Written in the Stars - The Land of Trees

The Land of Trees

It had been a sleepless night for Harry.

Between the two letters he’d received and Cain insisting he leave immediately to track down his pack, Harry had been unable to rest.

Although he wished to keep his werewolf friend with him where he was safe, he could not deny the need to have someone close enough to watch Greyback, and with Remus not having sent word, Harry was as concerned for the man as Sirius.

“Are you ready?” Lucinda asked from the doorway of his bedroom, pulling him from his thoughts.

Closing the lid of his trunk before resizing and placing it in his pocket, Harry turned towards her.

“I just need to speak with the others first,” he explained.

Lucinda merely nodded in response, and Harry followed her as she made her way to the kitchen where the others currently staying at Grimmauld Place were waiting for him.

“Are you sure about this, Harry?” Cassiopeia questioned.

She was not concerned with him visiting the vampires. He had done so already and he had parted ways with them amicably.

It was his meeting with the elves that the woman was uncertain about.

Little was known of them, and the history shared between them and humans was fraught with war and bloodshed.

“I am,” he answered, pulling her into an embrace. “Besides, I’ve got this one with me,” he added, nodding towards the thunderbird perched on his shoulder.

There would be no deterring the creature from accompanying him on this trip.

She may have reluctantly listened when he had refused to allow her to attend the Wizengamot meeting, but he already knew she would not be denied this time.

It had come as quite a surprise to Cassiopeia that Harry had somehow obtained a thunderbird as a companion, though she would undoubtedly understand their connection more if Harry was to fill her in on the journey they had already shared.

That, he would not do.

Already the woman worried for him, and to reveal that he had already died and been brought back to life would likely see him locked in a cell next to Grindelwald for his own safety.

Reluctantly, Cassie nodded.

“Be careful,” she urged.

“I will be,” Harry assured her. “I need you to do something for me whilst I’m gone,” he added, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.

“What is it?” Cassie asked, narrowing her eyes at him in suspicion.

“I need you to act as my proxy if a meeting is called. You are the only one in a position to do it that I know I can trust.”

“Thanks,” Jonas snorted.

“They wouldn’t let you in the room because of what you are and Eleanor’s family aren’t exactly highly regarded here,” Harry explained to the son of a hag. “Can you do that for me?”

Cassiopeia nodded.

“I will not be welcomed fondly.”

“I’m not exactly the favourite person of many,” Harry pointed out with a chuckle. “Besides, it would certainly put the wind up a few of them to see you there.”

Cassiopeia shook her head, though a grin of her own formed.

“I will do it if I need to,” she promised.

“Thank you,” Harry replied gratefully. “The two of you will fill in for me if there are any Order meetings,” he instructed Eleanor and Jonas.

“The Order members won’t like that,” Sirius pointed out.

“Then they can take it up with me when I get back,” Harry returned with a shrug. “They don’t have to like it, but they will accept it.”

“Anything else?” Jonas asked.

Harry shook his head.

“That just about covers everything for now,” he answered. “I suppose we should be heading off.”

“We should,” Lucinda agreed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be able to get us close enough to the coven that it won’t take us long to be there.”

“Do you have a portkey?”

Lucinda shook her head as she smirked and took Harry by the hand.

The thunderbird screeched in indignation and took to the air.

Before Harry could comprehend what was happening, he felt an unbearable coldness wash over and he was sent spinning into a blackened void.

When he managed to open his eyes a few moments later, he found himself laying on solid ground with his head spinning and stomach turning nauseatingly.

“Bloody hell,” he grumbled. “You know, there was a time I wanted to learn to travel like that. I think I’ll give it a miss.”

Lucinda laughed at his plight as she pulled him to his feet, and Harry had to hold on to her to prevent himself from falling over.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he pleaded.

Lucinda grinned in response but allowed him a moment to recover.

“The coven is just over that hill,” she explained, pointing in the direction they needed to head in. “Are you feeling better now?”

Releasing a deep breath, Harry nodded and the two of them began making their way up the hill.

Neither said anything as they walked.

The last time they had spoken when they had been alone had been the previous evening when their conversation had been interrupted.

If anything, there was no indication from the vampire that their talk had even taken place.

She was now aloof as ever, but before Harry could raise the subject, he spotted the familiar opening of the cave that would take them to the vampire clan.

