Harry froze, not believing what he was seeing. Voldemort was standing there above him, looking down with a rather hungry look in those eyes. His long black robes billowing behind him even though there was no wind—he twisted his head around as he glared down at him and Harry felt sweat pouring down his face as he took a step back. He then heard a mad cackle and suddenly a woman stepped out from behind Voldemort. She was a rather old woman with a tangled mess of black hair, a yellow and wasted face, and a look of madness in her eyes.

"Why are you here?" Harry demanded Voldemort, hoping that his voice didn't sound as panicky as he felt. "Haven't you done enough damage to this place?"

"I should be asking you that," Voldemort asked lightly. "After all, you ended up destroying my castle, and killing off almost all of my servants only to come straight to this cursed kingdom. The only one I have left is Bellatrix here."

The woman cackled again at his words as she looked all doey-eyed at Voldemort. Harry fought the urge to be sick at the twisted look on her face. She then looked down at him like her master was doing and asked in a baby voice, "Oh, little baby still think that he can break the curse?" She cackled hysterically and finished by saying, "Do you think that you're the one who can wake up the princess? Wake up from your dream little farm boy."

Harry gritted his teeth. He couldn't believe his luck. They had come all this way just to be killed by these two? He wasn't going to stand for it.

Voldemort glanced at her for a moment before he looked back down to Harry and asked, "Is that true? Do you really think that all you have to do is kiss the princess? I agree—you need to wake up. True love…" he said that last word as if it was a disgusting swear word, "Doesn't exist. That you believe that one kiss will be enough to break my curse? And even if it could, what makes you think that she would want you? She has power and wealth… while you…" he sneered. "You're a boy who lives on a dirt-poor farm. You're struggling just to get by are you not? Why would she want you?"

"Just what do you want?!" Harry demanded again, trying his best to ignore all his words. "Why don't you both leave this place!? Can't you leave these people alone? They haven't done anything to you!"

"It's merely the fact that they exist that I detest," Voldemort said. He closed his terrible red eyes for a moment before he said, "All of them so happy… it made me sick. So I decided to entertain myself with seeing fear and dread in their eyes."

His eyes opened again, but instead of bright red, they turned into a pair of big, yellow eyes. "And now all I have to do is finish you off and it will be certain!"

Voldemort's body had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake as his head and body began lengthening. His shoulders were hunching over as scales were sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were merging with the rest of his body as he began to grow.

Harry watched; horrified at what he saw…

Where Voldemort once stood—was an enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, which had raised itself high in the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly as its yellow eyes looked down at him—his fangs glistening like sabers.

Harry froze, his sword—which suddenly felt about as useful as a toothpick—fell from his limp hand and let out another song-like chime as it hit the stone. Bellatrix was laughing uncontrollably as the enormous serpent—30 feet long at least—slowly uncoiled itself and stuck its tongue out to taste the air.

Harry took a step back, tripping over a stray root and scrambling back to his feet, grabbing his sword and now trying to come up with some kind of plan. But none came to mind… he didn't know what to do here… his head was blank… but then he heard it.

"Harry?" called a familiar voice behind him and he felt as if his insides were turned to ice.

"Hermione!" he yelled, "Go back! It's not safe!"

The snake then lunged forward and Harry turned and ran as the snake started after him. He didn't know what to do here. He couldn't jump down into the hole with the others for Voldemort would just come after them. He looked up at the stone walls around him—he was so close…

He turned his head to see the snake's head, its body coiling around, hitting the walls as it twisted to face him. He could see the vast, yellow eyes, see the mouth stretching wide, wide enough to swallow him whole, lined with fangs long as his sword, thin, glittering, venomous —

Harry ducked just in time as the snake struck. He could hear the rush of wind blowing past him as the head swooped over him, feel the scales slide across his hand with such speed that it felt as if was burning. He could still hear Bellatrix laughing at him and his insides burned with anger.

Pushing himself up, he ran straight at her. He glanced beside him and saw Voldemort turn his head to him—he may be bigger but he's slower. Harry then charged at Bellatrix, who suddenly stopped laughing and growled as she pulled out a knife.

