When the pulling stopped, Harry was staring up at Hogwarts, telling him what part of his hidden pain this was. This was the pain the wizarding world had caused him when it was supposed to be his place to belong, his home. This was the world where he’d been so hurt, but forced to carry on through his pain and trauma and loss as though it hadn’t happened or hadn’t affected him. He knew instantly who would be there, representing that pain, before even spotting the two figures standing by the tree at the edge of the Black Lake. His eyes immediately teared up as he gazed at the backs of Cedric and Sirius.

Blinking back the tears and sighing, Harry crossed the grounds to his greatest losses since he was a year old. They turned to him as he grew close and his breathing hitched at their smiles.

“Hi, Harry,” Cedric said.

“Hey, kid,” Sirius said. “I think it’s time we talked, yeah?”

Harry knew he should say yes, that he should work through this the way he did his childhood trauma, but staring at them, he couldn’t. He shook his head, tears falling down his cheeks again as his heart tried to beat out of his chest. He closed his eyes and focused on escaping, feeling himself fly through his mind, back to his deep center of engrained pain. He drew in a shuddering sob and opened his eyes again, staring at the pulsing blue light. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to face that pain.

“That’s it, I’m ending this,” Severus said.

“No!” Harry said, unintentionally loudly. He swiped at the tears on his face. “No, I’m okay.”

“You are not. You are clearly hurt,” Severus protested.

“Not physically,” Harry said. “It’s just memories. I’m fine. I have to do this.”

He was sure he could feel his father’s worry and disapproval.

“Very well,” Severus said. “We do not have much time left.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Harry said, looking at the red light he now knew was his scar. He took a deep breath and touched the light, allowing himself to be pulled to where Dumbledore had embedded himself fifteen years earlier.

This part of himself, part of his pain, was completely different to the others he had just experienced. Rather than facing himself or those he’d lost, he was in a web of hard, sharp magic. The space was black and seemingly infinite, no ends in sight. In front of him was a huge ball of jagged, red threads twisted tightly together with strings like bolts of electricity weaving around like a violent spiderweb. The core pulsed every few seconds, sending waves through the web and pain through him as they circled him.

He gasped at the pain, shaking and holding back whimpers as long as possible as the pulsating agony gave him no reprieve. The pain compounded, becoming worse and worse as the jagged ball throbbed harder, until he was sent to his knees with a whimper.

“Dad…” he moaned. “Dad, it…it hurts.”

He gazed around at the web that was Dumbledore’s magic deep inside him, woven into his very being. He’d known for months now, but to see it, to see how much of a hold Dumbledore had on him, the depth of the man’s control…it was sickening. The magic reverberated around him, making him cry out as it felt like the Cruciatus tore through his body over and over again.

“Dad!” he cried out as loudly as possible, which wasn’t very as the pain continued to steal his breath.

He wanted out, he wanted it to stop, he wanted there to be an end. He didn’t want there to be any more pain; there’d been too much. He just wanted peace. He just wanted his father, the love and safety he brought.

“Dad!” he yelled desperately.

He sucked in a harsh breath as he rose up out of himself, his eyes popping open. He flew up on the sofa, gasping for air and shuddering as it felt like the pain was still echoing in his body. Tears poured down his face. He flinched as hands grasped his upper arms, but they refused to let him go.

“Harry, look at me!”

Harry’s eyes flew to Severus’ directly in front of him, dark depths filled with worry. Harry’s hands came up to tightly grip Severus’ arms before he fell forward, his forehead coming to rest on the man’s chest. He sobbed as his father’s hands left his arms to rest between his shoulder blades and the back of his head. Harry’s own hands tangled themselves in Severus’ shirt as he fought to control his heaving sobs.

“Harry?” Severus said quietly.

“I found it,” Harry whispered, his voice cracking. “I found my scar…Dumbledore. It hurt…so much.”

“Oh, child,” Severus murmured, holding him closer.

“It’s strong,” Harry said. “His magic. I don’t know if I can break it.”

“I have faith in you,” Severus said softly. “We’ll make a plan and I know you’ll succeed. You must. We cannot allow him to keep this hold on you any longer.”

Harry nodded against his father’s chest. He didn’t have hope, but others had it for him, just as the Founders had told him those few weeks ago when Robert and Daphne died.

“So, will it work?” Draco asked, rearranging the cards in his hands. “Dream Chasing for your scar?”

“Dad thinks it will,” Harry said, placing a card on the pile and drawing another from the deck.

“You don’t?” Draco said, sounding surprised. Not unexpected since Dream Chasing had been Harry’s idea in the first place.

Harry sighed, picking up the card Draco had put down. “Not now I’ve seen it. It—he—has been there literally my whole life. It’s impossible to see where he ends and I begin, if he ends at all.”

“Harry, you’re still you,” Draco said, lowering his cards to look across the sofa at Harry. “That, what you found, is just magic and all magic can be changed or broken. Didn’t Tom say that?”

