Unofficial Portkey Archive

Author's Note: Thanks as always for the great reviews! I'll admit I'm slowing down on my posts because my work load has been insane, but when I find the spare time I can promise you that finishing this story is a priority of mine.

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CHAPTER 20: Self-Serving

When Harry awoke he turned to seek out the warmth of his lover, but instead was greeted by an empty bed, the sheets already cold. Despite the fact that he was feeling groggy he already knew where she had gone; the library. He sighed and sat up, running his fingers through his unruly black hair. He knew what he needed to start doing, and he knew time was of the essence. He hadn't talked to her about it yet because it was a mission he didn't want her there for. He had his reasons- oh so many of them- but he knew she would not take no for an answer, and ultimately she would get her way. Slowly moving out of the bed he stood in front of a long mirror and gazed evenly at himself. He was only in his boxers and his exposed skin revealed a rough landscape of scars. These were the scars that she would inevitably learn more about if she came with him.

She'll find out who you really are Potter whispered a voice in his mind that sounded eerily like Riddle. He reached for the pendant around his neck, toying with it in his hand. It was strange, but in that instant he wanted to talk to Riddle. Alarmed by the urge he dropped the pendant and instead let his gaze veer off towards the black stain just right of his heart. It was a little bigger than it had been yesterday, and he imagined that Madame Pomfrey would be looking for him soon with a dose of her new potion.

Pulling his clothes on he decided it was time to get on with living, or get on with dying. Depending on which way you look at it that voice whispered again. He shoved the pendant down the front of his shirt so it was out of sight, but he could still feel it against his skin.

He delayed the inevitable by first finding Madame Pomfrey, who gave him several weeks' supply of the antidote along with stern instructions. The makeshift hospital wing was now deserted and Pomfrey had to be getting back to the neglected students at Hogwarts. Harry thanked her for her services and then she was gone into the floo with a blast of green flames.

He headed to the library, feeling heavier with each step. The black hallways of Malfoy Manor echoed with each step he took, as though sounding off the remaining seconds of his life. It was strange how familiar he had become with Draco Malfoy's macabre home. Despite his familiarity with the layout, there were still many wings and passages he knew nothing about. This is why he nearly jumped out of his skin when Ron Weasley suddenly stepped out of the shadows.

"Bloody hell Ron, you almost scared me to death."

"From what Hermione just told me, you're almost there anyways." Ron's tone was an attempt at sounding light but instead came out as a mixture of fury and sorrow.

"Ron I- I just found out last night. I was going to tell you but…."

"But how do you tell your best mate you've got a rapidly approaching expiration date?" Ron asked, and Harry was relieved when he realized that Ron understood. "There's not exactly a neat little greeting card for that sort of thing eh?"

"No" Harry smiled weakly. "There sure isn't."

"Hermione will figure something out" Ron said, doing his best to sound reassuring. "She's already buried in a pile of books down in the library."

"I figured as much" Harry said, his smile more genuine this time as he pictured Hermione in her most famous pose; her nose buried in a book. A faint sliver of light from the nearby window was piercing through the otherwise black hallway, reflecting off of Ron's famous Weasley red hair. For a moment both boys were silent and all humor drained from their expressions as they studied each other. There were many unspoken things conveyed in that gaze; years of friendship and loyalty. Years spent joking around in the dorm room, years spent on the Quidditch pitch, years spent facing danger and certain death. There had also been the bad times; jealousy, petty fights, and misunderstandings. But in the end, they had shared a friendship of great depth and legendary feats.

Ron broke the silence by saying the one thing that could sum it all up. "I'm not ready to lose another brother." Throwing all stoic manliness aside Harry strode over to Ron and embraced him a tight hug, adding a thump on the back for good measure.

"If it helps any, I'm not ready to die again either."

"I'm glad to hear it" Ron responded with a half grin. A moment later he sobered up. "I'm sorry I ever went along with the plan that Hermione made with Malfoy. I knew keeping you in the dark was a bad idea… it got people killed and if it ends up killing you as well…"

"You all did what you thought was best" Harry said. "Nobody could have foreseen this. Draco didn't mean for any of this to happen, no more than you or Hermione did."

Ron gave Harry an odd look at the use of Draco's first name but said nothing. "Well, be that as it may, if Malfoy's shit plan is what results in ending both of your lives, I'm going to resurrect him just to kill him again."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at the seriousness in Ron's tone, and a moment later they were both laughing, the sound of their voices filling the dark hallway and fighting away the shadows that seemed to press in around them from all angles.

