Archive of Our Own

Author's Note: This story is dedicated to my friend for her birthday. Also if you notice any mistakes, then please comment so that I'm aware and can fix it.

Regulus Arcturus Black was a Deatheater. Loyal to Lord Voldemort, Regulus committed many crimes, including the torture and killing of muggles and the persecution of Muggle-borns. But in the end, Regulus sacrificed himself to destroy Voldemort's locket horcrux in the horcrux cave. Regulus Black was a hero that no one knew existed. We never saw this hidden hero's tragic death, but we can imagine it. This story is about the life and lies of Regulus Arcturus Black, Heir of The Most Ancient And Noble House Of Black, Deatheater and traitor to the Dark Lord Voldemort.

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Water. He was drowning in pitch black water; The Inferi were dragging him down, deeper and deeper as his lungs closed. 'I'm sorry Sirius, sorry I wasn't a good brother, I'm sorry Sirius, please forgive me' thought Regulus Black as his lungs stopped and his eyes closed.
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Gray eyes opened to dim light. Regulus was confused. He should be dead, not opening his eyes to the dim light of the horcrux cave. Regulus went into this expecting to die. He was not supposed to live. Some might say that he did this as a suicide, but Regulus truly wanted to stop Voldemort. Regulus looked around, seeing himself on a stony floor. He groaned, his head hurt a lot; the Inferi must have banged his head against something. 'I suppose since I survived I should leave this wretched place' thought Regulus as he stood shakily.

He observed his surroundings. He was still in the cave, and he could see the island where the goblet and fake horcrux were. 'I need to leave' thought Regulus. The boy of 18 years walked to where the exit was and tried to walk through the doorway. The keyword, tried. Regulus tried to walk through the doorway when an invisible chain forced him backward. 'I need to get out of here!' The last thing Regulus wanted was to be trapped in a confined space when Voldemort eventually came. Afterall, Voldemort's crucios were very painful.
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Regulus Black was no stranger to pain. Growing up he and his brother would regularly be tortured with the Cruciatus curse under their mother's misguided teachings. Ever since he could remember, Walburga Black had taught Regulus the Dark Arts. Walburga had never used the killing curse, but often used the Cruciatus curse and the Imperius curse. Walburga was never shy about teaching her son's the Dark Arts, especially the forbidden curses. Regulus was 16 when he was first placed under Voldemort's Crucio. He had yet to turn 17. The Dark Lord's Crucio felt like acid, all of the worst blood boiling curses and pain curses combined. Regulus had thought his mother's crucio was hell, was nothing compared to the Dark Lords. Regulus quickly rose up the ranks of the Deatheaters and became one of The Dark Lord's Inner Circle. Regulus Black was very well acquainted with pain, so the Inferi drowning him wasn't very painful compared to Voldemort's Crucio.
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Regulus had tried to escape the cave. After his 55th time trying to escape, he gave up. Regulus had found a small 5 room house that was in sight of the horcrux island. He soon discovered that he didn't need to eat to survive and started counting the days, which was pretty hard since he didn't have his wand and sunlight never came in. Regulus soon lost track of the days, but after what he suspected 2 years had already passed. Regulus knew that he would probably never escape from this cursed place, so he accepted his fate. Regulus was laying in the bed he found in the house, thinking of his lover. 'Ah, James. I'm so sorry for leaving you.' Regulus's eyes watered and he began crying. 'I left you. You and our son' thought Regulus. Regulus remembered when James had told him that they were going to have a son, Regulus had fainted and Lily was laughing. Lily Evans was Regulus and James's best friend. The days passed and time became meaningless. Regulus didn't know how long he'd been in the cave and he would regularly try to escape.

Timeskip - Half Blood Prince - Dumbledore & Harry at the Horcrux island

Regulus watched Dumbledore drink the potion on the island that he himself had drunk a long time ago. His eyes darkened as he saw a boy, probably no older than 16. 'What moron would bring a child here' thought Regulus furiously as Dumbledore and the boy approached the center of the island where the potion was. 'Oh, wait. Dumbledore would bring a child here,' thought Regulus 'The kid is probably underage too. Could Dumbledore go any lower.' Regulus's attention was drawn to the boy, who looked like James. 'That boy is what I've always imagined mine and James son would look like.'

Harry's P.O.V

Harry was scared. The cave had an evil aura surrounding it. Dumbledore didn't look worried, but that didn't help Harry's stress. There was another aura in the cave, but it was quite strange. It was an aura of sadness and curiosity.

The island was no larger than Dumbledore's office, an expanse of flat dark stone on which stood nothing but the source of that greenish light, which looked much brighter when viewed close to. Harry squinted at it; at first, he thought it was a lamp of some kind, but then he saw that the light was coming from a stone basin rather like the Pensieve, which was set on top of a pedestal. Dumbledore approached the basin and Harry followed.

Side by side, they looked down into it. The basin was full of an emerald liquid emitting that phosphorescent glow. "What is it?" asked Harry quietly. "I am not sure," said Dumbledore. "Something more worrisome than blood and bodies, however." Dumbledore pushed back the sleeve of his robe over his blackened hand, and stretched out the tips of his burned fingers toward the surface of the potion. "Sir, no, don't touch--!" "I cannot touch," said Dumbledore, smiling faintly.

"See? I cannot approach any nearer than this. You try." Staring, Harry put his hand into the basin and attempted to touch the potion. He met an invisible barrier that prevented him from coming within an inch of it. No matter how hard he pushed, his fingers encountered nothing but what seemed to be solid and flexible air. "Out of the way, please, Harry," said Dumbledore. He raised his wand and made complicated movements over the surface of the-potion, murmuring soundlessly.

Nothing happened, except perhaps that the potion glowed a little brighter. Harry remained silent while Dumbledore worked, but after a while Dumbledore withdrew his wand, and Harry felt it was safe to talk again. "You think the Horcrux is in there, sir?" "Oh yes." Dumbledore peered more closely into the basin. Harry saw his face reflected, upside down, in the smooth surface of the green potion.

"But how to reach it? This potion cannot be penetrated by hand, Vanished, parted, scooped up, or siphoned away, nor can it be Transfigured, Charmed, or otherwise made to change its nature." Almost absent-mindedly, Dumbledore raised his wand again, twirled it once in midair, and then caught the crystal goblet that he had conjured out of nowhere. "I can only conclude that this potion is supposed to be drunk."

"What?" said Harry. "No!" "Yes, I think so: only by drinking it can I empty the basin and see what lies in its depths." "But what if-- what if it kills you?" "Oh, I doubt that it would work like that," said Dumbledore easily. "Lord Voldemort would not want to kill the person who reached this island." Harry couldn't believe it. Was this more of Dumbledore's insane determination to see good in everyone?

"Sir," said Harry, trying to keep his voice reasonable, "sir, this is Voldemort we're -"

"I'm sorry, Harry; I should have said, he would not want to immediately kill the person who reached this island," Dumbledore corrected himself. "He would want to keep them alive long enough to find out how they managed to penetrate so far through his defenses and, most importantly of all, why they were so intent upon emptying the basin. Do not forget that Lord Voldemort believes that he alone knows about his Horcruxes."

Harry made to speak again, but this time Dumbledore raised his hand for silence, frowning slightly at the emerald liquid, evidently thinking hard.

"Undoubtedly," he said, finally, "this potion must act in a way that will prevent me from taking the Horcrux. It might paralyze me, cause me to forget what I am here for, create so much pain I am distracted, or render me incapable in some other way. This being the case, Harry, it will be your job to make sure I keep drinking, even if you have to tip the potion into my protesting mouth. You understand?"

Their eyes met over the basin, each pale face lit with that strange, green light. Harry did not speak. Was this why he had been invited along--so that he could force-feed Dumbledore a potion that might cause him unendurable pain?

"You remember," said Dumbledore, "the condition on which I brought you with me?"

