Archive of Our Own

1

It takes Harry a while to realise he's staring at the ceiling. 

It's just, the last thing he remembers is softness against his lips, a husky whisper and then bright bright light. 

Now he can hear the faint crash of waves, clatter of footsteps and clinking cutlery in the distance, the creak of weathered floorboards, the low murmur of voices beyond.... The ceiling is light blue and worn, the lines on the wooden crease make out a little knot in the corner, like an eye almost, and it sharpens by the second.

He's awake, lying on a lumpy mattress that smells like soap and salt and spongy foam.

He closes his eyes, willing himself to calm down. 

This is Shell Cottage. For so countless months he's woken up to a single day and it was NOT this day. 

What does it mean? Did the ritual work? 

How far back has he gone in time? Is this a new time loop?

"Ow."

Harry places a hand on his chest and rubs the thin cotton of his shirt. Maybe the hurt is dramatic, it's more of an awareness of presence than actual pain, like there's a little hook lodged in his sternum, it's dangling and free but it's there, reminding him.

That part happened and was very real. 

A soul bond. 

He reaches up to his forehead on reflex, fingers brushing his scar and he can tell even if he can't explain how or why, that there is no Horcrux there anymore. He's never had time to contemplate the difference before, because honestly he feels like himself. But there's an absence, or a transference from his forehead to his chest. 

They're still connected in some way, but this time it was by choice. 

If he wasn't thinking about it, he would have missed it, just barely, another small tug. 

Harry gasps, and he doesn't know why but there’s a rush in his chest that rises rapidly and his eyes water. He turns on his side, one hand over his chest, another over his mouth as if to push back the emotions, his heart beating a mile a minute. 

His soulmate. 

It might sound stupid but he feels another tug, and he concentrates trying to send— what, feelings? In response? 

Where are you? 

What's happening? 

Are we free?

The window panes rattle almost as if matching his dizzying thoughts, Harry inhales and exhales a few times, rubbing his chest again. Oddly the windows still too. 

Harry rubs a hand over his face— the memories of the soul bonding ritual returning to him. Snape overseeing and leading the bond with a hard scowl. Lucius and Narcissa, a bit lost and unsure where to stand with dusty robes, dark circles under their eyes, Draco between them, in between their grip. Ron and Hermione linking their arms around Harry in full support as everything is being read to him. 

There are others in attendance, a crowd of gatherers, in the middle of the courtyard they had their final battle many loops ago. 

Voldemort, the Dark Lord, who's wanted him dead since before he was born— turn towards him with serene red eyes and a crooked smile. He's in his simple black robes, Harry in his grey hoodie and jeans, they don't look like a couple ready to bond and become soulmates for life and death. 

But it's exactly what they're doing. 

Snape was reading out loud the clause and terms of their agreement but it was lost to him, all he wanted to do was focus on Voldemort's eyes, he wanted to will himself to believe, Voldemort meant every word he uttered. 

Dried thin lips uttering softly. 

"I vow to you—"

"By the shard of my soul—" 

"By the enormity of my magic—"

"I promise you—" 

.

.

.

.

.

The window panes rattle again.

.

.

.

.

“Harry?”

The door creaks open and Hermione leans in, large curls sticking up everywhere, she's in robes and holding a scroll of parchment. Ron looms behind her, in some kind of rough get up that makes him look like a henchman. 

"You ready?" Ron asks, "You were having a fitful sleep, thought I'd give you a few more minutes." 

Hermione walks in with Ron following, "There's breakfast, Fleur insists before we leave." 

Ron snorts, "Griphook is certainly taking his damn time, knowing no one will be carrying his food to bed now."On Hermione's glare. "What? He's getting on everyone's nerves. Ordering Fleur to get him juice, he knows we won't have any use for him after today so he's milking everything he can."

"Hush Ron, we need him to cooperate until we're done with the mission." She turns back to Harry, "So you ready? I was thinking of taking my potion once we left, like we planned." 

Oh right, the Gringots break in. 

Harry sits up too quickly, another tug and his hands automatically rub his chest again. He plops on his glasses to look up at Ron and Hermione who can't disguise their concern. 

The thing about the three of them. They've been through too much, it was impossible for them to miss anything. They would pretend and ignore and carry on if they could. But Harry's sure they can see the redness of his eyes. What was the point of hiding it from them anymore? If anything he needed them on his side now more than ever. 

He wipes his eyes with the back of his arm and gestures for them to come in. 

“I have to tell you something,” Harry croaks. Gosh, had he been screaming? 

They rush in, Hermione perches on the edge of the bed, Ron on his other side. They look just as he remembers, in all the loops. He had seen so many versions, so many instances where they died, they lost, they were screaming in pain… Now they're here. This was his last chance. The mortality of it all suddenly grips him in fear. 

"Mate?" 

“Is it another vision?” Hermione asks. “Does He know what we're up to?"

Harry lets out a sound that wants to be a laugh but comes out broken.“You could say that.”

‏𖦹‏𖦹‏𖦹‏𖦹

 2

"You soul- bonded with You-Know-Who?" 

Both Harry and Hermione quickly hushed Ron to keep his voice down. "I had to, I wouldn't be here if I didn't." He steadies himself to explain."The only way to escape the time loop was to escape as a whole uncorrupted soul— and Ammut recognised both Vol— okay I won’t say it, You-Know-Who's— soul and mine as separate entities. We were trapped in Ammut's time loop." 

Harry has a bigger appreciation for the concept of eternity now that he's faced the possibility of it. And soulbonds were forever weren’t they? He traded one eternal life for another. 

It looks like Ron is going through three phases of emotions– perhaps bewildered? Aghast? Then deeply concerned? He opens and closes his mouth, looking to Hermione for guidance. 

"You and You-know-who were both stuck on the day of the Battle at Hogwarts." Hermione reiterates. "Which according to you is tomorrow." 

"Yes." 
“And a monster took His soul, and you as well, and you’ve relived the same day around seventy times?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And this was the only way to escape?” 