As before when Harry had visited last, they were greeted by a duo of guards, both carrying swords at their hips.

Evidently, they had not expected Lucinda’s presence, but neither commented on it.

“Harry Potter,” one of the vampires greeted him. “Lord Draikon has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Please, follow us. We have been instructed to take you to him immediately.”

With a nod, Harry and Lucinda did so, and soon found themselves being led through the city streets at the other end of the tunnel.

Once more, Harry found himself the subject of interest as those that dwelled within the darkness here had gathered in droves to see the human walk amongst them.

“I would have thought that the novelty would have worn off,” he commented amusedly.

Lucinda shook her head.

“Humans rarely come here, and those that do are either quickly turned or killed,” she explained. “Well, some of them end up as playthings for a while, but they do not walk here freely, and they never leave.”

It was a rather ominous explanation, but Harry felt confident enough that he could escape if the need arose.

Not that he expected things would come to that.

Still, he remained cautious.

He may have been invited here by Draikon, but he was under no illusion that most here would happily feast on him if given the opportunity.

“Harry Potter,” the voice of the clan leader greeted him as they reached the same stairs he had been brought to during his first visit.

As ever, Draikon seemingly wished to make a spectacle of his presence.

“Lord Draikon,” Harry replied respectfully.

The vampire offered him a toothy smile as he beckoned him closer, his gaze flitting towards Lucinda.

“As we speak, a feast is being prepared in your honour,” Draikon explained. “As before, I offer you the hospitality of me and my people.”

Harry nodded appreciatively.

“Your note made it seem that it is a matter of urgency that we meet.”

“It is not a matter of urgency for me, but perhaps for you. We will get to it momentarily. Perhaps you should explain to your parents why you are not at school,” he suggested to Lucinda.

She nodded before turning away to do as she was bid, and Draikon watched her almost fondly as she left.

“I should have known that she would follow you,” he sighed.

“I didn’t ask her to.”

Draikon chuckled.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he replied cryptically. “She has grown into a fine young woman. Even I could not have foreseen just how she has blossomed.”

“You mean after her parents had her turned?” Harry bit back.

Draikon frowned before shaking his head confusedly.

“Has she not told you why she was turned?”

“She told me that her parents chose to be turned and brought her along with them.”

Draikon’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline.

“Is that what she truly believes?” he asked sadly. “I can assure you, the Tarasovs did not seek out my clan because they were enamoured with us.”

“Then why did they?”

Draikon released a deep breath.

“They sought me out to save their daughter.”

“To save her?”

Draikon nodded.

“The girl was born with a rare disease, one that saw her magic mature too quickly for her body to handle,” he explained. “Her parents had been to every human healer possible to find a cure, but one simply does not exist. It was as a last resort that they brought her to me. In jest I said that the only way to save her would be to turn her. Lucinda had only a matter of weeks to live before the disease would have killed her, and reluctantly, I agreed to do it.”

“Bloody hell,” Harry muttered.

“They insisted that they were turned too so that they could remain with her,” Draikon continued. “They did not become one of us out of admiration, but because of how much they love their daughter.”

“You turned her?”

“I did,” Draikon confirmed. “To balance out her disease with another, she needed a powerful vampire whose own magic would be strong enough. Despite my reservations and doubts, Lucinda survived.”

“Why would they not tell her?”

“Shame, I expect,” Draikon answered. “The disease the girl was afflicted with came about because both parents each carry a component that creates it within their children. It is a disease that she still carries, but it is balanced by her vampirism. Take a look around, Harry Potter. How many of my kind do you see that appear strong? How many do you believe are capable of casting human magic?”

Harry looked around at the crowds of vampires.

Many appeared to be weak.

“The ability for our kind to use human magic wanes once they are turned,” Draikon explained. “Some are capable for a few decades or so, but it eventually fades entirely. Lucinda’s human magic continued to strengthen even after she was turned. I can only surmise that the disease she carried and the vampirism found a way to co-exist within her. Anyway, let us discuss why it is I asked you here.”

Without another word about Lucinda, he handed Harry an envelope that had been sealed with a wax crest he recognised.

With a scowl, Harry removed the letter within.

To Lord Draikon,

I write to you with an offer that I believe you will be most interested in discussing.

It pertains to your current inability to hunt for your own blood as decreed by the laws of the ICW.

