t had been a sleepless night for Harry.
Between the two letters he'd received and Cain insisting he leave
immediately to track down his pack, Harry had been unable to rest.
Although he wished to keep his werewolf friend with him where he
was safe, he could not deny the need to have someone close
enough to watch Greyback, and with Remus not having sent word,
Harry was as concerned for the man as Sirius.
"Are you ready?" Lucinda asked from the doorway of his bedroom,
pulling him from his thoughts.
Closing the lid of his trunk before resizing and placing it in his
pocket, Harry turned towards her.
"I just need to speak with the others first," he explained.
Lucinda merely nodded in response, and Harry followed her as she
made her way to the kitchen where the others currently staying at
Grimmauld Place were waiting for him.
"Are you sure about this, Harry?" Cassiopeia questioned.
She was not concerned with him visiting the vampires. He had done
so already and he had parted ways with them amicably.
It was his meeting with the elves that the woman was uncertain
about.
Little was known of them, and the history shared between them and
humans was fraught with war and bloodshed.
"I am," he answered, pulling her into an embrace. "Besides, I've got
this one with me," he added, nodding towards the thunderbird
perched on his shoulder.
There would be no deterring the creature from accompanying him on
this trip.
She may have reluctantly listened when he had refused to allow her
to attend the Wizengamot meeting, but he already knew she would
not be denied this time.
It had come as quite a surprise to Cassiopeia that Harry had
somehow obtained a thunderbird as a companion, though she would
undoubtedly understand their connection more if Harry was to fill her
in on the journey they had already shared.
That, he would not do.
Already the woman worried for him, and to reveal that he had
already died and been brought back to life would likely see him
locked in a cell next to Grindelwald for his own safety.
Reluctantly, Cassie nodded.
"Be careful," she urged.
"I will be," Harry assured her. "I need you to do something for me
whilst I'm gone," he added, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.
"What is it?" Cassie asked, narrowing her eyes at him in suspicion.
"I need you to act as my proxy if a meeting is called. You are the only
one in a position to do it that I know I can trust."
"Thanks," Jonas snorted.
"They wouldn't let you in the room because of what you are and
Eleanor's family aren't exactly highly regarded here," Harry explained
to the son of a hag. "Can you do that for me?"
Cassiopeia nodded.
"I will not be welcomed fondly."
"I'm not exactly the favourite person of many," Harry pointed out with
a chuckle. "Besides, it would certainly put the wind up a few of them
to see you there."
Cassiopeia shook her head, though a grin of her own formed.
"I will do it if I need to," she promised.
"Thank you," Harry replied gratefully. "The two of you will fill in for me
if there are any Order meetings," he instructed Eleanor and Jonas.
"The Order members won't like that," Sirius pointed out.
"Then they can take it up with me when I get back," Harry returned
with a shrug. "They don't have to like it, but they will accept it."
"Anything else?" Jonas asked.
Harry shook his head.
"That just about covers everything for now," he answered. "I suppose
we should be heading off."
"We should," Lucinda agreed. "Don't worry, I'll be able to get us close
enough to the coven that it won't take us long to be there."
"Do you have a portkey?"
Lucinda shook her head as she smirked and took Harry by the hand.
The thunderbird screeched in indignation and took to the air.
Before Harry could comprehend what was happening, he felt an
unbearable coldness wash over and he was sent spinning into a
blackened void.
When he managed to open his eyes a few moments later, he found
himself laying on solid ground with his head spinning and stomach
turning nauseatingly.
"Bloody hell," he grumbled. "You know, there was a time I wanted to
learn to travel like that. I think I'll give it a miss."
Lucinda laughed at his plight as she pulled him to his feet, and Harry
had to hold on to her to prevent himself from falling over.
"Don't ever do that to me again," he pleaded.
Lucinda grinned in response but allowed him a moment to recover.
"The coven is just over that hill," she explained, pointing in the
direction they needed to head in. "Are you feeling better now?"
Releasing a deep breath, Harry nodded and the two of them began
making their way up the hill.
Neither said anything as they walked.
The last time they had spoken when they had been alone had been
the previous evening when their conversation had been interrupted.
If anything, there was no indication from the vampire that their talk
had even taken place.
She was now aloof as ever, but before Harry could raise the subject,
he spotted the familiar opening of the cave that would take them to
the vampire clan.
As before when Harry had visited last, they were greeted by a duo of
guards, both carrying swords at their hips.