“Yes!”

Her brows are furrowed but she wraps her arms around him, “I’m sorry Harry.” and— he sighs in relief. There's been many, oh so many instances Harry had to explain it to her, and not once has Hermione doubted him or called him crazy. She doesn’t understand it yet, but Harry knows she believes him. 

He feels another pair of arms wrap around him. “Must’ve been rough, mate.” 

Harry swallows, just holding them, hoping against hope to do so again, tomorrow. “It was a whole thing.” 

A couple more breaths before Hermione pulls back, Ron’s arm lingers on his shoulders. 

"So you know what's going to happen, won't that help win the war?" 

Hermione counters, "You-Know-Who knows the same thing Harry does." 

"Bugger."

Are they still at war though? 

"He’s changed, I mean his plans have." Harry wants to admit he has, they have, but that feels like a lot too soon. But he’s positive what happened before, the enemy part— was now a distant past. 

“You mean because you’ve soul bonded?”

Ron shares a look, “That might stop him from killing you, but winning the war? Isn’t he still immortal?” 

“No, his Horcruxes are all one.”

"All of them?!" 

Harry tells them what happened before the loop–  about their Gringots break in, the Dragon and how they snuck into Hogwarts through the secret tunnel at Hogsmeades. Then how Ron and Hermione destroyed the cup at the Chambers of Secrets, then the fire that destroyed the Diadem. Lastly, they tried to look for the snake in the Shrieking Shack— he shudders, remembering the countless of loops Snape was tortured and maimed there— then Harry found out he was a Horcrux and walked to his death— Ron and Hermione both gasping, "No!" "There must be a different way"—

"I thought it was the only way, Hermione you must have guessed—"

"I thought it was weird how you were able to see his visions, and somehow feel the Horcruxes—" 

“But a Horcrux? How were we supposed to guess that?” It takes Harry a minute to register Ron is angry on Harry’s behalf. “If we knew Dumbledore had planned this from the start we would’ve focused on getting it out of you.” 

“Perhaps why, we weren’t warned.” Hermione concluded grimly, she too looked partly disappointed. 

"But I didn't die, my scar is just a scar." Harry rushes to explain, lifting the fringe of his black hair. "Once we were inside the loop, none of his Horcruxes followed, so the soul that remained is the mortal one. So now he's just— well without." 

"Blimey." Ron says. "Is it weird to think I feel cheated from it all, I mean it sounds like we got it right in the end but— did we really do anything?" 

"What do you mean, you helped." 

Ron shrugs, "I don't remember any of it. Feels like I was never a part of it." 

"It wasn’t a memory worth keeping." Harry snaps, wiping his face again. He thinks about them dying and screaming, because of him, the pain he witnessed, desperately wanting to undo, the relief of every loop and the dread of another day. "You helped when it mattered, whether you remember or didn't if it happened or not with you—!" 

The window pane rattles and the clothes and items on the floor start to levitate. 

Hermione looks around. "Harry?" 

Ron's arm around his shoulder tightened, "I didn't mean it like that mate. I just felt bad you had to do it alone. It was supposed to be us, together, always." 

Harry nods, trying to convey he understands, he has his face in his hands, leaning slightly in Ron's embrace, grateful for the silence and the short reprieve. Fuck, why was he getting emotional about this. It happened, it was over. 

There's a moment of hushed silence –the glass stills– before Hermione shifts beside him, "How about the snake, you didn't tell us who destroyed the snake." 

"Neville. With the sword of Gryffindor." Harry straightens up and exhales. "It was brilliant, I could share a memory about it later." 

"Always knew he was solid!" Ron cheers then clears his throat. "Sorry about Ginny falling for him mate, I know I was hard on you for breaking things off with her— but we were on the run, didn't expect you to find her letter to Bill—" 

"No, it's fine." Harry says firmly, he's not sure how he can explain the change in heart he's had too. He cared about Ginny, but right now all he could think about was his bonded, a niggling, warm pull from his heart. 

He's not sure if Hermione and Ron fully understand what being soul bonded meant, but up until—yesterday? The ritual? Harry was unsure what it meant too.

What were they to each other, Voldemort and him? Did he mean what he said inside the loop? Were they still enemies, or… more?

"I believe what you're saying about the time loops, but just to be sure with the Horcruxes— I mean, we don't want what happened during fifth year to repeat—" Hermione trails, her voice wavering with an apologetic smile. "I mean, there's no harm in checking— if it's true right?” 

“What if You-Know-Who fed you a vision or a dream?” Ron says, suddenly catching Hermione’s drift. 

Harry frowns, but Hermione hastily cuts him. “Thats the worst that can happen, but what if you’re from another dimension, and what you experienced isn’t the same for us– since you admit there are all sorts of variations of time magic–”

"The time loops were real—" Harry says firmly. He knows himself to know he couldn't have made it up. And Harry doubts Voldemort was smart enough to use the very thing he initially despised. It took Harry what, thirty loops just to convince him to talk? 

And the bond must have happened, why would Voldemort risk it all to have Harry, now that they were both mortal? 

Although he's annoyed, he understands her need to verify. He tries to think from their perspective, to Ron and Hermione, the future hasn't happened yet. Last night, they were going over the details of their Gringots break in, hyping themselves up and now Harry's woken up and told them they needn't bother. It was suspicious. 

Harry has a moment of grief upon realising he's lived at least—seventy loops, seventy days— apart from Ron and Hermione. The Ron and Hermione in the loop were– not here with him. He’s aged and different and he feels it in his bones. 

"So should we go to each location to check on the Horcruxes?" Ron suggests. "Or go straight to Hogwarts for the Diadem?" 

“Maybe we should continue with Gringots? Since we’re technically prepared?”

Harry glances at the window, the curtains partially revealing the open sea, the sound of the distant waves. An insistent non-stop tugging in his chest, urges him.

"I know a faster way." 

‏𖦹‏𖦹‏𖦹‏𖦹

 
3

"You sure about this mate?" Ron has a quiver in his voice, but he stands close to Harry as they step on the edge of the cliff. 

