The Pale Rider

Chapter Five:

It is our choices...that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities. J. K. Rowling,

It was dawn when Harry walked into the Great Halls. Before anyone had awoken, or at least shown their faces. He could tell that breakfast was still being eaten there, and knew he had much to think about over the evening, and spent it sitting by the lake, staring into its depths. He supposed it had to do with the fact of how many life changing things had happened there. There were there still seemed a measure of peace.

“Hello Ron,” Harry said, looking at the Headmaster's chair for a moment. It had not been used in quite some time. “I'm surprised you're up this early.” If Ron was suprirsed, he did not show it.

“Yeah,” Ron said, walking up next to him. “So am I.”

“So why are you?” Harry asked turning to look at him.

“Because you and I need to talk,” Ron said, motioning toward a seat. Harry looked over Ron's shoulder for a moment before looking back Dumbledore's seat. The seat appeared to be covered in cobwebs and decay. It was something that Harry thought never should have come to the seat.

“If you don't mind,” he asked, looking over Ron's shoulder once more.

“By all means,” Dumbledore said, floating beside Ron for a moment. “Its time that someone sat in it.”

“Hello Professor,” Ron said, managing to get out after the sudden appearance. “What are you two talking about?”

“Why, Harry here wants to sit in my chair,” Dumbledore said, looking at Harry once more. “He told me so a long time ago.” Harry flicked his wand toward the seat, cleaning it effortlessly. He slid his wand away once more, hiding it from the world as he spoke.

“Never thought I'd get a chance to,” Harry said with a laugh. With not another word, he leaped over the table, landing in the solid seat. He sat there in silence for a moment before letting out a breath. “Its amazing Ron, when you think about it.”

“What is Harry?” Ron said, moving around the teacher's table. He sat down in what was ironical Snape's old chair.

“That from here, you could see every single face in the hall, and stare at them,” Harry said. “God I missed this place.”

“I thought you hated it,” Ron said. “Thought it was your own personal hell. Those were your words right Harry?” He looked over at Ron for a moment. There was no venom in his words, or anger, just questions.

“There is a certain sense of wonder, Ron, that I first felt when I came here,” Harry said, closing his eyes. He took in the world around him for a moment or two, letting everything seep into his pours. “It's that wonder that I love, that I missed. I hated what this place represents to me now though, a place of the forbidden and lost hope.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that, you live here, and hold off attacks instead of attacking him,” Harry said. He motioned toward a wall. “I suspect that he got close once, too close, correct?” Ron looked at Harry for a moment before nodding. “You're a great wizard Ron, and yet you remain here hiding. Why?” Ron looked shocked for a moment, as Harry could only smirk.

“Let me ask you a question first, Harry,” Ron said as a bowl of food appeared before him. Ron ate slowly as Harry watched; he had pushed away his own bowl, picking up the habits of Mad-eye. “You left, I understand why you left, but why didn't you come back?”

“I really don't want to talk about that,” Harry said, looking at the bowl of food in front of him. Thinking of the hunger that was hitting him for a moment, he reached inside a pouch upon his belt and pulled out a bit of jerky. He began to eat it slowly.

“Why not?” Ron asked, before Harry held up his hand.

“Let's just leave it as I made a mistake,” Harry said. “One that took me a while to correct.” Ron nodded, before speaking once more.

“Why is Hermione angry with you?” Ron asked. “She was in a right state last night, and it took us ages to calm her down.” Harry looked over at Ron for a moment before returning to the bowl of porridge in front of him. “You going to tell me what happened?”

“To be honest, I wanted to know when you were going to tell me,” Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. He tried to show an air of indifference, but failed.

“Tell you what?” Ron asked. Harry gave him an odd look before motioning from him to continue. “She was mad, but it seemed she was more upset than anything else.” He continued on. “The only other time I've seen here like this is when you first left us Harry. She was barely bearable then, and now…” Ron's voice trailed off as he laughed a bit. “I'm telling you, she's gotten worse this past year. Not a day doesn't pass that I don't here about something regarding you in one way or another.”

