasure tool. Hermione reproached him every time, though the Irish lad still licked his lips at the sight of the woman.

"Seriously, Seamus. Put it back in your pants," she scolded.

It wasn't unusual for Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione to be found in the darkest hours of the night countering every one of Kingsley's scenarios until it seemed they finally convinced the experienced Auror that they could do this. Severus only observed, knowing Harry was a force in and of himself and could handle Kingsley as well as Voldemort, and just bided his time until Kingsley realized it, too.

But still… three days.

Even he, with all of his years, grew antsy.

Early on the morning of the fourth day, as Severus lethargically snuggled into the warm bed he and Harry had been sharing, the group had finally met consensus. Severus listened to the arguments, the sound rising up through the tiny cracks between brick and wood to reach his ears with the help of Josephine, and to Severus it sounded like the consensus was stuffed down Kingsley's throat by Ron of all people.

"Shut up!" he'd heard Ron yell, cutting off the muddled voices that rose and fell in a tide of anxiety pulled more strongly than by any moon. "Kingsley. Mate. I know you mean well, but you're killing us here. You're killing Harry. He's in his death throws now." Severus felt for his bonded mate and could feel nothing but boredom. "He's ready. He's spent the last ten fucking years training for this one stupid moment. He is ready. Trust in him. He isn't the snot-nosed brat who bumbled into trouble with only luck and two amazing best friends to save his hide anymore."

"Wow, thanks. I'm not certain how I'll deal with such praise," said Harry, and Severus snorted into the pillow.

"He is a fully trained wizard with more skills in more areas of magic than I bet anyone in this era, well except for us." There was a pause. "Now, let him go. Let him meet that fucking destiny of his so he can be done with it and spend the rest of his life actually living. Okay?"

Severus chuckled at the utter silence left in the wake of Ron's rant.

Then he swore he could hear Ginny giggling; but then that was expected.