Hermione has her arms crossed, but she's quiet and deep in thought, flanking his other side. 

“I think this is perfect.” 

The best way to prove it to Hermione and Ron was to show them, and Voldemort was trying to reach Harry, he can feel it. 

They decided they wouldn't reveal Shell Cottage, so the three of them and Bill  Apparrated to a place further along the cliff. It had taken Harry another half hour to convince them to do this, and when Bill found out they were leaving without Griphook (much to Fleur's dismay) he insisted they tell him what was going on and after a badly summarised version of—I was in a time loop, technically am soul bonded to the uh, enemy, and we need a status update—he all but demanded to come with. 

“I know Dumbledore trusts you three, but honestly this is mad even for you Harry.” But he suits up, and leads them to higher grounds. “A soul bond doesn’t mean he can necessarily find you, calling him–” 

"Would help us get the answers we need." sure, they can go the more rational route of writing a letter– hey, uh soulmate, is peace still on? But Harry’s chest was about to burst from the agony of waiting. 

Harry will never be able to escape his grasp anymore, they're bound by deeper inescapable ways.

By their souls. 

What’s the point in playing it safe? It’s either yes, he’ll honour his vows, or…

Harry tries not to think how calm he is about the alternative.

"He's probably checking all his Horcrux hideouts." Hermione says with a sigh, "If the snake is really gone, then he would check Gringots next so all our planning is out the window." 

"But can we trust him?" Bill asks. "What's to stop him from taking you, soul bonded or not and fucking us over to win the war he’s wanted?" 

And that's the thousand Galleon question wasn't it? 

I promise—

Harry is staring at the vast blue ocean, the waves crashing the cliff and he can taste the moisture and salt on his lips. He's changed into a mint green shirt and black slacks— a different set, he can't stand to see the same grey hoodie ever again. His wand and his invisibility cloak is in his pocket. Ron has the sword strapped to his back. His, Hermione’s and Bill's wand are out. 

Harry wishes they would hide under the cloak, but they are stubborn about showing a united front. All he hopes is that they won’t die again because of his foolishness. 

Harry inhales, the sun is bright, is it midday now? It reminds him of their bonding ceremony. 

He has to know… hands curled in front of his thundering heart. They were relying on the taboo to do its work but Harry wants to believe it’s more than that.

Feet firmly on the rocky edge, his lips whisper, barely moving. 

"Voldemort." 
 

There's only the ocean, blue and vast, and waves crashing and slapping the rocks, then the taut tug in his chest, sharpening and warming, and then—

A loud crack from above, and everyone stumbles back, looking up at the sky, but no, the sound is actually from down below— where the ocean is forcefully parted by a strong force of magic. 

"Harry?" 

He can't hear them anymore, his feet glued on the edge of the cliff, staring at the upcoming force that was gaining, the ocean divided to give way to the human shaped arrow, aimed at him like a rapid torpedo and Harry is paralysed by how desperately hot and thick the bond is, it's a desire so strong— like a rubber band screaming to snap back, to return home— he almost wants to push his feet over and reach a hand out—

"Harry!" 

With a forceful slam, Harry grunts, his feet lifted, and he's off balance at once, but then caught— in arms and magic— his surroundings spinning, the air swirling with dust and water and a force that takes his breath away. 

The bond settles and pauses, a caesura where everything fades, then the water claps back, and droplets of water fall like rain. Soaking him, his heart stills, their gazes met —deep red with green—for a single anxious moment. 

Harry gulps. All confidence is gone now as he stares at Voldemort's pale bluish skin, the slit of his snake like nose, his chapped lips, brightly and real, under the sun.

Harry’s distracted by the bond that acts like steel electric wires, and it’s cackling—

Before he decides what to do, Voldemort's lips are on him, intense heat and weight crashing, those lips smothering him and demanding, another hand snake behind his head, sifting through his hair, holding him forcefully up, and Harry closes his eyes and loses it— loses time, all other senses and fear. Because, like instinct, he listens to the bond gripe and pushes him forward. Making him, more like nudging him, because he was already clutching the other's robes, the rough material rumpled beneath his fingers and hand, not wanting to let him leave his sight. 

The bond alights, fire and magic, his mind is steadily consumed, he gasps, opening his lips to accept the intrusion and shivers in their embrace. 

Nothing has changed, and everything has all at once. 

The bond sings— organs and violins in his ear, vibrating his core, his magic, his soul—

When Voldemort pulls back to let him breathe Harry follows a bit, eyes on those now wet lips. 

"It worked." Voldemort murmurs, and there's a small lift of his lips, as if he too was waiting to wake up from a dream. 

It’s a new look on Voldemort. Harry has seen him determined, knows what he looks like, playing coy and suggestive, has memorised him in anger and fear… 

But this wonder? This was new. 

Harry soaks it all in. He's transported back to the moment Voldemort looms over him, cradling him in his arms, caressing his body with a near plea, worshipping, whispering, promising—

Harry doesn't want to break the moment, but reality falls quicker like the splash of cold water, there is no more redo, this was the moment of truth. Harry swallows, searching his eyes, "Is it over?" 

The war, their past, the deaths?

His expression confuses Harry, from open, he suddenly shutters close to a stifled mask. 

"Not yet." And to Harry's dismay, Voldemort pulls back, letting him down to stand on the rocky ground. He straightens his back, putting distance between him. The bond is calm but Harry’s heart? It’s anything but. He almost demands for Voldemort to answer him properly when the man speaks.

 "Ammut still exists." 

‏𖦹‏𖦹‏𖦹‏𖦹

4

They agreed to meet in Hogsmeade. Agreed was an understatement because Harry first had to endure multiple cursed diagnostics and swallow antidotes for love potions, then withstand Fleur's Veela glare (which he did not know was the strongest pull a Veela could make to lure someone, and if someone was Imperiused or cursed they wouldn’t falter). 