Harry hesitated, looking into the blue eyes that had turned green in the reflected light of the basin.

"But what if--?"

"You swore, did you not, to follow any command I gave you?"

"Yes, but-"

"I warned you, did I not, that there might be danger?"

"Yes," said Harry, "but -"

"Well, then," said Dumbledore, shaking back his sleeves once more and raising the empty goblet, "you have my orders."

"Why can't I drink the potion instead?" asked Harry desperately.

"Because I am much older, much cleverer, and much less valuable," said Dumbledore. "Once and for all, Harry, do I have your word that you will do all in your power to make me keep drinking?"

"Couldn't-?"

"Do I have it?"

"But-""

"Your word, Harry."

"I --all right, but-"

Before Harry could make any further protest, Dumbledore lowered the crystal goblet into the potion. For a split second, Harry hoped that he would not be able to touch the potion with the goblet, but the crystal sank into the surface as nothing else had; when the glass was full to the brim, Dumbledore lifted it to his mouth.

"Your good health, Harry."

And he drained the goblet. Harry watched, terrified, his hands gripping the rim of the basin so hard that his fingertips were numb.

"Professor?" Harry said anxiously, as Dumbledore lowered the empty glass. "How do you feel?"

Dumbledore shook his head, his eyes closed. Harry wondered whether he was in pain. Dumbledore plunged the glass blindly back into the basin, refilled it, and drank once more.

In silence, Dumbledore drank three gobletsful of the potion. Then, halfway through the fourth goblet, he staggered and fell forward against the basin. His eyes were still closed, his breathing heavy.

"Professor Dumbledore?" said Harry, his voice strained. "Can you hear me?"

Dumbledore did not answer. His face was twitching as though he was deeply asleep, but dreaming a horrible dream. His grip on the goblet was slackening; the potion was about to spill from it. Harry reached forward and grasped the crystal cup, holding it steady.

"Professor, can you hear me?" he repeated loudly, his voice echoing around the cavern.

Dumbledore panted and then spoke in a voice Harry did not recognize, for he had never heard Dumbledore frightened like this.

"I don't want. . . don't make me. . ."

Harry stared into the whitened face he knew so well, at the crooked nose and half-moon spectacles, and did not know what to do.

". . . don't like. . . want to stop. . ." moaned Dumbledore.

"You. . . you can't stop, Professor," said Harry. "You've got to keep drinking, remember? You told me you had to keep drinking. Here. . ."

Hating himself, repulsed by what he was doing, Harry forced the goblet back toward Dumbledore's mouth and tipped it, so that Dumbledore drank the remainder of the potion inside.

"No . . ." he groaned, as Harry lowered the goblet back into the basin and refilled it for him. "I don't want to. . . . I don't want to. . . let me go. . ."

"It's all right, Professor," said Harry, his hand shaking. "It's all right, I'm here -"

"Make it stop, make it stop," moaned Dumbledore.

"Yes. . . yes, this'll make it stop," lied Harry. He tipped the contents of the goblet into Dumbledore's open mouth. Dumbledore screamed; the noise echoed all around the vast chamber, across the dead black water.

"No, no, no, no, I can't, I can't, don't make me, I don't want to. . ."

"It's all right, Professor, it's all right!" said Harry loudly, his hands shaking so badly he could hardly scoop up the sixth gobletful of potion; the basin was now half empty. "Nothing's happening to you, you're safe, it isn't real, I swear it isn't real--take this, now, take this. . ."

And obediently, Dumbledore drank, as though it was an antidote Harry offered him, but upon draining the goblet, he sank to his knees, shaking uncontrollably.

"It's all my fault, all my fault," he sobbed. "Please make it stop, I know I did wrong, oh please make it stop and I'll never, never again . . ."

"This will make it stop, Professor," Harry said, his voice cracking as he tipped the seventh glass of potion into Dumbledore's mouth.

Dumbledore began to cower as though invisible torturers surrounded him; his flailing hand almost knocked the refilled goblet from Harry's trembling hands as he moaned, "Don't hurt them, don't hurt them, please, please, it's my fault, hurt me instead . . ."

"Here, drink this, drink this, you'll be alright," said Harry desperately, and once again Dumbledore obeyed him, opening his mouth even as he kept his eyes tight shut and shook from head to foot.

And now he fell forward, screaming again, hammering his fists upon the ground, while Harry filled the ninth goblet.

"Please, please, please, no . . . not that, not that, I'll do anything . . ."

"Just drink, Professor, just drink. . ."

Dumbledore drank like a child dying of thirst, but when he had finished, he yelled again as though his insides were on fire.

"No more, please, no more . . ."

Harry scooped up a tenth goblet full of potion and felt the crystal scrape the bottom of the basin.

"We're nearly there, Professor. Drink this, drink it. . ."

He supported Dumbledore's shoulders and again, Dumbledore drained the glass; then Harry was on his feet once more, refilling the goblet as Dumbledore began to scream in more anguish than ever, "I want to die! I want to die! Make it stop, make it stop, I want to die!"

"Drink this, Professor. Drink this. . ."

Dumbledore drank, and no sooner had he finished than he yelled, "KILL ME!"

"This--this one will!" gasped Harry. "Just drink this . . . it'll be over . . . all over!"no

Dumbledore gulped at the goblet, drained every last drop, and then, with a great, rattling gasp, rolled over onto his face.

"No!" shouted Harry, who had stood to refill the goblet again; instead he dropped the cup into the basin, flung himself down beside Dumbledore, and heaved him over onto his back; Dumbledore's glasses were askew, his mouth agape, his eyes closed. "No." said Harry, shaking Dumbledore, "no, you're not dead, you said it wasn't poison, wake up, wake up--Rennervate!" he cried, his wand pointing at Dumbledore's chest; there was a flash of red light but nothing happened. "Rennervate--sir--please -"

Dumbledore's eyelids flickered; Harry's heart leapt.

"Sir, are you--?"

"Water," croaked Dumbledore.

"Water," panted Harry. "--yes -"

He leapt to his feet and seized the goblet he had dropped in the basin; he barely registered the golden locket lying curled beneath it.

"Aguamenti!" Harry shouted, jabbing the goblet with his wand.

The goblet filled with clear water; Harry dropped to his knees beside Dumbledore, raised his head, and brought the glass to his lips--but it was empty. Dumbledore groaned and began to pant.

"But I had some--wait--Aguamenti!" said Harry again, pointing his wand at the goblet. Once more, for a second, clear water gleamed within it, but as he approached Dumbledore's mouth, the water vanished again.

"Sir, I'm trying, I'm trying!" said Harry desperately, but he did not think that Dumbledore could hear him; he had rolled onto his side and was drawing great, rattling breaths that sounded agonizing. "Aguamenti--Aguamenti--AGUAMENTI!"

The goblet filled and emptied once more. And now Dumbledore's breathing was fading. His brain whirling in panic, Harry knew, instinctively, the only way left to get water, because Voldemort had planned it so . . .

He flung himself over to the edge of the rock and plunged the goblet into the lake, bringing it up full to the brim of icy water that did not vanish. "Sir--here!" Harry yelled, and lunging forward, he tipped the water clumsily over Dumbledore's face.

It was the best he could do, for the icy feeling on his arm not holding the cup was not the lingering chill of the water. A slimy white hand had gripped his wrist, and the creature to whom it belonged was pulling him, slowly, backward across the rock. The surface of the lake was no longer mirror-smooth; it was churning, and everywhere Harry looked, white heads and hands were emerging from the dark water, men and women and children with sunken, sightless eyes were moving toward the rock: an army of the dead rising from the black water.