"Fine," Kingsley said, and Severus pulled the duvet tight around himself, breathing in deep the smell of Harry, musky and touched by the earth, and felt content, even knowing he would be facing down death that night.

~~~

In bitter wind, Severus, Harry and Serephia stood before a rocky, snow-capped mountain range that looked recently birthed from the bowels of the earth. The air chilled Harry to the bone, but it wasn't just due to the sub-zero temperatures, but also to the three Dementors hungry for their souls, hovering near the small cave entrance they'd been trudging towards for hours. At first it was just a small marring of black on the blue-silver surface of the ice crevasse, but it grew with each hard-earned step, their long flowing fabrics flapping in the harsh gale as the storm clouds raced overhead.

The sun had just slipped past the horizon and the temperature plunged with its slow demise. Wrapped in parkas, robes and heating spells, tagged with tracking charms from their allies, the three had trekked over three miles at a snail's pace crossing solid snow and ice from the edge of the Anti-Apparition ward to this promise of cover from the endless whipping of air. Harry slipped on the ice, the footing treacherous for even his agile steps. Now they faced the very embodiment of fear, only so they could enter this forbidding cave where they would challenge the most evil wizard of the century.

Harry sniffed at his runny nose; he couldn’t wait for it all to be over.

"They will not attack if I am with you," Serephia screamed into the deafening storm, her words torn away, barely reaching the men who huddled closely by her. She continued to walk towards the sentries, only to be gripped and held back by Severus.

She looked down at him over her shoulder, locks of her short hair beating against her strong nose and high cheeks, her brilliant eyes on fire with inner mirth that irritated Harry. "Yes, Severus?" she asked kindly.

"Do not go running off before us. You will stay by our sides," Severus ordered.

"You've nothing to worry about, Severus. I won't leave your side until we are received by our Lord and then it will be at his side that I will stand." She glanced over at Harry. “And then, Severus, you can stand with us.”

He despised that woman. Shivers twitched through his every muscle and he longed for warmth and goodness and happy thoughts as they passed between those darkest of guards and into the black void of the cave. Both Severus and Harry cast light from their wands, which illuminated little detail in the natural cavern other than the rough outline of ice crystals and stone. With the veela in a short lead, they continued down the winding tunnel, hollow tubes spiraling off the main passage like the branches of an ancient oak; into the heart of the mountain they descended, leaving behind the burgeoning storm. Behind him, emerging from the high piercing wind, was a low rumble, building and growing until a crack split the air and even the wail of the wind was overcome. He paused and looked back. He knew Ron, Hermione and Ginny would be close, following at a distance in case they were needed, but somehow he felt cut off, more so than ever before as the cave swallowed them up.

The air was cold and scentless as he sucked it into his lungs. His ears burned with the cold and he lifted his gloved hands up to his mouth to breathe warmth back into them. Even with the charms he felt frozen from the inside out. This hunk of rock and ice not only sapped out the heat from their bodies, but the strength from their spells. Being without his magic wasn't anything he had prepared for, but he wasn't useless without it. He could throw the knives he had spelled to his body or use the gun he had tucked in his trousers. He could crush a man's throat with the proper pressure applied with his fingertips. No, Harry was not a helpless man.

"How much further, woman?" Severus demanded, tugging his robe off a jagged boulder where it had gotten caught, and Harry could feel the worry from his joined mate. He knew that Severus had also realized this place was so barren nothing but death prospered.

"Oh, we have to go farther into the mountain where our Dark Lord regains his strength. Where he is safe. Where his power is unequaled." Her words offered nothing but hopelessness. She looked over her shoulder at the two men and again Harry saw madness in her eyes and his hatred of her boiled.

As they continued down the snaking passage within rock and stone, Harry felt himself grow weaker and he labored for breath as if he were struggling to stay afloat in the North Sea. Neither Severus nor Serephia seemed effected, walking strong and upright. To Harry it felt as if the stones themselves were siphoning off his magic, feeding off his power like ravenous carrion birds, picking his eyes from their sockets, the marrow from his bones.

Farther into the mountain, into the blackness of hell, they continued, endlessly, and each passing step found Harry hunching over, his walk turning to a shuffle.

When he stumbled, falling heavily to his knee, he was certain the next fall would be his last, but he forced himself to his feet once more, certain his youth had been traded in for brittle bones and an old man's legs. Severus reached out, concerned, but Harry shook his head; he didn't need Severus distracted by his weakness. His world focused on one step forward, then another, and nothing else had form or substance. Finally, they emerged into a vast cavern dominated by massive formations, stalagmites and stalactites stretching their tips to meet in the middle like separated lovers. A huge stone dais overwhelmed the center of the cavern, surrounded by heatless balls of white light hovering inches from the ceiling, breeding deep shadows in odd angles and shapes. Dread coated every particle in the air, permeating everything like a virus, and Harry actually worried that this might be the end of him and Severus and the future of the free world. But he felt a feather-light touch brush his mind, and with it came comfort and faith and he drew strength from that touch and lifted himself straight once more to face the withered thing before him.