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After finding out that he wasn't long for this world, Draco had found sleep to be elusive. He had wandered the hallways of his family home, ignoring the muffled voices of the hidden portraits. He wondered what they would say to him if he told them he was dying. They would probably be happy. Well, as close to happy as such sinister portraits could possibly be.

I won't just roll over and die he thought stubbornly as he rounded the corner and discovered a gaping hole in the wall of his home. Granger he thought instantly, somehow just knowing that it had been her handiwork. To be fair, there wasn't any other way for her to access his potions ingredients, and she had been indirectly trying to save his life. Indirectly indeed. Had it just been me dying and not Harry would she have bothered? Would any of them have bothered?

He was surprised to find he already knew the answer, and it was a simple and resounding yes. Yes, they would have tried to save him because they were heroes and that's what heroes did; they saved people, even if the person they were saving was a worthless snake beyond redemption. When I hid my plans from Harry I put a nail in his coffin. My actions will cause him to die, however unintended that may be. And any thoughts of redemption I ever had have vanished.

But I will not just roll over and die.

He removed his wand from its holster and proceeded to fix the damage that Granger had caused. He was going to do his damnedest to find a lasting antidote to the poison that was growing in his and Harry's veins. The more he learned of magic, the more he realized what a complicated thing it was. Making an Unbreakable Vow by blood had set off a course of reactions like dominos that he never even would have considered possible. Yes, magic is complicated but that doesn't mean a solution can't be discovered.

He had intended to start his research in the library, but as he peered in through the glass panes of the entrance doors he had seen Granger was already tirelessly engaged in the same task. He wasn't ready to see her; he imagined the look of blame and pain she would convey might be unbearable, even for a cold boy like himself. "It's your fault" she would say. "You thought you were so clever, and now Harry is going to die, and it's all your fault." The thought of facing her was frightening and in some ways Draco was still very much a coward.

When he had finished mending the damaged wall he discovered that the portrait was far beyond repair, so he exposed of the remaining debris and decided to use a simple password protected door to seal of his dungeon instead. He realized he had spent nearly an hour dealing with the tasks at hand and was in a bit of a rush to get to his research. So it was that he descended down the gloomy steps to the one place that he felt he might still have some value.

He started by examining the last remaining bezoar in his collection. It was his hope that by understanding the chemical principles that made the object a deterrent against poison, he might come to better understand a way to create a stronger, more permanent elixir. There was a common misunderstanding in the world of magic that all things happened whimsically and out of the blue. He knew this to be false; magic had very scientific principles to it. Of course, those principles were often incredibly complex and difficult to unravel. But Merlin be damned, he would surely try.

Is redemption possible?

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He felt their eyes on him, penetrating right through his flesh. He kept his own gaze averted, unable to bear the sight of tears streaming down Ginny's cheeks or the look of sorrow in Luna's silvery grey eyes. He had asked Ron to round them up and bring them to the library to discuss the matter of his dying. It wasn't a subject he wanted to discuss; just saying it out loud made it too real. Still, they had stuck by him since the beginning and it was only fair that they should know the cards they were now playing with.

It's so unfair he thought, echoing the same petulant thinking he had the night before. It was one thing for him to die; he had done it before. It was another for him to leave his friends in this situation; a deadly Damon out for their heads and an entire army on the verge of a global uprising. They're good, brave, honest, loyal people. Why do they always have to pay the price that evil exacts?

"We need to talk about Damon" Harry said, collecting himself and hoping that he sounded calm. Inside there was a storm of rage and it required everything that Draco had taught him to keep it from spilling out. It was easier to stick to business and avoid these sticky things that were called emotions. He looked up now, fixing his gaze to Hermione who was in work mode and thus was not currently crying. "It may be that Damon is afraid of Tom Riddle, and being that I am in possession of Riddle's soul he may be afraid to face me. I believe he's going to go into hiding until I no longer pose a threat."

"You mean until you die" Ron said bluntly and Harry watched Hermione flinch. He shot Ron a scathing look and the redhead had the good grace to look bashful.

"Yes, but Damon doesn't know I'm wounded. He doesn't know if his trick worked. He may be planning to settle back into hiding for the long haul once more. As long as we can keep my… condition a secret, we will buy ourselves some time to plan a better attack on him. The poisoning situation with Draco and I cannot be spoken about outside of this room. Understood?"

Everyone nodded except for Ron who looked grim. "And do we trust Malfoy not to spill the beans?"