Harry dodged as she threw the knife at him and went for her. Managing to get behind her, he grabbed her arm, the sword at her throat as he turned to Voldemort. If he wanted to kill him so bad, he'll have to do it by eating his servant as well. But then, as the snake lunged again, Harry couldn't believe what Voldemort was about to do. Harry let go and fell away just as Bellatrix stood there and grinned triumphantly at him… but she realized what was about to happen too late. Voldemort's mouth closed around her and her scream was swallowed whole.

Harry stared at him. He had just swallowed his own servant… ate her like nothing…

He really wasn't anything less than a monster.

Voldemort didn't seem bothered with the fact he had just swallowed his last servant as he turned back to hiss at him. It lunged again, and its forked tongue lashed Harry's side as he moved sideways.

"Harry!" screamed Ron's voice, and he turned his head to see that both Ron and Hermione had climbed up out of the hole and were staring in horror at the serpent.

"Get back!" Harry yelled at them, "It's Voldemort! He turned into a snake! Don't let that venom touch you! It's death!"

"Like hell we're leaving you here!" Ron shouted as he grabbed the mace and went slamming it with all his strength into Voldemort's side.

"We're sticking with each other—so we might as well get used to it," Hermione cried as she set fire to the end of the staff with the flint before she went and jabbed it in the snake's eye.

Though he didn't feel the mace, he sure felt the fire. With a roar of pain, he jerked his head up and pulled the staff out of Hermione's hands. Voldemort was spitting in agony, his giant head crashing into one of the walls, trying to shake the stick out of his burned eye. Harry yelled at them to move, and they did so without complaint; but not before Voldemort managed to finally throw off the staff and used his one good eye to spot Ron.

"No!" Harry shouted, and before he realized what he was doing, he had launched himself into the air and onto the serpents back where he jabbed the sword right through the thick scales. It felt as if he was on a large, heavy bag of water as he continued to put holes into it—trying to distract it. His hands were slick with blood and the snake was now trying to throw him off. He hung on as tight as he could until he heard Hermione scream.

He looked up to see that Voldemort was now going after her, but at the last second, Ron came tearing out of nowhere and tackled her to the ground so the snake ended up slamming it's head into the wall. The shockwave that had been created with as he hit the stone caused Harry to lose his balance and he fell off. Venom was dripping from its fangs as its mouth opened wide—actually causing the stone beneath it to start melting as Voldemort pulled his head out.

Gasping for breath, tasting blood in his mouth, Harry pushed himself back up as Voldemort came back to face him. Making a wild snatch for the sword he dropped, he held it up in both hands as he lunged at him again. Harry threw all his weight behind the sword and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the serpent's mouth — but as warm blood drenched Harry's arms, he felt a searing pain just above his elbow. Screaming in pain, he pulled back as the sword melted inside the serpent's mouth and he was splattered with some liquid.

Harry could hear his friends screaming his name as the snake howled in pain. Voldemort thrashed around in agony as Harry fell back to the ground. Gasping for breath he looked up to see the snake twisting it's head around in a disgusting way before it fell with a mighty crash to the ground.

Harry laid on his back, staring up at the cloudy and unmoving sky—his vision going and breathing painful. Darkness clouded his eyes as he wrenched the fang out of his arm… but he knew that it was hopeless… already he could feel himself sinking deeper and deeper into the warm dark.

"Harry?! HARRY!" screamed out Ron and Hermione's voices as they tore over the body of the dead snake and rushed over to where he lay. He looked up at their blurred faces, unable to even see their tears.

He opened his mouth and try to tell them how much they meant to him… how he never would have made it this far without them… and how sorry he was for failing.

Is this how it was going to end? Just when he came this far?

