Severus Snape Apparated as far up the path leading from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts that he could possibly chance without crashing into the non-Apparition wards. In his arms he carried the life-less body of a small Muggle-clad boy, maybe six or seven years old. He swore to himself over the steep rise of the path and shot a glance over his shoulder as he ran the remaining distance up to the gates. Breathlessly he mumbled a pass word and the gates swung open. Rushing inside, Snape turned quickly and waved his wand in his right hand, wedged under the hollow of the child’s knees, which made the movement difficult and he had to repeat it for effect before the gates finally shut. It was in the nick of time, because at the other side, another wizard had appeared on the path, wand brandished, teeth bared. 

”Lucius,” panted Snape, clutching the child’s body closer to his chest.

”What do you think you’re doing, Severus? I saw you by the church. You should not have been there. And why are you dressed like… that?” Lucius Malfoy gestured with disgust at Snape’s Muggle attire. As Lucius spoke, Snape tried to get a better hold of the limp body of the child.

”Don’t tell him, Lucius. Don’t bring Voldemort to Hogwarts. Your son is here. You don’t want a battle on this ground,” launched Snape as he turned around and started to run towards the castle.

”Stop, you traitor, and explain to me what’s going on!” shouted Malfoy. ”Who’s that boy?”

Snape ran, heedless of Lucius Malfoy’s verbal curses, towards the castle that was no more than a giant black shadow against the bright midday sun light. He had thought earlier that he perceived a faint heartbeat under the child’s sweatshirt, but he was no longer sure he could feel it.

Minerva McGonagall was standing in the Entrance Hall, ushering pupils into the Great Hall for lunch. It was the Easter holidays and the amount of pupils were slightly reduced. McGonagall was just about to shut the portal between the halls behind the last pupils and herself when the entrance door was thrown open and a tall Muggle, panting and damp with sweat on his forehead stumbled inside with a child in his arms and sank down on his knees. 

The teacher froze and stared at the unexpected sight. Behind her back the pupils rose at their tables to peak over her shoulders at the scene in the Entrance Hall. The headmaster was away since the morning. The Carrows, together with a couple of young Death Eaters among the students, had been summoned an hour ago and left with solemn and self-important smirks on their faces, so McGonagall feared no immediate reprisals, but this Muggle father and his son just could not be allowed inside. It was too dangerous. How was it only possible that they had entered the grounds at all? she wondered. And why? McGonagall moved towards them when the man, whose head had been bent over the boy, straightened up. The long black hair parted to the sides and a pair of unmistakable black eyes met hers. Minerva McGonagall recoiled in shock.

”Minerva, help me get him to Poppy, at once. I think he’s alive. It’s Harry Potter. He needs help. Now!” Snape elevated his voice as Minerva McGonagall made no move. There was so much desperation in Snape’s eyes and such imperativeness in his voice that at last she reacted by sorting her wand and levitating the boy from Snape’s trembling arms without a word. 

Snape pushed himself up on swaying legs, stared at the assembled pupils inside the Great Hall, waved his wand at himself to transform back to wizard clothing and opened his mouth to speak. 

”The end of the war is near. This might be the final battle. You must evacuate from here in due order, without panic.” Snape’s gaze was so wild and intent that no one dared open their mouth to question him. ”Flitwick, Hooch, Vector! Go strengthen the protection shields around the castle. Hagrid, Slughorn! Organise a retreat of all underage children.” The orders whipped out of Snape’s mouth. ”You others,” Snape’s gaze bore into the older students. ”It is time to make a decision -  you may stay and fight against the Dark Lord, or go with your younger siblings and keep out of the way. I don’t recommend joining Voldemort at this stage of the proceedings, but if you want to be foolish, I guess I cannot do anything about it,” sneered Snape, sounding more like himself. 

The familiar irony of the headmaster seemed to lift a petrification spell off the crowd and they started to move. The eyes of Hagrid were glittering. 

”We’re going to fight ’im at last, that foul creature” he exclaimed. ”And Snape is with us, I knew it! No one’s goin’ to get hurt. Now let’s get you youngsters out of the way. Follow me!”

