The Pale Rider

Chapter Nine:

Harry steepled his fingers as he sat in Dumbledore's chair. He looked through the dark room, lit only by the small fire he started when he first entered. It gave little warmth but that was of little concern to him at the moment. He had found something of interest while life passed by at Hogwarts. Cancer has a dormant sense about it sometimes, others uncontrollable. The dark cancer that had infected Hermione, he had contained. He had stopped it and relocated it. Now he was about to face it. Taking the small vial that held the cancer, he placed it on the desk, staring at it. He knew how to fight it, for his training had left him as anything but ill-equipped.

Reality seemed harsher though than what he had been trained to do. The world was not as black and white as the monks had taught him, and he knew that from the gifts he came to possess he would have to be the one to make the first decisions. And here he was at the crossroads.

He palmed the vial as he walked around the desk before throwing it to the ground. The black smoke that had danced in the vial now floated around the room, giving a dark shape to the shadow. “Welcome,” Harry said, leaning against the desk. He could see the shadow dancing about, as if to find a place to escape, but it found none. He was glad the wards held, his and Dumbledore's from ages ago.

“What is this?” The shadow spoke, in a low rumble. It was not unlike the clouds crashing together at it spoke, as light did appear moments before the shadow spoke. “Where am I? Where is the girl?”

“So many questions from someone not in control,” Harry spoke in a calm voice, crossing his arms.

“Do you know who you are dealing with?” The shadow said. It gathered form as it rose into the air the thunder of its voice growing, shaking the room. “I am Fear. I am the one that men of steel and courage tremble before.” At this an image stepped from the shadow. Harry closed his eyes before opening them, refusing to give into the shadow's power. He refused to accept the figure of Hagrid, carrying a battered and broken Hermione. He looked at the image once before turning skyward, as if to glare at the shadow.

“And I am Death,” Harry spoke. His voice did not quake, nor did his gaze falter as he spoke again. “Death does not follow the fear of the people, for I am the one that can release them from your power.”

“If you were truly Death,” Fear spoke, circling around Harry. “Then the image would not have fazed you. But it did, I could sense it.” Harry only glared at the shadow before speaking.

“And as can I sense your fear,” Harry said, reaching his hand out to grasp the shadow in his hand. The clouds moved around his hand, as if Fear flinched away. He felt the burning in his shoulders grow as he stood up. He released them from their binds as the room lit up with the flames upon his wings. “The girl is no longer of your concern. She is under my protection, and you best remember that. Tell you comrades in arms that as well.”

Fear slid back from him, floating in the center of the room. A form appeared, of a black man. He wore crimson suit, with a blood red tie and black shirt. He stood waiting for Harry to make the next move, but he waited in vain. The two stared at each other, Harry glad to see the form of Fear for the first time when Fear spoke. “What is it that you wish of me, Death?”

“I must know the man that sent you here,” Harry said. “You are natural being, a champion among those like you I assume.” Fear nodded his knowledge as Harry continued. “Who sent you to crush my friend? Not one of mine?” He spoke slowly. Fear looked at him for a moment, understanding Harry's pause in the question. There was fear, but not of him, but of the betrayal someone would bring to him. IT was not a fear that Harry was worried about, and Fear studied Harry for a moment before responding.

“No, but one of yours made it all the easier for entering the girl,” Fear spoke.

“Hermione, her name is Hermione,” Harry said, interrupting Fear. “You should be glad for that assist; for I doubt that you could enter her without it.” Fear nodded in agreement.

“Tis true, however, I am afraid that it would have had to be several years ago for long as this been effecting her.”

“Wish to impart them to me,” Harry said, letting his wings relax as he notice Fear's uneasy glare at them.

“What shall I get in return?”

“It depends on the answer.” The two stared at each other, as if to find the answer from the other.

“The young redhead girl, it was she that had infected Hermione with those toxics,” Fear said. “On one level, they are harmless by themselves.”

“Ginny was never that great at potions,” Harry said, without emotion. “Together they allowed you entrance.”

“Correct. However, I am surprised that you found my outward attacks so easy to thwart.” Fear started to walk in a circle. Harry copied him and the men found them circling each other. “Tell me how and I shall continue.”

Harry could not help but smirk at this. “For a man of described power, you sure use a lot of smoke and mirrors to get your work done. It was rather easy to decide when one of my Patroni did not kill the Dementor. I've been able to do that for several decades now.” Fear now returned the smirk.