"Petrificus Totalus!" yelled Harry, struggling to cling to the smooth, soaked surface of the island as he pointed his wand at the Inferius that had his arm. It released him, falling backward into the water with a splash; he scrambled to his feet, but many more Inferi were already climbing onto the rock, their bony hands clawing at its slippery surface, their blank, frosted eyes upon him, trailing waterlogged rags, sunken faces leering.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry bellowed again, backing away as he swiped his wand through the air; six or seven of them crumpled, but more were coming toward him. "Impedimenta! Incarcerous!"

A few of them stumbled, one or two of them bound in ropes, but those climbing onto the rock behind them merely stepped over or on the fallen bodies. Still slashing at the air with his wand, Harry yelled, "Sectumsempra! SECTUMSEMPRA!"

But though gashes appeared in their sodden rags and their icy skin, they had no blood to spill: they walked on, unfeeling, their shrunken hands outstretched toward him, and as he backed away still farther, he felt arms enclose him from behind, thin, fleshless arms cold as death, and his feet left the ground as they lifted him and began to carry him, slowly and surely, back to the water, and he knew there would be no release, that he would be drowned, and become one more dead guardian of a fragment of Voldemort's shattered soul. . .

But then, through the darkness, a voice spoke and fire erupted: crimson and gold, a ring of fire that surrounded the rock so that the Inferi holding Harry so tightly stumbled and faltered; they did not dare pass through the flames to get to the water. They dropped Harry; he hit the ground, slipped on the rock, and fell, grazing his arms, then scrambled back up, raising his wand and staring around. Harry was met with a man who looked 35. The man had silver-gray eyes with black hair. He had a slim figure and looked like he'd be a seeker for quidditch. Harry coughed; the Inferi had bruised him a little.

The man looked at where Dumbledore still laid and scowled. "What a fool," sneered the man in disdain. "Only a fool would bring a child here." The man turned to look at Harry. The man's voice softened as he spoke. "Child, why did you come here with Dumbledore?" Harry looked into the man's eyes and saw kindness and a deep layer of guilt. "I insisted on coming to destroy the horcrux," explained Harry. The man frowned. "The horcrux is gone child. I gave it away so that it could be destroyed" said the man. Harry gasped.

"Then Dumbledore didn't have to drink that....that potion!" The man's lips tightened a little. "If Dumbledore was great at seeing the past, then he should've known that this mission here was a suicide mission!" The man seemed angry. "Umm, what's your name sir," asked Harry curiously. "Re-" the man started "Reg Parkers." "Nice to meet you Mr. Parkers," said Harry "I'm Harry." Reg looked at Dumbledore again. "Harry," said Reg slowly, "Do you know about the curse on the cave?" Harry frowned. "What curse?" Reg paled slightly.

"The Dark Lord placed a curse on this cave. Whoever enters this cave will be trapped here for the rest of their lives." Harry was numb, his brain stopped, his heartbeat slow. "T....trapped? Dumbledore and I.... will be trapped here....forever," Harry whispered numbly. Reg looked guilty. "Well, you don't have to be trapped here. The curse is when one person enters then they are trapped, but when two people enter then one may leave and the other shall stay. You can leave, but Dumbledore will be trapped," explained Reg. 'I could leave, but Dumbledore....... Would have to stay,' thought Harry 'Dumbledore, has more of a chance of being able to stop Voldemort then me. I can't do that. I have to stay and let Dumbledore escape.'

Harry took a deep breath. "Harry? Are you alright?" asked Reg concerned. "Reg. Help me get Dumbledore out of here." "Harry...." said Reg. "Please Reg," Harry's voice cracked. "....alright." Together Reg and Harry took Dumbledore to the entrance and Reg vanished Dumbledore to Hogsmeade. The water from the cliff could be heard as the two males stood still. "I hope that you do not regret this." "Me too Reg, me too."

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Harry was eating with Reg in the house. "Tell me about yourself" said Reg as he put his fork down. "Well," said Harry, frowning "When I was a baby, Voldemort tried to kill me." Reg's eyes flew up. "There was a prophecy that said that I would be the one to vanquish the Dark Lord. My parents died protecting me, and my mothers love is what saved me, according to Dumbledore. I grew up with my aunt and uncle, nasty muggles, the worst type of muggles. During my first year at Hogwarts, I was sorted into Gryffindor, made enemies with Draco Malfoy, fought a troll, gave a baby dragon to dragon handlers at midnight, got detention in the Forbidden Forest after dark, saw someone drink the blood of a unicorn, looked into the Mirror of Erised, nearly died from someone cursing by broom while playing quidditch, passed three deadly trials to get the Sorcerer's Stone, faced a Cerberus, faced a weakened Voldemort, killed my professor who was being possessed by Voldemort," Harry took a deep breath.

"All of that happened in your first year at Hogwarts!" exclaimed Reg shocked "How are you still alive!" Harry shrugged. "Don't know."

Regulus's P.O.V

'How the hell is this kid still alive! An eleven year old should have died. Just who is this kid?' Harry began to speak again. "In second year, a house elf blocked the entrance to Kings Cross and me and my best friend had to steal his father's enchanted car and drove to Hogwarts, we got there and got hit by the Whomping Willow." Regulus flinched.

"I nearly died playing quidditch again, faced deadly poisonous spiders, the Chamber of Secrets reopened, faced a basilisk and Malfoy Sr threw an Avada Kedrava at me." Regulus blew a fuse. "A BASILISK! A 12 YEAR OLD BOY HAD TO FACE A BASILISK! AND LUCIUS THREW THE KILLING CURSE AT YOU!!!" Regulus was understandably beyond furious and was ready to go and kill his old friend. "When I get out of here I'm going to kill Lucius" muttered Regulus.

"Reg," said Harry softly, "I'm fine. See, I'm not dead, the basilisk didn't kill me, nor did Malfoy." Regulus nodded in exhaustion. "Maybe we can continue this story in a couple of days," said Regulus. Harry nodded in agreement. Harry and Regulus bonded over the next few days. One day, Harry came to Regulus with a request. "Please teach the Dark Arts!" To say that Regulus was surprised would be an understatement.

"Tell me why I should teach you the Dark Arts?" questioned Regulus. Harry opened his mouth to speak. "Think carefully about your answer. Take as much time as you need." For the next week Regulus observed Harry from the house, as Harry had taken to sitting near the Inferi infested lake. Harry had yet to come up with an answer. Finally, Harry approached Regulus. "I want to learn the Dark Arts because I know how biased the wizarding world is against anything but 'Light magic'. For example, Wingardium Leviosa could be used to float a rock and let it drop onto a person's head and could kill that person. Avada Kedavra could be used to quickly end someone's suffering, just like Wingardium Leviosa can be used to kill. That is my answer, this is why I want to learn the Dark Arts."

Regulus grinned. "Wonderful answer! I accept you as my apprentice. Also, you have to tell me about your 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th years at Hogwarts yet." Harry smiled. "Right, forget about that. I'll tell you tonight." That night after eating supper, Regulus and Harry sat down on the couch that had surprisingly been there when Regulus had first discovered the little house in the cave. "So. Third year was relatively calm." Regulus felt relief. "So, a mass murder who killed a dozen muggles broke out of Azkaban." Regulus choked on his own spit.

"The mass murder was Sirius Black-" "WHAT!" exclaimed Regulus fuming "Sirius Black would never have the guts to kill! Sirius would never, despite the fact that Mother-" "Sirius was innocent. Peter Pettigrew framed Sirius for it, and Pettigrew faked his death." Regulus felt better after Harry explained it. 'Sirius....I hope you're doing alright. Azkaban is pretty...awful.' Regulus remembered the one time that his father took him with to visit Azkaban. 'Those screams.....and the insane laughter. The dementors sucking out a person's soul......I will never forget that.' Regulus shivered as though dementors were near him again.