Snape’s eyes moved from one teacher to another, who solemnly confirmed their understanding of the situation by nodding or lifting a hand. Snape swirled around and parted for the Hospital wing with his black coat billowing after him, all determined wizard, no trace of the shattered Muggle figure left in him.

Entering the ward at the Hospital Wing, Snape’s countenance changed once again as he caught sight of a very young Harry Potter sitting on a bed with green eyes wide open.  

”Harry!” croaked Snape and threw himself at the boy’s side, ignoring the two witches by the bed.

”Severus,” the child sighed and put his arms around Snape’s neck without reservation. The man and the child sobbed and laughed in turns as they hugged and spoke, to Minerva McGonagall’s and Mme Pomfrey’s ears, incomprehensible words. 

”We made it… It’s gone. He’s gone. I can feel it. Or rather I don’t feel him, at all. He’s not dead is he?”

”I’m afraid not. But it affected him. He fell to the ground. I saw him stir, though, and rise among his Death Eaters before I Apparated away with you.”

”I met him, Severus, I met Dumbledore, on the other side… His spirit or something…”

”You were at the other side, then… I was not sure whether you were alive or dead…”

”He let me choose… I wanted to come back at your side…”

”So close… so dreadfully close…”

”We knew it would be close… or definitive”

”You’ll kill me one day, Harry… You’ll give me a heart attack and kill me… This was just dreadful…”

”We made it… I survived… I survived Severus, just as you said… Thank you…”

”I wasn’t sure… But what about the horcruxes? Did it work?”

Harry drew back from Snape and started to fumble with small hands in the folds of the blanket. Mme Pomfrey intervened. 

”It was the first thing the child started to do, when he came to his senses,” she said disapprovingly. ”Started to check those objects that were hidden in his pockets, with complicated detection spells.” 

”We only deaged his body, Poppy,” Snape said distractedly as he, in turn, examined the cup and the diadem that Harry handed him. ”He’s in his full-grown mental capacity and in possession of his entire magical powers. We’ll switch him back soon. Just let me check…”

”They are inert, Severus! It worked!” exclaimed Harry. Snape and he looked at each other. It seemed like they had played a very dangerous game and won. 

During all their meetings that had taken place in the same glade as the first one, during several nights the last months, Snape and Harry had turned and twisted the problem of the horcruxes in every possible way. They had come to the conclusion that if losing them one by one, Voldemort risked to become aware, at one point or other, of their destruction. Therefore they had concluded that they should start with Nagini as she was the most difficult to approach if Voldemort decided to protect her.

Snape had chosen one of the most evil and brutal Death Eaters and met with him just before a reunion with Voldemort. He had Confounded the wizard and provided him with a Goblin-made silver knife that they had imbibed with basilisk venom. Finally Snape had Imperiused the man to do the attack on Nagini. Voldemort had been taken by surprise and lost his snake. Snape had counted on Voldemort’s blind rage to kill the Death Eater straight away, not taking his time to interrogate the offender, thus preventing Snape’s own involvement from being discovered. 

Harry had waited that night, by the lake, in the dark, without a fire, crouching by the edge of the water and staring at the reflection of his own face in the moonlight. He experienced Voldemort’s roaring anger over the loss of Nagini with the usual visions and blitzing headache. By the time he heard the crack of Snape’s Apparition, he was stiff with cold and almost unconscious with pain, but not until then could he draw a breath of relief. That night, he had staggered up to Snape and hugged him silently. 

Then Harry and his friends had been captured and brought to Malfoy Manor. Their near escape had mercifully not reached Snape’s ears before it was all done and over with, because it might have caused him that heart attack that he was expecting any day. The adventure had taught Harry that one of the remaining horcruxes was probably locked inside Bellatrix Lestrange’s vault at Gringotts. Using polyjuice, Harry had accompanied Snape, who had access to the vault under pretext of checking the authenticity of the sword of Gryffindor on Bellatrix’ behalf, and had managed to detect and retrieve the cup without being uncovered.

