Unofficial Portkey Archive

Author's Note: So… a million apologies for really slacking on this story. Thank-you so much to those of you who keep reading anways! I would love to hit 200 reviews so if you're still hanging in there please R&R! I estimate we're 3-5 chapters from the end.

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CHAPTER 22: Blood and Snow

"If you knew I was dying would it change you?" -Manchester Orchestra

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Potter the Punisher? Hermione thought to herself, scoffing at the absurdity of the phrase. Yet she kept back her skeptical scowl as she suddenly recalled Bearnard's description of "The Punisher"; Do you remember how he tore those people limb for limb, how he severed their hearts…

Harry had made it clear that he did not want her to come here and he had obviously been hiding something about his past. She had known that Harry had killed others besides Voldemort; she had seen the pain behind his eyes when she healed him and on the rare occasion (usually when firewhiskey was involved) he would mention the feeling of blood on his hands. She had known he had killed but he clearly took no pleasure in it. But now she wondered just how deadly he had become. For the first time she wondered how well she really knew the man she loved.

When Jiao had called him by that silly nickname Harry had cut his gaze away, suddenly becoming fascinated by the fire that glowed at the center of the tent. A moment passed and then he spoke, his emerald eyes fixing themselves on the American called Jay with a deadly look. "I suggest you find another place to be Jay" he said calmly. "I have business to discuss with Jiao."

Jay tightened his jaw, a look of fury crossing his rough features. And then everything happened at once. Jay reached for the wand holstered at his side, his mouth forming the words to a curse as his hand moved at an impossibly fast speed. Yet, for however fast the hulking man was, the spry Harry Potter was even faster. In a gesture so miniscule it could barely be perceived, Harry tapped his fingers against the side of his leg and Jay's wand was torn from his hands, his body flying through the air and landing heavily on a wooden chair, smashing the offending piece of furniture to bits. Jay returned to his feet shakily, his face aghast as Harry carelessly twirled the stolen wand in his hand.

"Run along now or I'll snap it" Harry warned, gently bending the ten inch twig. Jay's face contorted as though he had a few choice words to share, but seeing how far back Harry was proceeding to bend his wand, he swallowed his words and stormed from the tent. Harry pocketed the wand and flicked his hand in the direction of the chair, which almost instantly reassembled itself.

He's getting powerful Hermione realized, and she wondered how much of his power was being taken from Riddle's soul, which she knew was hanging from the pendant around Harry's neck, despite behind hidden beneath his jacket. Suddenly she was quite frantic to find a way to separate Harry from his morbid piece of jewelry.

"How did you do that?" Jiao asked, a note of genuine surprise and alarm in her quiet voice.

"That's what I was here to talk to you about" Harry said, finding a seat by the fire and gesturing for Hermione to join him. "You left me waiting in your tent for too long, I got impatient."

Jiao sat across from them so that her pretty face was partially obscured by the flames. Harry suddenly found himself thinking about Anna, whom Riddle had burned alive, and so he closed his eyes, collecting his thoughts. Then he told Jiao about Damon and The Cradle and Channeling. She sat patiently through it all, listening carefully.

"So you are asking for our help" she said when all was done being discussed.

"I can train the Bloody 65th to Channel. Not everyone will be able to learn, but I'm guessing a lot of them will be good at it. Damon has been training his army for decades; we stand no chance against his Children unless we unite forces."

"It is not your place to make this request" Jiao said in a way that sounded like a warning. "The Bloody Armies have always dealt directly with government officials. We cannot make a move on another territory without the sanction of the governing body."

Harry looked grimly determined, leaning forward in his chair. "Listen, anyone could be working for Damon. Hell, someone if your own camp could be part of his cult. I took a risk coming here to speak to you because I trust your wisdom."

"You came here because you need help and you know I owe you a favor" she countered, her gaze not wavering from his.

"That may be true" he admitted with a shrug. "But what's important is that you trust the gravity of the situation. If you bring this to the Ministry into this, dozens of people will know about our plans and then we'll lose the element of surprise. We need to turn the tables on him so he'll stop getting the best of us. He's already wounded me once, I won't let it happen again."

"You're wounded?" Jiao asked, and Hermione was not surprised to see a look of concern in the woman's eyes. Harry has that effect on people.

Hermione seized Jiao's surprise as an opportunity. "He's not just wounded, he's dying. If you are hoping that he will save us all again, your hope might be irrational. Damon is perfectly positioned to take on the world, and if he finds out that Harry is dying he'll probably just wait until Harry is dead and attack again, at which point nobody will be able to match Damon's power. Unless we can bring the fight to Damon soon, and catch him off guard, the wizarding world will undergo some drastic changes."

