Last time:

His plea echoed the cell walls, his voice anguished "Sirius, don't die!"

It had been several day's since Harry had been captured, and now it was a mere two days from Christmas Eve. The entire Order was up in arms, trying to get their plans together; but, however many times they made out a plan, they knew that they wouldn't be able to execute any of them until Severus had been called by Riddle.

This, of course, rubbed those who cared most deeply for Harry raw. Severus spent his days preparing his emergency medical kit, or pacing his quarters with Remus half-echoing him. Draco, Ron and Hermione were worried sick, though Draco had the benefit of knowing his BondMate still lived. Luna seemed to be the worse off, for despite her apparent smooth face, she was more withdrawn than ever.

They all hoped, planned and prayed that they would manage to get their friend back in one piece. Draco, sly Slytherin that he was, planned a little something extra. He made sure his sword was clean (they had finally obtained metal ones the day before the kidnapping), and his wand was ready for battle. He did not plan on being left out of the final battle in this war, not when his BondMate would be in the thick of it. Getting there, however, was going to be another challenge altogether.

***

Harry growled softly, pacing the length of the cell once again. They had taken Sirius, as they had done for the last several days. Each time they brought him back, the man was in worse condition. With all three wizards, they had managed to push back death, but they were all running out of magic outside of their emergency stock.

When Sirius wasn't in so much pain, however, he was good company for the two wizards. Though he had never gotten on with Lucius before this, they both realized that they were in the same position. Harry had been thrilled to hear that: except for Sirius, everyone else had gotten out okay. Even most of the Death Eaters (or pseudo-Eaters) had survived, even if they had been injured.

Harry turned sharply to the opening door, and Lucius looked up from where he was contemplating the floor. Two guards came in, one to open the doors and keep the prisoners in line, the other to drag a broken Sirius back into the cell. Harry growled low in his throat, and even Malfoy seemed to be incensed at the treatment the other adult had been given. Even if he had done the same in his time as a Death Eater, it was obvious to him it was only to hurt and break Harry, not get information from him.

Once the guards had locked the cell and room back up, Harry rushed over to Sirius. Attempting to put his hands on Padfoot's chest to run a diagnostic, he was surprised when he was stopped by the other Animagus. Sirius moaned softly, and said in a weak voice "Don't waste your energy, Harry. They did too much damage this time." Harry bit back a sob, eyes glittering in the fading light.

Padfoot was gasping for breath, his face pale as sweat and blood trickled through his hair to puddle around his head. He reached for Harry's hand, and said softly "I have something to...ngh..give you Harry. Please accept it, and get out of here." Harry took the hand, nodding quietly; what happened next surprised Harry to no end.

A glowing started at Sirius' solar plexus, a bright burnt orange color. It flowed up his arm into his hand and from there into Harry. As Sirius appeared to get weaker, Harry felt a jolt of power enter him, joining with his core of red/gold/green. After the power transfer, both were panting. Sirius managed to get his voice back enough to say "That's all I got kiddo. Now go and get yourself out of here!"

Harry shook his head, eyes half-glazed as a new wound was made on his psyche. With horror he watched his godfather take his last breath, the hand slipping from Harry's to lay on the ground. Biting his cheek, he closed his eyes tightly as all the memories he had of Padfoot ran through his brain.

He eventually shook himself out of his self-pity, tore a strip off of Sirius' clothes, and tied it around his hand as he had seen someone in a movie or two do (the few he'd been allowed to see). He then stood up, waved his hand to make Sirius feather light, and said "Can you carry him, Lucius? Once we are outta here, you can either leave, or follow me, but I don't want him left in this cell." The man nodded, picking up the corpse easily and with respect.

Harry turned towards the cell door, his eyes nearly black with controlled rage. He was not going to allow this act to go unpunished, even if it meant his death or insanity. Placing his hand over the lock, he easily broke it with the extra magic flowing through him. He then took a sliver of the metal off the lock, and picked the lock on the wooden door as easily as if he'd cast Alohomora.

With Lucius following the teen who was quickly becoming a young man, Harry stalked off to find Tom, his magic curled about him like wings forming a protective cloak. His eyes had a distinctly cat-like gleam, and his mouth was twisted into a snarl. He looked every part of his Animagus form, though he hadn't transformed since he'd been captured.

It wasn't hard to find Riddle, who was arguably the most powerful presence above the dungeons. So it was in a near blast of magic that Harry stormed into the 'Dark Lord's' throne room, looking for the world ready to nuke the entire place with one well aimed magic attack. He roared out as he strode forwards "Tom Marvolo Riddle, you coward! Are you content to sit there while your men try to whittle away my resolve? Or would you rather have it finished and done with for good?!"

Voldemort growled at his name, but looked intrigued at what the teen had said. He spoke in his sibilant voice "What, exactly, would that entail?" When he was told that it would involve a duel by swords, Voldemort agreed, and set the time of the duel for an hour before sun-set so they could both get ready. He also had to make sure his entire army was there to witness the defeat of his greatest enemy. Once Potter was dead, Voldemort could finish his conquest, and no one would stand in his way, not even the old fool.

***

The circle of Death Eaters surrounded the two who were facing off. So intent were they on the upcoming battle that none noticed the extra people, or a moving shadow who was gone when one's eyes fell upon it.