I am certain that we can reach common ground so that you may once more adhere to the nature of your kind without fear of persecution or reprisals.

Please reply via the agent who carried this message to you.

I eagerly await your response and wish you and your clan well.

Lord Voldemort,

Heir of House Slytherin

Harry’s burning gaze bored into the letter.

He knew of Riddle’s alliance with the werewolves, the giants, and various other creatures he managed to lure into supporting his movement, but nothing of the vampires.

How many clans had he written to.

“He sent the same offer to me a little over a decade before he fell,” Draikon spoke, pulling Harry from his thoughts. “I ignored it then, as I intend to do so now. I will not endanger my clan for a fool, and not one who will perish soon enough. Is that not so, Harry Potter?”

Harry nodded.

“He will.”

Draikon grinned, exposing his fangs.

“Then I feel no concern in handing over the man that delivered this message,” he declared as he led Harry towards a nearby building hewn from jagged stone. “He is a most curious one indeed and went to great lengths to avoid being taken prisoner. I thought you would be particularly interested in him as he has quite the capability of being a difficult spy to detect.”

Harry peered into the building through a barred window, his nose wrinkling at the scent of decay that wafted under it.

His jaw clenched as he caught sight of the chained man in a mixture of righteous fury and excitement.

“Well, if it isn’t Peter Pettigrew,” he greeted the rotund man.

Wormtail’s expression immediately became one of terror at the sight of Harry.

“You know this man?” Draikon questioned.

Harry nodded, his gaze never leaving Pettigrew.

“This is the man that is responsible for the death of my parents,” he explained to the vampire. “You have no idea what it is you have done for me, Lord Draikon.”

Although Harry had never met Wormtail, he had seen enough photos of the man as a teen to recognise him instantly.

(Break)

Cain had arrived in Britain with the others knowing that his stay there would be short-lived, but he had hoped that he would have gotten a few days with Harry before he left again.

Nonetheless, he was back on the continent now having apparated across the English Channel into France and then home to where he had spent his formative years.

The village had been empty.

All that had been left behind was the remains of those who had evidently protested the movement of the pack at the last minute.

The blood splattered around the dismembered limbs was congealed, and the smell of festering flesh meant that the pack had left days prior to Cain’s return.

Fortunately, he had the advantage of being able to apparate greater distances than the pack could move.

Many had once been muggles, so their journey would be completed on foot.

Still, Cain did not wish to be detected, and followed the path he believed the other werewolves would take through the Black Forest and into France where they would then make the journey north towards England.

Greyback would not likely risk passing through either the Netherlands or Belgium.

Both countries were hostile towards werewolves, and a pack as large as his would not go unnoticed.

France was a much bigger country than both, and the rural countryside could be taken advantage of to reach their destination.

It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that Cain got his first indication that his assumption of their route was correct.

It was whilst he was roaming amongst the thickets of the forest that he caught the faint scent of blood some distance away, and upon further investigation, he came across a smattering of it smeared on a large rock.

Taking a deep sniff, he nodded to himself.

It was werewolf blood.

He had been around enough of it being spilled to know the smell intimately.

The pack had passed through here, and though the blood was not so fresh that he was likely to happen upon them in the coming minutes or hours, he was undoubtedly one step closer to finding them.

With a sigh, he decided to rest for a few moments and eat some of the food that Harry’s godfather had insisted he take with him.

Cain had only shared a few brief conversations with the man, but he already liked him well enough.

His sense of humour was similar to Harry’s, and anyone could see how much Sirius cared for him.

The werewolf shook his head as he thought back on the previous evening when he had been packing his things.

“Why are you so loyal to Harry over your pack?”

Cain was taken aback by the question, but he could understand why any would ask it.

“Because that lot downstairs are my pack,” he answered simply. “Harry has been loyal to us all. He brought us together, and he kept us all safe from those that despised us for what we are. Have you ever heard of a werewolf and vampire being friends?”

Sirius shook his head.

“It doesn’t happen,” Cain pointed out, “but me and Lucinda, we get on well enough. We have our moments where our natures get the best of us at times, but Harry is always there to fix it. He earned my loyalty, and everyone else’s.”

Sirius nodded his understanding.