Evidently, they had not expected Lucinda's presence, but neither
commented on it.
"Harry Potter," one of the vampires greeted him. "Lord Draikon has
been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Please, follow us. We have been
instructed to take you to him immediately."
With a nod, Harry and Lucinda did so, and soon found themselves
being led through the city streets at the other end of the tunnel.
Once more, Harry found himself the subject of interest as those that
dwelled within the darkness here had gathered in droves to see the
human walk amongst them.
"I would have thought that the novelty would have worn off," he
commented amusedly.
Lucinda shook her head.
"Humans rarely come here, and those that do are either quickly
turned or killed," she explained. "Well, some of them end up as
playthings for a while, but they do not walk here freely, and they
never leave."
It was a rather ominous explanation, but Harry felt confident enough
that he could escape if the need arose.
Not that he expected things would come to that.
Still, he remained cautious.
He may have been invited here by Draikon, but he was under no
illusion that most here would happily feast on him if given the
opportunity.
"Harry Potter," the voice of the clan leader greeted him as they
reached the same stairs he had been brought to during his first visit.
As ever, Draikon seemingly wished to make a spectacle of his
presence.
"Lord Draikon," Harry replied respectfully.
The vampire offered him a toothy smile as he beckoned him closer,
his gaze flitting towards Lucinda.
"As we speak, a feast is being prepared in your honour," Draikon
explained. "As before, I offer you the hospitality of me and my
people."
Harry nodded appreciatively.
"Your note made it seem that it is a matter of urgency that we meet."
"It is not a matter of urgency for me, but perhaps for you. We will get
to it momentarily. Perhaps you should explain to your parents why
you are not at school," he suggested to Lucinda.
She nodded before turning away to do as she was bid, and Draikon
watched her almost fondly as she left.
"I should have known that she would follow you," he sighed.
"I didn't ask her to."
Draikon chuckled.
"No, you wouldn't," he replied cryptically. "She has grown into a fine
young woman. Even I could not have foreseen just how she has
blossomed."
"You mean after her parents had her turned?" Harry bit back.
Draikon frowned before shaking his head confusedly.
"Has she not told you why she was turned?"
"She told me that her parents chose to be turned and brought her
along with them."
Draikon's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline.
"Is that what she truly believes?" he asked sadly. "I can assure you,
the Tarasovs did not seek out my clan because they were
enamoured with us."
"Then why did they?"
Draikon released a deep breath.
"They sought me out to save their daughter."
"To save her?"
Draikon nodded.
"The girl was born with a rare disease, one that saw her magic
mature too quickly for her body to handle," he explained. "Her
parents had been to every human healer possible to find a cure, but
one simply does not exist. It was as a last resort that they brought
her to me. In jest I said that the only way to save her would be to turn
her. Lucinda had only a matter of weeks to live before the disease
would have killed her, and reluctantly, I agreed to do it."
"Bloody hell," Harry muttered.
"They insisted that they were turned too so that they could remain
with her," Draikon continued. "They did not become one of us out of
admiration, but because of how much they love their daughter."
"You turned her?"
"I did," Draikon confirmed. "To balance out her disease with another,
she needed a powerful vampire whose own magic would be strong
enough. Despite my reservations and doubts, Lucinda survived."
"Why would they not tell her?"
"Shame, I expect," Draikon answered. "The disease the girl was
afflicted with came about because both parents each carry a
component that creates it within their children. It is a disease that
she still carries, but it is balanced by her vampirism. Take a look
around, Harry Potter. How many of my kind do you see that appear
strong? How many do you believe are capable of casting human
magic?"
Harry looked around at the crowds of vampires.
Many appeared to be weak.
"The ability for our kind to use human magic wanes once they are
turned," Draikon explained. "Some are capable for a few decades or
so, but it eventually fades entirely. Lucinda's human magic continued
to strengthen even after she was turned. I can only surmise that the
disease she carried and the vampirism found a way to co-exist within
her. Anyway, let us discuss why it is I asked you here."
Without another word about Lucinda, he handed Harry an envelope
that had been sealed with a wax crest he recognised.
With a scowl, Harry removed the letter within.
To Lord Draikon,
I write to you with an offer that I believe you will be most interested in
discussing.
It pertains to your current inability to hunt for your own blood as
decreed by the laws of the ICW.