Hermione had brought Harry’s attention to the story of Rowena Ravenclaw and her diadem, mentioned in ”Hogwarts, a history of time”. Both Harry and Snape thought it fitted perfectly as Voldemort’s last horcrux. Snape had made discreet inquiries into the matter, speaking to the ghosts at Hogwarts - Binns first and then Helena, the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw. Snape and Harry had reasoned their way to the diadem’s present location and finally, one night, Snape had uneventfully retrieved the diadem from the Room of Requirements. 

Now that they were in possession of all the remaining horcruxes, the question posed itself how to destroy them. By this time, Harry had started to be affected by strange fits of chills where he would shake with cold and chatter his teeth for hours. Ron and Hermione were worried about him, but Harry still did not tell them about his fate. Snape, who was the only one who knew Harry’s terrible secret, spent much time pondering over the piece of soul attached to Harry’s mind and one day he came up with a reason for hope. 

”Voldemort used your blood when he recreated his body,” Snape had said to Harry. ”Moreover that blood contained your mother’s protection installed in you when she gave her life for you.” 

When Snape uttered those words he had closed his eyes and the small muscles around his mouth had twitched imperceptibly. Harry had sighed deeply in response. The murder of Lily Evans so many years ago was apparently still an open wound for Snape, even more so than for Harry. 

”The sacrifice of your mother and the theft of blood will make it very difficult for Voldemort to kill you, if I understand the rules of Ancient Magic correctly. With a bit of luck, he’ll blast the horcrux out of you, but you yourself will stay intact,” insisted Snape. He had even coaxed the portrait of Dumbledore into admitting that the former headmaster had considered the same possibility. 

Harry doubted the theory, not wanting to get his hopes raised, needing to prepare for the worst. He wished his death to be as anonymous as possible. Both Snape and he wanted to avoid collateral damage. They had thought of a way to have all the three remaining horcruxes destroyed at the same time.

Snape remembered, from Voldemort’s first reign twenty years ago, that the Dark Lord, on the Good Friday of Easter, always used to attack Muggles attending church, on their way back from service. There were good chances of his reinstating that tradition now that he was back in power. Moreover, Snape knew that Voldemort never failed to aim at small boys. He seemed not to be able to stand the sight of them. 

Maybe, Harry had supplied as line of explanation, it had something to do with Voldemort’s own childhood spent in a Muggle orphanage. Supposedly the orphanage had attended church on Good Friday, supposedly Voldemort could not stand the sight of small children who reminded him of a time when he had felt grief, humiliation and maybe an impossible longing for something he could not have. Supposedly Voldemort had decided after the critical age of six or seven, to shut off all painful emotions and entered the dark path of evilness and destruction instead.

Thus the deaging of Harry. Thus placing Harry and Snape on this Good Friday of Easter 1998, disguised as a Muggle father and his son, at a square in front of a church in London, where Snape’s collected intelligence had told them the attack would take place. And it certainly did  - the attack had been extremely violent - a carnage of Muggles. The last one, Snape had thought grimly as he forced himself to hold back from protecting the falling innocent men and women. Harry and he had one important mission to focus on and could not risk betraying themselves by starting to fight the Death Eaters. They had sought Voldemort up. Voldemort had aimed a terrific Avada Kedavra at Harry the moment Harry deliberately stepped in the dark wizard’s way. Their plan had worked out perfectly, except for Lucius Malfoy who had recognised Snape.

”Minerva,” Snape turned to Professor McGonagall. ”I need you to contact the Order.” He turned back to Harry. ”I’m sorry, Harry, we failed our plan not to attract attention to ourselves and I’m afraid Voldemort will attack us here at Hogwarts. It’s not your fault, but mine. I don’t think Voldemort recognised you in your deaged state. He didn’t look too closely, but stroke blindly. Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand, saw me when I lifted you up. He followed me and will tell Voldemort, who will figure it all out.” Snape turned back to McGonagall. ”Do you trust me, Minerva?”

McGonagall cleared her voice. 

”All these past months, Poppy here has tried to convince me that the damage to Albus’ hand was fatal and that your curse made no big difference to his expected lifetime, but I would not listen to her,” she said.  