“I think that is how Remus always saw us,” he sighed. “We figured out quickly what he was, and he thought that we would abandon him. Harry’s father helped us all become Animagi so that we could be with him during his transformations. This was before the Wolfsbane potion came along. Now, there’s only the two of us left. If you find him…”

“I will bring him back,” Cain promised.

He would.

If Remus Lupin was with the pack, he would find him and ensure he returned home.

(Break)

Harry watched as the rat frantically tried to escape from the glass box he had placed it in.

He had spent much of the day pondering just what he would do with Pettigrew, often having to curb his desire to inflict harm upon the traitor.

More than anything, he wished to make Wormtail suffer for his treachery, tear him limb from limb for what he had done to James and Lily Potter.

However, as much as Harry wanted to be the one to exact revenge for his parents, he needed Pettigrew alive to secure Sirius’s freedom.

Besides, if there was any who deserved to take out their anger and pain on the rat, it was Harry’s godfather.

James and Lily had been murdered because of him, and Harry had grown without knowing his parents, but it was Sirius who had endured more than a decade in Azkaban with everyone believing him to be the one to have sold the Potters out.

Sirius had known James and Lily better than anyone, and though his intentions had been misguided, Harry understood now why he’d done what he had.

His godfather had been heartbroken, furious, and felt responsible for what had happened.

Harry couldn’t blame him for that.

Tapping the glass with his finger, he leaned back in the chair he was seated in.

Lucinda’s parents had been gracious enough to let him stay with them, and though Harry’s thoughts had been occupied by his prisoner, he’d attended the feast Draikon had held the previous evening.

Flashback

“Is this one of the hundred dances you want to share with me before I die?” Harry asked as he led Lucinda around the dancefloor.

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Maybe,” she answered with a grin. “Maybe I will be satisfied with this being our last.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No, I don’t,” Lucinda sighed, shaking her head. “Well, when you get married, I don’t think your wife will like me being around, and certainly not dancing with you.”

“When I get married?”

Lucinda offered him a pointed look.

“I may not be a pureblood witch, but I understand how it works. You will be expected to get married to another pureblood, she will have your children, and you will live happily ever after. That’s what purebloods do, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Harry agreed, “but I am not a pureblood. I am the Lord of two houses, but I am beholden to no one except myself. There are no forgotten contracts hanging over me, so as far as I am concerned, I can and will do as I please. I will not marry anyone for political reasons. My parents didn’t.”

“Your mother was a muggleborn,” Lucinda murmured thoughtfully.

Harry nodded.

“My father loved her, and even though I doubt that my grandmother was entirely pleased by his decision, he married her for no other reason than for love. I expect most of the other families looked down on him, but he wouldn’t have cared.”

“I suppose you have that in common?”

“We do,” Harry said firmly. “I do not care what anyone thinks. If I did, I would have gone to Hogwarts and began forging friendships and alliances there. It would have made my life easier.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“When have you known me to take the easy way with anything?” Harry chuckled.

Lucinda rolled her eyes at him.

“You don’t,” she huffed. “Sometimes, I think you’re a glutton for punishment.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

“I have punished myself so that I can punish my enemies,” he mused aloud. “I wouldn’t change a single decision I have made.”

“Not even the dying thing?”

Harry frowned.

“No,” he decided, “not even that. I came out of it stronger and with an understanding of how easily and quickly death can come for us. It humbled me in a way I needed.”

“Well, I’d rather you didn’t die again, not until you’re an old man.”

Harry swallowed deeply at the thought.

“An old man,” he muttered.

If Voldemort had his way, Harry wouldn’t see his later years, but if he managed to kill the Dark Lord, he did not know how long he would live.

According to Healer Galanis during his last visit with the man, shortly after he’d come of age, Harry’s body and magic was only growing stronger and his ability to heal so efficiently was astounding.

Even after some rigorous testing that should have left Harry requiring treatment to some of his organs, none had been necessary.

Healer Galanis could not predict how long Harry may live naturally, but his current estimate was for several centuries so long as he avoided being murdered or contracting a fatal illness.

Even then, the man doubted any such ailment would be able to take hold.

Both the phoenix and basilisk magic were aggressively reactive to any other foreign substances that entered his body, which explained why he had recovered so quickly when Crouch had dosed him with whatever he had.

“May I cut in?”

Harry’s thoughts were interrupted by Lucinda’s mother.

“Will your husband not take exception to you dancing with a younger man?”