Harry held his sword in front of him in the preparation stance, noticing that Tom echoed him. He had summoned up the sword, somehow, as it was definitely his and not a generic sword. As the opponents faced off, the world itself seemed to hold it's breath. As they made the requisite bow to each other, both scanned for any signs of weakness.

Once the formalities were over, the two started circling, holding their weapons at the ready. It was Tom who finally got impatient enough to launch the first attack. With a flurry of moves, he struck out at Harry with his sword. He wasn't expecting each of his stroked to be met by a block, however, which threw off his balance.

That was all Harry needed, and stepping in quickly, he nicked Voldemort on the arm. It barely drew blood, and was more like a bee sting then anything. It did, however, show that Harry was more than capable of holding his own against his older opponent. For that, Harry thanked Derrik for teaching his class how to fence in an adequate manner.

It continued like that for several minutes, Harry getting nicks upon Tom, and dodging the other's attacks. A nick or two did hit the young Animagus, but nothing serious. However, Harry noticed that Voldemort had let his guard down far too much and was wide open. Taking advantage of the opening, Harry faked an attack at the lower region, then stabbed forward with all his strength when the 'Dark Lord' took the bait.

The sword hit his mark, and slid all the way in, up and out the back, till it was buried to the hilt. But Riddle had pulled his sword up just as the sword pierced him, so that Harry would be speared upon it as the momentum carried him towards the other.

The agony was intense for both of them, and their world turned black. As it grew lighter, Harry was surprised to see that, while he was still wounded, it didn't hurt half as much. But he seemed to be carrying something extremely heavy, and it was not his sword. When he looked down, he was stunned to realize that it seemed to be a ethereal soul of a sorts.

Though he normally would have concentrated on the soul attached to him, something drew his attention. He nearly passed out again as he saw a cloaked figure in front of him: Death. The skull inside the hood seemed to be smiling, and when he spoke, Harry knew the reason why.

"Ah, Harry. I am surprised to see you here so soon after our last meeting. Last time you were only a tiny babe, though. It is good to see you grew up, and found yourself a home as well." The skeleton seemed to chuckle softly, though it was very airy. Despite the over all scariness of Thanatos, he seemed to be somewhat friendly; at least he was to Harry. "I have to thank you, child, for finishing this one off. He made a deal with the Evil One, splitting his soul up. It has taken me this long to collect all his soul pieces. The one you have attached to you will also be removed."

Harry looked surprised, and looked down in half-disgust at the soul on him. However, by the time he looked down, it was already being removed, taking a fragment of his body with it. Thanatos sighed, and engulfed the soul with his cloak. He states "I'm afraid the deed needed to remove the soul from you, hurt you as well. I can take you with me, if you want, but you can also go back. I will tell you that if you choose to follow me, you will never see your family again."

Harry blinked, surprised at that. Then the images of his friends, BondMate, and of all people, Severus, flashed in front of his mind's eye. He grimaced sadly, knowing that Thanatos was right. Sighing, he said quietly "I would love to see those who preceded me, but...I can't leave them behind. Sir, can you send me back?"

Thanatos smiled softly, and nodded. With a flick of his cloak, he waved good bye, seeming to be moving backwards. Then Harry realized it was he who was moving backwards. He nearly got caught in the dark mist between death and life, but two shining flames brought him back to his body.

Groaning, he opened his brilliant emerald eyes, and was not surprised in the least to see both Severus and Draco kneeling above him from where he'd fallen away from Tom's sword. He smiled, firming his connection with Draco. Then, unable to withstand the pain in his body, slipped back into unconsciousness. He would fight for life, but he wasn't about to give up.

***

Harry awoke to the familiar sight of the Hospital Wing. Almost moaning with frustration, he noticed that the pain was almost non-existent. Fighting the urge to sit up, he felt at the wound, only to find it almost totally healed over. He chuckled mentally, thinking I love magic. He got a reply from Draco ~As do I, but if you EVER pull a stunt like that again, and I'll kill you myself I swear! Also, you were positive in giving Luna your bracer?~ Harry responded in the affirmative, chuckling when Draco 'rolled his eyes'.

Harry was brought out of his banter with Draco by Severus chuckling softly. He looked over at the man, and smiled slightly. He murmurs "I should have known. So tell me, how was it that both of you were at the final battle?"

Sev groaned, rolling his eyes sky ward. He told the story of how Draco, hidden under the blasted Cloak, had stowed away with the other apparating adults when he had been called. They had had to hold back while the duel went on, but when it looked as if it ended, the Order attacked and subdued the Death Eaters quickly. It was then that the Auror teams came in, late as usual. Instead of protesting or excusing themselves, they cleaned everything up and made sure evidence was given that Voldemort had indeed returned and was killed by Harry.

They also pardoned Sirius, which meant that Harry was now the richest wizard in England.

Harry didn't care about that, more concerned with the fact that Sirius was dead, and that the closest thing he'd had to a father had left him. Severus, however, threw one last surprise at him. He told Harry the truth of his parentage, which gave Harry a somewhat dizzy spell.

The most disturbing part of what he had been told was the fact that he was a child of rape, and he didn't really care. This man had showed him as much care as James likely had, and had been far better than the Dursley's. He was willing to accept Severus, tentative though the trust may be. He was just happy that Tom was dead, he had his family and friends (as well as a prospective mate in Luna), and he was freed from Scare's power. His heart sang the refrain to the sky's: his Running days were over!