"Perhaps the wizarding world needs to undergo some drastic changes" Jiao suggested, and Hermione nearly gasped at the audacity of the suggestion that they let a mad man run wild. "You are both familiar with evil, death and suffering. I myself have seen plenty of it in the ten years since I joined the Bloody 65th. Magic is a beautiful, wonderful thing, but it is also dangerous. There will always be those who abuse the power of magic, as there have always been those who fight for the side of good. But what if one day we cannot fight any longer? What if the politicians drown all the heroes in a sea of bureaucratic nonsense? Who will stand up and fight then?

It may sound paranoid, but we all know that it's a day that has been rapidly approaching. The Bloody Armies were forbidden to help when Voldemort rose to power, both times! And Miss Granger, I have followed your career carefully. I know the struggles you have faced to secure equality for magical creatures, squibs and others who are persecuted by the system. They do not make it easy for heroes to save the day. Maybe it is time for the system sees drastic change."

"Why did you follow my career?" Hermione asked, side-tracked by this strange comment.

Jiao offered a wry smile. "We wanted to recruit you."

"Me?" Hermione sputtered, baffled. "I'm not a soldier."

"I'm quite sure that many would disagree. In fact, from my position I'd say you started training for war before even I did."

Hermione had never really thought of it that way. She had never seen what she had done to help Harry as being any sort of training- she had only been trying to keep him alive. "Why did you change your mind about recruiting me?"

"I'm sure you can guess" Jiao said, her eyes drifting to Harry, who had been sitting silently. He was afraid I would say yes, that I would join them Hermione realized. He was afraid I'd get hurt. Yet as he finally met her gaze, she realized it was more than that. He was afraid it would change me.

Hermione's emotions ranged from feeling irate that Harry would speak for her, to hurt that he'd think she'd ever choose such a lifestyle, to comforted to know that he had been trying to protect her. She pushed all these emotions away though, using the meditative techniques she had learned in training. This is a conversation for another time.

Hermione took a deep breath and tactfully shifted the conversation back to the most important topic at hand; Damon. "It may be true that there has been a lot of corruption in magic. But I'm sure you've also seen much good. You called me a soldier, and I suppose that's true in some ways. I've seen many good men and women die at the hands of Voldemort, and now we've lost more lives to Damon. Those were horrible sacrifices, but I'd like to believe they were noble ones. For every Gellert Grindelwald there is an Albus Dumbledore. To every Tom Riddle there is a Harry Potter. It's about keeping the balance. If we roll over and let Damon take everything, the balance will be destroyed. If you let that happen it will dishonor the sacrifices of every man and woman who has died fighting by your side."

To Hermione's great surprise there was a glimmer of tears in Jiao's eyes and then she blinked and they were gone. "I will think on what you have said" Jiao said, her voice once more a whisper as her eyes reflected the dancing flames of the fire that sat between them.

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Ron hadn't spent so much time in a library since the days when Hermione would drag him and Harry there for endless hours of studying, during which Ron mostly napped. Despite this, he felt oddly less bothered than he used to be by being buried in books. Perhaps it was because he had grown up considerably. Or perhaps it was because Luna was infinitely more fun to study with than Hermione and Harry had been.

Luna had a knack for pointing out hilarious and odd sentences whenever she discovered them in one of the dusty old tomes they'd been reading through. For example, Ron's ribs were still aching from moments earlier when she had come across the statement, "Wizards and witches who spend ample time suspended upside down, and who refrain from sexual activity may be more likely to experience premonitions." Luna's prompt response to that was "I suppose that if you spend all your days hanging upside down there aren't a lot of people who will want to join you for `sexual activities' anyhow."

Between Luna's discoveries, her proclivity for snacking while researching, and her rather adorable mannerisms, Ron found himself to be actually enjoying the studying process. The dark shadow of the seriousness of their work still loomed above, but somehow he felt that if they worked together they would be okay, they would figure it out.

There was still one remaining factor of concern and that was Luna's ongoing headaches. She had refused to take anything to stop the headaches today because she thought it was possible that they would trigger some sort of psychic vision. Ron felt less certain, as there had not been any information to suggest such a correlation. In fact, they had found little to nothing of use thus far. Having taken divination years before Ron was not terribly surprised- it was a rather weak form of magic.

Ron closed the book in front of him and reached for another while simultaneously stuffing a cookie into his mouth. It was at this exact moment that Luna stood up rather abruptly with a look of determination so fierce that he nearly choked. "I need to try Mental Channeling again."

"All it does is give you a headache" Ron argued, trying to swallow the food in his mouth.

"But it also triggered these visions" she reminded him, already walking out of the library, forcing him to follow her in suit. She was acting in a way he had never seen before; her usual cerebral calm abandoned.

"We don't even know that they are visions!" Ron argued, grabbing her shoulder to stop her so that she was facing him. "You could just be having vivid dreams as the result of stress or something. Hell, the other night I had a dream that Malfoy was teaching me to dance the tango while Harry played the guitar. Stress can do terrible things to the mind."