(It took Harry ages to explain, no, the main reason he isn’t persuaded by Veela is probably the same reason why the Imperius curse won’t work on him).

Afterwards he sat while Bill tried every counter curse he could think of. Harry started to pull his hair out.

“We don’t have time for this.” 

“Better safe than sorry, kid.”

"We are soulbonded, what else can I tell you."

Remus, who arrived the moment Bill sent a Patronus, stared at Harry as if he had lost all sense. At least Hermione and Ron tried to understand. 

"Harry he's—"

"I know."

"He just— with you— right there—"

"I know."

"And you consented–" Ron trails making difficult garbled gestures with his freckled hands. "With him?"

Yes, the kiss was everything he wanted, but he wished he didn’t have a gaping audience to answer to as soon as he came to. 

"It’s the bond," Harry lies, rubbing his chest. He hates the way Ron and Hermione visibly relax, nodding along as if Harry stated the obvious, how Bill’s lips thinned as if a large mystery had finally been solved, or how Remus paled in a way that suggested he thought he had failed everyone. Because it was the truth, but also not the whole truth. Deep down, despite the bond, despite everything they had endured, Harry knew in seventy loops many impossibilities happened. 

Ron and Hermione must have spoken privately because after their short fiasco, a forceful lunch with hushed whispers, they strongly armed him back into his room . 

Hermione got to the point, "So you and Voldemort are what now? What has the bond done to you?"

"We’re not enemies," Harry answers firmly. He knew that much at least. Everything else was a mess of contradictions. Voldemort had kissed him, then pulled back to stare at him with that unreadable expression, and Harry did not know what to ask or what to say. The bond kept tugging at him, frantic and hot, urging him to move closer, urging him not to let Voldemort out of sight. But the war had shifted into something undefined, and Ammut was still a real threat. It didn’t give him time to ask for details. 

His cheeks warmed at the memory of breaking apart from Voldemort's kiss – the way his heart swayed– and the twin expression on Ron and Hermione’s face. 

“But that’s not the problem right now,” He and Voldemort will have to wait. “Voldemort is convinced Ammut is real–” Ron and Hermione shudder at the name. “So we have to leave now if we want a chance at saving Hogwarts.” 

They didn’t have time for doubt. 

The irony was not lost on him.

Voldemort suggested a neutral place to meet, where they would further discuss their plans for a post war agreement but also the imminent threat of Ammut. Harry had to swallow a scream when Voldemort left because something about it felt like a betrayal. 

Man, he has to get a grip, monster under the castle, focus!

They decided Remus, Bill, Arthur, Kingsley, and later McGonagall from Hogwarts would accompany Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Voldemort had left without a single backward glance, which confused Harry and rubbed him the wrong way. They just had their first kiss outside the loop, couldn’t he at least say goodbye properly? 

Yes, Harry is aware how it sounds. 

He schools his expression not wanting to lose face a second time. Ron and Hermione asked if he was okay and he forcefully glared at them to not bring it up, they had bigger issues right now. 

There weren’t many places that could hold a meeting, Hogs Inn was the best of the lot. 

“What makes you think I’d let him into my establishment?” Aberforth gruffs. 

“Because of Ariana.” Aberforth’s face tightens, Harry continues, “You told me her story in a time loop I was stuck in– and I know you have hope for peace too.” 

“And you think the man in hand with my brother’s killer would agree to it?” 

“I’m asking you to trust me. Like how your brother did.” 

Aberforth snorts, “He puts his bets on you when he has no idea what he's doing, not everything he’s done is right boy.” 

“I know.” Harry’s probably the one who knows it the most, hadn’t Dumbledore sent him to his death? “But he can be right too.” 

Ariana in the portrait is in a blue dress and watching serenely. Aberforth glances at her and sighs. With a clenched hand on his counter top, he warns, “If they ruin anything it’s out of your pay.” 

“Right.” Because if a duel breakouts and the agreement breaks, he’d pay the highest price of all.

No more do overs. Harry’s starting to worry he’s own decision to put so much faith in Voldemort. 

"You are positive about this, Potter," McGonagall asks as soon as she arrives. She hugs him tightly, and he’s shocked by how tall he was compared to her. 

"Well as positive as I will ever be." There was no better way to do this.

To ensure everyone’s safety, Anti-Magical Wards were placed, they were complex timely wards that would fall after an hour. The wards pressing on his magic were uncomfortable, Ron rubbed his neck twice. 

“This feels bizarre.” 

Minutes later Voldemort steps inside, and so did several Death Eaters, and Snape, whom Harry belatedly realised he had forgotten about in the scramble. He was thankfully still standing, no trace of tremors of pain. His black eyes taking in Harry, so discreet it could pass off as indifference. But now he knows the truth, he can tell Snape is thinking about the new turn of events, and perhaps wondering if Harry is still a Horcrux. Unaware of the true danger he was in. 

Voldemort knew of his true allegiance and it had been a sore point for him, Harry internally winced at the memories of Snape tortured brutally. Voldemort made no secret he hated the ‘traitor’, but he’s kept him unharmed now, why?

No one greets the other, what do enemies say anyway when they meet like this? Yes, let’s not kill each other alright? The tension alone was so thick, Harry felt suffocated. No one was willing to sit down or speak first, assessing each other. 

Harry’s eyes fall to Voldemort’s lips, and feels the tingle memory of them, and he hates himself for  the pang of disappointment as Voldemort doesn’t meet his eye. The soul bond vibrated as if in consensus. 

Voldemort doesn’t act as if he feels any of it, instead, he surveys the room once, red eyes hard, before he speaks.

"Severus," he says lightly, and Harry almost steps forward because he’s thinking, no– not a demonstration, before, "You should sit where your true allegiance belongs."

The offer leaves everyone turning to each other,  confused. Snape is frozen where he stands, Harry can see the mental calculation behind his black eyes. Harry's also caught off guard, shouldn’t he want to keep Snape in the dark? What's he playing at?

Oh. 