"Draco Malfoy may be many things, but he's certainly good at keeping secrets. But moving on, we need to discuss coming up with a better plan for dealing with Damon. We don't know where he's hiding and we certainly don't want to walk into another trap. I am going to need you all to work on gaining some intelligence on where he might be. You'll also need to keep up the Mental Channeling trainings with our supporters."

"None of us can Channel as well as you can, why won't you be the one doing the training?" Luna asked, her tone inquisitive but slightly trembling with emotion.

"Because I have somewhere I need to go for a while" Harry explained, feeling his stomach churn. This was the part he had been most concerned about addressing. "There are… people who owe me favors. When I was working as an Auror I helped one group in particular that will be a great resource to us. I'll need to track them down and solicit their help."

"Who exactly are these people Harry?" Ron asked, intuitively picking up on the hesitation in Harry's tone.

Harry paused, nervously biting at his lower lip. He looked away from Ron and to Hermione. "They are called the Bloody 65th."

Hermione closed her eyes, clearly recognizing the name as he thought she would. "I thought they were legend" she muttered, massaging her temples as though she suddenly had a headache.

"They are real. I was surprised too when they reached out to me a couple years ago about a mission…"

"Care to fill the rest of us in?" Ron asked, annoyed that Harry and Hermione had fallen into their usual habit of talking to each other like nobody else was in the room.

"I only know of the legends" Hermione admitted. "I'd read about the Bloody First in a book called `Tales of Magical Heroism of the Ages'."

"Naturally" Ron responded, rolling his eyes.

"Anyways, according to the tale, the Bloody First Regiment was formed back in ancient times as a band of vigilantes who were dedicated to combatting dark magic. Not just dark witches and wizards though; demons, massive curses, evil objects…"

"We get it… they were ridding the world of bad stuff. Why were called the Bloody First though?"

"Well, they were the first regiment of its kind to be formed" she explained, despite the seemingly obvious nature of the response. "But they were called bloody because their tactics were brutal. And according to the legend, they weren't exactly the good guys; at least not always. For ages they identified innocent creatures like werewolves as being evil and would slaughter them by the hundreds. No political group would sanction their methods and they became secretive, falling into legend."

"They still exist" Harry replied with a sigh. "They are in their 65th generation now and while they aren't as archaic as they were, they certainly aren't the most savory people."

"If they battle evil then where the hell were they when Voldemort was murdering folks?!" Ron exclaimed, the tips of his ears burning bright red.

"That's the first thing I asked their commander. She told me that they offered their help to the Minister, but he refused. Apparently something very similar happened with the Minister during the First War. They will not go anywhere they aren't welcome."

Ginny made a noise of annoyance, and Ron fell back in his seat staring at the ceiling. "Fucking politicians!" he swore and Harry cracked a grin, despite the residual anxiety he was still feeling. Hermione was staring at him intently now, and without even looking at her he could sense that she had a million questions buzzing around in that brilliant mind of hers.

"What was the mission they reached out to you about?" Ron asked, and Harry's eyes darkened.

"It had to do with a demon horde that was wreaking havoc on magical communities throughout South America" Harry said, standing suddenly so he could walk towards the mantle and turn his back on his friends. He did not want them to see the turmoil in his expression. He did not want them to see the truth of what he was.

"Demons are real?" Ron asked, perplexed. "I thought they were some muggle invention used to make people act good."

"Yes and no" Hermione interceded, and Harry's shoulders sagged in relief. It was much easier to have her do the talking. "The muggle demon has to do with hell and deals with the devil, which is obviously mythical. However, the concept is based on a real magical phenomenon having to do with the destruction of the soul in exchange for eternal life. A wizard or witch can perform a ceremony that results in the complete destruction of the soul but it allows them to become immortal. However, in addition to the terrible side effect of losing your soul, in order for demons to survive they need to feed off of magical energy. They can drain the magical power from any magical being, leaving them a squib."

"Why would anyone want to destroy their soul?" Ginny asked, aghast.

"Ask Tom Riddle" Harry responded, and they all jumped slightly at the mention of the name. Harry sighed, absently patting the pendant beneath his shirt. "Riddle split his soul into pieces, leaving him with almost nothing of his former self…. all in the name of living forever. That is why the Bloody 65th contacted me to help them. They knew I had a bit of experience with horcruxes and they hoped some of the principles might be the same in regards to demons."

"Were they?" Hermione asked, her natural curiosity coming to light.