From the dais the words came.

"Severus," a brittle voice said, sending shivers up and down Harry's spine, the kind of shivers you get when you come upon a carcass overridden with maggots teaming in their search for rot and offal. "Have you come to beg me to welcome you back? I see that you have brought me a gift." With a strained shuffle, the dried husk of a man rose into view and laughed, and his laughter wheezed like crushed, dead leaves.

"My Lord!" exclaimed the veela, who ran up to the dais and fell to her knees, prostrating herself among the stones and gravel of the floor in obeisance. "I have brought them, as you asked."

"Yes. Serephia, you have done well and you shall be rewarded." A mummified hand reached out, skeletal, reminding Harry of the hand of the Dementor he had spied so many years ago, and touched the top of the veela's head. Harry and Severus watched as the bindings on her wings broke free and she unfurled them freely, flapping strongly to let lose gray feathers shimmering in the harsh light, casting her spell upon the room.

The Death Eaters, before hidden in the many corners and fissures of the cave, stepped forward in reverence and adoration for the beautiful woman, her charcoal wings a singular spectacle of her noble breeding, her face so smooth and placid in perfection, her eyes bright and intense as they looked upon the one thing that could control her. Voldemort.

Harry stepped closer to Severus and the two stood side by side as the veela subjugated herself to the hollow man before her, surrounded by his loyal followers.

"Severus, now?" Harry asked, allowing the older man with a grudge the potential for some payback.

"Yes," was all he said in reply, and his claws lengthened.

Harry threw off his robe followed by his bulky coat and drew out his handgun, aimed and shot off six rounds into the man he was destined to kill, taking steps to his right as he shot. The cavern screamed as booms ricocheted off the high walls sending a rain of pebbles cascading down the walls and from the cavern ceiling. Then he ripped open his shirt to pull the knives from his chest, wincing as the sticking spell tore out chest hair in his haste and threw them unerringly at the head of the foul man, at his chest, and into his abdomen, creating a man sized voodoo doll.

A wail pieced the air after the initial shock had faded and the veela turned on Harry and Severus, claws out and birdlike features ripping away her beauty as her anger rose. The Death Eaters moved towards the two men with clubs and swords in hand, the same effect disallowing Harry and Severus to cast apparently affecting the Dark Lord's men as well. Harry and Severus positioned themselves in a stance to receive the attack when an amused voice shattered the tension.

"Do not worry yourself. Their silly weapons cannot harm me. Serephia, come to me. Sit by me."

What the fuck? Harry's jaw dropped along with his heart and hopes. How could that dilapidated body withstand anything, let alone iron and steel?

"Harry, can you sense it?" Severus whispered at him, not looking his way but keeping his eyes on the encroaching Death Eaters in full regalia and the Dark Lord at the center of it all.

With his senses weakened and entire system wonky, Harry had little hope that he would sense anything just now, but he tried. He tried to connect to the magic of the place, the underlying power of the mountain, of the cavern, of the people around him. However, something was blocking him and it was tied in with the draining effect he felt.

"Where is it? Where is it?" he wondered to himself as he searched for the source of the drain and saw that it wasn't just one thing, not any of the Death Eaters, not some hidden artifact, but the entire cavern. It was sucking out life and magic and strength, focusing all of the energy right at the center of the platform; right where Voldemort sat.

This entire cave was like a Muggle battery charger and he was extra juice to strengthen his enemy. Great. Just fucking great.

He would just have to cut that connection. Unfortunately, he had no clue how. Fervently, he hoped the others would discover this cavern and stand by his side.

"You brought me Harry Potter, my pet. Such a precious gift. He, along with my Severus." Voldemort chuckled again, the sound dry and haunted. The man looked more reptilian than ever before, his skin scaly, smooth and gray.

He had to buy some time, he needed to think. First thing first, he had to get closer. If bullets didn't work, maybe the firm grip of his fingers on that skeletal throat would do. So he took a step forward and asked: "How did you do it? How did I not kill you with my shots and blades?"

"Because," answered Severus, "such physical trauma will do nothing to a body already dead."

A sharp glance at Severus revealed his confusion to his mate, then he looked back at Voldemort.

"What are you then?" Harry demanded, annoyed with himself and this entire situation. He took in a deep breath, struggling against his exhaustion.

"Ahhh," Voldemort said, amused. "I am not so different from my dear Severus." The words slithered down Harry's spine.

"You're nothing like him. You're nothing but filth," Harry said, spit spraying from his numbed lips.

A cackle echoed through the great chamber and a few of the Death Eaters joined their Lord, more relaxed now that the tables were turned. "Always so hot-headed."

"Hot-headed? You're the idiot who, year after year, tried to kill a child; who was defeated by a little baby. You were driven by half a prophecy and couldn't do anything about it. And on the eve of your demise, you ran away. You. Ran. Away. And I've been turned into you,” he screamed, “wasting my life to chase you down for ten fucking years. Let's end this, you weak, little man. Let's end this now." He was halfway across the chamber now, had been closing in step by trembling step, when he launched himself towards the dais.

It was Serephia's high, cawing laugh that now echoed through the chamber and it pulled Harry up short. He was mere feet away, and the veela, more birdish now that even before, laughed. A cloud of feathers floated weightlessly through the air. He saw that Voldemort was stroking her wing like that of a pet Kneazle and she looked content enough to purr.