Was this Voldemort’s way of proving he was keeping his promise? Before they bonded Harry demanded that Voldemort not kill anyone Harry cared about. 

Was he doing this for Harry?

The earlier pang transformed into a warm glow, regardless, Harry thought it better he hasten things, so he addresses Snape, 

“He knows about uh, mum.” 

Snape’s eyes widen slightly, and he sides eyes Voldemort for a single breath, before he tightens his jaw and walks stiffly across the room. His movement jostled the rest of them to move and take their seat on the wobbly wooden stools. There was an old Firewhiskey and goat smell lingering in the air. 

They nudged Harry toward the centre, Ron sitting close enough for their shoulders to touch and Hermione sliding in on Ron’s other side, while the rest crowded the front row or hovered behind, and Snape— almost grim—took the spot right beside Harry.

“I assume you have a plan, Potter?” 

“Of sorts.” 

“We’re going to die.” He says flatly under his breath. 

“Good to see you too Professor.” 

Voldemort takes his seat next, directly in front of Harry, but once again, he’s avoiding his gaze. The rest move gracefully for prissy Death Eaters ready to kill children, mirroring the Order. Voldemort is the epitome of calm, you’d think he was having a casual day in Hogs Inn, he too has changed his robes to something velvety red. Harry almost wants to laugh because of the stress.

But then his laughter dies when no one else is talking and he has a momentary panic because people were expecting him to lead this— “So uh, we’ve agreed to no more war.” 

“On what terms?” Kingsley speaks up. He’s sitting beside Hermione, facing Voldemort boldly. 

“Harry and I are soulbonded.” Voldemort reveals the Death Eaters twitch but none dare speak now. They must understand what it meant because Lucius and Narcissa were sharing a glance, and Snape is frigid in his seat. Harry schools his face, trying to keep his knees still. “The circumstances have changed, and I find there are other ways to achieve my goals.”

“So you’ll keep the Ministry? And continue with your archaic rules?” 

“I propose a fair election,” Voldemort says silkily. 

“No one in their right mind would openly vote against you.” Kingsley hisses. “Not if they fear for their families.” 

“I’ve given Harry my word not to spill any more magical blood.” 

Kingsley looks at him and Harry nods, “He promised me.” Emboldened slightly, Harry adds, “And we should scrap the current government and its rules anyway, it’s daft— prosecuting muggle borns. It’s part of the promise.” The Death Eaters don’t look so happy about that, but Harry keeps his eyes on Voldemort, trying to prove he was serious about this. 

Voldemort gives him a momentary glance, and that’s enough to heat up their bond and Harry has to grip his own knees to stop himself from leaning forward. His magic was suppressed but there was a building current within him. 

Voldemort doesn’t look like he’s noticed, smoothly he continues, “We’ll discuss the details after we’ve dealt with more pressing manners. We will come to an agreement for peace.” He says unhurried. "Ammut is real and I believe she will emerge again and destroy Hogwarts. And yes, this monster exists. Potter and I witnessed it ourselves, and have managed to escape her threat. But if we do not contain her or destroy her, the castle will be ruined and more lives will be lost today. Ammut is a soul devourer and will continue to take souls until she is satiated.” 

“And it's under the castle?” Mcgonaggal asks, “Who placed it there?”

Harry answers that, “We, I mean Hermione and you Professor Snape, found the older texts on the Founders, and we discovered it was Helga Hufflepuff’s magical creature. She believed if the castle was ever to be under attack, Ammut would be the last line of defense. I think she assumes if a Battle was to happen, the children would either have long escaped, or there would be no survivors.”

“Ammut was prepared as a final judgement.” Voldemort supplies. 

“Against you?” Bill asks the obvious question, “You’re the reason Ammut’s triggered and decides to wake up from its slumber.” 

 “I’m here to be the reason it ends as well.” Voldemort says silkily, but there is that glint of warning in his tone. Though Bill narrows his eyes. 

“If the Battle doesn’t happen would Ammut come out?” Hermione inquires suddenly, breaking the silent battle brewing. 

Voldemort takes over, “Ammut’s existence lasts only a day. All her magic is built around that limit. She emerges, devours as many souls as her body demands. If she doesn’t succeed, and the day ends, her magic consumes her and resets the cycle. That is why she rewinds time. Each new loop is another attempt to reach the number she requires.” 

“Ammut isn’t a normal magical creature, she had to be spelled with specific ancient runes.” Harry recalls. 

“So the reason you were stuck in a time loop...”

“Potter and I were among the first taken, trapped souls that have had to repeat the day with her.  But we can’t rely on a reset, the soulbond destroyed that. The loops have ended. And she will take every soul within the vicinity of Hogwarts.”

“The students.” McGonagall gasps. 

“I knew Hogwarts wasn’t safe.” Lucius mutters, it looks like he and Narcissa are itching to have their son out of there. 

“That’s why we have to stop Ammut now, before it’s too late.” Harry says, pushing back his spectacle. “This is our only chance to take down the monster. 

The members of the Order are whispering among each other. The Death Eaters sharing uneasy glances. Snape looks like he wants to pull Harry away from the meeting right this instant.

Kingsely has a long dark look at Voldemort, “Say we believe you, this is the only time to defeat said creature. What I can’t wrap my head around, is why you want it destroyed. It would have been convenient for you if we died trying to kill it.”

There’s a small frown on his lips, and Harry can see the murder in Voldemort’s eyes, before his mask smoothens again, “Let’s say I have vested interest of my own, vengeance to name it.”

Their eyes meet and then Voldemort’s eyes lowers… to his lips. 

Harry silently holds his breath. 

Voldemort looks away immediately.

“So we end her together, and afterwards, you and your followers will leave Hogwarts and Hogsmeade?” Kingsley reiterates sharply. “A vow of magical detente? With details later to be discussed.” 

Voldemort takes a while to answer, “Yes, that is the agreement.”

