Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Chapter 47 - Twins

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Three years ago, Harry flew for his life - chased by a Hungarian Horntail fiercely protecting its clutch of eggs, a singular golden orb hidden among them. Her scales were black and her eyes were yellow and, at the time, Harry thought them evil. Now, instead of staring up at hundreds and hundreds of faces from the crowd, he stood surrounded by seven such dragons, an emissary to the magical link the Wizarding world had with these great creatures. Their eyes were also yellow, each with a distinctive hue, and they bore no ill-will. He wondered why he hadn't noticed the same bravery, the same wisdom, the same kindness before. Conceivably, it was Harry that was growing wiser.

The Votary stood as the servants of the dragons and he was their unworthy leader. Others of that Order had worked decades with Singehorn and his kin. Some like Dakhil had served for centuries. Harry, to the contrary, had joined the Votary only a few months ago, and yet, the dragon leader saw something in him that was commendable. What it was, Harry had yet to learn, but this much at least he knew - the magnificent dragon wounded before him had a great role to play in the events that were about to unfurl. Already, ghosts were swirling about their position as if something might happen at any moment. The young dragon, Tûzkár, swatted at them with his tail, but to no effect.

Overhead, the comet Ebyrth burned as brightly as ever. So much so, in fact, that Mars was nowhere to be seen. The moon, unwilling to be outdone, seemed to puff out a bit and appeared unnaturally large in the sky above, blanketing the night with a sea of light. It was enough to reveal that Singehorn's chest had been slashed badly. Claw marks crisscrossed and blood seeped freely from the wounds, dripping to the charred forest floor.

Harry wanted to talk about the ghosts. He wanted to do what he could to stop the Centaur village behind him from burning. He wanted to defend Hogwarts against the onslaught of darkness descending upon it. He wanted to run to the falls to protect his family and friends. There was so much to explain, so much to do and so little time, but first Harry had to heal the dragon that had risked his life to save them all. He stepped forward.

"Let me--"

"You'll do know such thing, Harry," Singehorn growled; Harry's ring helped him understand perfectly. "I already know what you did this evening for the girl. Your strength, even with the stone, needs replenishment."

"True," Harry agreed, rubbing his hand over the chest wound that still had not fully healed. A vision of Draco Malfoy spilt into his thoughts and Harry quickly tossed them aside, unwilling to face the contempt he was feeling. "Or, at least, it was true. Tanwen told me to use the stone to catch the dragonfire of the Chinese Fireballs. I did and I don't need to check to know that its energy pulsates, waiting to be released. I won't need to use much of my own to help heal your wounds, Singehorn. You are not of the Votary; hence, it is not forbidden."

The great dragon growled and, without asking permission, Harry summoned the stone into his hand and whispered the incantation, "Bravery... Wisdom... Love."

The dragon's injuries were extensive, but the stone's energy helped weave the wounds together without much direction on Harry's part; all that is except for a small stain of green near the dragon's heart. Try as he might, Harry couldn't remove it. Finally, unwilling to risk more of his own energy, Harry retreated. The circle of dragons spun about as he fell to his knees.

"You weren't supposed to use your own power!" chided Tanwen.

"Only a little," offered Harry weakly. Singehorn stood, raised his neck toward the sky and roared. Harry could see he was both pleased and perturbed at the same time. As the young wizard elevated to one knee he sensed that Dakhil was gone; turning he confirmed it was true. The vampire was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Dakhil," he asked to no one in particular. "I couldn't have been gone more than a moment. Where did he go?"

"I assumed you knew," Singehorn said with significantly greater strength in his voice now. "The moment you used the stone, he vanished."

Harry was curious why Dakhil had left, but thought he might know the reason why. The old vampire was still holding a grudge. Certainly Dakhil thought that he should have been the Primate of the Votary, not Harry. He probably didn't care to watch as Harry used both the Ring of Onyx and the Heart of Asha to help care for their leader. It was understandable, if a bit petty. No matter... Harry had other concerns.

"Singehorn," he began with a grave tone. "About your heart... There's a--"

"I know, Harry. I know," Singehorn interrupted. "It is no injury. It is simply the clock of my fate. There is nothing you can do to set me apart from my destiny with the stars."

"The stars?" Harry asked.

"Great dragons...," began Tanwen.

"Truly great dragons," corrected Drahmir.

"Yes. Truly great dragons," continued Tanwen, slightly irritated at the interruption, "when they die, are raised to the heavens."

"Wizards believe in something similar," said Harry. "They believe--"

"No, you misunderstand," interrupted Tanwen. "The gr-- truly great dragons are raised to the heavens for all the universe to see. Not their bodies of course, but their fire, the essence of all dragons. It is not another plane of existence, or an alternate reality. Their fires are set anew in the heavens above us. They become a star."

"A star?" Harry asked in disbelief. "Like... a star - star?"