'I'm sorry, Ginny,' he thought as he fell into the warm dark, his eyes closing as sleep took over. 'I tried…'

But as his eyes closed and he felt himself fading away, he felt a warmer hand over his own cold one… and a voice that he only ever heard from his dreams…

'You haven't failed yet…'

Harry opened his eyes and he gasped. 'Ginny?' he asked her. They were floating in this darkness together, her there with him as her hair and dress blew around her as if they were underwater. She smiled, tears in her eyes as she held his hands in his own.

'It's not over for you now…' she whispered to him. 'You still have the rest of your life ahead of you. I'm still waiting for you…'

He stared up at those beautiful brown eyes and smiled back.

'I love you,' she whispered, and he reached up to touch her face.

He opened his mouth to tell her that he loved her as well, but before he could, he felt as if someone was pulling him backwards and away from her.

'GINNY!' he yelled to her and their hands were pulled apart again like last time. But this time she was still smiling.

'I'm still waiting for you!' she cried to him. 'In the tallest tower!'

And that's when it all faded. Harry had no idea how long he laid there. It could've been a few minutes, or even a couple days. He honestly didn't know anymore. Only that his body felt very weak and tired… he could hear the sounds of sniffling around him and he opened his eyes with a gasp to see that he was looking back at Ron and Hermione. Ron was very pale, Hermione had bloodshot and wet eyes.

"Harry?" she whispered, a few more drops fell from her tearstained face. "We thought…"

"I'm alright," he whispered back, suddenly realizing that he was breathing and the terrible pain in his arm had faded almost completely. He sat up so quickly that they gasped as he stared around him. They were still in the stone courtyard, the remains of the snake were still laying dead on the ground, and his friends were still leaning anxiously over him.

"What happened?" he asked, staring around him in amazement. He then remembered his arm and looked down to the puncture wound… except now there was no wound.

He held it up and stared at it, even running his fingers over the skin to make sure that he couldn't feel anything. Then he ran his fingers over his forehead and felt a sharp tinge of pain.

"What happened?" he repeated in a hoarse voice. "I thought… I was sure that…"

"We thought we lost you for sure, mate," Ron said, still looking very pale. "But look…"

He looked to see what Ron was holding and realized that it was the hilt of what was left of the silver sword. The shining blade had been melted, but the ruby-encrusted handle was drenched in some kind of shining liquid. Harry blinked at it before he looked back down at his arm and realized that the same liquid had splashed onto his own arm. "What is this?" he asked softly.

"I remember reading something like this," Hermione whispered as she stared at him. "I read once that the swords of the knights of old were special in that they contained the tears of a phoenix."

"Phoenix tears?" Harry croaked out.

"Phoenix tears have enormous healing powers," she gasped, tears falling again, but out of happiness rather than sadness. "In the old days, the knights carried the antidote to any poison or wound inside the hilt of the sword. This must've been just like it! So when the sword was smashed here…"

"I got splashed with it," Harry gasped, his heart filling up with joy as he struggled to his feet. Staring at his hands for a moment he grinned at the other two who hugged him tightly. "God, I thought I was done for there."

"Don't you scare us like that again," Hermione said, now sounding cross as she pulled away and gave him a sharp look. "If you do…"

"You'll kill me," he answered her grinning as she began howling. He hugged her again as he looked over to Ron and asked, "Ginny?"

He smiled and showed him to the door to the tower. Helping him to stand, they staggered to the door and forced it open. The palace was full of people like outside, and it couldn't have been clearer that they had no idea to what had just happened.

Ron led them through the castle, up stairs, down hallways, twice he led them through a secret passageway and over the sleeping bodies until they finally reached the foot of the tower. But as they reached it, Ron suddenly collapsed.

"Ron?" Hermione asked anxiously as she bent down with him. He looked up and still looked dazed from the beating he took from the queen statue.

"Are you…?" Harry gasped before he stared at what happened next. Hermione pulls Ron's head up and kissed him full on the mouth.

Harry stared as Hermione pulled away. Ron's jaw was wide open and he was looking stunned, gasping for breath like a fish out of water.

"Thanks," she whispered, turning bright red. "You know… for saving my life downstairs?"

He blinks before he pulls her in and starts to snog right back.