 ‏𖦹‏𖦹‏𖦹‏𖦹

5

When they leave the Hogs Inn, it’s afternoon, Harry forces himself to eat but he couldn’t taste the food. The bond is loose and it makes him feel hollow in his chest.  He presses a hand there and forces himself to breathe. He can’t fall apart, lives were at stake. 

They’ve discussed their plans on how to contain the creature. The Order would be in charge of evacuating the castle, and Voldemort’s Death Eaters would be in the surrounding grounds, working on the magical wards to destroy the creature. 

Harry keeps his eyes ahead, the silhouette of Hogwarts rising on the horizon. He has walked these grounds in countless loops, seen the corridors filled with smoke and screams, watched the stone walls collapse again and again. Every blade of grass, every jut of rock carries a ghost memory. He steps over a patch where, in one loop, Ron had fallen with glass in his chest. He walks past the place Neville once dragged Seamus to safety, only to watch both die the next day. He tries not to think about it. He tries not to feel older than he is.

The familiar gates creak open and the courtyard is a swirl of panic. Students spill out in streams, clutching books and cloaks and each other. Some cry, some shout, some stubbornly try to argue with their professors. Harry feels a strange twist of relief. He never got to save them before. Not like this. Not while knowing exactly what fate they had escaped.

Neville spots him first. He barrels forward, and greets them all with a bear hug, behind him is Luna and Ginny who’s also relieved to hear them all return.  

“We don’t have much time, " Harry says, steadying himself. "We need everyone out. There’s a bigger danger than Voldemort— no, it’s okay, he’s on our side, we’re not fighting anymore, Hemrione can explain it better, but we have to get everyone out.” 

“Let’s not let Gryffindors lead the evacuation and accidentally cause a chaotic stampede,” Snape interjects. “We’ll convene with all head of houses and prefects–” 

“And members of the D.A.” Ron chimes in. “I mean all hands on deck right? Might as well.” 

Prefects shout orders, the air vibrates with protective charms, portraits scream warnings about ancient beasts. Flitwick raises shimmering silver barriers that guide the streams of students. McGonagall transfigures fallen rubble into floating platforms for the injured.

Harry loses track of how many times he points someone in the right direction, assures a younger child that they will be alright, answers frantic questions about where to go. The bond pulls again, but faintly, almost dulled by Voldemort’s distance. Harry refuses to look toward the forest where the Death Eaters wait. He cannot handle that right now.

They decided students shall ride the carriages to Hogsmeade, the House Elves also carried what they could pack. Professors and other Order members on brooms and foot, escorting the students to Apparating zones, open Floos and Portkeys being made for larger groups of students. 

There were names being called, people holding hands and dragging their trunks. Some of them saw Harry, Hermione and Ron and were half curious and confused by their sight. 

Draco Malfoy among them, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle who gave him a murderous glare. 

At least no one would die in flames this time. 

The last of the staff left Hogwarts an empty echo. Professors sweeping stragglers and helping slower students with their belongings. Professor Flitwick had somehow levitated all the portraits out. Luna, Neville and Ginny thankfully took the lead upfront. He heard Fred, George and Percy work together to help students out of their carriages. Colin pops up and embraces his brother, then helps the House Elves down the hill. 

The Ghosts were the last to leave, checking every available space, even Peeves helped Mrs Norris and Filch to find their exit safely. 

Harry watches them go with that aching relief again. He was saving so many. 

Perhaps there’s a cue he missed, because suddenly there were twenty wands aimed at the sky, and a dome shape light appeared, their magic connected, weaving together to form a net over the castle. 

“I think he’s trying to contain the creature,” Hermione says, standing beside him and Ron to stare at the magic. “If it can’t eat within a day, it dies right?” 

“If the ward holds,” Because Harry has a hunch this kind of magic takes a lot of strength and endurance. If it fails, they’d have to evacuate Hogsmeade as well, but the first in danger would be Voldemort, his Death Eaters and the remaining members of the Order join forces for this.

Harry’s magic feels restless, the trees he walks past bend slightly and the energy under his soles begin to spark random flames. “I should help.” 

“I’m sure they’ve got it covered.” 

Harry shakes his head, “Ammut is bigger and stronger than you’d expect.” 

They watch the last empty spot patched by magical spells, since the sun sets and the skies darken, the spells glow brighter. 

"Nothing I say can make both of you leave with the rest of your family?”

Hermione holds his hand and Ron, on Harry’s other side, folds his arms tightly. 

“Not a chance mate.”

Harry looks at both of them and feels something crack gently inside him. He wants to protect them. He wants to keep them safe. He wants them far away from what is coming. But he’s not leaving either. 

“Alright, let’s hope this works.”

Hermione smiles at him with wet eyes. Ron thumps his shoulder gently.

 ‏𖦹‏𖦹‏𖦹‏𖦹

6

Voldemort decided on beginning the concentration of magic with specific focal points. 

Voldemort would be on top of the hill that faces the Great Hall, so Harry leads Ron and Hermione through the thicket. 

They pass by the Centaurs who have their arrows out and the spiders who seem to have webbed the forest with their silk. 

“Now we know where not to go.” Ron says with a gulp. 
They are midway when the ground starts to shake. 

“Hurry! That’s her cue!”

It’s harder to walk up the grounds with a mini earthquake, Hermione almost stumbles but Ron catches her and holds her hands till the top. Harry grips his wand, eyes searching for Voldemort. 

There are others shouting in the distance, incantations shouted and magic exerted through sheer will. 

Then another tremor and the ground ripples and slowly cracks with a loud yawn. 

“Merlin’s Magic, that was under Hogwarts all these years?” 

The castle is split open in half, with a ginormous crocodile-like face spearing through rock and a monster with gold scaly skin and dark blue eyes the size of a Quidditch pitch emerge. It was half buried but just its crocodile head and thick dusty mane covered almost all of the Great Hall. 

It opens its mouth and lets out a terrifying godzillian roar causing trees and wind across the Forbidden Forest. 

The sound is deafening, making Ron and Hermione tremble where they stood. Harry braces himself, wand pointed toward the glowing cracks, magic racing through him so fiercely he feels lightheaded.