Harry spoke, rousing Regulus out of his thoughts as Harry continued. "Everyone thought that Sirius was after me, but Sirius wasn't; he was after Pettigrew who was posing as the Weasley's rat. I learned the Patronus Charm and drove away a hundred dementors and used a time turner to save Sirius from being Kissed." Regulus froze. 'Sirius.....was that close to being Kissed!' Harry continued, unaware of Regulus's inner feelings. "In fourth year, Deatheaters attacked at the World Cup and someone used my wand to conjure the dark mark. The Triwizard Tournament was happening at Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrived at Hogwarts and a Hufflepuff, Cedric Diggory was Hogwarts Champion and I got put into the tournament. I faced dragons, merpeople, anti-gravity spells,a Blast-Ended Skrewts, a Boggart, a Sphinx, and a giant spider. Voldemort used an ancient ritual to have a body again and I faced him once again."

"Wow," said Regulus faintly, "How are you still alive?" Harry shrugged. "I don't know. If I was normal I'd have died when I faced that troll on Halloween in first year." Regulus took a breath to calm himself. "Are you alright Reg?" "Yes, it's just, I have an older brother and a child, so you going through these things is like my brother and child doing what you are doing." "Reg." "Yes Harry." "Why do you say child? Don't you know if the child is a boy or girl?" Regulus laughed sadly.

"No, I don't. My child had yet to be born when I went into this wretched cave. I knew that if I went in here, then I would die and I wanted to make it easier to kill Voldemort so that my child and family could live happily. My life is just a small sacrifice for my family's happiness." "Reg, I-I'm so sor-" "It doesn't matter," said Regulus tiredly "As long as my family is safe, I am content to stay here, in this cave, for the rest of my life." Harry was silent after that. 'I wonder if I went too far, telling this boy all of this,' thought Regulus 'He looks like what I'd imagine my child would look like. James, I'm sorry that I left you.'

Harry P.O.V.

Harry had decided. Reg Parkers was an enigma, a mystery to be solved. From what Reg had told Harry, since Reg knew Lucius Malfoy, then Reg must have gone to school with him, and since Lucius graduated from Hogwarts in his parent's 3rd year, then Reg might have known James and Lily, as well as Sirius, Pettigrew and Lupin. Reg was probably a Ravenclaw or Slytherin based on Reg's personality and clothes. When Reg had entered the cave he had an unborn child, yet he still went into this knowing that he would die. Harry admired Reg for that. 'I want to know more about Reg and his family.' Harry approached Reg later the next day. "Reg, can you tell me more about yourself? I'll tell you my last name." Reg smiled. "Sure." Reg took a breath.

"I went to Hogwarts during the time of the Marauders. I have an older brother. I am the younger son of Walburga and Orion Black and my older brother is Sirius Black-" "What! Sirius is your brother!Are you serious" said Harry, gaping at Reg. "I'm not serious, I'm Regulus Arcturus Black." Harry's eyes watered. "Regulus Black. Sirius told me that you were dead, so this is shocking" said Harry "My full name is Harry James Potter." Harry didn't see Regulus's shocked face.

"My parents are Lily and James Potter. They sacrificed themselves for me when Voldemort attacked us 16 years ago. I also discovered when I went to Gringotts that Lily Evans wasn't my mother. The goblins also told me that James and another male were my parents. I read James and Lily's will, saying that James and Lily married only each other to protect James's husband and spare me the grief that people would give me after James's husband disappeared. My dad said in his will that he knew that my father was alive, dad wrote that it was gut instinct. Because dad felt that father was alive somewhere, I too believe that my father is alive," finished Harry.

"Harry.....James.......Potter" said Regulus slowly "You are James Potter's son." Harry nodded. "Hadrien Potter" mumbled Regulus. Regulus looked at Harry and Harry was surprised to see Regulus crying. "Regulus? Are you alright?" asked Harry tentatively. Regulus suddenly wrapped his arms around Harry. "I was in love, as you know. My husband was James Potter, and that makes you my son."

Harry blinked in shock. 'I'm Regulus's son. I have.........a family. I...I'm so happy.' A tear escaped from Harry's eyes and Regulus panicked. "Ah! Did I do something wrong!" Harry started to laugh and cry. "You didn't do anything wrong" cried Harry "I actually have a family." Harry looked at Regulus uncertainty and Regulus seemed to understand what Harry wanted. Regulus opened his arms and Harry hugged Regulus.

They just stood there, crying with their arms wrapped around each other. 'I really have a family.' thought Harry 'I wouldn't trade this for anything.' Harry and Regulus stayed like this for a long time. Harry finally felt at peace for the first time ever and Regulus was elated to finally be reunited with his son, even if it was at the cost of his husband and best friend.

One year later.

Hermione and Ron were in the Room of Requirements at Hogwarts, getting ready for the Battle of Hogwarts. The door that opened the passage from Hogwarts to the HogsHead opened and out stumbled a familiar face. Messy black hair, bright green eyes and a pair of familiar glasses. "Harry!" shouted Ron and Hermione in unison. Every head in the RoR turned to stare at Harry. There was dead silence for about 5 seconds before all hell broke loose. "Harry! Where have you been!" shouted Hermione. "I was so worried!" shouted Ginny. "Harry, dear, are you alright!?" asked Mrs. Weasley, shoving her way in front of the crowd that was surrounding Harry. "Harry" said Ron, noticing Regulus "Who is this?" Harry glanced at Regulus, then back at his friends. "I'll tell you later," Harry promised. "Harry!" said Remus rushing in to give Harry a hug. "You disappeared for almost a year and a half! Where have you been?" Harry smiled gently as he returned the hug. "I'll tell you everything later."

Remus only nodded and then he turned to Regulus. "Who are you?" "Reg Parkers" said Regulus smoothly. Remus's eyes narrowed, but nodded pleasantly. "How do you know Harry?" Regulus smiled pleasantly. "We were trapped in the same place for almost a year and a half. I probably know him better than his friends do." "Well I'm his godfather, and one of his parents best friends" smiled Remus pleasantly. Tension filled the air between them and Harry looked from Regulus to Remus and panicked a little. "Remus, Reg" said Harry "We have bigger things to worry about, like taking back Hogwarts." Remus blushed in embarrassment, light pink scattered across his face. "Sorry Harry" said Regulus, patting Harry on his head. Harry smiled up at his father. Remus frowned at the interaction. 'I wonder how they know each other so well.'

Timeskip - After Harry Faces Voldemort In The Forbidden Forest And Met Ghost Dumbledore At Kings Cross Dream

He was lying facedown on the ground again. The smell of the forest filled his nostrils. He could feel the cold hard ground beneath his cheek, and the hinge of his glasses, which had been knocked sideways by the fall, cutting into his temple. Every inch of him ached, and the place where the Killing Curse had hit him felt like the bruise of an iron-clad punch. He did not stir, but remained exactly where he had fallen, with his left arm bent out at an awkward angle and his mouth gaping.

He had expected to hear cheers of triumph and jubilation at his death, but instead hurried footsteps, whispers, and solicitous murmurs filled the air.

"My Lord . . . my Lord . . ."

It was Bellatrix's voice, and she spoke as if to a lover. Harry did not dare open his eyes, but allowed his other senses to explore his predicament. He knew that his wand was still stowed beneath his robes because he could feel it pressed between his chest and the ground. A slight cushioning effect in the area of his stomach told him that the Invisibility Cloak was also there, stuffed out of sight.

"My Lord . . ."

"That will do," said Voldemort's voice.

More footsteps: Several people were backing away from the same spot. Desperate to see what was happening and why, Harry opened his eyes by a millimeter.

Voldemort seemed to be getting to his feet. Various Death Eaters were hurrying away from him, returning to the crowd lining the clearing. Bellatrix alone remained behind, kneeling beside Voldemort.

Harry closed his eyes again and considered what he had seen. The Death Eaters had been huddled around Voldemort, who seemed to have fallen to the ground. Something had happened when he had hit Harry with the Killing Curse. Had Voldemort too collapsed? It seemed like it. And both of them had fallen briefly unconscious and both of them had now returned. . . .