Snape shot a surprised and appreciative glance at Mme Pomfrey who smirked back at him. 

”I cannot ignore what Harry told us when he woke up, though, and I believe him. You are a far too good Occlumens to be trusted at all, I’m sorry Severus.” Minerva McGonagall drew a shaky breath. ”I’m so mad at you!” she exploded. ”To let me believe the worst of you like that, all those months! It was not only the loss of Albus that plagued me. I liked you, despite your horrible manners! You broke my heart, pretending to be that evil - really! Heavens! I’m sorry.” McGonagall dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. 

Snape looked penitent, like a berated schoolboy. 

”How did you know I have stayed in contact with the Order?” the old Transfiguration teacher suddenly added, horrified. Snape smiled knowingly. 

”I’m well aware of the fact that the beautiful new piece of furniture in your office is indeed a transfigured floo-entrance,” he said. McGonagall looked shattered.

”Tell the Order that Harry Potter has once again survived an Avada Kedavra by Voldemort’s wand and by doing so thwarted the Dark Lord’s arrangements for immortality.” Snape spoke gravely. ”Voldemort and his Death Eaters will attack Hogwarts today. The war is nearing its end. This might be the final battle coming up. All and one might aim at Voldemort, we need to take him out now and it is not necessarily for Harry to do so.” 

McGonagall nodded and started to leave.

”Wait, Minerva. Where is Draco Malfoy? I didn’t see him downstairs?” asked Snape.

”The Carrows were called away a couple of hours ago. They brought all the Death Eater fledglings with them,” McGonagall answered drily before she left the room. Snape’s eyes widened.

”They profited from my absence,” he growled. ”The youngsters were not supposed to participate in anything as long as they attended Hogwarts.”

”I’m sorry, Severus,” said Harry. ”I saw Draco at the square, Cruciating a…. Cuciating people…” Draco had been Cruciating a young woman in front of the church, but Harry wanted to spare Snape the details. 

Harry knew how much agony Snape had suffered over deciding whether or not to tell the young Malfoy of his loyalties and try to win Draco over to their side. Snape desperately wished to save his godson from fully acting out as a Death Eater. Becoming one of the Dark Lord’s servants was a tradition that had been mercilessly inflicted upon the young aristocrat without him having a say, according to Snape.

The reformed Death Eater was blaming himself, realised Harry, because Snape had in the end decided that he could not risk betraying their plans and therefore had not spoken to Draco. Harry felt a twinge of bad conscience as he had more or less openly discouraged Snape from taking the step. Harry’s previous dealings with Malfoy told him that the young man was not to be trusted. To Harry it did not matter if Draco was a reliability because of evilness or because of the inability to resist the pressure of others. It amounted to the same in Harry’s mind.

Snape’s head was abashedly lowered. Harry did not know what to say. 

”We’d better get you back to normal age, Harry,” Snape finally muttered. ”But I’d rather you stayed here during the battle. You’ve done your part already and need to recuperate. Are you…? Is he fit to endure some magic, Poppy?” asked Snape. Harry glowered at him and jumped up from the bed before the medi-witch had time to answer. The young Harry was less than half Snape’s height.

”I’m just fine!” The green eyes flashed with indignation and the small hands were clenched into fists. ”You can’t imagine that I would stay here in bed at the hospital wing while all my friends and people I care about fight Voldemort and his Death Eaters?” Harry spat. ”Turn my age back right now, Severus!”

After glowering back, Snape stood up and lifted his wand. A long incantation later, Harry had grown to nearly match Snape’s full height and reclaimed his seventeen year old body. 

”Seriously, Harry, you’ve suffered a killing curse, carrying two… three… horcruxes on your body and you’ve gone through a deaging process, are you sure you’re fit…?” pleaded Snape a last time.

”I’m perfectly fine,” said Harry firmly. ”I’m still a bit chilled, but otherwise I’m well. It’s a relief not to feel Voldemort in my head.”