“Actually, he said all magic can be controlled and manipulated,” Harry said, grinning at Draco’s eyeroll over his cards.

“Whatever,” Draco grumbled. “My point still stands. It’s just magic.”

“That may be true, but he’s way more powerful than me,” Harry said, putting down a card.

“True, but that doesn’t mean you’re helpless,” Draco said, dropping and drawing cards of his own. “Just think about everything you’ve managed to do. He planned the situations, but he didn’t really do anything to make sure you survived. You did all of that on your own.”

“I had help with everything,” Harry said.

“Until the end when you were always left alone to fight,” Draco said pointedly.

Harry shook his head, sighing again. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know how to get rid of him.”

“What did it look like again?” Draco asked.

“A web with a huge ball in the center,” Harry said. “Some deep irony or metaphor, I’m sure.”

Draco snorted, picking up Harry’s dropped card. “Well, maybe you have to use him against himself.”

“What does that even mean?” Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

“Bloody hell, I don’t know,” Draco said with a small huff.

Harry chuckled, drawing a card. He glanced at the coffee table as he waited for Draco to take his turn and realized a new sentence had appeared in Tom’s communication journal. He’d brought basically everything into the Founders’ Library as it was where he was spending nearly all of his time these days. He reached over and dragged the journal to the edge so he could read the message.

Final horcrux retrieved. Any ideas for Slytherin’s sword?

Harry snatched up a quill and scratched a short reply.

No, but haven’t brainstormed much.

Understandable. Current plans take precedent.

Agreed.

Stay safe.

Harry dropped the quill and returned to his curled-up position, sideways on the sofa and leaning against the back. He quickly dropped a card.

“Tom has all his horcruxes,” Harry said. “I have to get the hourglass so he doesn’t lose all his magic.”

“You will, but you have to get Dumbledore out of your head first,” Draco said.

“I know, I know,” Harry said, letting out a heavy breath. “Let’s just talk about something else.”

“Okay,” Draco said. “What do you want to do when this is all over?”

Harry drew a card from the deck and rearranged his hand. “What do you mean?”

“Well, there won’t be any prophecy or dark lord or evil headmaster. You know the truth, remember everything,” Draco said, picking up Harry’s dropped card. “What do you want now?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at his cards, considering Draco’s question. What did he want? What could his life be without everything that had haunted him since before he was born? He frowned and looked across at Draco as he put a card down and drew another. He watched Draco do the same, clearly waiting for his response.

“This,” Harry said and Draco looked at him. “You and Dad, just…living. I want to be able to choose, to have a choice.”

Draco nodded in understanding.

“I know the first choice I want to make,” Harry said and Draco looked at him curiously. “Let’s give Dad something. He’s done so much for us. I think we should show him what we want.”

“Are you talking about…?” Draco trailed off.

Harry nodded with a smile. “When it’s all over, we’ll give it to him, prove he is what we want and he’s given us everything.”

Draco smiled back. “Sounds like a plan.”

Harry blew out an anxious breath as he stared at the pulsing red orb. This was his last chance to break Dumbledore’s connection in his scar. It was the final day of Spring Break and Severus would be unable to disappear to the Chamber for extended periods. Harry was nervous. He’d already failed twice. The pain was just so excruciating and Dumbledore’s magic deep. He had to succeed this time or nothing else they had planned would work for Dumbledore would just drain his magic.

So, there he stood, just staring, as he tried to figure out what to do. There had to be a way to get past the pain. Why did it cause such pain anyway? Sure, Dumbledore had used it to cause him pain, but it was just magic being used to do so.

He blinked.

“It’s just magic,” he muttered, remembering Draco saying the same thing yesterday.

He chewed his lip, feeling like he was on the right track finally, but where did he go from there? If it was just magic, what did that mean for breaking the connection or dealing with the pain? There had to be a reason it could affect him so severely, not to mention how deep it had burrowed. There had to be something anchoring the magic, something Dumbledore had used to make it so strong and painfully unapproachable.

“You are nothing without me.”

Harry froze as Dumbledore’s words echoed in his head. He cringed as pain bloomed in his chest as the red ball of light pulsed. He realized, then, that was it, what had been feeding Dumbledore’s magic all along…

His loneliness.

They had existed together all his life, created at the same time. The magic, his scar, was used to keep him alone and feeling alone made the magic stronger. It was what it all came back to for him. Everything Dumbledore had done was to keep him alone and willing to do anything the headmaster told him. It didn’t matter what he’d found—Ron, Hermione, the Gryffindors, Sirius, Draco, Severus—the fear and deep-seated feeling of loneliness was always there. It was a part of him and had allowed Dumbledore’s magic to become embedded in him. This was the part of him Dumbledore had created, all that would be left of him if Dumbledore won.

He knew, then, what to do. He wasn’t sure he would ever truly be free of the loneliness—he’d felt it for fifteen years, after all—but he could be free of Dumbledore and the man’s inflicted pain.