I am certain that we can reach common ground so that you may
once more adhere to the nature of your kind without fear of
persecution or reprisals.
Please reply via the agent who carried this message to you.
I eagerly await your response and wish you and your clan well.
Lord Voldemort,
Heir of House Slytherin
Harry's burning gaze bored into the letter.
He knew of Riddle's alliance with the werewolves, the giants, and
various other creatures he managed to lure into supporting his
movement, but nothing of the vampires.
How many clans had he written to.
"He sent the same offer to me a little over a decade before he fell,"
Draikon spoke, pulling Harry from his thoughts. "I ignored it then, as I
intend to do so now. I will not endanger my clan for a fool, and not
one who will perish soon enough. Is that not so, Harry Potter?"
Harry nodded.
"He will."
Draikon grinned, exposing his fangs.
"Then I feel no concern in handing over the man that delivered this
message," he declared as he led Harry towards a nearby building
hewn from jagged stone. "He is a most curious one indeed and went
to great lengths to avoid being taken prisoner. I thought you would
be particularly interested in him as he has quite the capability of
being a difficult spy to detect."
Harry peered into the building through a barred window, his nose
wrinkling at the scent of decay that wafted under it.
His jaw clenched as he caught sight of the chained man in a mixture
of righteous fury and excitement.
"Well, if it isn't Peter Pettigrew," he greeted the rotund man.
Wormtail's expression immediately became one of terror at the sight
of Harry.
"You know this man?" Draikon questioned.
Harry nodded, his gaze never leaving Pettigrew.
"This is the man that is responsible for the death of my parents," he
explained to the vampire. "You have no idea what it is you have done
for me, Lord Draikon."
Although Harry had never met Wormtail, he had seen enough photos
of the man as a teen to recognise him instantly.
Cain had arrived in Britain with the others knowing that his stay there
would be short-lived, but he had hoped that he would have gotten a
few days with Harry before he left again.
Nonetheless, he was back on the continent now having apparated
across the English Channel into France and then home to where he
had spent his formative years.
The village had been empty.
All that had been left behind was the remains of those who had
evidently protested the movement of the pack at the last minute.
The blood splattered around the dismembered limbs was congealed,
and the smell of festering flesh meant that the pack had left days
prior to Cain's return.
Fortunately, he had the advantage of being able to apparate greater
distances than the pack could move.
Many had once been muggles, so their journey would be completed
on foot.
Still, Cain did not wish to be detected, and followed the path he
believed the other werewolves would take through the Black Forest
and into France where they would then make the journey north
towards England.
Greyback would not likely risk passing through either the
Netherlands or Belgium.
Both countries were hostile towards werewolves, and a pack as
large as his would not go unnoticed.
France was a much bigger country than both, and the rural
countryside could be taken advantage of to reach their destination.
It wasn't until mid-afternoon that Cain got his first indication that his
assumption of their route was correct.
It was whilst he was roaming amongst the thickets of the forest that
he caught the faint scent of blood some distance away, and upon
further investigation, he came across a smattering of it smeared on a
large rock.
Taking a deep sniff, he nodded to himself.
It was werewolf blood.
He had been around enough of it being spilled to know the smell
intimately.
The pack had passed through here, and though the blood was not so
fresh that he was likely to happen upon them in the coming minutes
or hours, he was undoubtedly one step closer to finding them.
With a sigh, he decided to rest for a few moments and eat some of
the food that Harry's godfather had insisted he take with him.
Cain had only shared a few brief conversations with the man, but he
already liked him well enough.
His sense of humour was similar to Harry's, and anyone could see
how much Sirius cared for him.
The werewolf shook his head as he thought back on the previous
evening when he had been packing his things.
" Why are you so loyal to Harry over your pack?"
Cain was taken aback by the question, but he could understand why
any would ask it.
" Because that lot downstairs are my pack," he answered simply.
"Harry has been loyal to us all. He brought us together, and he kept
us all safe from those that despised us for what we are. Have you
ever heard of a werewolf and vampire being friends?"
Sirius shook his head.
" It doesn't happen," Cain pointed out, "but me and Lucinda, we get
on well enough. We have our moments where our natures get the
best of us at times, but Harry is always there to fix it. He earned my
loyalty, and everyone else's."
Sirius nodded his understanding.
" I think that is how Remus always saw us," he sighed. "We figured
out quickly what he was, and he thought that we would abandon him.