“And that a bad thing?” Harry asked with a smirk.

“Not at all,” Ron said, smiling as well. “But when you consider the fact that one minute she's worrying over you, the next she's cursing your name into oblivion,” both of them began to laugh a bit at this. Harry could see Hermione do that, especially after their conversation in the hospital wing. It seemed she was slightly lost, without direction.

“I guess, I still, my question bears answering,” Harry said, leaning back slightly. The chair was about as comfortable as he imagined; the charm built to last he supposed.

“What question was that?” Ron asked, finishing off his bowl and eying Harry's.

“When were you going to tell me?” Harry asked, passing the bowl to Ron. He began to eat it almost immediately.

“Tell you what?” Ron asked, as he took a bit.

“That you and Hermione were engaged,” Harry said, simply. It took him a moment to realize that Ron had begun to choke. He patted him on the back as Ron swallowed the porridge. The laughter followed almost immediately.

“You're kidding me right?” Ron said. “Bloody hell mate, if I thought you wanted to scare me, I wouldn't eaten so much. Damn near shit myself.”

“Wait,” Harry said, holding up his hand. Ron had stopped speaking, or rather, words stopped coming out of his mouth as Harry held up his hand. After a moment of thought, Harry managed to gather his words. “You're not marrying Hermione, but what about the ring on her finger?” he put his hand down so Ron could answer him, though truth be told, he did not want to know the bloke who gave it to her.

“You've got to show me how to do that,” Ron said, look up at Harry, when he realized it he could speak again. Harry gave him a glare before Ron chuckled lightly. “But in all seriousness, I don't have a clue who it is. Just one day, after I asked her out, she showed up wearing it. If you want my opinion, its Krum's ring, but she keeps denying it.”

“How long ago was this?” Harry asked, leaning back in his chair. He let out a defeated sigh, knowing that he may not be able to manage any more blows like that.

“A few months, after that James Evans guy showed up here,” Ron said. “You asked me why I hid, because I don't have a faith in our side anymore Harry. I'm just scared, that's all that's left of me, of the Order.” Harry nodded, and looked at Ron for a moment, then around at the room.

“It is the order of the Phoenix, Ron,” Dumbledore spoke for a moment. Both of the men had forgotten that he was in the room, and Harry was thankful that his mentor remained. “We were meant to rise from the ashes of the old, and grow, stronger.” His gaze turned to Harry directly. “The phoenix is a symbol of hope, it always has been, always shall. For as long as there is but a single flame left to burn, the phoenix shall rise once more, and hope shall be restored.”

“Interesting way of putting our situation, Professor,” Hermione said as she walked into the room. “But I hardly doubt that we are without hope.”

“Not any more,” Dumbledore said with a twinkle. “My time grows short Harry, I best rest before my journey.” Harry looked at his mentor for a moment before nodding. He withdrew a small cup from his belt, and placed it on the table. With his wand appearing out of mid-air, he enlarged the cup. Dumbledore floated over to the cup.

“It'll be good to rest,” Dumbledore said. “But I will return, if but for a little while.”

“I know,” Harry said. He felt the tears coming, but with a slow closing of his eyes and deep breath opened them once more. “I'll never find the right words to thank you sir.”

“Harry my boy,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “You do not need them yet.” With that, Dumbledore flew into the air, twisting into a silver string before falling once more into the depths of the cup.

“What is that Harry?” Hermione asked moving closer to the table.

“I told you that it's a long story Hermione,” Harry said with a sad smile. “One that spans further years than your own.”

Hermione looked at him for a moment, before moving onto something else that appeared to be bothering her. “Why did you run away yesterday, Harry?”

“I overreacted to something,” He said, looking at a goblet on the table. “It comes from being away for so long.” Hermione nodded, before beginning to speak again.

“But what did I say that made you run Harry?” She asked. Tears were forming in her eyes as she spoke.

“Whose ring is that Hermione?” Harry asked in a small voice. “Who gave it to you?”

“What?” Hermione said taken back by the question.