His joke seemed to break through to her, but only for a moment. "Maybe they are just dreams, but I need to know for certain. It's the only shot we have at finding Damon."

"You're putting too much pressure on yourself" Ron warned as she made her way into the vast, empty ballroom that was used for training.

"I'm doing what needs to be done. Besides, if something goes wrong I'll have you here to watch out for me."

Ron was flattered by her vote of confidence but he was quite sure that if she had some sort of episode he would have no clue what to do. Still, it was clear that her mind was set and so he sat with her on the cold marble floor as she closed her eyes and tried to focus her emotions into a levitation spell. A full hour passed in this manner and while she exhibited no signs of wandless magic he could see from her facial expressions that was experiencing a great deal of pain.

Finally he was about to force her to stop when she fell backwards, convulsing on the floor as though having a seizure. Ron quickly rushed to her side, holding her in his arms, unsure what else to do as a feeling of panic swept over him.

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Harry and Hermione had made the trek back to their cramped little inn room in silence. There was a million things she wanted to ask him but his mood was even more frigid than the tundra surrounding them. Thus she waited until they were situated in the room, winter clothing removed and dripping from the pegs by the doors as the snow that clung to them slowly melted.

Harry's hair was even more erratic than usual after he removed his cap, and he stood looking out the window, not speaking. Despite the fact that she was burning with the desire to speak to him she was also quite stubborn and so she waited until he broke the silence first. "I hope that Jiao gets back to us soon on her decision. We don't have time to be wasting."

"You mean YOU don't have time to be wasting. Damon is probably deep in hiding at this point and we could spend years chasing after him if need be. But you don't have years."

"Thank-you for reminding me about that" he said sharply, turning away from the window. She bit down on her lip, feeling guilty for her attack, but it had gotten the desired response. It had gotten him out of his shell that he was hiding in.

"What was all of that about Harry? Potter the Punisher? I knew you had secrets after the war, that you were assigned all sorts of dangerous missions but the way they talked about you, and they way you attacked that brutish one, Jay…"

"There's a very long history there" Harry said, his eyes flashing at hearing his much despised nickname.

"So let's start with one question at a time" Hermione offered, this time her tone calm. She managed to get him to sit down on the bed beside her. "Why didn't you let them approach me about joining the Bloody 65th?"

He sighed heavily. There were so many reasons he hadn't wanted her to come with him and this was one of them. He didn't want to have this conversation, didn't want to head down that road which would inevitably lead to her learning about every horrible thing he had done. Still, the way she was looking at him now; a mixture of hurt, confusion and anticipation… he could not deny her. She's manipulating me into talking to her about this he realized. He recognized the design of her manipulation; first enticing him into an emotional outburst and then soothing and calming him. She knows me too well. She knows how to push all my buttons.

"I didn't want you to see the things I'd seen or have to do the things I'd done. But mostly it was selfish- you were my best friend. You still are. I didn't want you back in the way of danger."

"But you had to have known I'd decline!" she protested. "You know me better than anyone, how could you think I'd have left my work with the Department of Magical Law to go back to camping out in tents and combatting evil?"

Harry half smiled at this but there was a deep sadness in his gaze. "I knew you would decline. But first you would have heard them out, because that's what you do. And the more you learned about them and their work, the more you would have learned about me. About the things I did when I was with them. About how I got that stupid fucking nickname, Potter the Punisher."

"I told you I wouldn't judge you. You know that I love you, so tell me Harry. Tell me about what happened because I can see it's eating you up inside."

He ran his hands threw his impossibly messy hair, resting his elbows on his knees as he gazed down at the floor. "I told you that the Bloody army had contacted me because they were chasing down demons. The thing about demons is that they are just regular wizards and witches who made a terrible choice. So many people fear death, and they don't always realize the price they are paying to avoid it. There's always a price to be paid."

His hand instinctively touched the place on his chest where Riddle's pendant was hanging beneath his shirt. As always, Hermione squirmed upon seeing him make that gesture, but she bit back her comments. Now was not the time. Harry continued with his story. "Wizards and witches perform a ceremony and their soul becomes destroyed. What that means is that they become an empty shell of existence, a being with no joy or desire except feeding their hunger for magic. They suck the magical energy from any magical being to cross their path. Sometimes, they even try to feed off of muggles. Many muggles have small traces of magical powers, but it's so faint that the process kills them."

"The demons were running rampant when the Bloody Army contacted me. A greedy, evil bitch named Sophia had been selling manuscripts detailing the process to the sick and dying. When you're so close to death, you'll cling to any hope. She gave them a glimmer of hope for an expensive price and of course she told them nothing about the side effects."