He has to get to Voldemort.

Harry casts a sound proofing spell to protect their ears– something Hermione taught him in the loop– “We have to go up!” Harry mouths loudly. 

He feels tense raw energy in his finger tips, and the grand desire to follow the bond, to make sure Voldemort is okay. 

Voldemort is somewhere holding fort. The distance sets his nerves on fire.

Come on. Come on.

“I think it’s working!” Hermione shouts, “The monster can’t leave the castle grounds.” 

They were able to watch clearer from above, the bright dome shape keeping Ammut from leaving. It snapped it’s large jaws looking for prey to find none. 

It swiped one of its scaly limbs at a tower and it crumbled like dust. All three of them grimaced at the sight. 

Another roar shakes the grounds. Ammut swings its massive head, and with another roar it slams it’s jaw against the ward causing a loud clash of thunder. 

“Bloody hell, it’s trying to break free.” Ron mutters. 

Harry doesn’t waste time, climbing higher. 

The ground shudders as Ammut pulls its final limb free, colossal and furious. Its tail lashes out, smashing into the far wall of the castle walls and sending bricks flying. The lake shakes and Harry thinks he spies in the distance the Giant Squid sinking deeper. 

Ammut slams its forelimb into the barrier again, and the entire bridge lurches and breaks sideways. There’s shouts of distress. 

It’s so annoying how dark it is, Harry can’t see nor can he determine how further along everyone is. 

He keeps climbing, and then–

A sharp, slicing sound like a blade tearing through a sheet of sky. 

“No! The ward is breaking!” 

Harry’s breath leaves him in a single, ragged sound. He’s watching the monster in real time snap and break free of the lattice net, the sound of Apparition and later other spells thrown in the air. 

Harry catches the glance of blond hair and can’t believe what he’s seeing. 

“Malfoy what the fuck are you doing here?” The blond was huffing and sweating through the thicket. There’s a gash of blood on his forehead.

“My parents are here, you idiot! I can’t leave them! They’re wandless!”

“You’re going to fucking die!” Harry hisses, staring at the pale blond with dark circles under his eye. 

“Yeah, well after you.” Malfoy sneers. 

There’s another roar that makes them pause and crouch low, the ground beneath his feet giving way, Harry pushes Malfoy forward and urges his friends. “We have to run!” 

Straining with everything he has, pushing himself forward even if the grounds want to break apart like old cloth. They’re barely able to avoid the ground crumbling beneath them. Ron clutching Hermione to his chest. 

A tree snaps behind them, the crack like a cannon blast, and Draco shrieks SALAZAR SNAKES and covers his head. Harry doesn’t have time to think of a spell, he simply flings his magic out in a raw burst. Light floods his fingers, and the falling tree implodes into splinters, shards raining like wooden hail.

Draco stares at him, mouth half-open, wiping dust settling in his hair. “Keep doing that, Potter.”

“Come on, we have to keep moving.” 

They’ve finally reached the top, and there in the distance, Harry can see a few people gathered. They’re trying to close the gap in the ward. Draco is already sprinting, calling for his parents. Hermione and Ron have their wand out, Harry can see Bill and Kingsley with gritted teeth. 

Voldemort is at the centre, his wand out blasting magic at a crazed and angry Ammut. Who’s pushing his head against the magical wall with deranged intensity. 

Another rumbling roar. 

Harry feels the tug in his chest. Harder this time. A pull like a hand closing around his rib-cage and dragging him forward.

He’s got to get to Voldemort.

“Harry, wait!” 

Harry’s feet no longer belong to him. The bond calling, filling him with heat and something bright and reckless, survival, protection, his soul. 

He reaches Voldemort’s side just as the Dark Lord grits his teeth and his magic almost gives way. Harry raises his wand and throws his magic alongside Voldemort’s. 

Voldemort doesn’t turn to him, but Harry can feel him stand rigid beside him. 

“Were’nt you with the children?” 

“They’re gone and safe, far away.” 

“You aren’t.

“Neither are you!”

Voldemort’s lips twitch. 

The wards fall and Voldemort and Harry are both met with a strong force but before Harry could fall Voldemort holds him from behind keeping him steady. 

Their eyes meet for a second, and the deep down Harry can feel their bond cementing. 

Ammut roars and tears down trees, trying to climb up and get to them. Voldemort sends thunder to the stars, and multiple lightning strikes fall from the sky. Ammut is hit and he slows but doesn’t stop. His black obsidian eyes set on Harry and Voldemort. 

Harry fires a blast of concentrated raw magic, his aim is sloppy but the large burst of fire, forces its attention away from a cluster of terrified Death Eaters scrambling for better cover. Voldemort arcs a ribbon of shadow fire across its rocky back, carving a line of molten amber that spills down its spine. Ammut lunges, jaws snapping, the cavernous mouth opening wider, almost pulled back to it’s skull, revealing rows upon rows of jagged stone-teeth and a spiralling void of it’s belly that pulls at the air, at the soul like a whirlpool.

The Soul Devourer. 

Harry’s vision blurs at the sight of that mouth. The devouring maw. The endless dark. 

He refuses to die there again.

Voldemort shares the sentiment and snaps his wand arm to strike at the glowing runes etched along the edges of Ammut’s jaw. It causes a gash to its mouth and black blood rains down on them. 

If they couldn’t contain the monster, then they had to destroy it.

Harry follows the momentum without thinking, raising his wand and channelling everything, every scrap of magic, every piece of himself, into a single beam of force that hits Ammut’s dangerous tongue. The creature howls. Its body is raised and then falls with another earthquake. 

The earth gives way and Harry and Voldemort crouch low to keep their balance. 

Voldemort and Harry seem to share the same thought, and they aim their wands to the ground. Forcing the soil to wreck open and reveal the ground below. 

The others are running for better cover, and Harry and Voldemort aim at Ammut’s feet over and over. 

Ammut scrambles to climb upwards, but then Voldemort sends a final blow straight into the darkness of its being. 