He took a deep breath and reached for the pulsating ball, allowing it to take him to the center of his scar. The second he was there, surrounded by the red web and pulsing core, the pain hit, nearly sending him to his knees. He gasped out, hand clutching his chest as wave after wave washed over and around him.

“Well, maybe you have to use him against himself,” Draco echoed around him.

With a chuckle still broken by pain at Draco’s apparently spot-on advice, Harry dropped his hand from his chest and balled them into fists. He shook with the pain as it radiated through the web. He let it roll over him and focused on his lifetime of loneliness, allowing it to build larger and larger inside him like a snowball. It became like a heavy weight in his chest, throbbing in time with the red ball in front of him until it was almost a deafening echo.

After several seconds, he felt a peak and gathered the traumatic ball of loneliness inside him, shoving it outwards. Visually, nothing happened on his end, but, after just seconds, the glow of the ball and web flickered. He kept pushing, clenching his jaw as the pain reached almost unbearable levels, until, finally, the web began to disintegrate around him. He watched the web disappear through vision blurred by pain and tears, the core pulsing quicker and harder as the web sizzled away.

Soon, the last of the web was disappearing, the red ball was sending out constant waves of agonizing, desperate power, and Harry felt like he was being torn apart. He was on his knees now, tears pouring down his face and his entire body shaking violently. He watched as the final threads of the web vanished and shoved all he had left at the core.

“You are you…and you are remarkable,” Severus’ voice said.

“You can beat him…you’re stronger than he believes,” Draco’s voice said.

Harry gritted his teeth as the core fought to stay alive. “I will never be yours again. I will end you,” he ground out and sent a final blast of imposed loneliness at the core.

His eyes immediately wanted to close as the red ball became blinding, but he forced them to stay open. He had to see its destruction. The pain it exuded was excruciating and he could no longer hold back screams. He let them out, screaming at the top of his lungs as he watched the red core reach a peak before exploding into what resembled glittery red stardust.

As soon as it exploded, Harry felt himself be yanked away into darkness. Moments later, he was drawing in a harsh, deep breath and flying up on the sofa in the Founders’ Library. He could feel himself shaking, could feel the tears on his cheeks, could feel the heavy pressure in his chest. What he didn’t feel as he gasped for air was anything in his scar. No tingling or prickling or stabbing…nothing. It was like it wasn’t even there.

Hands grasped his face, forcing him to look at Severus who looked terrified.

“Dad,” he croaked out. “I did it. He’s gone.”

And he melted into his father’s embrace.

Harry watched as what remained of their rebellion joined him in the main chamber in front of Slytherin’s head. It had been three days since he’d broken Dumbledore’s connection in his scar. He’d taken one day to just rest, as per Severus’ orders, and to ensure there were no negative effects from the break. After that, he was left completely alone in the Chamber, Severus and his friends finding themselves suddenly under intense surveillance, and so had done what little planning he could on his own. However, he knew he couldn’t do any of it alone, so he’d sent a message through the bracelets, asking everyone to join him in the Chamber to discuss their crucial next steps.

“Everything alright, mate?” Seamus asked once they were all gathered.

“As they can be,” Harry said. “However, there are some things we need to do. We’re close to the end and we need to be ready, we need plans.”

“Don’t we just need the last sword?” Neville asked.

“Yes, but once we have it, the final battle will start and we are not ready to face Dumbledore,” Harry said.

“So, what do we do?” Luna sked.

Harry sighed. “A lot and it has to all happen at nearly the same time.”

“What do you mean?” Neville asked.

“We’re splitting into teams, each with a task,” Harry said. “Ron and Hermione, you’re going to try and find where Slytherin’s sword might be and tell Tom. Draco, you’ll be helping me with the hourglass and the Order reveal. For the rest of you, we need more help. We cannot fight Dumbledore on our own.”

“But there isn’t anyone else,” Dennis said.

“No, there is, but we have to find them,” Harry said. “That’s what I need you to do. It’s time to start talking to the students and the staff. You have to be careful, but I know there are others that have figured out the truth or, at least, part of it, and we need them. Ron, I also want you to talk to the rest of your family. Luna, I want you to talk to the Founders, see what they will be able to do, as well as the ghosts. We need an army and we have to build it here. No one outside of Hogwarts will believe us, Dumbledore’s lies are too deep in the world at this point so it’s just us and what we can get here.”

“This is really it, isn’t it?” Seamus said. “A battle with Dumbledore.”

Harry nodded gravely.

They all looked at each other before Ron cleared his throat and clapped his hands.

“Alright, we’ll have to save the depression for another time,” he said. “For now, you heard what you need to do, so get to it. We’re on a time limit here.”

The group dispersed then, heading for the various exits to begin their assigned task. Ron and Hermione disappeared into the Library to find Slytherin’s sword, and Harry turned to Draco.

“We need Dad and the Founders,” Harry said. “It’s time to ‘rescue’ me.”