"At the time when I was contacted, the Bloody Army was in a state of transition. Their leader, Abel, had been killed fighting one of the demons. They're difficult to kill. I was contacted by Jiao who was contending with Jay for control of the army. She was hoping that my knowledge of horocruxes might give me some insight into how to destroy the demons. I was useless in that way, so I did what I could and joined their fight."

He paused, looking up at her now with a look of pain so poignant in his emerald green eyes that she nearly had to look away. "It turns out there's only one way to kill a demon. You have to perform a rather complex enchantment on a blade and pierce the being through the heart with that same enchanted blade. So that's what I did. I killed dozens of them, stabbing them through the heart as I looked upon their faces. As you know, demons don't have horns or pointed tails or any of that nonsense. They are regular looking people, but their eyes are entirely black and they have this horrible, empty stare. Each time I killed them I gazed into those empty eyes and watched as in the very last moments their souls returned. As their blood dripped down my hands and they took their last breath I was looking into the eyes of a human being- not a monster but a regular fucking human being who had made a bad decision simply because they didn't have all the information."

Hermione felt a cold chill run through her body and in that moment Harry was worlds apart from her despite sitting only centimeters away. This is what he didn't want me to know about. This is what he has had to carry alone for years now.

"So that's why they call me `Potter the Punisher'" he said with a short, callous laugh. "Because in the end it was me who kept up the killing when the rest of their stomachs turned and they couldn't hold a sword straight. I did what had to be done."

"You always do" Hermione said, surprised by how soft her voice came out.

"At least that's what I tell myself" he sighed, and now he stood up and found his way back to the window, looking out the fog covered glass as though answers could be seen on the other side. "Sometimes I don't know what the right thing to do is. Sometimes it just all becomes so heavy. And when it's like that… I wish I had just stayed in King's Cross Station with Dumbledore after Voldemort killed me. I wish I had never come back."

"Don't say that" she responded sharply, and now she was standing as well, forcing him to look into her eyes. "Don't you ever say that. When it all gets too heavy, let me help you hold it up. We'll do it together."

"What if it's too much? What if it crushes us?"

"Then we'll go down together."

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Luna had not moved for a long time. She was so very still and so very cold to the touch that Ron would be certain she was dead if it wasn't for the steady pulse in her wrist and the even rise and fall of her chest. After she had lost consciousness, Ron had screamed for help, but in a house of that size his words were merely an echo traversing all the empty, shadowy spaces. Finally he had gathered her in his arms and taken her to the nearest available bedroom, ensuring that she was living before dashing to the dungeon to retrieve Ginny and Draco. Thrice he had nearly slipped on the slimy steps that spiraled to the potions lab, but his focus was such that he recovered himself with an athletic grace he had not previously known himself capable of.

Draco and Ginny had checked Luna's vitals in a similar manner to what Ron had already done, but there was nothing threatening to be detected, even when they tried some more complex attempts at detecting the cause of her state. It was as if she was in a very deep sleep, from which they could not waken her. Ginny had sent an owl off to Pomfrey, but she was amidst some sort of flu epidemic at Hogwarts and she asked that if Luna was not knocking on death's doorstep they wait another day. In the meantime, Draco and Ginny had taken up the research that Luna and Ron had previously abandoned, hoping to find some link between premonitions and the fair-haired girl's recent loss of consciousness.

For Ron's part he simply sat and waited. When she wakes up, I'm going to ask her on a date. A proper date. He had never been on a "proper date" before. With Hermione their relationship had been born from the fear and chaos of wartime and thus it quickly leapt from a flirtatious friendship to a full-blown relationship that primarily hinged on fighting. They had been fights cause by his jealousy or her judgments, but either way they spent most of the time either fighting or making up, and as a result there had been none of those quaint first dates that Ron had heard tales of. After Hermione it had just been a string of one night stands for him, and so he had never really tried to simply date a girl. He wanted to try with Luna though. He wanted to take her somewhere nice, get dressed up, show up with flowers for her, make small talk and laugh over a glass of wine, split a dessert and then walk hand in hand afterwards.

A small strand of her blonde hair had fallen across the closed lids of her eyes, and he gently pushed it away. She could make me a better man. She could make me happy, and I think maybe I could make her happy to. In that moment Ron realized that he wasn't sure of the last time that he had thought about what it meant to be happy. Happiness had always seemed to dwell at the bottom of a bottle, or between the legs of the next girl who smiled his way and called him a war hero. But it had never been happiness, not truly. It had been a diversion. Real happiness took work, and he hadn't wanted to struggle at anything. Now that was changing and it was a queer sensation.

As he pondered this, Luna's eyes fluttered open and she took in a sharp breath. "I know where to find the wolf."

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Harry's dreams were clouded by memories of warm blood dripping from his hands as he pushed his blade through heart after heart of the demons who tried to attack him. He dreamt of the way the blade felt as it scraped against bone, of the way the blood poured from the wound in timing with the slow beating of their dying hearts. He dreamt of the final look in their eyes as they died; confusion, sorry, regret… fear. And then he dreamt of Draco Malfoy.

