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The sharp stab of fangs, the sting of air-exposed flesh, those aches in muscles held tense for so long... all started to fade as darkness clouded his vision.
His last conscious thought was of Hermione. Perhaps it was just the neurotoxin, but a corner of his lip twitched in what, he imagined, was his last laugh. He'd kept his promises - so many of them - to himself, and Dumbledore, and Lily, and Hermione.
The Dark Lord would fall that night. He'd helped ensure that.
After a certain point the body relaxed, as if accepting its fate. His breathing slowed and then... a final breath; a sigh of relief.
He'd have thought that would be it.
He actually thought on how strange it was that he'd just thought that.
And that.
He quickly decided against thinking in circles.
The darkness of oblivion had faded into the darkness of night. He found himself wandering at the edge of the Black Lake. He doubted he was a ghost: as he looked across the water he could see the castle through the mist, intact as it had been before what would be the final battle. This was a vision, and it was this fact that made him pause as he doubted it's reality.
Because there - there - upon the shore, stood a woman.
He'd missed her for what seemed far too long a time.
She turned her face and met him with a smile. Her bushy hair wavered on a slight breeze, a couple of strands blowing across her face, which clearly irritated her as she tried, unsuccessfully, to tuck them aside.
He approached her swiftly, still not quite believing his eyes. It was only when he raised a hand, bringing his fingers to her cheek, that he realised it didn't matter how real this moment was, he welcomed it just as he welcomed her presence.
She caught him by the front of his robes and pressed her mouth to his.
Dear gods, if this was the start of some afterlife he liked where it was heading.
She left him a little breathless - ironic, given he had been sure he'd breathed his last several minutes ago - and herself the same apparently, as he watched her draw breath between parted, flushed lips.
'It's done? Harry will succeed?' She looked up at him with earnest hope in those dark brown eyes. Their glossiness betrayed the welling of emotion inside and seemed to catch the light of the stars in the infinity above them.
'I'm sure of it. I could do no more.'
'And that's all I could ask. Come on,' she said as she led him by the hand to a little boat beside the lake.
'Where are we going?' he asked as he followed her into it and settled by her side. The boat pulled away from the gravel at the edge, drifting through the water and into the mist.
A contented smile played on her lips as she pressed herself into his side and looked up at him.
'Anywhere. Everywhere. Nowhere. Home,' she cryptically answered.
Curious as he was, he'd settle with that answer.
Really, it was just another thing that didn't matter: he was with her, and that was enough.