”You’ve lived at death’s side for a considerable time - it will take you long to recover completely. Really, Harry, you have nothing more to prove,” said Snape. ”The remaining battle does not require you, specifically, to take part.” The recent memory of the small child stepping into Voldemort’s field of vision, making the ultimate sacrifice, played itself with terrifying clarity in Snape’s mind. He could nearly not conceive of the bravery Harry had shown.

”You forget the wand, Severus,” said Harry. ”I think it must be me, after all.”

”The wand?” Snape frowned. He knew that Harry had spent much time thinking about the special wand that Voldemort had chased around the world the last few months. Snape had been too occupied with the horcruxes to give it much consideration though. 

”I’ll explain later. We’d better go and prepare,” said Harry.

Suddenly Snape stifled a cry of pain and grasped his left arm.

”Voldemort is summoning me. He wants to check out Lucius’ story, no doubt. What if I were to go to him? Delay things a bit for you and leave you time to prepare? Maybe I could find a way to get Draco out of there…” said Snape.

”Are you out of your mind?” Harry stepped close up to Snape and grabbed him by the arm as if to prevent him from disappearing. ”Your cover is blown, don’t you realise? Voldemort has no reason to doubt Lucius. They’ll have figured out the child was me. You must stay here and fight with us.” 

Snape still hesitated. 

”Come on, Severus! There’s no time for such deliberations! It’s time to fight!” shouted Harry, because at the same time they felt a trembling in the magical wards and a dull rumble. ”They are trying to get inside. Let’s go!”

Afterwards, Harry could not explain exactly how everything had organised itself during the battle, but suddenly the entire Order was there. It took surprisingly little time to convince them of Snape’s true loyalty. Harry said a few determined words to Remus Lupin, and that was enough. Minerva McGonagall had probably already convinced the others. Ron and Hermione turned up by Portkey from their hiding place and the major part of the seventeen year old students had decided to stay and fight. The former members of Dumbledore’s Army closed up around Harry, and even the Aurors in the Order formed around Snape, ready to place themselves under his command. 

Harry and Snape communicated with monosyllables but understood each other perfectly and led their respective groups to hide at the border of the forest. In that way, when the Death Eaters finally broke through the protective wards and ran towards the castle, which was now empty and sealed, the Order ambushed them. Several Death Eaters were out before the fight had even started, but Voldemort was not yet with them. 

The Order fought organised to begin with, cursing in concert with each other, creating walls of magic that forced the dark side down to the lake. Neither Harry, nor Snape, ordered to kill, but they disarmed, incapacitated and imprisoned an increasing number of Death Eaters.

All of a sudden, however, dark clouds shifted in the sky before the sinking sun and everyone’s ears were filled with shrieking cries that pierced the marrow. Thousands of Dementors were approaching from above. They dove over the lake and approached the combatants on the shore with wide open mouths. The Death Eaters put on their masks which seemed to convey immunity to the soul-sucking effect of the dreadful creatures. 

Among those fighting for the Order, the Dementor attack caused a panicky and disorganised retreat with a few Patronuses in the air. At the border of the forest, Snape and Harry managed to halt and reassemble their people. First, the strong Patronuses of Snape and Harry - a stag and a doe side by side - managed to arrest the advance of the Dementors and when joined by others, they created a stable wall of silvery mist, hard for the Dementors to penetrate. The question was - how long could they hold it? 

Harry and Snape stood back to back. Harry was petrified with cold and the warmth from Snape’s body was the only thing that prevented him from collapsing. A Patronus was usually enough to shield him from the Dementors, but this time they were making these horrible noises that Harry had never heard before.

”Harry, let go of your Patronus. The others will hold. We need something more. Visualise the black coats tearing apart. Visualise their disintegration,” cried Snape. 

Harry understood precisely what Snape meant. This was not a spell they’d learned, this was magical improvisation, but it worked to great effect. The shrieking sounds of the Dementors turned plaintive almost at once, when Snape and Harry started their joint visualisation. The frightening sounds subsided to short, shrill yelps, like the warning cries of predatory birds, and suddenly the Dementors were gone.