"My Lord, let me -"

"I do not require assistance," said Voldemort coldly, and though he could not see it, Harry pictured Bellatrix withdrawing a helpful hand. "The boy . . . Is he dead?"

There was complete silence in the clearing. Nobody approached Harry, but he felt their concentrated gaze; it seemed to press him harder into the ground, and he was terrified a finger or an eyelid might twitch.

"You," said Voldemort, and there was a bang and a small shriek of pain. "Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead."

Harry did not know who had been sent to verify. He could only lie there, with his heart thumping traitorously, and wait to be examined, but at the same time noting, small comfort though it was, that Voldemort was wary of approaching him, that Voldemort suspected that all had not gone to plan. . . . 'I'm sorry father, I'm about to be discovered and will die, I'm sorry father, we didn't even spend 2 years together. I'm sorry father, so sorry. I'm sorry my love'

Hands, softer than he had been expecting, touched Harry's face, pulled back an eyelid, crept beneath his shirt, down to his chest, and felt his heart. He could hear the woman's fast breathing, her long hair tickled his face. He knew that she could feel the steady pounding of life against his ribs.

"Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?"

The whisper was barely audible; her lips were an inch from his ear, her head bent so low that her long hair shielded his face from the onlookers.

"Yes," he breathed back. He felt the hand on his chest contract; her nails pierced him. Then it was withdrawn. She had sat up.

"He is dead!" Narcissa Malfoy called to the watchers.

And now they shouted, now they yelled in triumph and stamped their feet, and through his eyelids, Harry saw bursts of red and silver light shoot into the air in celebration.

Still feigning death on the ground, he understood. Narcissa knew that the only way she would be permitted to enter Hogwarts, and find her son, was as part of the conquering army. She no longer cared whether Voldemort won.

"You see?" screeched Voldemort over the tumult. "Harry Potter is dead by my hand, and no man alive can threaten me now! Watch! Crucio!"

Harry had been expecting it, knew his body would not be allowed to remain unsullied upon the forest floor; it must be subjected to humiliation to prove Voldemort's victory. He was lifted into the air, and it took all his determination to remain limp, yet the pain he expected did not come. He was thrown once, twice, three times into the air: His glasses flew off and he felt his wand slide a little beneath his robes, but he kept himself floppy and lifeless, and when he fell to the ground for the last time, the clearing echoed with jeers and shrieks of laughter.

"Now," said Voldemort, "we go to the castle, and show them what has become of their hero. Who shall drag the body? No - Wait -"

There was a fresh outbreak of laughter, and after a few moments Harry felt the ground trembling beneath him.

"You carry him," Voldemort said. "He will be nice and visible in your arms, will he not? Pick up your little friend, Hagrid. And the glasses - put on the glasses - he must be recognizable -"

Someone slammed Harry's glasses back onto his face with deliberate force, but the enormous hands that lifted him into the air were exceedingly gentle. Harry could feel Hagrid's arms trembling with the force of his heaving sobs; great tears splashed down upon him as Hagrid cradled Harry in his arms, and Harry did not dare, by movement or word, to intimate to Hagrid that all was not, yet, lost.

"Move," said Voldemort, and Hagrid stumbled forward, forcing his way through the close-growing trees, back through the forest. Branches caught at Harry's hair and robes, but he lay quiescent, his mouth lolling open, his eyes shut, and in the darkness, while the Death Eaters crowded all around them, and while Hagrid sobbed blindly, nobody looked to see whether a pulse beat in the exposed neck of Harry Potter. . . .

The two giants crashed along behind the Death Eaters; Harry could hear trees creaking and falling as they passed; they made so much din that birds rose shrieking into the sky, and even the jeers of the Death Eaters were drowned. The victorious procession marched on toward the open ground, and after a while Harry could tell, by the lightening of the darkness through his closed eyelids, that the trees were beginning to thin.

"BANE!"

Hagrid's unexpected bellow nearly forced Harry's eyes open. "Happy now, are yeh, that yeh didn' fight, yeh cowardly bunch o' nags? Are yeh happy Harry Potter's - d-dead . . . ?"

Hagrid could not continue, but broke down in fresh tears. Harry wondered how many centaurs were watching their procession pass; he dared not open his eyes to look. Some of the Death Eaters called insults at the centaurs as they left them behind. A little later, Harry sensed, by a freshening of the air, that they had reached the edge of the forest.

"Stop."

Harry thought that Hagrid must have been forced to obey Voldemort's command, because he lurched a little. And now a chill settled over them where they stood, and Harry heard the rasping breath of the dementors that patrolled the outer trees. They would not affect him now. The fact of his own survival burned inside him, a talisman against them, as though his father's stag kept guardian in his heart.

Someone passed close by Harry, and he knew that it was Voldemort himself because he spoke a moment later, his voice magically magnified so that it swelled through the grounds, crashing upon Harry's eardrums.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone.

"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

There was silence in the grounds and from the castle. Voldemort was so close to him that Harry did not dare open his eyes again.

"Come," said Voldemort, and Harry heard him move ahead, and Hagrid was forced to follow. Now Harry opened his eyes a fraction, and saw Voldemort striding in front of them, wearing the great snake Nagini around his shoulders, now free of her enchanted cage. But Harry had no possibility of extracting the wand concealed under his robes without being noticed by the Death Eaters, who marched on either side of them through the slowly lightening darkness. . . .

"Harry," sobbed Hagrid. "Oh, Harry . . . Harry . . ."

Harry shut his eyes tight again. He knew that they were approaching the castle and strained his ears to distinguish, above the gleeful voices of the Death Eaters and their tramping footsteps, signs of life from those within.

"Stop." The Death Eaters came to a halt: Harry heard them spreading out in a line facing the open front doors of the school. He could see, even through his closed lids, the reddish glow that meant light streamed upon him from the entrance hall. He waited. Any moment, the people for whom he had tried to die would see him, lying apparently dead, in Hagrid's arms.

"NO!"

The scream was the most terrible because he had never expected or dreamed that Professor McGonagall could make such a sound. He heard another woman laughing nearby, and knew that Bellatrix gloried in McGonagall's despair. He squinted again for a single second and saw the open doorway filling with people, as the survivors of the battle came out onto the front steps to face their vanquishers and see the truth of Harry's death for themselves. He saw Voldemort standing a little in front of him, stroking Nagini's head with a single white finger. He closed his eyes again.

"No!"

"No!"

"Harry! HARRY!"

Ron's, Hermione's, and Ginny's voices were worse than McGonagall's; Harry wanted nothing more than to call back, yet he made himself lie silent, and their cries acted like a trigger; the crowd of survivors took up the cause, screaming and yelling abuse at the Death Eaters, until -

"SILENCE!" cried Voldemort, and there was a bang and a flash of bright light, and silence was forced upon them all. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

Harry felt himself lowered onto the grass.

"You see?" said Voldemort, and Harry felt him striding backward and forward right beside the place where he lay. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" yelled Ron, and the charm broke, and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again until a second, more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," said Voldemort, and there was relish in his voice for the lie, "killed while trying to save himself -"

But Voldemort broke off: Harry heard a scuffle and a shout, then another bang, a flash of light, and a grunt of pain; he opened his eyes an infinitesimal amount. Someone had broken free of the crowd and charged at Voldemort: Harry saw the figure hit the ground, Disarmed, Voldemort throwing the challenger's wand aside and laughing.

"And who is this?" he said in his soft snake's hiss. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

Bellatrix gave a delighted laugh.

"It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"

"Ah, yes, I remember," said Voldemort, looking down at Neville, who was struggling back to his feet, unarmed and unprotected, standing in the no-man's-land between the survivors and the Death Eaters. "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?" Voldemort asked Neville, who stood facing him, his empty hands curled in fists.