The woman giggled as she gently pulled him away from a pouting Lucinda.

“Only if the younger man doesn’t keep his hands in a respectful place,” she whispered.

Harry chuckled as he began leading the woman around the dancefloor.

“You dance rather well, Harry Potter,” she commented.

“I was given lessons,” he explained. “I think your daughter would have been quite angry if I stepped on her toes too often.”

The woman nodded and the two of them fell silent for a moment.

“She is very fond of you. I tried to warn her to curb her feelings, but I do not believe she could.”

“I know,” Harry sighed sadly.

He could not forget the conversation they’d shared the previous evening.

“Just, don’t hurt her,” the older vampire pleaded. “She is much like any other of our kind, but she has managed to feel more for you than should be possible.”

“I would never hurt her, not intentionally,” Harry assured her, “but why haven’t you told her why you had her turned?”

The woman looked guilty for a moment before her gaze hardened.

“It never came up,” she murmured. “We always intended to tell her about her illness, but when we were turned, we changed more than we anticipated. I remember what it is like to feel love for my husband and for my daughter, Harry. I love them still but being what I am does not allow me to feel it the same way I once did. I do not expect you to understand, nor am I trying to make excuses.”

“I know you love her,” Harry returned with a smile. “You love her so much that you gave up everything just so she could have a chance to live. I think that says more about you than you could ever try to explain. I understand, why you did it, and I think it is the bravest and hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. For what it is worth, I admire you and your husband. It could not have been easy.”

The woman offered him a grateful smile before kissing him on the cheek.

“I will not pretend that I am pleased she has decided to follow you into this war, but I could not stop her even if I wanted to. Just keep her safe as best you can, and look after her, Harry. It may not seem like it, but she is the most precious thing to me.”

With that, she took her leave of the dancefloor and Lucinda returned only a moment later.

“Did you have fun with my mother?”

“Not as much fun as I have with you,” Harry replied with a smirk.

Lucinda narrowed her eyes at him but accepted his offered hand for another dance.

“If we keep going at this rate, I think we may need more than a hundred dances,” she whispered.

Harry nodded.

“You might be right.”

End Flashback

“Are you ready to go?”

“Just about,” Harry answered as he shrunk the glass box and handed it to Lucinda. “Remember, no one is to know about it until I get back. You’ll be able to portkey straight into the study.”

“How long will you be?”

Harry shrugged.

“I don’t know, but I don’t expect the elves will want me there longer than necessary.”

“Then we should get going,” Lucinda urged. “There is an elder tree near where we arrived yesterday. I’ll take you there before I portkey back to London.”

She took Harry by the hand, and the two of them made their way out of the city, both watched by a crowd of vampires as they were escorted through the tunnel to the outside of the cave.

“I expect we will see you again, Harry Potter,” one of the guards commented.

“I expect you will,” Harry replied, offering the man a bow. “Until then.”

The vampire guards waved them off, and Lucinda held onto his hand until they reached the elder tree only a short walk away.

“I will be back before you know it,” Harry assured her.

Pulling him into a tight embrace, she pressed her lips gently against his and activated her portkey before Harry could respond.

Once more, she was being rather guarded, but Harry did not have time to ponder that at the moment.

Not knowing what else to do, he placed his hand on the bark of the elder tree and waited.

At first, he felt nothing, but after a few moments, Harry was certain that the tree was almost whispering to him, that something within it was reaching for him.

He gasped and took a step back as the trunk opened, and Ana stepped out, dressed in what he could only assume was traditional, elven garb.

It was a dress of the purest white, a material he did not recognise hugging her figure, but somehow flowing around the young woman at the same time.

She was glowing ethereally, and she smiled at him in greeting.

“Come, Illarion is waiting for you,” she urged, holding out a hand towards him.

Harry accepted the proffered limb, and he felt the air being forced out of his lungs as she pulled him into the opening of the tree.

When they emerged on the other side, it was to a place he would not believe existed if he was not seeing it for himself.

He could only compare it to the Forbidden Forest he had experienced at Hogwarts, though there was no sense of danger here.

It was peaceful, untouched nor marred by the presence of humans, and the floral scents of the forest were so many that he could not pick out a single one.