The Order had barely time to recover before the air crackled with wave after wave of magic, emanating from a point by the lake where they had left the Death Eaters. 

”Voldemort,” panted Harry. 

”His powers are intact,” said Snape between clenched teeth. 

”He is mortal now,” Harry pointed out. Determination and a streak of madness passed over Snape’s face.

”It is now or never!” he roared. ”Let’s finish him! Attack! Now!” 

The Aurors were with him at once and so was Harry. The others followed after only a slight hesitation. 

The subsequent fight was more disorganised than before, everyone choosing their opponent and duelling - duelling for life or death. Voldemort had summoned every evil creature out of the Forbidden Forest to join him and the dark side had augmented in number. More Death Eaters had joined. Harry spotted Draco at his parents’ side. Draco’s friends, Crabbe and Goyle tried to incite Draco to move into the heat of the battle, but Draco held back. It seemed to Harry that the Malfoy family tried to keep in the periphery of the battle, engaging in as little as possible.

If half of the creatures in the Forest obeyed Voldemort, the other half was on Hagrid’s side. The fight turned fouler and fouler. Creatures were ripping each other by the throats, splashing the fighting wizards at their sides with blood, having them slip in disemboweled viscera on the ground. Snape fought like a dragon. His curses were strong, with sometimes an edge of Dark art to them. He was sure at aim and took out more Death Eaters than the aurors, fighting his way determinately toward Voldemort. 

Harry held a different approach. He kept by Snape’s side, but played defensive, looking out for his fellow combatants. His shields were solid and repelling, not only protecting but sometimes backfiring on the attacker. He too needed to get closer to Voldemort. 

Just for at short while, the fight stood out like a scene staged only for the purpose of showing off their skills, a dance of power and Harry was almost enjoying himself. Afterwards, it was this part that would play itself over and over in his mind, this jubilant feeling of success, of force. This was what he would feel most guilty about. Did he delay the advance towards Voldemort just because it felt good to fight? Could he have ended it sooner? 

It was true that at Snape’s side Harry felt invincible, and rejoiced in the feeling, if only for a short while, until he sensed someone fall to the ground right behind him and heard Molly Weasley’s cry of anguish as she threw herself at her son’s side. The curse that hit Fred Weasley had travelled from far, past Harry’s shields. When Harry lifted his gaze he distinguished a pair of red eyes fifty yards away. Voldemort. The curse had been meant for him. The realisation stabbed Harry like a sword in the chest. He reeled before he gripped his wand harder and advanced. 

The fight resumed with renewed violence. There was no more satisfaction in the strikes, only controlled desperation. Snape had started to aim curses at Voldemort who returned them with sneering disdain. But Harry threw shields in front of Snape that made Voldemort’s curses fall to the ground and Harry could see that it puzzled and infuriated the dark wizard.

As soon as Voldemort decided to start using Avada Kedavras they would be chance-less though.

”Do you want to know why that wand doesn’t work for you?” Harry launched defiantly at Voldemort.  

Voldemort turned his snake-like face toward Harry. They started to circle each other, eyes locked. It was the first time that Harry could endure Voldemort’s presence without feeling any pain. On the contrary, he felt strangely clear-headed. 

”I think I have an idea,” Voldemort said cooly. ”Do you know what this wand is?”

”It’s a wand that you have stolen,” said Harry, ”… from the dead. You shouldn’t have. You should have let Dumbledore rest in peace.”

Voldemort laughed a crazy laugh as if what Harry said amused him tremendously.

”So young, so naive… Potter. If you knew the number of times I have stolen from the dead… If it’s only that… There is no divine justice, I’m afraid, only the justice you dictate yourself… if you’re as powerful as I am, that is,” he said grandiloquently.

”It’s not only that,” said Harry calmly. ”It’s different with wands, they have inherent magic. The Elder Wand doesn’t answer to you, because it does not recognise you as its owner. It’s not yours. You did not vanquish Dumbledore.”

”I know that, Potter!” Voldemort’s red eyes flashed. ”Why do you think I’ve been aiming at that traitor?” He turned to point at Snape. ”Severus Snape, you betrayed me, how dare you?” Voldemort raised his wand again. 