“And yet I grew stronger, we feed off the fear as they do, but ours is not a dark purpose,” Fear said. “Courage without fear is foolishness. You are filled with it, but it is not of me.”

“No, you I can relate to,” Harry said. There was a pause in conversation, but it did not last long. “I think I've decided what to do in regards to your current position.” Fear's eyes peaked at this as he had been studied the remains of one artifact or another on the wall of Dumbledore's office. “I'll let you go, but leave this place alone, and leave my people alone.”

“We could help each other,” Fear said, but Harry could only glare. “

“The deal is not negotiable,” Harry said, his wings flexing as their fire nearly burnt the stone walls. Fear looked at him, barely fazed at the quiet outburst.

“Very well,” Fear said, holding out his hand. “I shall respect your wishes, for I doubt you could kill me….”

“But I'd make death seem pleasurable by all means,” Harry finished as he shook the hand. “If you need assistance in anyway, call on me.”

“And the same to you.” Fear said. As the handshake was broken, Fear folded back into the shadows he was made of before. The wards were temporarily dropped as Harry allowed Fear to leave. “You shall not have to find me should you need me.” Those were the final words that Fear spoke as he left. Harry nodded, and collapsed against the desk.

The outburst of magic was not something he was used to. Normally it was he was entirely in his phoenix form, or not. He had rarely been a combination of the two, and now felt the toll of it. He turned his back to the stairs as he leaned against the table, feeling the wings meld back into him. He let out a gasp of pain as they receded, but other than that he was silent. However, Hermione who had taken the express moment of Fear leaving chose to come running up the stairs to see him in pain.

Dammit. He thought to himself as he left out a groan from the shift in his body weight. He had not properly eaten the last few days, mainly attending to Hermione, and his body had remained rigid for a great deal of time as well, occupied with her safety as well.

“Harry!” She rushed over to him as he nearly fell to the floor. He could stand, just not very well at the moment he found. He must have been surviving on his magical reserves as he was prone to do back in his training. Fear must have seen this, and yet still, Fear was afraid of him. Why? He did not have long to ponder the question as he felt Hermione wrapping her arms around him, in an effort to help him stand up and to keep herself from falling.

“I'm sorry for the way I treated you,” she said, her head buried in his chest. He gathered his strength to wrap his arms around her. “You did everything in your power to save me, and look how I treated you.”

“Its okay,” Harry said, as she pulled back. “You're safe now, that's all that really matters.”

“Not to me,” Hermione said, letting go of him completely. Harry steadied himself against the desk as she stepped away from him. “Our friendship is what matters, and I've nearly destroyed it.”

“Hermione please, its okay, I just-” Harry started but was again cut off by her.

“No its not,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm not going to say I understand everything you've done Harry, over the last several years, but I want you to know I'm here for you now, and you can't push me away from you again. I'm going wherever you are you going.” She pulled back and he smiled at the look of finality on her face.

“I'm not leaving here for a while,” Harry said, hiding the heat of pain running through his body. “But you'll have time to prepare when I do.” He gave her a smile before almost collapsing on her. “I'm sorry.” He tried to pull himself back up and move away, but found no strength to do so. Hermione nearly cried in fear as she wrapped her arms around him tighter.

“What did you do to yourself Harry?” She whispered as she laid him onto the table. He felt her lean over him as the room stopped spinning. He was partially surprised at her keeping her wits about her, but the fear evident in her eyes told him she was probably more scared than he had ever seen her. He reached for her hand, gripping it gently.

“A little exhaustion,” he managed to get out. “Nothing a little sleep won't fix.” He felt his body relax, but his grip remained on Hermione's hand as she tried to pull away. “Stay, they'll come for us in a bit.”

“I won't leave you,” She said, kissing his forehead. He knew that she wouldn't leave him, not that it mattered. He never sleep easily to begin with.

IOI

Hermione sat next to him for an hour or so, just watching him. She had barely moved, except to remove the crease in his brow as he sleep. Whatever had troubled him passed as she wiped it away from him. She was still unsure of herself around him, now more than ever because of his state and being alone with him, but something about him made her no longer fear much. His confidence exuded from his very being, a feat she had seen only in the late Headmaster.

“He seems to have relaxed,” Dumbledore said, causing Hermione to jump slightly. She nodded, brushing away a hair as he moved.

“He is,” Hermione said, before turning to look at the Professor. “What….what did he do for me?” Dumbledore floated over to Harry's side.