"So what if I am?" said Neville loudly.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over," said Neville. "Dumbledore's Army!" he shouted, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd, whom Voldemort's Silencing Charms seemed unable to hold.

"Very well," said Voldemort, and Harry heard more danger in the silkiness of his voice than in the most powerful curse. "If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head," he said quietly, "be it."

Still watching through his lashes, Harry saw Voldemort wave his wand. Seconds later, out of one of the castle's shattered windows, something that looked like a misshapen bird flew through the half light and landed in Voldemort's hand. He shook the mildewed object by its pointed end and it dangled, empty and ragged: the Sorting Hat.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School," said Voldemort. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"

He pointed his wand at Neville, who grew rigid and still, then forced the hat onto Neville's head, so that it slipped down below his eyes. There were movements from the watching crowd in front of the castle, and as one, the Death Eaters raised their wands, holding the fighters of Hogwarts at bay.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," said Voldemort, and with a flick of his wand, he caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames.

Screams split the dawn, and Neville was aflame, rooted to the spot, unable to move, and Harry could not bear it: He must act -

And then many things happened at the same moment.

They heard uproar from the distant boundary of the school as what sounded like hundreds of people came swarming over the out-of-sight walls and pelted toward the castle, uttering loud war cries. At the same time, Grawp came lumbering around the side of the castle and yelled, "HAGGER!" His cry was answered by roars from Voldemort's giants: They ran at Grawp like bull elephants, making the earth quake. Then came hooves and the twangs of bows, and arrows were suddenly falling amongst the Death Eaters, who broke ranks, shouting their surprise. Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak from inside his robes, swung it over himself, and sprang to his feet, as Neville moved too.

In one swift, fluid motion, Neville broke free of the Body-Bind Curse upon him; the flaming hat fell off him and he drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle -

The slash of the silver blade could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming crowd or the sounds of the clashing giants or of the stampeding centaurs, and yet it seemed to draw every eye. With a single stroke Neville sliced off the great snake's head, which spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the entrance hall, and Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake's body thudded to the ground at his feet -

Hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, Harry cast a Shield Charm between Neville and Voldemort before the latter could raise his wand. Then, over the screams and the roars and the thunderous stamps of the battling giants, Hagrid's yell came loudest of all.

"HARRY!" Hagrid shouted. "HARRY - WHERE'S HARRY?"

Chaos reigned. The charging centaurs were scattering the Death Eaters, everyone was fleeing the giants' stamping feet, and nearer and nearer thundered the reinforcements that had come from who knew where; Harry saw great winged creatures soaring around the heads of Voldemort's giants, thestrals and Buckbeak the hippogriff scratching at their eyes while Grawp punched and pummeled them; and now the wizards, defenders of Hogwarts and Death Eaters alike, were being forced back into the castle. Harry was shooting jinxes and curses at any Death Eater he could see, and they crumpled, not knowing what or who had hit them, and their bodies were trampled by the retreating crowd.

Still hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, Harry was buffeted into the entrance hall: He was searching for Voldemort and saw him across the room, firing spells from his wand as he backed into the Great Hall, still screaming instructions to his followers as he sent curses flying left and right; Harry cast more Shield Charms, and Voldemort's would-be victims, Seamus Finnigan and Hannah Abbott, darted past him into the Great Hall, where they joined the fight already flourishing inside it.

And now there were more, even more people storming up the front steps, and Harry saw Charlie Weasley overtaking Horace Slughorn, who was still wearing his emerald pajamas. They seemed to have returned at the head of what looked like the families and friends of every Hogwarts student who had remained to fight, along with the shopkeepers and homeowners of Hogsmeade. The centaurs Bane, Ronan, and Magorian burst into the hall with a great clatter of hooves, as behind Harry the door that led to the kitchens was blasted off its hinges.

The house-elves of Hogwarts swarmed into the entrance hall, screaming and waving carving knives and cleavers, and at their head, the locket of Regulus Black bouncing on his chest, was Kreacher, his bullfrog's voice audible even above this din: "Fight! Fight! Fight for my Master, defender of house-elves! Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!" Harry couldn't help but smile at the fact that Kreacher would be able to reunite with his master after all of this was all over.

They were hacking and stabbing at the ankles and shins of Death Eaters, their tiny faces alive with malice, and everywhere Harry looked Death Eaters were folding under sheer weight of numbers, overcome by spells, dragging arrows from wounds, stabbed in the leg by elves, or else simply attempting to escape, but swallowed by the oncoming horde.

But it was not over yet: Harry sped between duelers, past struggling prisoners, and into the Great Hall.

Voldemort was in the center of the battle, and he was striking and smiting all within reach. Harry could not get a clear shot, but fought his way nearer, still invisible, and the Great Hall became more and more crowded as everyone who could walk forced their way inside.

Harry saw Yaxley slammed to the floor by George and Lee Jordan, saw Dolohov fall with a scream at Flitwick's hands, saw Walden Macnair thrown across the room by Hagrid, hit the stone wall opposite, and slid unconscious to the ground. He saw Ron and Neville bringing down Fenrir Greyback, Aberforth Stunning Rookwood, Arthur and Percy flooring Thicknesse, and Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy running through the crowd, not even attempting to fight, screaming for their son.

Voldemort was now dueling McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley all at once, and there was cold hatred in his face as they wove and ducked around him, unable to finish him -Voldemort was now dueling McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley all at once, and there was cold hatred in his face as they wove and ducked around him, unable to finish him -

Bellatrix was still fighting too, fifty yards away from Voldemort, and like her master she dueled three at once: Hermione, Ginny, and Luna, all battling their hardest, but Bellatrix was equal to them, and Harry's attention was diverted as a Killing Curse shot so close to Ginny that she missed death by an inch -

He changed course, running at Bellatrix rather than Voldemort, but before he had gone a few steps he was knocked sideways.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

Mrs. Weasley threw off her cloak as she ran, freeing her arms. Bellatrix spun on the spot, roaring with laughter at the sight of her new challenger.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" shouted Mrs. Weasley to the three girls, and with a swipe of her wand she began to duel. Harry watched with terror and elation as Molly Weasley's wand slashed and twirled, and Bellatrix Lestrange's smile faltered and became a snarl. Jets of light flew from both wands, the floor around the witches' feet became hot and cracked; both women were fighting to kill.

"No!" Mrs. Weasley cried as a few students ran forward, trying to come to her aid. "Get back! Get back! She is mine!"

Hundreds of people now lined the walls, watching the two fights, Voldemort and his three opponents, Bellatrix and Molly, and Harry stood, invisible, torn between both, wanting to attack and yet to protect, unable to be sure that he would not hit the innocent.

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" taunted Bellatrix, as mad as her master, capering as Molly's curses danced around her. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

"You - will - never - touch - our - children - again!" screamed Mrs. Weasley.

Bellatrix laughed, the same exhilarated laugh her cousin Sirius had given as he toppled backward through the veil, and suddenly Harry knew what was going to happen before it did.

Molly's curse soared beneath Bellatrix's outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart.

Bellatrix's gloating smile froze, her eyes seemed to bulge: For the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened, and then she toppled, and the watching crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed. (Oh my, did Voldemort actually care for Bellatrix)

Harry felt as though he turned in slow motion; he saw McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn blasted backward, flailing and writhing through the air, as Voldemort's fury at the fall of his last, best lieutenant exploded with the force of a bomb. Voldemort raised his wand and directed it at Molly Weasley.

"Protego!" roared Harry, and the Shield Charm expanded in the middle of the Hall, and Voldemort stared around for the source as Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak at last.

The yell of shock, the cheers, the screams on every side of "Harry!" "HE'S ALIVE!" were stifled at once. The crowd was afraid, and silence fell abruptly and completely as Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. "It's got to be like this. It's gotta be me."

Voldemort hissed.

"Potter doesn't mean that," he said, his red eyes wide. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good. . . ."