They were back in the bathroom of Hogwarts after their bloody confrontation in sixth year, but they weren't young as they once were. Draco was lying in the water bleeding from the sectumsempra curse, but this time instead of an invisible sword conjured by his wand, Harry was holding an actual sword in his hand. When he looked down at it he realized it was Gryffindor's sword, gleaming with the bright ruby blood of the boy who lay dying below. Harry fell to his knees, the sword loosening from his hand and clanging against the stone floors with a loud rattle that echoed through the room. "I'm sorry" he said to Draco as he watched his life pour from his body, seeping into the water around him.

"No Harry, I'm the one who is sorry" Draco said, his voice calm and flat.

It was then that Harry felt the sharp pain of a million knives piercing his body, and when he looked down once more he had the stab wounds in his chest and torso identical to those on Draco. He pressed his hands to them, trying to stop the blood but it was too late. He fell into the water, his body lying close to Draco as he died. "At least we won't die alone."

Harry awoke, jolted by the pain still lingering in his chest. He put his hand there, looking for the blood he knew would be spilling out, but there was no wound. The poison is getting worse he realized and as his eyes adjusted to the faint light of early morning he saw that the stain beneath his skin had grown larger than the day before. Before he could have time to ponder this, the door popped open and Hermione entered, fully dressed for the day, a small plate of breakfast in hand. As always, her observation was keen and nearly instantaneous and she saw the pain in his expression and the darkness spreading across his chest. There was a look of deep sadness in her brown eyes, but it was gone nearly as quickly as it had appeared.

"We should send a message to Malfoy" she said, diverting her gaze to the plate in her hand as she took a seat in the nearby armchair. "It would be good to see if he's had any progress."

Harry sat up and pulled a shirt on over his head. He wasn't hungry but he somehow felt that if he ate he would appear stronger and healthier, so he snagged a slice of bacon from her plate and munched on it. "We should check to see if the rest have had any progress in tracking down Damon as well. But we need to be careful… if any of our communications are intercepted we could be bringing danger down on everyone involved."

Hermione responded with a sly grin. "Why Harry Potter, did you honestly think I'd travel all this way with you and not have any method for phoning home?"

He laughed. "How stupid of me."

"Yes indeed" she jested with a wink. She reached into her purse and extracted a cell phone.

"When you said `phone home' I didn't expect it to be literal. I doubt we have any service out here."

"We certainly don't. Which is why I charmed this to link to only one phone, which Ginny is in possession of. It can send text messages, but I didn't have time to figure out how to enchant it to allow phone calls to be carried over vast distances. Had I a little more time to explore the principles of the Weasley's extendable ear I might have…"

"You're brilliant" is all he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head as he headed to the loo. "Send a message to them then. And after that we head back to the camp. Jiao should have her mind made up by now in regards to helping us. And if she doesn't, well, we'll just have to give her a push."

Locked away in the privacy of the bathroom, Harry was able to have a moment to think. He removed his shirt and studied his ailment in the mirror. Little tendrils were starting to spread out into the surrounding veins and he knew it was a matter of time before the thing started moving down his arm and towards his heart. He splashed ice-cold water on his face, as though it might wake him up from the nightmare that was his life. As he pulled his shirt back on he thought of his dream, of Draco dying beside him. Please find a cure he thought, though he was unsure if a cure was even what he deserved.

Together they made the trek to the camp of the Bloody 65th. Harry had originally hoped to keep Hermione from the camp, but she knew his secret now and had accepted it with far more grace than he had expected. He wondered if he could be so forgiving, and in that moment he had the realization that perhaps that was why he had eventually been able to see past Draco Malfoy's endless faults and form an alliance. I want to believe that redemption is possible.

They found Jiao in her tent, which was far less smoky than the one they had been in the day before. In fact, it was rather immaculate, with perfect white walls, plush oriental carpets and a few sparse pieces of very asymmetrical furniture. In her whisper-like voice she offered them tea, which they both accepted. Then she began to speak, "I have decided to break the code of the Bloody Armies and take up your cause against Damon. I do however, have one condition."

"Naturally" Harry responded in a dry tone.

"I will need both of your help in finding a way to deal with the ijiraq. Just this morning we received a report from another village of four missing children. I believe these attacks will grow worse, and it will happen soon."

"We don't have the time" Harry said, his teeth clenched.

"I am sorry to hear you are dying Harry" Jiao said, her tone genuine. "But we will not abandon these people to take up another cause. You will just have to find a way to stall death yet again."

Harry sighed in exasperation. It certainly wasn't that he didn't want to help, especially since there were innocent, defenseless children involved. He just felt uncertain that the consequences wouldn't be far worse if he died before they had a chance to take on Damon. Then again, there had been no word from Ginny on their progress with finding Damon, so there was no real rush anyways.