“I'd like to know who gave you the ring,” Harry said, pointing toward the one on her hand. “Someone must have given it to you, or you bought it, but you were never one to buy jewelry.” Harry stared her down for a moment.

“I didn't buy it Harry,” she said, staring right back. “And what business do you have asking me of personal things, when you yourself won't talk of them?” Harry was caught in a bind, but knowing Hermione, or at least he thought he did, he was going to take a gamble.

“When you're ready to talk about that,” Harry said, rising from the table; he pointed at the ring upon her finger. “I'll tell you my story.” He walked around the table slowly. “Until then Hermione, I will be content with memories, as I have been these past decades.” He stopped in front of her for a moment before walking by. His words had sunken in, they were being digested now. It was only a matter of time. Maybe. He hoped.

Harry continued walking, knowing that neither would be coming after him. He wanted to be alone, despite his wish being granted, or living to see Hogwarts again, he wanted to be left alone.

“ `ello Harry,” Hagrid said, as Harry exited to the grounds. “Its been quite some time, hasn't it?”

“Yes Hagrid,” Harry said, stopping to look at the gentle giant for a moment. “I'm surprised your still talking to me.” They began to walk together, toward the lake.

“You had good reasons to leave, Harry, Dumbledore told me that,” Hagrid said. “Though I must admit that you've arrived a bit earlier than I thought you'd be.”

Harry raised his eyebrow at this. “What do you mean?”

“To be honest, I remember, back from my school days Harry, and I caught a conversation you were having with Dumbledore once,” Hagrid said with a smile on his face. “You were younger Harry, back then, didn't look so old.” Harry was a little surprised at this revelation; he had done everything he possible could to hide from anyone who might have known him. “Bit surprised myself, though, never knew it was you until you showed back up today.”

“Delayed memory charm,” Harry muttered, knowing the spell. He had used it dozens of times after Dumbledore had taught him it. Hagrid looked over at Harry for a moment, before continuing speaking. Harry's eyes remained on the lake, the changing of the tides that surrounded them.

“Not why I got you out `ere though,” He said. “You should really tell `ermione where you've been.”

“You're probably right,” Harry said, looking out to the lake. “But I won't. Not yet at least.” He stepped forward for a moment. “I suggest you return inside Hagrid.”

“what for Harry?” He turned to see the gentle giant preparing his crossbow. As Harry drew his gunblade, he turned to face the lake once more.

“They're coming,” he said, preparing his body for the onslaught it was to receive.

I0I

“How dare he?” Hermione said in a puff of anger. “How dare he waltz in here and think everything is fine?” Ron sat back, and let her vent once more. “He never answered any of my questions, he just asked his own, and changed the subject.”

“Hermione, he's been gone for a year,” Ron said. “He's had to have changed in that time. I mean come on look how old he looks with his hair like that.”

“He looks wiser to me,” Hermione said offhandedly. She thought back to him, and how he was able to pierce her almost with his stare when it was focused on her. She shivered slightly at the thought and thump in her heart.

“That's beside the point Hermione, you said it yourself that he left you, why are you doing this to yourself over him?” Ron asked. She waved him off, refusing to answer the question.

“But you can't get that type of hair in just a year,” she said, muttering it almost. Her eyes shut up, staring back the seat Harry had just been in. “He said decades.”

“What?” Ron asked. “Hermione, you're going to have to speak up.”

“What's she going on this time about?” Ginny asked snidely. Hermione shot Ginny a dark look, before turning back to face Ron.

“he said decades Ron, decades,” Hermione said. “As in a measure of ten years?” Ron looked at her for a moment.

“What the hell are you going on about Hermione?” She turned and glared once more at Ginny. “He's a coward, running away from us again.”

“He is not a coward,” Hermione said through gritted teeth. Ron stood up from his chair before taking a step back. He did not like where this fight was going, and he most certainly did not want to get involved.

“Really, why would he leave us?” Ginny asked. Hermione opened her mouth to respond before closing it once more. “He left us.”