"Prophecies mean nothing, wizard. Not when fate is but putty in your hands." Her words now came hard without her soft lips to mold them into melody.

"What?" Harry demanded from the woman.

"If you can't fulfill a prophecy, change it," Voldemort said while he stroked Serephia. "I no longer need worry about you. I know I will win this battle, and the next, and my followers will grow and I will rule as I always knew I would. There is nothing you can do." Then he turned from Harry and set those red eyes directly on Severus. "So now, my once faithful servant. Will you join with me again? The stars have been rewritten, the lines in your palm re-laid and all the tea leaves in the world would say it was so." At that Harry swore he did hear Serephia purr and he panicked because what if it was true? Ginny hadn't been able see anything about this event. Something was blocking her oracular ability. What if it was this veela, this odd, charcoal-feathered woman so devoted to one of the most evil men on earth? What power on earth could fight against fate?

But Severus had joined with him, not her. She wasn’t in completely control.

And then it seemed that all hope was lost when Severus dropped to the ground on one knee, bowed his head and said, "Yes, my Lord. I will rejoin you."

"Severus! What're you doing?" Harry cried out. "Don't give up! We can still beat him."

"Ah, Severus, you have rejoined me. I hope you intend on proving your renewed loyalty?"

With superhuman speed Severus stood and turned on Harry, gripping his throat in one strong hand and wrapping his other arm around Harry's waist, pulling him close. Close enough to see into those calm eyes and gain his own senses back. Severus hadn't turned on him, he could feel it through their bond. There was no way he could turn on him… but wouldn't Voldemort know that?

Especially being what he claimed to be: something like Severus. A vampire? Was Voldemort also a vampire?

Severus' visage twisted into that of contempt, a look familiar from Harry's years at Hogwarts, and turned towards Voldemort, dragging Harry roughly with him. Through his shock and confusion, Harry could sense through the bond frantic emotions, thoughts and energies. Energies! The point of joining was to borrow from Severus… But how could he hurt Voldemort? Destroying the body wasn't any use… Then he realized it wasn't his body that needed to be destroyed, but his soul, the final shard.

Harry's thoughts rampaged through his mind. “Voldemort was like Severus, body dead… or undead," he pondered while he put up a struggle against Severus' rough treatment. "But he couldn't be a vampire or he should know more about our joining. Didn't he send Serephia to join with Severus? Ahh, but maybe that was to control him, not get his power for her. And why would he increase the power of his servant in case she ever turn on him? Why did he need Severus? What was it Severus knew?”

Thoughts raced through Harry's mind as Severus pushed him to the ground by the platform where Voldemort and Serephia now sat, cozy as two school sweethearts sitting at Kissing Point.

"Here he is, my Lord. Helpless and lacking power, having it torn from him to sustain your healing process," Severus said.

Healing process? Severus was trying to tell him something. All of the energy from every living thing is being sucked into the rock slab Voldemort was sitting on. That had to be it.

"I hope the dais has been working as expected?" Severus asked, his grip on Harry lessening as he held him to the ground. "I'm pleased that the regenerative theory I had been working on so long ago has actually been put to practical use."

"Yes, well, it is not working exactly as expected, Severus." Voldemort's petting stalled and his eyes flicked from Harry to Severus. "Certain modifications need to be made."

"Of course, my Lord. Inform me of these modifications and I will fix the problem at your earliest convenience," Severus said deferentially, bowing his head.

But that epiphany Harry so desperately needed, fueled by Severus' hints, still hadn't come. He wasn't sure what he had to do next. This wasn't anything he'd come across before in his ten years of perfecting himself. “Damn it! I'm smart, I can figure this out! Do I just destroy the dais? With what power? Dumbledore always said I had that power of love, what the fuck does that mean? Do I give Voldemort a big smooch and have him croak over in shock?”

"Certainly, Severus, but first I wish to know why you joined blood with this man, my enemy?"

Harry's blood dropped another ten degrees.

"My Lord," Severus fell to his knees beside Harry. "I did not know where you had gone to. I was taken by a vampire and lived alone and I could bear it no longer." The act impressed Harry like nothing he'd seen on Broadway.

"Ah yes. Monsieur Burne is a faithful servant."

"What?" Severus' head shot up, the previous look of fealty vanished from his face. "That vampire, the one who turned me, was at your command?"

That dry chuckle again. "I needed you to join with my Serephia," he ran his bony fingers down her feathered cheek. And then he turned on Severus, eyes flashing, "But then you did the unthinkable and now you are of little use to me." The enraged look on Voldemort's face would forever haunt Harry's nightmares.

"You caused me this curse?" screamed Severus and Harry marveled at the power he felt bursting forth from the man.

Time had run out. Harry pulled himself from Severus' grip, drew his wand for the needed focus and cast the Adsorption spell, aiming it not at Voldemort or Serephia, but at the dais. Nothing happened. The spell had fizzled and Harry's heart hammered against his ribs in panic. But then, a trickle, a tiny taste of magic began seeping into Harry. However, it was wrong, something was wrong. Then a rush of tainted, fetid magic swarmed Harry and blasted him away from the others, slamming him into a low-hanging stalactite layered with ice where he tumbled to the ground.

The Dark magic thrummed through his veins, fried his nerves, and overwhelmed every thought he tried to eke free from the tremendous throbbing promising to burst his brain open and splatter the frozen ice crystals with gray matter and blood.