“He would have sacrificed everything he had for you, Hermione,” Dumbledore said with an odd look in his eye. The twinkle was calm, as if sadden when he looked down upon Harry. “His parents would be proud of him.”

“I'm proud of him,” she whispered softly.

“It would be wise to tell him then when he wakes,” Dumbledore said. “He did not hear that as often as a young man should.” Hermione looked at the professor and for the first time, noticed the faded look he had gained in his current form. It was not as vibrant as when Dumbledore had first returned to them, nor was it as opaque. She could not see through the professor, and began to realize the coming events.

“How did he get you to come back?” Hermione asked the question that had been plaguing her. Dumbledore gave her a small smile.

“Harry has found a way to return a single soul to this world, a way to make come back for only a short time,” Dumbledore said. “It takes a strong soul to realize the restrains one has in this form.” Dumbledore looked down at his hands. “One can not touch those you love; one can not part take in the joys of life. He had a strong choice to make while he did this, and he made one of the hardest decisions of his life.” His gaze was raised from Harry to her. “Well second hardest.” The question she had was left unasked as she found a new one to speak.

“Where did he find out how to do this?” Hermione asked, awe etched on her face.

“It was a part of his training with his totem spirit.” Dumbledore's smile grew on his face. “It took him years to perfect the transformation, and now he is one with the spirit. It was only last year that he finally completed it, and only afterwards did he bring me back, if but for a short time.”

“Sir, why did you call him Fawkes, I mean Fawkes has been gone for about six months now,” Hermione said, looking back down at Harry. “Unless he, and Fawkes…” Her voice trailed off as Dumbledore nodded.

“Fawkes gave his life, his eternal lives for Harry, to ensure his rebirth into the man you see here,” Dumbledore said. “Harry can still die, but it takes a great deal for force and evil to do so. Mortal wounds are not as effective as if he has to, he may burn them away so to speak.

“It is amazing, if you think about it, how much he has given up to be here today,” Dumbledore said, but as he saw the look on Hermione's face, he gave her a sympathetic smile. “He told you of the exile he had cast himself in, but you do not truly understand the pains the monks put him through. To any lesser man, it would have killed him. To Harry, to your Harry, it was a means to an end. It was only at the peak of his pain did he start to learn his totem spirit. The monks did not teach him of the spirit, rather, they only forced him to become one with the spirit to stop the pain.”

“Did it?” Hermione looked down at Harry's brow, creased once more. She ran her fingers over his brow, and the content smile returned to his face.

“In a way,” Dumbledore said with a sigh. “The monk who oversaw his training never finished. He was killed in a fire that engulfed the entire monetary, yet he was the only causality. The fire itself was truly like the phoenix, for it burned the wicked and healed the sick.” Dumbledore smirked at this. “Though Harry never spoke of it, I believe it haunts him to this day. He does not kill, for the sake of his name.” Dumbledore took a step back from Harry, the smile hidden by the bluish shadows on his face. “More for mercy, he has ended a life, but there are times when he walks hand and hand with Fear and strikes out against someone. Those times, are few and far between, but the results…..” Dumbledore's voice trailed off.

Hermione looked down at Harry once more, slightly surprised to see his eyes open. “Tell them to leave.” Harry whispered in a hoarse voice. Hermione felt him squeeze his hand as he spoke again. “Or I'll make them.” At this she turned to see an irate Mrs. Weasley being held back by Ron and Neville.

“How dare you?” She spoke, glaring daggers at Harry. Hermione stood up, moving in front of him. “How dare you do that to my daughter?”

“I suggest you leave Molly,” Hermione said. She could feel Harry getting up behind her. “Harry, you will be hurting a lot worse in a few minutes if you don't lie back down.”

“Yes, Mione,” he said. She heard Dumbledore snicker behind her, but reserved her glare for the woman in front of her.

“How dare you tell her you love her, and then leave her for this whore?” Mrs. Weasley said, pushing off her son with a sudden rush of aggression. Harry sat upright and was stopped from rushing across the room at Mrs. Weasley by Hermione's hand upon his chest. He looked at her, and she could feel the anger rolling off him in waves.

“I dare to understand the truth,” Harry growled. All but Hermione and Dumbledore took a step away from him, as his face contorted with anger. “I dare spit the devil in the eye, call him a bastard and kick him in the balls before breakfast.” There was a pause; the only sound was Harry's staggered breaths. “You better get hold of a pensive and find out the truth, Molly,” the name was spoken with venom and spite, similar to the tone she used addressing Hermione. “None of you can handle the truth of the world you've been hidden from over the past year. The hell Voldemort has been causing. The hell he is going to cause.