Harry's father helped us all become Animagi so that we could be with
him during his transformations. This was before the Wolfsbane
potion came along. Now, there's only the two of us left. If you find
him…"
" I will bring him back," Cain promised.
He would.
If Remus Lupin was with the pack, he would find him and ensure he
returned home.
Harry watched as the rat frantically tried to escape from the glass
box he had placed it in.
He had spent much of the day pondering just what he would do with
Pettigrew, often having to curb his desire to inflict harm upon the
traitor.
More than anything, he wished to make Wormtail suffer for his
treachery, tear him limb from limb for what he had done to James
and Lily Potter.
However, as much as Harry wanted to be the one to exact revenge
for his parents, he needed Pettigrew alive to secure Sirius's freedom.
Besides, if there was any who deserved to take out their anger and
pain on the rat, it was Harry's godfather.
James and Lily had been murdered because of him, and Harry had
grown without knowing his parents, but it was Sirius who had
endured more than a decade in Azkaban with everyone believing
him to be the one to have sold the Potters out.
Sirius had known James and Lily better than anyone, and though his
intentions had been misguided, Harry understood now why he'd
done what he had.
His godfather had been heartbroken, furious, and felt responsible for
what had happened.
Harry couldn't blame him for that.
Tapping the glass with his finger, he leaned back in the chair he was
seated in.
Lucinda's parents had been gracious enough to let him stay with
them, and though Harry's thoughts had been occupied by his
prisoner, he'd attended the feast Draikon had held the previous
evening.
Flashback
" Is this one of the hundred dances you want to share with me before
I die?" Harry asked as he led Lucinda around the dancefloor.
She quirked an eyebrow at him.
" Maybe," she answered with a grin. "Maybe I will be satisfied with
this being our last."
" You don't mean that."
" No, I don't," Lucinda sighed, shaking her head. "Well, when you get
married, I don't think your wife will like me being around, and
certainly not dancing with you."
" When I get married?"
Lucinda offered him a pointed look.
" I may not be a pureblood witch, but I understand how it works. You
will be expected to get married to another pureblood, she will have
your children, and you will live happily ever after. That's what
purebloods do, isn't it?"
" It is," Harry agreed, "but I am not a pureblood. I am the Lord of two
houses, but I am beholden to no one except myself. There are no
forgotten contracts hanging over me, so as far as I am concerned, I
can and will do as I please. I will not marry anyone for political
reasons. My parents didn't."
" Your mother was a muggleborn," Lucinda murmured thoughtfully.
Harry nodded.
" My father loved her, and even though I doubt that my grandmother
was entirely pleased by his decision, he married her for no other
reason than for love. I expect most of the other families looked down
on him, but he wouldn't have cared."
" I suppose you have that in common?"
" We do," Harry said firmly. "I do not care what anyone thinks. If I did,
I would have gone to Hogwarts and began forging friendships and
alliances there. It would have made my life easier."
" Then why didn't you?"
" When have you known me to take the easy way with anything?"
Harry chuckled.
Lucinda rolled her eyes at him.
" You don't," she huffed. "Sometimes, I think you're a glutton for
punishment."
Harry nodded thoughtfully.
" I have punished myself so that I can punish my enemies," he
mused aloud. "I wouldn't change a single decision I have made."
" Not even the dying thing?"
Harry frowned.
" No," he decided, "not even that. I came out of it stronger and with
an understanding of how easily and quickly death can come for us. It
humbled me in a way I needed."
" Well, I'd rather you didn't die again, not until you're an old man."
Harry swallowed deeply at the thought.
" An old man," he muttered.
If Voldemort had his way, Harry wouldn't see his later years, but if he
managed to kill the Dark Lord, he did not know how long he would
live.
According to Healer Galanis during his last visit with the man, shortly
after he'd come of age, Harry's body and magic was only growing
stronger and his ability to heal so efficiently was astounding.
Even after some rigorous testing that should have left Harry requiring
treatment to some of his organs, none had been necessary.
Healer Galanis could not predict how long Harry may live naturally,
but his current estimate was for several centuries so long as he
avoided being murdered or contracting a fatal illness.
Even then, the man doubted any such ailment would be able to take
hold.
Both the phoenix and basilisk magic were aggressively reactive to
any other foreign substances that entered his body, which explained
why he had recovered so quickly when Crouch had dosed him with
whatever he had.
" May I cut in?"