And Voldemort laughed. And Severus screamed. And Harry struggled to control the invading Darkness within him as the Death Eaters stepped forward, weapons drawn. And all the while feathers slowly settled to the ground, like falling snow, delicate and eternal.

“Severus, I need you. Help me. Help me control this.”

Harry screamed at the pain as something struggled to burst forth from his chest, rip its way out of his body to take form. But then he felt a comforting coolness tingle through his body starting from his heart and spreading throughout his veins. It bathed him and restored him and with that energy he stood again, aglow with the combined powers of evil wizard and vampire. Of nemesis and love.

And of their power he drank.

"What?" Voldemort asked quietly in his shock. "How can you stand? How can this thing be? Get him!" Then the tired, dead body of Voldemort, full of holes and dripping coagulated sepia, commenced to shake, shudder like a palsy victim. Serephia stared over at her Lord in dismay, reaching out to him as he hunched over into himself as the stolen magic no longer sustained him.

And the first blow from an elder staff smacked Harry against the knee, and he ducked under a sword swipe for his head, as the Death Eaters tried to take him down.

"My Lord," she said in a whisper. "What is it? What can I do for you? Please, take from me. Abandon this contraption and take what you need from me! Please, my Lord." She scooped up the wilting form and launched herself off of the dais, scattering more feathers amongst that tableau of death and rebirth.

As the veela flew through the cavern, dodging rock structures like a world class seeker, the great dais cracked and Severus Snape fell to the floor in a boneless heap.

"Severus! No!"

Harry burned with the power roiling within him. Even as his lover fell, the man he was joined to moved no more, he couldn't tear his attention away from that feeling of consuming energy that now charged through his every cell.

He raised his arm, wand held firmly in his hand, as he faced down the Death Eaters surrounding him. They beat upon him with hardened staves and cudgels. They cut at him with knives and swords. Like filling his lungs with air, Harry collected the magic with in him and with an explosive release he pulsed the magic out through his pores, forcing it, pure and unfocused, out of his very being. The wave of magic, blue and red and swirling black, blasted into the Dark wizards and witches surrounding him, their identities no longer protected by a pure white mask as the curse tore at their clothing, their masks, their skin.

"No!" he screamed again, turning aside a drive like nothing he'd ever felt before, a drive to conquer, a drive to take, to punish these people for their evil, and then his eyes set upon Severus and something within him broke. In an instant, he was by his mate's side.

"Severus. My God, please be okay. Please. Severus." He felt through the bond a pained yearning, a sorrowful emptiness and knew that Severus had given Harry everything. The man before him held no more magic.

"Go," Severus said weakly. "Kill him. His body is only vulnerable to fire or dismemberment. There are no more horcruxes; remember that. I will wait," he coughed, his body being wracked with painful spasms, "for you here."

Harry hesitated; he couldn’t leave.

"Go!" Severus pushed at Harry weakly and Harry stood.

"I will beat him and I will return for you. Don't you die on me, Severus Snape. Don't you fucking die on me," he commanded and dug through his winterized trousers for the miniaturized broom strapped to his thigh. He enlarged it and mounted for the chase, let lose like a hound eager on a fox's tail, overtaken by a lust for the hunt.

He zoomed through the cavern, his torn shirt flapping against his sides at that speed, providing no warmth. Where the veela might have the same agility as a seeker, her winged flight was nowhere as fast as the prototype Firebolt 2010, and as she came into view, backlit by the cave mouth's dim light, he screamed at her.

"Bitch, get back here!" he called out, drawing his wand and casting Expelliarmus to knock her out of the sky.

The spell engulfed the entire chamber, powered by love and hate, and blasted the woman. She crashed into the stormy world outside.

Harry burst forth from the tunnel and was surrounded by that familiar screaming of his mother. "No, not Harry. Take me instead."

Harry had no good feelings for the Dementors to feast on when his thoughts only lay with the crumpled form of Severus at the foot of the cracked dais. They moved towards him, but he was too fast and as he reached the broken veela on the packed ice, trying in vain to protect Voldemort, he snatched that body from her arms, precipitating a scream of anguish from her declaring that she had lost what she loved most.

"Join the party, bitch," Harry thought.

Up into the black clouds he climbed, ice crystals blooming on his glasses as the temperature strove for absolute zero. The Dementors trailed after him and he could feel them lunging for his soul, nibbling away at his love, at his memories. He would not let them take anything. He would go to his grave with Severus in his mind.

Severus said either fire or dismemberment and Harry was certain that there was nothing wrong with a little overkill. The last portion of Voldemort's soul was right here, in the weak, desiccated body he held to his chest. It was the end of the line.

He panted as he flew up into the storm, hail and frozen rain piercing his skin and gathering on his eyelashes. He hovered, one hand around his nemesis and the other lifting his wand high, pointing it into the black clouds above. Screaming to the God of storms, he called lighting and he called thunder and he listened hard to what the thunder said.

As the bolt streaked for him, time slowed and Harry finally understood himself and that he had lived a good life. He had had friends and family and he had touched their lives and the lives of others, but most of all he had loved. He'd loved with all of his heart and he thanked the universe for that chance as the lightning struck.