He looked to Hermione, his constant companion in making difficult decisions since childhood. It only took a single gaze to know her mind. "Yes, we will help you."

"Good" Jiao responded shortly. "We hunt tonight, so be ready."

Harry nodded, taking this as his cue to exit and with Hermione by his side they once more stepped into the freezing cold of the outdoors. The cold bit at his cheeks and ears, but a moment later it was lessened and he realized Hermione had cast a warming spell around them with wandless magic. He grinned at her then, marveling at her brilliance whilst simultaneously aching at the sight of how beautiful she looked as the snow fell gently in her brown hair and her cheeks were red with the cold.

He suddenly remembered his nightmare; the blood, death. He felt a sharp pain in his chest and felt selfish for loving her, for needing her love to feel redeemed for the monster he had become. This came upon him as a pain worse than the poison that ran through his blood; it was a realization he couldn't shake.

It was Jay who interrupted this moment by hollering "PUNISHER!" with the might of an angry beast recently released from its cage.

"He's bloody relentless" Harry sighed, looking less than concerned as the behemoth of a man came charging towards them in the snow, a small collection of supporters at his heels. Hermione was suddenly reminded of Draco Malfoy as child, with his two lackeys Crabb and Goyle. Only Draco Malfoy had been a scrawny boy, not a 300 pound mass of muscle.

"You may have bested me with some cheap magic trick yesterday, but I demand a real battle, a battle of fists, man to man." After saying this Jay spit in Harry's direction, a scowl of pure hatred on his face.

"You know the rules" Harry said casually, easily dodging Jay's saliva. "If I accept this, and you lose, you have to leave the Bloody 65th forever."

"Yes I know them. And now it's clear you know them too. I will beat your pretty boy face into a pulp that your little girlfriend won't even be able to recognize. Then you'll have to go home and I'll never spend another second thinking about what a piece of shit you are."

Hermione wondered what Harry could have possibly done to make Jay hate him so ferociously, and she also wondered if Harry was suicidal enough to accept the challenge. Certainly Harry could best the man in a duel without breaking a sweat, but in hand to hand combat…

"I accept" Harry said and there was roar from those who were around to hear, all thirsty for blood. They're animals she thought to herself, disgusted by their behavior. How could he have worked and lived with them? But when she caught Harry's gaze there was something there she had not expected. She had expected dread, or at the very least, reluctance, but instead he seemed excited, the same gleam in his eye that he had once reserved for catching the snitch.

"What's going on with you?" she asked as he stalked away towards the main tent at the center of the campground.

"Like I said, there's a lot of history there" he mumbled as he pushed his way into the tent and they were suddenly plunged into a darkness that was in stark contrast to all the snow outside.

"Care to explain? That man looks like he could snap you in half…"

"He can't" Harry said. "He won't."

"Is this just some game to you? The Harry I know would never revel in a petty fight with some bully..."

"This isn't the Harry you know" he snarled, and suddenly she caught a glimpse of someone she had thought was long gone.

"Is Riddle affecting you still? I told you that the pendent was a bad idea."

As soon as she mentioned the pendant he patted his chest softly, making sure it was still there beneath his clothes, carefully nestled against his heart. "This isn't about Riddle. It's about Jay. When I came here, the previous leader of the Bloody Army, Abel had just been killed trying to battle the Demons. The Bloody Armies take a vote to find a new leader, but there was great division in the camp between those who supported Jiao taking over, and those who supported Jay. I wasn't technically a soldier, but I made my support for Jiao known. She was the one who had contacted me for help and she seemed intelligent."

"You had feelings for her?" Hermione asked, suddenly feeling strangely jealous of the beautiful dark-haired woman. It was not a feeling she liked.

"No" Harry responded, almost scoffing at the thought. "At least, not in the way you're insinuating. I supported her because she's a powerful witch and a dedicated warrior, and we had something in common though I didn't realize it at that time."

"What?" she asked, feeling embarrassed to be acting like an envious girlfriend amidst everything else that was happening.

"She was in love with someone she could never be with. Deep down I sympathized with that, even if I hadn't recognized those feelings yet."

"Who?"

"You obviously" he responded, confused.

"No, who was she in love with that she couldn't have?"

"Abel. Jiao is rarely sentimental, but she told me that she had been in love with him but never told him before he died."

Hermione felt a swelling of sympathy for Jiao. It was odd, but if it hadn't been for Riddle manifesting Harry, they may never have admitted their feelings to each other. Would I have realized those feelings and told him if he was dying? She wasn't sure, but she doubted it. It would have been too painful to admit those feelings and lose him. In fact, it would have been just as painful as it already was. "So you supported Jiao" Hermione concluded after a beat. "Can't say I blame you, Jay doesn't seem like a terribly nice or rational human being."