Harry's thoughts were interrupted by Lucinda's mother.
" Will your husband not take exception to you dancing with a younger
man?"
The woman giggled as she gently pulled him away from a pouting
Lucinda.
" Only if the younger man doesn't keep his hands in a respectful
place," she whispered.
Harry chuckled as he began leading the woman around the
dancefloor.
" You dance rather well, Harry Potter," she commented.
" I was given lessons," he explained. "I think your daughter would
have been quite angry if I stepped on her toes too often."
The woman nodded and the two of them fell silent for a moment.
" She is very fond of you. I tried to warn her to curb her feelings, but I
do not believe she could."
" I know," Harry sighed sadly.
He could not forget the conversation they'd shared the previous
evening.
" Just, don't hurt her," the older vampire pleaded. "She is much like
any other of our kind, but she has managed to feel more for you than
should be possible."
" I would never hurt her, not intentionally," Harry assured her, "but
why haven't you told her why you had her turned?"
The woman looked guilty for a moment before her gaze hardened.
" It never came up," she murmured. "We always intended to tell her
about her illness, but when we were turned, we changed more than
we anticipated. I remember what it is like to feel love for my husband
and for my daughter, Harry. I love them still but being what I am does
not allow me to feel it the same way I once did. I do not expect you
to understand, nor am I trying to make excuses."
" I know you love her," Harry returned with a smile. "You love her so
much that you gave up everything just so she could have a chance
to live. I think that says more about you than you could ever try to
explain. I understand, why you did it, and I think it is the bravest and
hardest thing you've ever had to do. For what it is worth, I admire
you and your husband. It could not have been easy."
The woman offered him a grateful smile before kissing him on the
cheek.
" I will not pretend that I am pleased she has decided to follow you
into this war, but I could not stop her even if I wanted to. Just keep
her safe as best you can, and look after her, Harry. It may not seem
like it, but she is the most precious thing to me."
With that, she took her leave of the dancefloor and Lucinda returned
only a moment later.
" Did you have fun with my mother?"
" Not as much fun as I have with you," Harry replied with a smirk.
Lucinda narrowed her eyes at him but accepted his offered hand for
another dance.
" If we keep going at this rate, I think we may need more than a
hundred dances," she whispered.
Harry nodded.
" You might be right."
End Flashback
"Are you ready to go?"
"Just about," Harry answered as he shrunk the glass box and
handed it to Lucinda. "Remember, no one is to know about it until I
get back. You'll be able to portkey straight into the study."
"How long will you be?"
Harry shrugged.
"I don't know, but I don't expect the elves will want me there longer
than necessary."
"Then we should get going," Lucinda urged. "There is an elder tree
near where we arrived yesterday. I'll take you there before I portkey
back to London."
She took Harry by the hand, and the two of them made their way out
of the city, both watched by a crowd of vampires as they were
escorted through the tunnel to the outside of the cave.
"I expect we will see you again, Harry Potter," one of the guards
commented.
"I expect you will," Harry replied, offering the man a bow. "Until then."
The vampire guards waved them off, and Lucinda held onto his hand
until they reached the elder tree only a short walk away.
"I will be back before you know it," Harry assured her.
Pulling him into a tight embrace, she pressed her lips gently against
his and activated her portkey before Harry could respond.
Once more, she was being rather guarded, but Harry did not have
time to ponder that at the moment.
Not knowing what else to do, he placed his hand on the bark of the
elder tree and waited.
At first, he felt nothing, but after a few moments, Harry was certain
that the tree was almost whispering to him, that something within it
was reaching for him.
He gasped and took a step back as the trunk opened, and Ana
stepped out, dressed in what he could only assume was traditional,
elven garb.
It was a dress of the purest white, a material he did not recognise
hugging her figure, but somehow flowing around the young woman
at the same time.
She was glowing ethereally, and she smiled at him in greeting.
"Come, Illarion is waiting for you," she urged, holding out a hand
towards him.
Harry accepted the proffered limb, and he felt the air being forced
out of his lungs as she pulled him into the opening of the tree.
When they emerged on the other side, it was to a place he would not
believe existed if he was not seeing it for himself.
He could only compare it to the Forbidden Forest he had
experienced at Hogwarts, though there was no sense of danger
here.
It was peaceful, untouched nor marred by the presence of humans,
and the floral scents of the forest were so many that he could not
pick out a single one.