"One of us?" jeered Voldemort, and his whole body was taut and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

"Accident, was it, when my 'mother' died to save me?" asked Harry. They were still moving sideways, both of them in that perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other, and for Harry no face existed but Voldemort's. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"

"Accidents!" screamed Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and the watching crowd was frozen as if Petrified, and of the hundreds in the Hall, nobody seemed to breathe but the two. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," said Harry as they circled, and stared into each other's eyes, green into red. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people -"

"But you did not!"

"- I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

"You dare -"

"Yes, I dare," said Harry. "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

Voldemort did not speak, but prowled in a circle, and Harry knew that he kept him temporarily mesmerized and at bay, held back by the faintest possibility that Harry might indeed know a final secret. . . .

"Is it love again?" said Voldemort, his snake's face jeering. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter - and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"

"Just one thing," said Harry, and still they circled each other, wrapped in each other, held apart by nothing but the last secret.

"If it is not love that will save you this time," said Voldemort, "you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

"I believe both," said Harry, and he saw shock flit across the snakelike face, though it was instantly dispelled; Voldemort began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening than his screams; humorless and insane, it echoed around the silent Hall.

"You think you know more magic than I do?" he said. "Then I, then Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it," said Harry, "but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."

"You mean he was weak!" screamed Voldemort. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"

"No, he was cleverer than you," said Harry, "a better wizard, a better man."

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"

"You thought you did," said Harry, "but you were wrong."

For the first time, the watching crowd stirred as the hundreds of people around the walls drew breath as one.

"Dumbledore is dead!" Voldemort hurled the words at Harry as though they would cause him unendurable pain. "His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"

"Yes, Dumbledore's dead," said Harry calmly, "but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

"What childish dream is this?" said Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and his red eyes did not waver from Harry's.

"Severus Snape wasn't yours," said Harry. "Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"

Voldemort did not answer. They continued to circle each other like wolves about to tear each other apart.

"Snape's Patronus was a doe," said Harry, "the same as my mother's, because he loved her for all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized," he said as he saw Voldemort's nostrils flare, "he asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"

"He desired her, that was all," sneered Voldemort, "but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him -"

"Of course he told you that," said Harry, "but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"

"It matters not!" shrieked Voldemort, who had followed every word with rapt attention, but now let out a cackle of mad laughter. "It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!

"Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy - I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, it did," said Harry. "You're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done. . . . Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle. . . ."

"What is this?"

Of all the things that Harry had said to him, beyond any revelation or taunt, nothing had shocked Voldemort like this. Harry saw his pupils contract to thin slits, saw the skin around his eyes whiten.

"It's your one last chance," said Harry, "it's all you've got left. . . . I've seen what you'll be otherwise. . . . Be a man . . . try . . . Try for some remorse. . . ."

"You dare - ?" said Voldemort again.

"Yes, I dare," said Harry, "because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle."

Voldemort's hand was trembling on the Elder Wand, and Harry gripped Draco's very tightly. The moment, he knew, was seconds away.

"That wand still isn't working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."

"He killed -"

"Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"

"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!" Voldemort's voice shook with malicious pleasure. "I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard. . . . The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance. . . ."

Voldemort's chest rose and fell rapidly, and Harry could feel the curse coming, feel it building inside the wand pointed at his face.

"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."

Blank shock showed in Voldemort's face for a moment, but then it was gone.

"But what does it matter?" he said softly. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone . . . and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy. . . ."

"But you're too late," said Harry. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him."

Harry twitched the hawthorn wand, and he felt the eyes of everyone in the Hall upon it.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does . . . I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort's was suddenly a flaming blur. Harry heard the high voice shriek as he too yelled his best hope to the heavens, pointing Draco's wand:

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The bang was like a cannon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Harry saw Voldemort's green jet meet his own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. The people sucked in a gasp as they saw the wand go flying.

Draco P.O.V

Draco watched as the Elder wand flew through the air, leaving Harry defenseless. Draco was frightened. 'I won't let Harry die! He can't die! I won't let him DIE!' Draco ran out of the Death Eaters side, running at Harry. "HARRY!" shouted Draco as he tossed his wand to Harry.

And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell.

One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around Harry as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air. Draco smiled, the fierce new sun dazzled the windows.

Harry P.O.V.

They thundered toward him, and the first to reach him were Ron and Hermione, and it was their arms that were wrapped around him, their incomprehensible shouts that deafened him. Then Ginny, Neville, and Luna were there, and then all the Weasleys and Hagrid, and Kingsley and McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout, and Harry could not hear a word that anyone was shouting, nor tell whose hands were seizing him, pulling him, trying to hug some part of him, hundreds of them pressing in, all of them determined to touch the Boy Who Lived, the reason it was over at last.

The sun rose steadily over Hogwarts, and the Great Hall blazed with life and light. Harry was an indispensable part of the mingled outpourings of jubilation and mourning, of grief and celebration. They wanted him there with them, their leader and symbol, their savior and their guide, and that he had not slept, that he craved the company of one, seemed to occur to no one. He must speak to the bereaved, clasp their hands, witness their tears, receive their thanks, hear the news now creeping in from every quarter as the morning drew on; that the Imperiused up and down the country had come back to themselves, that Death Eaters were fleeing or else being captured, that the innocent of Azkaban were being released at that very moment, and that Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named temporary Minister of Magic. . . .

They moved Voldemort's body and laid it in a chamber off the Hall, away from the bodies of Percy, Tonks, Lupin, Colin Creevey, and fifty others who had died fighting him. McGonagall had replaced the House tables, but nobody was sitting according to House anymore: All were jumbled together, teachers and pupils, ghosts and parents, centaurs and house-elves, and Firenze lay recovering in a corner, and Grawp peered in through a smashed window, and people were throwing food into his laughing mouth. After a while, exhausted and drained, Harry found himself sitting on a bench beside Luna.

"I'd want some peace and quiet, if it were me," she said.

"I'd love some," he replied.

"I'll distract them all," she said. "Use your Cloak."

And before he could say a word she had cried, "Oooh, look, a Blibbering Humdinger!" and pointed out of the window. Everyone who heard looked around, and Harry slid the Cloak up over himself, and got to his feet.

Now he could move through the Hall without interference. He spotted Ginny two tables away; she was sitting with her head on her mother's shoulder: There would be time to talk later, hours and days and maybe years in which to talk. He saw Neville, the sword of Gryffindor lying beside his plate as he ate, surrounded by a knot of fervent admirers. Along the aisle between the tables he walked, and he spotted the three Malfoys, huddled together as though unsure whether or not they were supposed to be there, but nobody was paying them any attention. Everywhere he looked he saw families reunited, and finally, he saw the person whose company he wanted most.

"It's me," he muttered, crouching down between them. "Will you come with me?"

They stood up at once, and together he and Draco left the Great Hall. Great chunks were missing from the marble staircase, part of the balustrade gone, and rubble and bloodstains occurred every few steps as they climbed.

Somewhere in the distance they could hear Peeves zooming through the corridors singing a victory song of his own composition:

"We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter's the one,

And Voldy's gone moldy, so now let's have fun!"

"Really gives a feeling for the scope and tragedy of the thing, doesn't it?" said Harry, pushing open a door to let Draco through.

Happiness would come, Harry thought, but at the moment it was muffled by exhaustion, and the pain of losing Lupin and Tonks pierced him like a physical wound every few steps. Most of all he felt the most stupendous relief, and a longing to sleep. But first he owed an explanation to Draco, and later on, Ron and Hermione, who had stuck with him for so long, and who deserved the truth. Painstakingly he recounted what he had seen in the Pensieve and what had happened in the forest, and he had not even begun to express all his shock and amazement when at last they arrived at the place to which they had been walking, though none of them had mentioned their destination.