"No" Harry said, and his answer was so short and cold that she knew not to ask him anything else. At least not now, not in front of everyone else she ascertained. She could tell he was hiding something, but furthermore she could tell that what he was hiding was a point of great point and shame for him. It was no wonder he had never mentioned his involvement with the legendary group of vigilantes to her; something had gone very badly.

"So, you're going to find these guys and they're going to help us?" Ron asked, breaking an awkward silence that had fallen over the room.

"Yes, but it may take a while and a bit of persuasion. You see, there is a commander but she does not control decisions made for the entire group. It's a democracy; they all vote on which missions they will undertake. Some of the current regiment does not like me, so I'll have to contend with that."

"We will go with you" Ron offered. "We can back you up."

"No" Harry said once more, his tone equally stern. "As I said before, I will need all of you to be working on tracking down Damon and continuing with the training of our supporters."

"And looking for a cure to your condition" Hermione reminded him and when he looked at her he saw accusation in her stare, a look that said "did you already forget about saving you own life?".

"Yes, that too" Harry said weakly. She looked away from him and he realized that this conversation was far from over. Ron seemed to intuitively sense that the couple had some things to discuss and so he stood up slowly, stretching his lanky arms above his head.

"I for one still haven't had breakfast" Ron announced. "All this talk of Harry's `condition' and ancient vigilantes and ancient bad guys has me famished. Ginny and Luna, think you gals could give me a hand in the kitchen?"

Luna stood quickly and gracefully, giving Harry a sad smile before departing from the room. Ginny on the other hand, sat a while longer and the look in her eyes as she fixed her gaze upon Harry was one of deep pain and sadness. Harry stood up without hesitation and crossed the short distance between them, taking her in his arms and giving her an all-encompassing hug. "It's going to be okay" he whispered in her ear and she sniffled for a moment before straightening out and regaining her usual poise.

As Ginny left the room escorted by her concerned older brother, Hermione wondered if Ginny was still in love with Harry. If you're in love with Harry I won't get mad about it.,, Those had been Ginny's precise words when they had arrived in Paris. And she had not shown any resentment whatsoever regarding Harry and Hermione's new relationship. Because it isn't new…. not to her anyways Hermione realized. Ginny had long ago accepted that which Harry and Hermione had been too blind to see. But just because she accepted that Harry did not love her in that way did not mean that she wasn't still in love with Harry, on some small level.

"I haven't given up hope that we might find a cure" Harry said, breaking Hermione's reverie. He was back to standing by the mantle, avoiding looking at her. "It's just that… it's easier for me to focus on other things."

"It was the same way during the hunt for the horcruxes" Hermione admitted. "We both knew you might… you might die, but you wouldn't acknowledge it."

"Could you?" he asked honestly, and he turned towards her now, a gleam in his eyes.

"No, but we can't ignore it either" she sighed and in that moment she looked so impossibly tired that she seemed frail. Frail was never a word Harry would use to describe Hermione. In fact, she was the strongest person he had ever known. This is what I do to people he realized, and he turned away once more, unable to bear the guilt that such thinking brought. "You've put me in a difficult position" she said after a pause.

"How so?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"You're dying Harry. I can't let you go off alone. I won't. But if I go with you, I won't have the resources I need to find a cure for you either."

"It would be better if you stayed here" he told her cautiously.

"Better for you, yes I can tell that. It's clear that you don't want me to know certain things about your involvement with the Bloody 65th. But Harry, I would never judge you. I- I love you." Her words were so filled with emotion that he felt compelled to go to her, breaking through the barrier he had feebly been trying to build. He took her in his arms and she did not resist, resting her head against his chest and listening to that reassuring heart beat that resounded from beneath.

"I love you too," he said, wishing he had said those words a million times more.

"I think I can help ease this situation," said a strange voice that made them both jump. Harry turned quickly towards the sound and in an impressive display of wandless magic he had the intruder pinned against the wall in mere nanoseconds.

"Bloody hell Draco" Harry snarled once he had a clear view of the intruder's face. "Why would you sneak up on a person like that?"

"It's my house" Draco reminded Harry, panting slightly as Harry released him. "Anyways, I was looking for a particular book and saw you all having a meeting in here and didn't want to disturb you. I sort of snuck in through a secret passage."

"How many of those are in this damned house?" Harry cursed.

"Hundreds at least" Draco shrugged. Not for the first time, Harry marveled at how very different Draco Malfoy's upbringing was from his own.