~~~

He was warm again. It seemed that it'd been time without end since he'd felt warmth. His heart had been dead for so long, long before his blood was drained and the curse of eternal night was laid upon him.

This must be the Valhalla and the Valkryrie were here to take him home.

Did he deserve such a fate? Wasn't he more suited for brimstone and darkness? For a frozen wasteland forever encased in ice? He had tortured and murdered and worked in the Dark. He had betrayed, more than once.

But not Dumbledore. And not Harry. And those were the only two that mattered. Now he was numb and warm and little else mattered, for the struggle was over. He could do nothing more to bring himself any farther down this path of life, for he had met his journey's end.

A shifting next to him caused him to realize it wasn’t just warmth he felt but also fine sheets of Egyptian cotton and a down pillow under his head. Where had the hard rock surface gone, the sharp stone edge digging into his hip?

"I can't believe they both survived," said a low voice.

With great care he opened first one eye and then the next, and squinted against the luminescence surrounding him. A head of tangled black hair was lying next to his on the pillow, attached to the beaten and bandaged body of a man.

"He's awake!" came the excited whisper from his left. But he couldn't be bothered to look at where the voice came from, for beside him was Harry and neither of them were dead.

There was a noisy shuffling and finally soft, tentative steps of many feet approaching the oversized bed they slept in.

"Severus?" Hermione said tentatively. "How are you feeling?"

He tore his gaze away from Harry and looked up at the bushy haired woman anxiously wringing her hands. Ron and Ginny stood close by, along with that opaque ghost of a house-spirit. They each looked happy to see him. What an odd turn of events.

"Remarkably alive," he croaked, his voice parched and aching. Why did it hurt so much? Oh yes, giving up all of one's magic to another could have unexpected effects on one's body. "How is Harry?" he asked.

"Oh, he was beat to shit, worse than you were, and we could barely touch him 'cause he was charged with so much electricity and magic..."

"Dark magic," interrupted Ginny.

"…but he seems to be healing." Ron said with relief.

"Though you… well, you're not doing so well, Severus. We aren't sure why, other than the fact that you might need blood—don't worry, none of us did anything about that," Hermione said in a rush. "When Harry wakes I am sure you two can… umm… share a meal together." She blushed and Severus found it oddly endearing.

"What happened?" Ginny whispered urgently. "The tracking charms we had on you went all screwy when we tried to follow. We searched for hours and we finally found Harry in the snow. He was half frozen to death, half burnt to a crisp, look like he'd been hit by lighting, and was so full of magic--more magic than any one person could handle. Around him were bits and pieces of a body; we found an arm and some guts but little else, and then we found you with a few wooden stakes jammed into your chest at the end of a nearby cave. Luckily none of them pierced your heart." She spoke in quiet awe and Severus felt strangely proud that he could shock this woman who had become so blasé.

"Yeah, mate. There wasn’t anyone else around, just lots of footprints at the cave entrance. Did you do it? Did you kill Voldemort?" Ron asked with fever in his eyes.

Severus began to shake his head that he didn't know, but then stopped and gently removed his arm from around Harry and lifted up his sleeve. He looked for his Dark Mark and found that it had faded to nothing but an ugly white scar. Ron whooped.

He looked back up to these three, the best friends of his bond mate and shared their excitement and their relief. He shared their love for Harry.

And he was happy.

"Let's let them sleep some more. I'll tell Kingsley and we should contact the rest of the Order and the Ministry and our mom, oh yeah, mom will want to know. My God. We are done! We can go home!" Ginny's joyous screeching faded as the three left the room and Severus fell back to sleep with the quiet house-spirit watching over them.

END BIT 12

Epilogue