“Ask your daughter what she gave me the summer before our sixth year? Ask her what lies she's been feeding Hermione over this past year?” Harry looked at Ron for a moment before continuing. “Ask her what potions she poisoned Hermione with before you question what rights I have.”

“Leave now,” Hermione said, now effectively holding Harry up. The strength he had gained from his short nap was gone.

“This isn't over,” Mrs. Weasley screamed. It was then that Ron proved his friendship to them.

“I'm afraid it is mother,” Ron said, looking between her and Harry. His mother stopped struggling against them at once, the words hanging as echoes in the air. “War is among us, mother, and I'm tired of running from it. Justice will return to Hogwarts mother. I am not going to stand by while our family, my sister, runs it into the ground.”

“At last,” Dumbledore said with a defeated smile. The room turned to stare at him, all but Harry. “At last you finally understand what needs to be done. The journey will be long, no doubt, but have faith in your quest.”

“What are you talking about?” Neville asked, stepping forward.

“My time is up,” Dumbledore said. A bell rang through the room, echoing before ring twice more.

“And with the ringing of the bell thrice, the passing of the Ghost of the Past shall to fade,” Harry said, turning to now face Dumbledore.

“Christmas Past no doubt Harry,” Dumbledore said a smirk on his face, a small joke passing between the readers of literature. Hermione was the only one who saw the small tears in his eyes as Harry spoke, but to her his eyes were filled with peace and calm. “I am sorry there was not more that I could have done.”

“What do you mean?” Mister Weasley asked, stepping forward. “You're leaving, again?” The bewildered look on his face was matched on the rest of the Weasleys, all but Ron who seemed to understand.

“I must,” Dumbledore said. “But I must.” He turned his back to them. “Harry, to live, that is the great adventure. Remember that Harry.”

“I will Albus,” Harry said. Hermione caught his stumble, holding him up again. “And tell my parents, thank you.”

“They've always heard you Harry,” Dumbledore look back them once more before walking toward the wall. His ghostly blue façade faded away. “Good luck to you all and God speed.” He said before he had hit the wall. With the final words of Albus Dumbledore as he passed onto his own next adventure, Harry gave Hermione a smile.

“It's only going to get worse,” Harry said as Hermione helped him back onto the desk. She had transfigured it into something more comfortable for him to lay on, and then turned toward the Weasleys.

“From here on out, this is Harry's room,” she said. “You may enter, but only on his command and his word alone.”

“Who are you to do say such things?” Mrs. Weasley said, speaking with renewed venom. Hermione glared at her, but could only squeeze Harry's hand. She really did not have any right to say what she had, but it felt right and it felt true.

“Hermione,” Harry said, with staggered breaths. “Let…go…of my hand.” She did as he asked, but stayed next to him, watching him careful. She took a step back as she watched him levitate off his bed. His body rotated until it was perpendicular to the ground and he stared at Mrs. Weasley, her contempt dwarfed by his.

“The Order will rise again, Molly,” Harry said, floating toward her. Hermione watched the air around him wave as the heat rose in the room. “Death be not proud, Molly, Death, be not proud.” His wings sprung from his back with a fury she had never seen and he lowered himself to the ground. The Weasleys had begun to back away, at least all but Ron did. “One shirt sleep past, we wake eternally, and death shall be no more; Death shall die.” Hermione watched as his head drooped. “This war will end, on my terms, no one else's.” Harry's head shot back up. “Now LEAVE!” The force of his voice knocked the Weasleys out of the room, and Hermione thought they would have hurt themselves, yet they landed on a staircase of pillows. Ron laughed at the sight as he followed them down, but not before giving Hermione a knowing look.

Hermione rushed over to Harry's side, catching him before he fell. “You shouldn't have done that.”

“They'll leave us alone for a bit.” Harry said with a smirk. Hermione levitated him back onto his bed, smiling slightly at his antics. “Besides, it'll give you time to remake this place.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Harry managed to say. He began to drift off and Hermione could only watch his peacefulness return with a smile. “Life is comes in twos, Hermione. Life comes in pairs.” He let out a yawn and she could feel him relax. Letting go of his hand, she left her analysis of his words for another time. She had more important things to worry about, specifically the task he gave her.

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