"All of this still doesn't quite explain why you were spying on us" Hermione added. Draco looked at her and she instantly saw something in his expression she had never seen before; humility and grief. She was taken aback, but as soon as she saw it, it was gone.

"I wasn't spying on you" Draco said in his best haughty tone. "I happened to overhear what you were talking about, and I'm willing to offer a possible solution. You want to go with Harry but you also need to find a cure. What if you left the cure finding up to me? I have always been better at potions than you, and I have many resources at my disposal."

"I don't trust you" Hermione said flatly and Harry saw Draco flinch. Even he himself was surprised by the unusual tinge of cruelty in Hermione's tone. On the other hand, Draco Malfoy had tormented her back at Hogwarts, had mocked her muggle-born status and had watched as she was tortured by his crazy aunt. Hermione may have learned to play nice with Draco Malfoy, but she had no reason to trust or like him.

"I don't blame me for not trusting me Granger" Draco responded, his tone calm and unreadable. Harry gave Draco a warning look and Draco revised his choice of words. "I mean, I don't blame you for not trusting me Hermione. Nobody can argue that you've always been bright, and you'd be a moron to trust me after everything I've done in my life. Hell, the only one stupid enough to invest any amount of trust in me has been Harry and look where that's gotten him." She saw it again, that brief look of remorse, and she relaxed slightly, letting go of her defensive posture. If Harry was offended by Draco's choice of verbiage he showed no indication. In fact, when Hermione looked at the black haired man there was a look of sympathy in his emerald green eyes. If anyone ever had reason to hate Draco Malfoy it's Harry Potter. How has he learned to forgive?

Draco continued, "I know you don't have a reason in the world to trust me. But I can promise you this; if there is a cure out there, I will find it. Not just because I feel I have a debt to Harry, or because I am looking for redemption. I will find the cure because I don't want to fucking die. So you can question any of my more noble intentions but you must believe that last one; I will do whatever I have to in order to save my own miserable, worthless life. Is that something you can believe?"

Hermione stared deeply into Draco's grey eyes, as though trying to read his soul. As Harry watched this exchange between the two of them he felt like it was a warm front hitting a cold front; a storm was about to emerge. "Yes" Hermione said finally. "Yes, that I can believe."

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His things were packed and he had said his farewells to Luna, Ron, Ginny and Draco. Nevertheless, Harry felt anxious about what lie ahead of him and he did not feel ready to leave Malfoy Manor. There's something I never thought I'd lament he thought darkly, hoisting his backpack onto his shoulders and exiting the room that he had spent nearly a month sharing with Hermione. It was strange that the dark and dingy guest room had come to feel like home.

He had contacted an old ally during the day and discovered the approximate whereabouts of the Bloody 65th. They were camped out in the far northern region of Canada, which did not please him in the least. He had no fondness for camping ever since the horcrux hunt, and he especially disliked the freezing cold; there were some types of cold that even warming charms could not keep away. There was also the fact that he had been a different person when he had worked with the Bloody 65th. Hermione had promised she would not judge him, but he couldn't imagine she would still feel the same about him if she knew the truth about who he had been and the things he had done.

He patted on the pendant hidden under his shirt for comfort and went to find Hermione waiting for him in the parlor, staring deeply into the flames before her. She was well bundled up for arctic weather and he marveled at how much better they were prepared for this than they had been on their last camping excursion. Back then a miracle that Hermione had been insightful enough to keep her bag of supplies on hand at all times or else they wouldn't have even had a damned tent to sleep in. I was a totally lost prat back then he thought to himself as he sat down next to her on the sofa. Not much has changed; I'd still be lost without her.

"Ready?" he asked, and she simply nodded, a resolute look in her eyes. He offered her his hand, pulling her up with him as they stood. They each grabbed a handful of green powder and throwing it into the fire they disappeared in a roar of flames. They had constructed a careful plan of weaving through the floo network in order to hide their tracks from anyone who might try to follow, and so it wasn't until many fireplaces later (and a great deal of black soot) that they finally arrived at a small ranger station located in the Northern Rocky Mountains of British Columbia.

Coughing, they shook the soot off and took in the plain wooden hut that surrounded them. A moment later a rather surprised looking wizard emerged, his wand poised. "Who are you?" he asked, not lowering his wand. "I wasn't expecting company… I hardly ever am out here." The wizard looked no older than 20 and was rather skinny with a very pale complexion. He was clearly quite timid and looked almost embarrassed that he still had his wand pointed at them.