Harry thought he could detect a hint of honeysuckle, or perhaps mint, but before he could be certain, each smell was replaced with another.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“Home,” Ana answered simply, a blissful smile gracing her lips. “Come on, there’s lots for you to see on the way.”

As she began leading him through a trodden path between the various trees, Harry did his best to take it all in.

Somewhere nearby, he could hear the sound of running water, and he suspected there was a waterfall disturbing the lake he could glimpse through the thickets.

Sporadically, he would also catch the sight of small figures, bounding between bushes to get a look at him.

“The children,” Ana explained. “They have never seen a human before.”

Harry nodded his understanding and waved at a few, though they hid when he did so.

“They’re shy.”

“They’re wary,” Ana corrected. “Humans are not so well thought of here. Many of my kind have fought wars against yours when they have tried to invade our land.”

“Should I be worried?”

Ana smiled as she shook her head.

“You are an invited guest,” she reminded him, “but I would not do anything that could be perceived as a threat. Illarion will not take kindly to it.”

“I have no intention of threatening your people.”

“I know,” Ana replied simply. “Just be careful around him, Harry. His words may not mean much to you, but he is not someone who wastes them.”

“Sounds like Dumbledore,” Harry snorted, falling silent as he spotted a large, white staircase a short distance ahead of them.

“Where are the houses?” he asked curiously.

“You have to look for them to find them,” Ana explained. “You have to know what it is you are trying to see. It is the magic of this place that keeps it all hidden.”

Harry could only nod confusedly.

He could see no houses amongst the trees, or any other building.

His focus was on the staircase, so perhaps the magic blinded him to everything else?

He knew not, but he could feel it all around him, a protection formed from something he knew was there, but could not seemingly hope to understand.

“Elven magic,” Ana whispered. “It is not like human magic.”

“It isn’t,” Harry agreed as they began their ascent of the staircase.

It took only a moment for them to reach the top where Harry was greeted by the sight of a large elven man, his thick hair tied into a braid.

On his hip, he wore a golden sword, and on his back rested a bow next to a quiver of arrows.

He too was dressed in white, but the three women who accompanied him favoured black.

The women’s eyes were milky white from blindness, but each looked at him with no small amount of curiosity.

“Harry Potter,” Illarion said in just above a whisper as he approached, his expression unreadable as he took in Harry’s appearance. “It has been many years since I have interacted with a human that did not result in bloodshed, Inanna’s father being the exception, of course.”

“I have no intention of seeing bloodshed,” Harry assured the elf who nodded appreciatively.

“You come in peace,” Illarion stated. “I feel no hostility from you.”

“Not towards our kind,” one of the blind women broke in. “Only for his own. Those he deems responsible for the death of his parents. He wishes for justice, but also peace. For both, there must first be blood.”

“These are our sages,” Illarion explained, gesturing to the women. “They advise me and inform me of events outside our lands. They spoke of you to me some time ago.”

“He who thwarted death when it was a given.”

“Twice now,” one of the other woman interjected a little too happily.

Harry could only nod in response.

He would not pretend to understand their magic, but as with the prophecy hanging over him, he could not simply dismiss it out of hand.

Still, he was taken aback and rather unsettled as the trio of women approached and began walking around him in circles.

“Both life and death flows through him,” one whispered. “The ever-lasting and the all-consuming.”

“The storm,” another added excitedly. “He is blessed with the winds, the rain, the thunder, and the lightning.”

“But his foe is the one who flees death better than any,” the third murmured. “His soul torn asunder and scattered.”

“Death,” the first whispered as she stepped towards Harry, their faces barely an inch apart as she breathed in his scent. “What you need will come to you sooner than you think. The trio shall be complete and then perhaps you can live. Neither can live whilst the other survives, after all, Harry Potter.”

Harry swallowed deeply as the woman spoke the words of the prophecy.

For a moment, she continued to stare at him through unseeing eyes before she reached out to him with a trembling hand.

“Death has no master, but where there is yet life, it cannot tread,” she said as she cupped his cheek. “There is much life in you, Harry Potter, more than you can comprehend. Should fate favour you in the bloodshed to come, you shall live it, perhaps in perpetuity. The girl should be allowed to go with him. She may have her part to play.”

Harry did not understand the ominous words, and he frowned as the three women took their seats once more before turning towards Illarion who wore an expression of curiosity.