It’s whole body ripples, gold scales clapping and grunting before its head once again falls and it’s feet slip—

Harry thinks it’s about to fall back where it came from, down under before it exploded with magic and light with a final echoing roar.

Harry is thrown backward by the shock-wave.

He lands hard, back hitting the ground, air knocked from his lungs. Dust swirls above him. His ears ring. His vision spins and everything hurts. 

A hand appears in front of him.

Long fingers, pale, and elegant. 

Harry reaches up without hesitation.

The moment their hands touch, the bond ignites, a sudden rich warmth that spreads across Harry’s chest, the exhaustion disappears and he feels re-energised. Voldemort pulls his upright hand out to carelessly push back the nest of Harry’s hair. 

Harry looks up at him, at their joined hands, and there’s no longer a threat to his life, but he feels more afraid than ever. 

“I promise—”

“I vowed—”

“If you gave me this chance, Potter.” 

He’s been lying to himself ever since he woke up and escaped the loop.Thinking their soulbond was nothing more than a guarantee of peace, for others, not for him. 

The night falls dark again. 

Voldemort looks out across the ruined rocky terrain, then turns to Harry. The expression on his face is unreadable, but the bond is singing the words unspoken. 

“It is over,” Voldemort says.

‏𖦹‏𖦹‏𖦹‏𖦹

7

It’s sad to watch Hogwarts in ruins, Harry can barely recognise the part that’s left standing, the towers are gone, and the lake is dried up and empty. He’s not sure where the mermans or the Giant Squid is— but the centaurs and giant spiders retreat into the untouched part of the forests. There are large cracks everywhere, he thinks even Hogsmeade and the train tracks are affected. 

The Malfoys are huddled together. Snape and Mcgonaggal stare at the horizon. Ron and Hermione run up to him for a hug, he can almost breathe normally again, knowing this part, the nightmare will finally end. 

Ron whistles under his breath. “Bloody hell, mate, we actually did it! Ended a giant monster!”

But the bond tugs beneath everything else.

Harry lifts his head and sees Voldemort standing a short distance away, speaking to Kingsley, both of them sharp shadows in the night. A surreal pairing. 

Voldemort says something low. Kingsley nods.

“We will draft the terms,” Kingsley announces, turning so everyone can hear him. “A formal cessation of the war. Amnesty negotiations and I’ll be Ministry interim. A peaceful end to bloodshed.”

A murmur ripples through the gathered crowd.

“It won’t make everyone happy,” Hermione says. 

“But it’s the best outcome.” Ron says. 

Harry tries to smile but something in his chest is twisting, pulling tight in a way that hurts. Because that can’t be all is it? He had run to him, sought him, their magic had connected in the dire times of need. 

Voldemort makes a gesture at his fellow Death Eaters, the Malfoys leave first, then the others. Bellatrix lingers but is shooed away. Voldemort stops in front of Snape.

“Your arm.” 

Snape slowly takes out his arm, with Mcgonaggal straightening beside him as if ready to strike and defend him. The Dark Mark is ugly and clear. 

Voldemort waves his wand and siphons the tattooed ink into wisps. 

“I’d rather never see you again.” 

Snape inclines his head in agreement. 

No goodbye. No glance. 

He simply turns.

His velvety red robes swiped the ground, leaving him. 

Nothing for Harry. 

The sharp pain of it knocks the breath from his lungs. Gosh he should be over this shouldn’t he? He got everything he wanted, the peace, saving their lives, saving Snape. What more should he demand from the man who was hellbent on killing him? 

Is asking for everything too much? Too selfish? 

Hermione sees immediately. Ron too. They exchange one glance and then both push Harry forward at once.

“Go,” Hermione says, “He’s being an idiot, go.” 

“I thought you would stop me.” 

“Honestly, I want to, but after all you’ve been through, can I?” Ron asks seriously, then grips Harry’s shoulders. “Go on, you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Harry doesn’t remember running, his heart racing, throat tight. 

“Wait!”

Voldemort stops mid-stride. He’s the last to remain. 

“Voldemort,” Harry says, louder now, stepping closer even though his knees feel unsteady. “You promised me—”

“For every heartbeat and soul of mine, I promise you the world.”

Harry’s chest rises and falls quickly. He hates how young he feels suddenly. How transparent his hurt is. But he’s gotten everything and is still losing, when he doesn’t want to. He won’t cry, but he won’t let fear stop him either. 

“You promised.” 

“Have I not given you the world you want?” 

“No, and you know why.” 

It feels like eternity before Voldemort turns, and crosses the rocky distance between them.

One moment he is several paces away. Next his hands are around Harry’s waist, lifting him effortlessly off the ground, pulling him tight against his chest with such force, Harry gasps and clutches his arm in return. The world blurs behind Voldemort’s shoulder. The stars only exist in the red bauble of his eyes. 

“I was not sure,” Voldemort murmurs, voice low enough that Harry feels it more than hears it, “if it was what you wanted.”

Harry’s fingers curl into the front of his robes, helpless as the bond intertwines and locks them together—and he’s not even mad about it, he’s the opposite really.

“It’s everything I wanted,” Harry whispers.

Voldemort’s hand slides up Harry’s back, an unexpectedly gentle caress, and then his lips are on Harry’s, a sweet solid kiss that floods Harry with heat and relief and the joy of tomorrow and the next day. The soulbond flares bright in his chest, singing through him, filling him, he thinks all of space knows. 

Voldemort tilts his head, deepening the kiss, thumb sweeping along Harry’s jaw and Harry sinks into it, into him, surrendering to this want, this impossible hope.

“Then I will give you the world and fulfill my promise,” he says quietly, his forehead touching Harry’s, the bond warm and certain between them. “If that is what you want.”

Harry’s breath shakes. His eyes sting. His fingers tighten in Voldemort’s robes.

“I do,” he whispers.

What would life be like as soulmates? Truly and utterly one? 

Harry has the rest of his life to find out.