"We're looking for some friends of mine" Harry explained, and his tone was so patient that the wizard decided to lower his wand. "We didn't mean to startle you, this is just the only ranger station in the area."

"Oh, well yes, that is true. Who could you possibly be looking for though? Nobody really lives out in these parts, at least not for a few hundred kilometers…"

"I think you can guess" Harry said, his tone suddenly stern. He ran his fingers through his hair, exposing his scar.

"Oh… them. Everett said you might show up here. I don't know much about them to be honest, so if you're hoping for me to guide you to them I don't think…"

"I wouldn't ask that of you" Harry promised and the wizard visibly relaxed. Clearly he was not supposed to be discussing the Bloody 65th in any capacity and felt more than a little intimidated by his newly arrived guests. "Everett told me they're around this area and I'll track them down. I know they paid you a short visit a while back, what did they want?"

"I'm not really sure I should say…"

"None of this will come back to you, I promise" Harry assured, and he gestured to the small square table in the center of the room as though to suggest they all take a seat. Hermione was only too happy to sit down; all the floo travel had her feeling a bit dizzy still. The little wizard sat down but he still looked quite nervous.

"What's your name?" Hermione asked, trying a gentler approach.

"It's Sam" he said, looking at her as though he had just noticed her for the first time.

"Nice to meet you Sam, I'm Hermione and I'm sure you already know that this is Harry Potter. We're not looking for any trouble, but if you could answer a few questions it would make our trip a lot easier."

"You may not be looking for trouble, but you're bound to find it if the Bloody 65th is who you're after."

"We're not `after' anyone" Harry assured Sam. "Like I said, they're friends."

Sam gave Harry a peculiar look, as though to ask "what sort of guy is friends with that lot?" but he said nothing out loud, simply standing up and busying himself with making some tea. Harry looked as though he was about to push the subject but Hermione placed a calming hand on his wrist and he held his tongue. After a moment Sam offered them a spot of tea to which they both agreed and then he sat back down. It was clear that his nerves were rattled and for the first time Hermione felt truly anxious about meeting Harry's former allies.

"There have been sightings of ijiraq in this region" Sam finally said, blowing the steam off his mug of tea. "At least, that's what I was hearing reports of. There aren't a lot of inhabitants out in these parts, but there's a small wizarding village hidden in the mountains. One of the town leaders came to me one day; panicked because he said that a child was missing and when they sent a search party out to find him half of the people went missing. Only one made it back, and he told them that they'd seen an ijiraq, that it had disoriented them and they'd all wandered off and froze to death. They still haven't found the little boy but he's almost certainly dead…"

"What's an ijiraq?" Harry asked, confused.

"It's a legend" Hermione quickly responded. "They aren't supposed to be real, but then again in the magical world anything is possible. In Inuit mythology it was believed that some men traveled too far North and that they became trapped between the world of the living and the world of the dead. They became evil shadows, luring kids to far off places and abandoning them to die. They can also confuse travelers and make them become lost in the snow."

"I had always thought it was just a story" Sam agreed. "And I certainly wouldn't expect to see them here, but then I suppose they go wherever is cold enough to sustain them. I reported what had happened to the Canadian Ministry division of Magical Investigations. And then, a few days later the Bloody 65th showed up. Guess they caught wind of it and decided to take matters into their own hands. I also thought the Bloody 65th was just a legend… it's a been a weird week."

"How long ago were they here?" Harry asked.

"Only two days ago" Sam shrugged. "I'm glad they've moved on. Hopefully they can help but they were not pleasant guests. They were headed to the village by foot, hoping to spot the ijiraq along the way."

"How long would it take them to reach the village by foot?"

"Two to three days, depending on how fast they move… and depending on if they encounter any trouble."

"We'll head straight over to the village then and meet them there" Harry nodded. "Do you mind us using the floo?"

"Not at all!" Sam said, jumping up and grabbing the powder. He's eager to have us leave Hermione realized. She didn't blame him. A man who lived alone as a ranger in the middle of nowhere wasn't likely to be overly fond of company, especially company that was asking all sorts of questions.

Getting back on their feet they headed to the fireplace for one last floo trip. I hope this is all worth it she thought as the green roar of flames rushed around her.

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** Author's Note: I should mention that I've tweaked the mythology regarding the ijiraq for the purpose of this story. It is based on an actual Inuit myth but I needed to change a few things for the purpose of clarity. Anyhow, let me know what you thought of the chapter

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