Harry thought he could detect a hint of honeysuckle, or perhaps
mint, but before he could be certain, each smell was replaced with
another.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"Home," Ana answered simply, a blissful smile gracing her lips.
"Come on, there's lots for you to see on the way."
As she began leading him through a trodden path between the
various trees, Harry did his best to take it all in.
Somewhere nearby, he could hear the sound of running water, and
he suspected there was a waterfall disturbing the lake he could
glimpse through the thickets.
Sporadically, he would also catch the sight of small figures, bounding
between bushes to get a look at him.
"The children," Ana explained. "They have never seen a human
before."
Harry nodded his understanding and waved at a few, though they hid
when he did so.
"They're shy."
"They're wary," Ana corrected. "Humans are not so well thought of
here. Many of my kind have fought wars against yours when they
have tried to invade our land."
"Should I be worried?"
Ana smiled as she shook her head.
"You are an invited guest," she reminded him, "but I would not do
anything that could be perceived as a threat. Illarion will not take
kindly to it."
"I have no intention of threatening your people."
"I know," Ana replied simply. "Just be careful around him, Harry. His
words may not mean much to you, but he is not someone who
wastes them."
"Sounds like Dumbledore," Harry snorted, falling silent as he spotted
a large, white staircase a short distance ahead of them.
"Where are the houses?" he asked curiously.
"You have to look for them to find them," Ana explained. "You have to
know what it is you are trying to see. It is the magic of this place that
keeps it all hidden."
Harry could only nod confusedly.
He could see no houses amongst the trees, or any other building.
His focus was on the staircase, so perhaps the magic blinded him to
everything else?
He knew not, but he could feel it all around him, a protection formed
from something he knew was there, but could not seemingly hope to
understand.
"Elven magic," Ana whispered. "It is not like human magic."
"It isn't," Harry agreed as they began their ascent of the staircase.
It took only a moment for them to reach the top where Harry was
greeted by the sight of a large elven man, his thick hair tied into a
braid.
On his hip, he wore a golden sword, and on his back rested a bow
next to a quiver of arrows.
He too was dressed in white, but the three women who accompanied
him favoured black.
The women's eyes were milky white from blindness, but each looked
at him with no small amount of curiosity.
"Harry Potter," Illarion said in just above a whisper as he
approached, his expression unreadable as he took in Harry's
appearance. "It has been many years since I have interacted with a
human that did not result in bloodshed, Inanna's father being the
exception, of course."
"I have no intention of seeing bloodshed," Harry assured the elf who
nodded appreciatively.
"You come in peace," Illarion stated. "I feel no hostility from you."
"Not towards our kind," one of the blind women broke in. "Only for
his own. Those he deems responsible for the death of his parents.
He wishes for justice, but also peace. For both, there must first be
blood."
"These are our sages," Illarion explained, gesturing to the women.
"They advise me and inform me of events outside our lands. They
spoke of you to me some time ago."
"He who thwarted death when it was a given."
"Twice now," one of the other woman interjected a little too happily.
Harry could only nod in response.
He would not pretend to understand their magic, but as with the
prophecy hanging over him, he could not simply dismiss it out of
hand.
Still, he was taken aback and rather unsettled as the trio of women
approached and began walking around him in circles.
"Both life and death flows through him," one whispered. "The everlasting and the all-consuming."
"The storm," another added excitedly. "He is blessed with the winds,
the rain, the thunder, and the lightning."
"But his foe is the one who flees death better than any," the third
murmured. "His soul torn asunder and scattered."
"Death," the first whispered as she stepped towards Harry, their
faces barely an inch apart as she breathed in his scent. "What you
need will come to you sooner than you think. The trio shall be
complete and then perhaps you can live. Neither can live whilst the
other survives, after all, Harry Potter."
Harry swallowed deeply as the woman spoke the words of the
prophecy.
For a moment, she continued to stare at him through unseeing eyes
before she reached out to him with a trembling hand.
"Death has no master, but where there is yet life, it cannot tread,"
she said as she cupped his cheek. "There is much life in you, Harry
Potter, more than you can comprehend. Should fate favour you in
the bloodshed to come, you shall live it, perhaps in perpetuity. The
girl should be allowed to go with him. She may have her part to play."
Harry did not understand the ominous words, and he frowned as the
three women took their seats once more before turning towards
Illarion who wore an expression of curiosity.