”Severus did not disarm Dumbledore,” Harry cried out. ”He had nothing to do with…” An eager voice interrupted him. It was Lucius Malfoy who had found his way up to Voldemort. His wife, Narcissa, and Draco were in his wake. 

”You should kill him nonetheless, my Lord,” said the older Malfoy in an ingratiating voice. ”Without my observation, Snape would still be playing his falsehood at your side. Maybe his plan was to steal that wand and kill you.” 

Lucius Malfoy clearly seemed to think that he could gain something from Voldemort by pointing out his part in unmasking Snape. He obviously did not realise the danger, thought Harry, in bringing Draco before the eyes of the Dark Lord. Around them, the fighting wizards and witches had arrested themselves to observe the scene in their midst. Only in the periphery did some magical creatures still wrestle each other. 

”Severus did not vanquish Dumbledore as Dumbledore had asked him to end his life should a situation like the one in the tower appear,” said Harry. ”Dumbledore was already doomed. You’ll be happy to hear that the Elder Wand probably answers to no one… or in case it does, it probably answers to me, as I vanquished the person who disarmed Dumbledore, namely Draco Malfoy. Why don’t you try me?” Harry said daringly and took a step forward. 

Snape let out a muffled sound and gripped Harry’s sleeve. Harry disengaged without looking backwards.

”I’ll take no chances this time, Potter,” said Voldemort and narrowed his already slit-shaped eyes. ”When I aim an Avada Kedavra at you the next time, it will be with this superior wand that will surrender to my powers. One of them stand in the way - I don’t care who - they’ll both go!” His red eyes jumped from Snape to Draco Malfoy. 

Draco’s father, who knew perfectly well what had passed in that tower a year ago when Dumbledore was killed and who had previously exaggerated Draco’s part in the act in order to disguise his son’s failure at the time, only just realised what his Dark Lord had in mind and fell to his knees to beg.

”No, no, my Lord. Draco has nothing to do with that wand. He didn’t do anything in that tower. It was Severus… It was Severus who did it all,” pleaded Lucius Malfoy. Narcissa Malfoy joined her husband on her knees.

”We’ve been loyal servants to you, my Lord. We’ve let you use Malfoy Manor as your own house. Don’t punish Draco,” she said. 

”It’s not a punishment, stupid woman,” sneered Voldemort. ”It’s a necessity!” 

The moment Voldemort raised his wand, Harry knew that he needed to make a choice. He did not know who Voldemort would strike first, Snape or Draco, but he could not protect them both and instinctively he knew that, this time, it was an Avada Kedavra coming out of that wand and regardless of whether the wand recognised Voldemort or not, Voldemort’s magic was strong enough to force its way through the wand and kill anyone but Harry. 

Snape was on his left side, Draco a bit father away to the right. At the moment the green light left Voldemort’s wand, Harry visualised Snape prone on the ground and rolling to the side - and that was exactly what happened. The killing curse passed over Snape’s body and hit the ground. Harry launched himself in the line of fire in case Voldemort would take a new shot at Snape. 

But Voldemort turned to his left and aimed at Draco Malfoy who screamed. Harry had just time to turn around and watch Lucius Malfoy rise from his crouched position and throw himself in front of Draco. Harry could not say who of the two was hit, because both wizards fell to the ground. The piercing cry of Narcissa Malfoy was joined by a shocked moan behind Harry. 

Things had once again moved too fast for Harry to handle. Sick of the sight of Lucius and Draco Malfoy on the ground with the dishevelled mother crying out her pain, sick of Voldemort who would not listen to reason and sick of himself for delaying what he should have done from the beginning, Harry lifted his wand. He did not know what the consequences of his act would be, he only knew he could no longer delay his fate. 

”Avada Kedavra!” he cried.

”Avada Kedavra!” shouted Voldemort, aiming at Snape who was moving towards Draco’s body. But the curse never left Voldemort’s wand as Harry’s hit him first and Voldemort fell to the ground.