Since he had last seen it, the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster's study had been knocked aside; it stood lopsided, looking a little punch-drunk, and Harry wondered whether it would be able to distinguish passwords anymore.

"Can we go up?" he asked the gargoyle.

"Feel free," groaned the statue.

They clambered over him and onto the spiral stone staircase that moved slowly upward like an escalator. Harry pushed open the door at the top.

He had one, brief glimpse of the stone Pensieve on the desk where he had left it, and then an ear splitting noise made him cry out, thinking of curses and returning Death Eaters and the rebirth of Voldemort -

But it was applause. All around the walls, the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts were giving him a standing ovation; they waved their hats and in some cases their wigs, they reached through their frames to grip each other's hands; they danced up and down on the chairs in which they had been painted; Dilys Derwent sobbed unashamedly; Dexter Fortescue was waving his ear-trumpet; and Phineas Nigellus called, in his high, reedy voice, "And let it be noted that Slytherin House played its part! Let our contribution not be forgotten!"

But Harry had eyes only for the man who stood in the largest portrait directly behind the headmaster's chair. Tears were sliding down from behind the half-moon spectacles into the long silver beard, and the pride and the gratitude emanating from him filled Harry with the same balm as phoenix song.

At last, Harry held up his hands, and the portraits fell respectfully silent, beaming and mopping their eyes and waiting eagerly for him to speak. He directed his words at Dumbledore, however, and chose them with enormous care. Exhausted and bleary-eyed though he was, he must make one last effort, seeking one last piece of advice.

"The thing that was hidden in the Snitch," he began, "I dropped it in the forest. I don't know exactly where, but I'm not going to go looking for it again. Do you agree?"

"My dear boy, I do," said Dumbledore, while his fellow pictures looked confused and curious. "A wise and courageous decision, but no less than I would have expected of you. Does anyone else know where it fell?"

"No one," said Harry, and Dumbledore nodded his satisfaction.

"I'm going to keep Ignotus's present, though," said Harry, and Dumbledore beamed.

"But of course, Harry, it is yours forever, until you pass it on!"

"And then there's this."

Harry held up the Elder Wand, and Draco looked at it with a hateful gaze.

"I don't want it," said Harry.

Draco was silent, mentally agreeing that it was for the best.

"I know it's powerful," said Harry wearily. "But I was happier with mine. So . . ."

He rummaged in the pouch hung around his neck, and pulled out the two halves of holly still just connected by the finest thread of phoenix feather. Hermione had said that they could not be repaired, that the damage was too severe. All he knew was that if this did not work, nothing would.

He laid the broken wand upon the headmaster's desk, touched it with the very tip of the Elder Wand, and said, "Reparo."

As his wand resealed, red sparks flew out of its end. Harry knew that he had succeeded. He picked up the holly and phoenix wand and felt a sudden warmth in his fingers, as though wand and hand were rejoicing at their reunion.

"I'm putting the Elder Wand," he told Dumbledore, who was watching him with enormous affection and admiration, "back where it came from. It can stay there. If I die a natural death like Ignotus, its power will be broken, won't it? The previous master will never have been defeated. That'll be the end of it."

Dumbledore nodded. They smiled at each other.

"I think that it is a good decision," murmured Draco.

"That wand's more trouble than it's worth," said Harry. "And quite honestly," he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime." Harry looked at Draco. "We should talk," said Draco. Harry nodded in agreement. "Let's talk out by the willow tree, near the Black Lake," said Harry. The boys walked out to the willow tree and sat under the breezy branches. "Harry," started Draco. "Where have you been for the past year?"

"I was with Dumbledore, hunting for a horcrux, when I was trapped in the cave that the horcrux resided in. I met someone who told me that I could choose to leave the cave and leave Dumbledore trapped there and save myself, or save Dumbledore and let myself stay trapped there forever. I chose to save Dumbledore." "You moron!" said Draco "What about your friends! What about me! You let yourself be trapped in that.....that place forever! You did it willingly! Harry, I....I can't lose you" whispered Draco. Draco's eyes watered and his body shook like a leaf. "Do you know what I felt when no one knew where you were? When you were declared missing? I felt like there was nothing left to live for. Harry.....I.....I don't want to lose you. I don't want to live without you" confessed Draco. "Draco-" started Harry. Draco had enough of it.

'I spent a year without you, Harry, so I'm going to make sure that Harry will be with me forever.' Draco leaned in close to Harry's face and kissed him. "Mnmh!" Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's neck as they continued to kiss. They broke apart soon after. Harry breathed heavily, head on Draco's shoulder. "Forever?" asked Harry, still breathing heavily. "Forever" promised Draco. That night, after the defeat of Voldemort, after the Battle of Hogwarts, sitting under the willow tree by the Black Lake, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy sat, curled against each other under a blanket as they slept. In the castle, Regulus was talking with Professor McGonagall, who was obviously shocked that her 'dead' student was alive.

The Weasley family were talking to their son after not seeing him for so long. (Ron never left Hermione while hunting for horcruxes) Hermione was with her friends from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, Luna and Neville were talking about their future, Lucius Malfoy was arrested and Narcissa Malfoy comforted her sister Andromeda about Tonks death and apologized for her past actions. The endless fear had finally lifted and all of the dead, Remus, Tonks, James Potter, Lily Evans, Severus Snape, Sirius Black were finally at peace now that Voldemort was dead. Everyone was happy.

21 Years After The Battle Of Hogwarts

"Are you excited Severus?" asked 36 year old Harry. Harry's youngest child, Severus Sirius, was starting his first year at Hogwarts. "Of course dad! After all, it is my first year and I'll be able to join Rosaleen and Hugo" said Severus. Harry laughed at Severus's enthusiasm. "Oh? Do tell what is so funny" said Draco sneaking up behind Harry and giving him a hug. Harry turned around and faced Draco. "I was laughing at Severus's enthusiasm for Hogwarts," said Harry, giving his husband a kiss. "Father!" said Severus "You made it!"

Draco smiled and patted Severus's head. "Of course I made it, I would never miss seeing you on the Hogwarts Express in your first year." "Draco" said Harry "I am curious, I thought that you had an important patient to attend to today?" "Yes, but Hannah took care of it." "Hannah? As in Hannah Abbott, one of the Hufflepuffs in our year?" asked Harry. Draco nodded. "She married Susan Bones, I think," said Harry. "She did. They adopted a boy, Cholin." Severus smiled at his parents talking about their school days. "Dad? Father? When did you start dating?" Harry blushed bright red while Draco laughed. "We became friends in 4th year and started dating in 5th year" said Draco.

"How we started dating was so embarrassing!" said Harry covering up his bright red face. Severus's eyes sparkled. "Tell me!" "No!" exclaimed Harry. "Some other time Severus, when you're older" said Draco, mouth twitching in amusement. Severus frowned in disappointment but quickly brightened up again. The train whistled, signaling that it was time for everyone to board the train. Severus grabbed his trunk and entered the train. "Bye Severus!" shouted Harry waving at his son. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry. "The last one" murmured Harry as they watched the train leave. "Maybe we should try for 3" whispered Draco in Harry's ears. Harry's face burned. "Of course Draco. Maybe should try for 4~" Draco blushed at Harry's words.

"Oh? Is the mighty dragon nervous?" asked Harry slyly. "But surely you've faced many more fierce and hot dragons" murmured Draco. "You mean the dragons that I work with at the sanctuary in Romania? They don't hold a candle to you" said Harry. "I'm flattered," said Draco, "I must be more handsome then those dragons at the sanctuary." Harry laughed, his voice gentle and bright. "I married you! Even if the dragons I work with were as handsome as you, I'd still marry you!" Draco smiled. "Let's go home Harry" said Draco offering his arm to his husband. Harry took Draco's arm and as they were about to disapparate, Draco asked Harry "By the way, how is Regulus and his husband?" Harry laughed saying, "They're doing fine."

The End