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not. But since Ron gave him such a lecture on him being with Ginny, he'll talk to him about Hermione later—who was as dear to him as a sister. He decided to leave the lovebirds there as he turned and reached the stairs alone. It was so full of plants that he was wondering if he still needed the sword that had just saved his life. But the second he set foot onto the first step, the vines parted for him. Blinking in surprise, his heart racing, he took a deep breath and began running up the stairs as fast as his legs could go.

Round and round the spiral staircase went as he continued to run. It felt as if he was just running in place for he didn't seem to be getting anywhere. As he was struggling to breath, the vines continued to part away from him until at long last he reached the landing. Collapsing for a moment on the hard stone, he knelt there, trying to get his breath back—his legs were screaming in pain and his whole body ached.

But he was here.

He looked up in time to see a single wooden door. There was no doorknob—but rather a small keyhole.

Feeling as if an electrical charge was going through his body, he slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out the little battered key. This was it…

He pushed himself back up to his feet and stared at the door before he slowly fitted it right into the hole. It fit perfectly and when he turned it, he heard a little 'click' and the key in his hands vanished only to be replaced by a door handle. Feeling as if his heart was about to beat out of his chest, he turned it and walked inside.

It was a small, dark room made from the same rough and aged stone as the rest of the castle, but the columns that held up the roof in here were elaborate with little stone rosebuds decorating them and with little cherubs carved here and there. He spotted a single candle in the only window that had the plants creeping over most of the room like veins inside a person's body.

But he wasn't noticing anything else as he stepped over an old spinning wheel that laid on the floor… if you were to look at the wheel, you could see the string that connected it was reaching over to a long bed where the spindle lay on the floor beside it.

And there she was. He pushed on forward, only the sound of his own breath accompanying him. Sleeping in the long bed with a tall headboard and beautiful drapery hanging from it, was a girl… looking just as she always did…

The vines had wrapped themselves around her like thick chains, wrapped around her arms and the bed—almost as if it was holding her there.

Slowly, he walked towards her, staring at her face. It was here. The same face that he knew so well from the dreams.

Her long red hair was spread out like a fan underneath her head, her lips were as red as a rose, and she was still in the red and green gown he had always seen her in. Her hands were clasped above her blankets, clutching an almost dead and withered rose—he silently walked over and got down on one knee to see her face better. He took one of her cold hands in his, ignoring the rose as he stared at her pale face. Though it was as pale as death and there was no breath from her lips… she looked very peaceful… as if dreaming of pleasant things.

"Ginny," he whispered. Carefully ignoring the thorns and buds, he lowered his head, and gently placed his lips over her own. He had expected her lips to be as cold as her hands were, but instead they were soft and warm… he could feel his heart racing, a slight warmth filling his body. It was his first kiss, he felt childish to admit that… but this one kiss felt like…

But before he could begin to describe how it felt, he felt Ginny's mouth opened and he pulled away as he saw her beautiful brown eyes looking at him as she took a long, shuddering gasp of air. The buds on the vines suddenly opened and her head was surrounded by roses. Breathing hard, she stared up at him and he stared back—unable to move.

Slowly she raised a shaking hand to his face and held it there, tracing his scar with her finger. It looked like lightning.

"Is it… you?" she asked, her voice sounding like music to his ears.

He took her other hand and helped her to sit up. "Yes," he said smiling. "I found you."

She blinked in amazement before she smiled back. "You came back…" she whispered. "Harry…"

"I always do," he said softly as he held her face like how she was doing with his. He smiled wider and whispered, "And I love you too."

And suddenly they both crashed their lips together in another kiss, snogging as hard as the lovebirds downstairs.

This couldn't be happening—it was too amazing, too incredible, too wonderful… every sensation was vivid and powerful: they were both painfully aware of their hearts hammering against their ribcages, and their lips seemed blister and burn…

Harry cupped her face in his hands and the kisses became softer—gentler… and then they were kissing properly, but slowly.

They both knew that the other felt the same way… as if this one moment was what they had been