"They have spoken," he mused aloud. "Their words may hold little
meaning now, but they will one day become clear. I cannot offer you
an army. My people do not interfere in the affairs of men, but I shall
give Ana my blessing to accompany you. I often forget that she is as
much your kind as she is mine, and she should be free to make her
own decisions."
"Thank you, Illarion," Ana said with a bow.
Illarion offered her a smile before shifting his focus back to Harry.
"I would see you again, Harry Potter. When your war has been
fought, I would welcome you to hear tales of your victory. It has been
some time since I have heard stories of war, and I expect yours will
be most interesting. Humans come and go in what is little more than
a moment to our kind. I do not expect you to perish so quickly."
Ana merely shook her head as Harry looked towards her for
clarification.
"We should go," she declared.
Harry nodded before offering a bow to the leader of the forest elves.
"Thank you for you hospitality, Illarion."
"It shall be yours again, should you be victorious."
Once more, Harry pondered the ominous words spoken as Ana led
him back through the thickets of trees.
"I can see houses now," Harry snorted, pointing towards the
dwellings concealed within the forest.
They stretched as far as he could see, and in each window were
others just like Illarion, some offering him a wave, whilst others
watched him warily as he was taken from their home.
It was seldom that Albus would cry, but as he looked upon his
blackened hand, he allowed a few tears to break free and spill into
his beard.
He did not weep for his impending death, nor for his foolishness that
had led to him being cursed, but for the sister he had never truly
gotten over the death of.
" For all of your brilliance, Albus, you always were a fool."
Albus chuckled as he stared at the spot the essence of Ariana had
occupied only a moment prior.
His life traded for a few more minutes with the girl had been worth it,
and though Albus was not ready to begin his next great adventure
with the state Britain was in, he did not regret retrieving the horcrux.
The now broken ring laid upon his desk, free of the curse Tom had
placed upon, and no longer carrying a piece of his soul.
Harry would be one step closer to fulfilling the prophecy now, one
step closer to putting Tom Riddle to rest.
Albus scowled as his dying limb.
He had been fortunate that he had returned quickly enough for
Severus to slow the effects of the curse, just not in time that it could
be countered completely.
One year at best.
That was what would remain of his life, and Albus intended to use it
wisely.
Firstly, at the behest of Ariana, he would make amends with
Aberforth, if his younger brother could find it within himself to forgive
him.
Speaking with Ariana should go some way into mending the rift
between the two brothers, though if Abe expected a warm welcome,
he would be sorely mistaken.
Ariana had admonished Albus the same way their mother had when
they had been boys, and Aberforth could expect the same.
Albus smiled fondly at his childhood memories but frowned as he
was pulled from his thoughts by the flaring of the fireplace.
"Amelia," he greeted the woman as he stood, allowing the sleeve of
his robes to cover his hand. "What's wrong?"
The woman's expression was grave and she swallowed deeply
before answering.
"Cornelius was found dead at his home this afternoon, Albus," she
explained. "I cannot say for certain, but everything points to him
having been murdered. We will need to call an emergency meeting
of the Wizengamot first thing."
Albus deflated before nodding his understanding.
He had suspected something like this would happen when Tom
failed to gain political advantages.
Since Harry had arrived at the Wizengamot chambers, he had made
waves that even Lucius Malfoy could not contest.
As such, Cornelius had paid the ultimate price.
"I will be ready," Albus assured the woman.
Amelia nodded.
"I think it is best you make sure that Potter is present," she urged.
"Merlin knows he's the only one with the guts to stand up to the
others. We will need him if we are going to stop Lucius manipulating
this to his advantage."
"Indeed," Albus agreed. "I would not worry about Harry's attendance,
Amelia. I expect even your entire auror force would be able to keep
him away."
With a mere nod in response, the woman's head vanished from the
fire and Albus took his seat once more.
He felt terrible for what happened to Cornelius, but the man had
brought everything on himself.
Despite being warned at the beginning of his tenure not to involve
himself with Lucius, he had done so, and every decision he had
made since had led to his untimely demise.
Still, it was not the fate of the now former minister that would plague
Albus's mind, but what would come next.
Who would be able to replace Cornelius and prove to not be as
foolish as him?
Albus knew not, but the coming meeting would undoubtedly be
pivotal in the war against Tom.
If a suitable replacement was not found, with the Ministry and
Wizengamot in disarray, the Dark Lord would certainly seize the
advantage