"Once I vocalized my support for Jiao a lot of people swung their vote to her side, and Jay has been chomping at the bit to fight me ever since."

"That doesn't mean you have to fight him" Hermione retorted sharply. "I saw the look in your eye when you beat him in that duel the other day. You liked seeing him struggle. I've never seen you like that."

"Which is why I didn't want you to come with me" he said coldly. "You pretend like you can accept who I am and the things I've done, but you can't."

"So what, you'd rather I'd leave than tell you that you're wrong? Tell you that you're better than this nonsense? Just because you've lived a violent life doesn't mean you have to enjoy the violence…"

"Yes, I do want you to leave" he said and the expression on her face appeared as though he'd hit her. "It was a mistake you coming here. I may not like being called Potter the Punisher, but it's part of who I am, and maybe it's not a part of me I'm ready to part with. Go home Hermione."

She felt tears sting at her eyes but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. "Now you're just being a bully to everyone. Fine Harry, don't listen to anything I have to say. If you don't think you need me, I'm gone."

She turned her back sharply and walked angrily for the door, waiting for him to call her back, to apologize. But he said nothing; he simply sat there looking moody, and so for good measure she snapped her fingers and the chair beneath him broke, leaving him sprawling in his ass.

As she disappeared into the white snow beyond the tent's flap Harry realized he should be impressed by that display of wandless magic. But instead he simply felt depressed.

`'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"What wolf?" Ron asked Luna once his skin had stopped crawling. There was something awfully creepy about a comatose person awakening with a sudden cryptic declaration.

Luna sat up and Ron laid a soothing hand on her shoulder, expecting her to have a splitting headache, but she smiled at him, apparently healthy as ever. After a moment she recanted her dream to him.

Once more Luna had tried to stop the lion's bleeding but as before, she couldn't touch or affect him. Her hand passed right through him when she tried, and his green eyes continued to stare at the horizon, uncaring of the black blood that now matted his fur and soaked the snow beneath him. She followed his gaze to where the icy ground met the blue sky in a thin line.

"What is he waiting for?" she wondered, and once more he roared loudly but this time she was prepared. Shortly after, the distant howl of a wolf followed, and she kept her eyes fixed on the horizon until a moment later a snowy white wolf appeared, its eyes a beautiful clear blue. As it came closer she realized she had nothing to fear from this predator and this time she was able to touch the wolf's fur, gently petting its head.

A moment later the wolf transformed in front of her stood a wizard with white hair and the same beautiful blue eyes. He wore robes of pure white and had a kind smile, but his gaze spoke of grave concern. "You can see me?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, I've been having this dream… but it's more than a dream isn't it?"

"He's been calling to me" the wizard said, gesturing to the lion, which still gazed towards the horizon as though the wizard was not there. "He can't see me though. I don't think he knows he's doing it."

"He needs help. He's dying."

"I see that" he commented, looking at the matted black blood that was now pooling in the snow beneath the lion. "He must be sending out a psychic call for help without even realizing it. You and I heard it because we share a gift."

"You have psychic abilities?"

"I used to, back when I was a wizard. Nowadays I spend my time as a wolf."

"Why?"

"Because I'm hiding of course."

"From who?"

"The man who sent poison into my peaceful home. The man whose ambition outweighs reason. The man who would kill me if he knew I was still alive, still carrying so many secrets."

"Damon" Luna realized. "How do you know him?"

"I was born in The Cradle, the very place where magic was created. Growing up, Damon was used as a cautionary tale; a man you should never become. He had chosen to use his powers for immortality, and it was known he was slowly going mad…. losing his soul bit by bit. I was just a young man when he let the monster you call Riddle into our nest. I had chosen to leave the Cradle to explore the world, and while I was gone everyone I knew and loved died; burned to death. I knew Damon's ambition wouldn't stop there, despite his egregious mistake in trusting Riddle. I knew that if he ever discovered I had lived he would see me as a threat and seek to kill me."

"Why have you hidden when you could have fought him?"

"I've never been a match for him. My psychic powers are great, but I cannot Channel magic as he and so many others could. I hid, but now I am being called from hiding and I have much information that can be shared to help the lion take Damon down."

"You will need to hurry up about sharing what you know" Luna warned. "He doesn't have much longer before the poison kills him."

"I know. But I can't speak with you here. It is possible Damon or one of his followers may be listening. Meet me in the place where the man you admire most was born."

She tried to puzzle out this riddle but the world was fading from around her quickly. "What is your name?" she called out as the dream had nearly gone black.

In a slight whisper she heard him respond, "Adrian."

"So… where is he then?" Ron asked once Luna had finished recounting her odd tale.

"Mould-on-the-Would" she said matter-of-factly.