“No,” she said firmly, trying to beat the demons that had plagued her for weeks. “He left you. He never left me.” Her hand went to the ring upon her finger as she spoke, shaking her head. “He never left me.” She felt like something was blocking her, blocking her mind from doing something, from saying something that she had wanted to say for so long that she forgot what it was she wanted to say.

“Face it Hermione,” Ginny said, with a snarl almost. “He hates-” She never finished as the body of man came crashing through the stonewall of the Great Hall.

Hermione had her wand drawn almost immediately as a black fog seeped into the Hall. He could see the massive form of Hagrid backing up as he entered the Great Hall, providing them with cover fire. She rushed over to the body of the man as he began to stir. Ron had already begun to return the spells sent toward them and Ginny had run off, presumably to grab the others.

Hermione gasped slightly as the man began to rise up. Harry was battered almost broken it would seem from the blow that he had been tackled with. As he stood through, his tattered shirt fell and she once again could see the tattoo upon his back. His wounds looked vicious, but he did not move as if they hurt, on the contary, he stood taller and stronger than anyone she had ever seen.

“I'm sorry,” Harry said, staring out into the fog. Hermione looked up at him once more. “You shouldn't have to see this.”

“See what?” Hermione said, turning to face the direction of the fog. She felt a coldness surround her as the fog swept further into the Great Hall. Some of it had begun to form around in a cloak of sorts, covering him almost from head to toe. The solid of the cloak formed as the coldness began to grow.

Harry drew his gunblade and held it in front of him, as if ready to parry some kind of attack that was coming his way. Hermione steeled herself as best as she could, not knowing what was to come.

“I didn't want to you see,” he said again, this time, slicing through he air with the gunblade. The sound of screams echoed through the air. “I'm sorry,” he repeated, louder this time as a wind blew past them.

“To see what?” Hermione nearly screamed as she saw a small mass of figures approaching. They limped as they walked it appeared, or rather dragged their body's along. “Inferi,” she whispered to herself.

“Death, Hermione,” he said softly. He turned to look at her for but a moment. A moment in which the world stopped, everything did not move. Everyone except for Harry. “I didn't want you to see the Death I've become.”

With a lurch forward it seemed, Harry attacked the Inferi with speed and grace she had never seen before. In less than a moment, he had sliced through one, and shot the head off of another. She steadied her wand as she began her own attack. And attack she did not know if it would success or fail.

For as she attacked, it became apparent they were outclassed. Whoever had enchanted the dead bodies to attack them had done well enough to prevent easy defeat. It was Harry alone that seemed to be causing the most amount of damage. Even then it appeared that they were failing. The wall she had seemed to be pounding in her mind as she attacked again and again.

“Where the hell is Ginny?” He screamed as he fired off another round into the undead. Hermione looked back at him for a moment before turning back to her own defense. She had yet to successful take one down, and it was not for lack of magical ability. It was as if they seemed resilient to the spells that she was casting upon them, though how she did not know.

“God damn it!” Harry screamed, slicing through another one. He slide up beside her for a moment. “Hermione, where are you in there?” he said, turning to face her for a moment. She felt the wall inside her weaken, if but for a moment. “She's doing it again isn't she?” Harry asked. Without waiting for an answer, he leap away, letting her continue her assault alone as Harry took a few more of the Inferi.

He returned this time staring her down once more. She shrunk underneath his gaze, if but for a moment. “No, its not her, she may have done something, but she did not cause this,” he said to himself. “Hermione, I need you to do something for me.”

“Can't it wait?” She screamed as he spun to kill the ones sneaking up on him, or a least trying to. He quickly shot down the ones attacking Hermione from behind for a moment before continuing.

“No.” His voice was final, and he made no movement to take the Inferi down once again. “Sleep.” His voice commanded, and she felt her eyes growing heavy. A pair of strong arms caught her as she fell to the ground, and vaguely, she saw the Inferi disappearing, one by one, as if they were never there. The black cloak Harry was wearing faded into the disappearing darkness, and she felt the world slipping as sleep overcame her.

“Rest well love,” she heard Harry whisper to her. “Rest well. One battle is done.” She did not respond, as her body had given into exhaustion. With that, darkness fell