“They have spoken,” he mused aloud. “Their words may hold little meaning now, but they will one day become clear. I cannot offer you an army. My people do not interfere in the affairs of men, but I shall give Ana my blessing to accompany you. I often forget that she is as much your kind as she is mine, and she should be free to make her own decisions.”

“Thank you, Illarion,” Ana said with a bow.

Illarion offered her a smile before shifting his focus back to Harry.

“I would see you again, Harry Potter. When your war has been fought, I would welcome you to hear tales of your victory. It has been some time since I have heard stories of war, and I expect yours will be most interesting. Humans come and go in what is little more than a moment to our kind. I do not expect you to perish so quickly.”

 Ana merely shook her head as Harry looked towards her for clarification.

“We should go,” she declared.

Harry nodded before offering a bow to the leader of the forest elves.

“Thank you for you hospitality, Illarion.”

“It shall be yours again, should you be victorious.”

Once more, Harry pondered the ominous words spoken as Ana led him back through the thickets of trees.

“I can see houses now,” Harry snorted, pointing towards the dwellings concealed within the forest.

They stretched as far as he could see, and in each window were others just like Illarion, some offering him a wave, whilst others watched him warily as he was taken from their home.

(Break)

It was seldom that Albus would cry, but as he looked upon his blackened hand, he allowed a few tears to break free and spill into his beard.

He did not weep for his impending death, nor for his foolishness that had led to him being cursed, but for the sister he had never truly gotten over the death of.

“For all of your brilliance, Albus, you always were a fool.”

Albus chuckled as he stared at the spot the essence of Ariana had occupied only a moment prior.

His life traded for a few more minutes with the girl had been worth it, and though Albus was not ready to begin his next great adventure with the state Britain was in, he did not regret retrieving the horcrux.

The now broken ring laid upon his desk, free of the curse Tom had placed upon, and no longer carrying a piece of his soul.

Harry would be one step closer to fulfilling the prophecy now, one step closer to putting Tom Riddle to rest.

Albus scowled as his dying limb.

He had been fortunate that he had returned quickly enough for Severus to slow the effects of the curse, just not in time that it could be countered completely.

One year at best.

That was what would remain of his life, and Albus intended to use it wisely.

Firstly, at the behest of Ariana, he would make amends with Aberforth, if his younger brother could find it within himself to forgive him.

Speaking with Ariana should go some way into mending the rift between the two brothers, though if Abe expected a warm welcome, he would be sorely mistaken.

Ariana had admonished Albus the same way their mother had when they had been boys, and Aberforth could expect the same.

Albus smiled fondly at his childhood memories but frowned as he was pulled from his thoughts by the flaring of the fireplace.

“Amelia,” he greeted the woman as he stood, allowing the sleeve of his robes to cover his hand. “What’s wrong?”

The woman’s expression was grave and she swallowed deeply before answering.

“Cornelius was found dead at his home this afternoon, Albus,” she explained. “I cannot say for certain, but everything points to him having been murdered. We will need to call an emergency meeting of the Wizengamot first thing.”

Albus deflated before nodding his understanding.

He had suspected something like this would happen when Tom failed to gain political advantages.

Since Harry had arrived at the Wizengamot chambers, he had made waves that even Lucius Malfoy could not contest.

As such, Cornelius had paid the ultimate price.

“I will be ready,” Albus assured the woman.

Amelia nodded.

“I think it is best you make sure that Potter is present,” she urged. “Merlin knows he’s the only one with the guts to stand up to the others. We will need him if we are going to stop Lucius manipulating this to his advantage.”

“Indeed,” Albus agreed. “I would not worry about Harry’s attendance, Amelia. I expect even your entire auror force would be able to keep him away.”

With a mere nod in response, the woman’s head vanished from the fire and Albus took his seat once more.

He felt terrible for what happened to Cornelius, but the man had brought everything on himself.

Despite being warned at the beginning of his tenure not to involve himself with Lucius, he had done so, and every decision he had made since had led to his untimely demise.

Still, it was not the fate of the now former minister that would plague Albus’s mind, but what would come next.

Who would be able to replace Cornelius and prove to not be as foolish as him?

Albus knew not, but the coming meeting would undoubtedly be pivotal in the war against Tom.

If a suitable replacement was not found, with the Ministry and Wizengamot in disarray, the Dark Lord would certainly seize the advantage.