"Where Dumbledore was born" Ron ascertained and Luna looked surprised. "Trust me, I know a lot more about Dumbledore than you might imagine. How would this wolf… er, this guy Adrian know that you most admire Dumbledore?"

Luna laughed. "Did you forget the part where he's psychic?"

Ron looked sheepish but he had a grin on his face nonetheless. "Luna, listen, there was something I meant to ask you…"

But before he could get the words out Ginny was bustling through the door. "Oh good Luna, you're awake. Hermione's back, we need to talk to her."

"What about Harry?" Ron asked, confused.

"He's not with her" Luna said, her voice dreamy and distant as though she were reading Ginny's mind. And in fact, she was.

`''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

After Harry had fixed the chair that Hermione had decided to break, he was left with nothing to do but wallow in self-pity. Why did you say those things to her? You're a bloody stupid git, the Dursley's were right, you don't deserve to be loved.

Yet even as he chastised himself, he knew why he'd done it. He hadn't expected his agreement to brawl with Jay to start a fight between him and Hermione, but once it had ignited he saw it as a way out. A chance to push her away.

He knew he was trying to be noble, and he also knew that being noble never got him anywhere. But that morning he had seen the pain in her eyes as he told her about the things he had done. She hadn't judged him, but in some small way she had pitied him, and pity was something he could not stand at this moment. I'm dying he thought to himself for the thousandth time that day. And with that thought it all came crumbling down on him. He regretted everything; from becoming her best friend, to allowing her to kiss him at Malfoy Manor, making love after the battle with Damon. He regretted it bitterly, in a way that made him want to rip everything around him to shreds.

I let her love me, and I let myself love her. And now I'm dying.

He buried his face in his hands and rocked back and forth. He was torn between wanting to chase her down and beg her forgiveness and wanting to never see her again. He was torn between selfishness and selflessness and he wasn't sure which was which anymore. He heard Dumbledore's voice in his mind saying, "Death is but the next great adventure to the well organized mind" and he nearly sobbed.

"I'm not ready" he panted, feeling that he might get sick. He heard Draco's voice now, his tone ringing with accusation as he said, "you told me that death wasn't so bad."

"I'm not ready" was all he could say, and slowly he pushed away all of the emotions built up within him and he stared into the fire for a good long time before he heard a rustling at the tent's entrance. He turned quickly, hoping it would be Hermione returning to set him straight, to remind his of all they had agreed to do together as a team. We can't do this next part together he thought remorsefully. In the end, we all die alone.

It wasn't Hermione who was approaching him, but Jiao, whose face was calm and gave off no indication of how she felt. Yet as she got closer he could read her eyes and there he saw disappointment. "Jay is ready for you."

"Good" was all Harry said, moving away from the warmth of the fire and towards the frozen outdoors.

"Don't get me wrong, I'll be glad to see Jay gone from the Bloody 65th. But this challenge is so uncivilized. Abel always spoke of wishing to strike it from the rule books."

"It's what Jay wants" Harry shrugged as they trudged through the snow towards the crowd of chanting men and women, all eager for a fistfight between the beast that was Jay and the legend that was Potter the Punished.

"What do you want?" Jiao asked, her voice barely audible above the roar.

"When has that ever mattered?" he growled, and with a shove he burst through the crowd and into the center of the ring where Jay stood shirtless, his hot flesh sending waves of steam up into the frigid air. The crowd let up a deafening cheer, but it was nothing like the cheering he'd once lived for in the Quidditch pitch. These were blood thirsty cries for pain; the same sort of chanting that gladiators once slew each other to the rhythm of. If it's blood they want, it's blood they'll get. I'm good at that.

Jay was yelling some garbled nonsense at him but Harry didn't care. All he felt was his heart beating in his chest and all he heard were muffled screams. Jay came towards him with a powerful swing and Harry ducked it easily, rocketing a punch into Jay's side that was so hard a snap of ribs could be heard over the crowd's roar. Jay doubled over, staggering to regain his defense and Harry simply waited, like a lion toying with its prey. With an expression of utter hatred Jay drove forward towards Harry, but his movements were clumsy and his injury severe. Harry easily sidestepped him, but not before moving his palm in a quick upward thrusting motion, breaking Jay's nose in a fountain of blood.

Hardly able to breath Jay fell to his knees choking as he cupped the hot red liquid that spilled from his face in his hands. Harry moved in now to end the fight. With a hard kick to Jay's bare chest the hulk of a man went over and crashed to the snowy ground like a tree trunk. He tried to make one last desperate grapple at his opponent, but Harry had him pinned down quickly and with a few deftly delivered blows to the head, Jay laid unconscious, splayed out in the snow as the blood spread all around him.

Wiping the blood from his own hands Harry moved away, hardly noticing the silence that had fallen on everyone around him. He retreated back to the tent, and there he sat until it was time for the real hunt.

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