"True enough," said a cold, stern voice suddenly at Harry's side. A hairy arm was raised above Harry's head. It held a bow with an arrow notched and aimed directly at Tanwen's heart. It was Firenze, and his eyes burned with anger. His coat was lathered with sweat and he smelled of fury. "The Centaurs have known of your blessing since the early times. We once thought you noble creatures; tonight has changed all that. At this range, I'm certain to send three, or four of your kind to see if they are truly great dragons. Somehow I doubt we'll see the birth of any new stars sprouting forth from your demon blood."

"Firenze," said Harry with a hushed voice.

"Tell me, dragon," said Firenze, still starring at Tanwen, his jaw clenched. "Did you enjoy burning my home to the ground? Were you laughing as you breathed fire to incinerate the homes of my kin? Are you disappointed that our mares and our young escaped and you spilt no blood? Or were you unaware, you stupid beast, that the herd knew of your devilry long ago."

Tanwen shifted and Firenze made to let the arrow go, but Harry stayed his hand. Firenze looked down upon him fiercely. "I've killed three of their kind tonight already. They are swift in the air, but on the ground, from this distance... one arrow each will do. They're not much more than overgrown chickens after all."

"These aren't the ones that attacked Terntalag, Firenze," said Harry quickly. "They've come to help. I swear. Look to the east and you'll find the guilty." Harry pointed toward the dead Chinese Fireballs. "It is unlikely that any new stars were born this evening on their account."

Uncertain and still aiming the notched arrow directly at Tanwen, Firenze looked down at Harry and then toward the direction the wizard was pointing. Slowly he said, "I was told specifically by Magorian not to question you tonight, Harry Potter." He ground his teeth without saying a word more and disappeared. Before Tanwen could ask where he'd left to, he had returned, a shimmering green scale in his hand. This time, his bow was strapped to his back.

Firenze looked up at the black dragons before him and then back at the green scale. They were clearly different. He nodded his head in approval and then turned to Harry.

"This one..." He held up the green scale. "...has been gutted by another great beast." He looked keenly at Tanwen, noting the blood that still trickled down her neck. "It is a strange war indeed. You speak to them?" Firenze asked. "They understand you?" Harry nodded. Fearless, Firenze stepped toward Tanwen and held the green scale up.

"Is this then my enemy? Is this the dragon that attacked Terntalag?"

Harry translated and Tanwen nodded, bowing her head slightly, a puff of smoke issuing from her nostrils.

"The enemy of my enemy is my ally," said Firenze with far less passion in his voice. "I am in your debt and, if there is ever a way I can repay it, I will honour that alliance." He paused, unsure how he might continue. Finally, he found the words.

"Now, however, I must ask yet another favour of you. I have led many wizards to this place and they will be here shortly. As you may know, Wizards are not as level headed as Centaurs. On our way, we have been attacked by many dragons bearing this same scale. We have defeated those who would challenge us, but another foe is close behind - Dementors. There are too many to keep pressing through the forest with our injured, and our bows are too few. I would need but two of your fire breathers to send them to their doom. Would you help us?"

The other dragons looked at Singehorn. It was not their nature to meddle in the affairs of wizards. The pleadings of a Centaur held little more importance. The Hungarian's willingness to stop the attack on Terntalag was more coincidence than desire. The Horntails were out for blood and the Fireballs happened to be above the village. Even so, their leader shifted his weight and the ground rumbled.

"What says the Primate?" asked Singehorn, looking intently at Harry. But Harry didn't hesitate.

"I would ask you send two - Drahmir and Talisan," Harry said. "Two will suffice and not frighten the wizards more than they already have been." Then he turned to the Centaur. "Firenze, you'll need to send word that the battle has changed. It is not what I was led to believe. The Horntails are joining us and, at the castle, perhaps the Hebredean Blacks. The wizards need to know the difference and, if they don't, they should keep their wands sheathed. That goes for the Centaur herd as well."

"The Covens are but a mile away, Harry Potter," said Firenze coolly. "Before the next shooting star, the entire forest will know." Firenze turned the scale about in his hand, the moon's light shimmering from its surface, squeezed it once as if imbuing it with the anger he would not show, and slipped it away into the leather pouch that hung at his side. Before Harry could thank him, the Centaur disappeared toward the south.

"Tanwen," said Harry, looking up to his enormous friend, "thank you for your patience. Your wisdom in not striking will go a long way towards Singehorn's plan."

The dragon bowed her head slightly, but said naught else. She, more than the others, could see the hatred in Firenze's eyes. Harry wondered if she were convinced that the Centaur would keep his word. With over a hundred wizards marching toward them, they were extremely exposed squatting on the ground and surrounded by trees.

"We should all take to the air," she offered Singehorn.

"As the Primate has spoken, Drahmir and Talisan will attack the Dementors chasing the wizards our way," said the dragon leader. "If we destroy that which drives them forward, we will have more time to heal our wounded. Igneus and Rakesh are weak and need rest, if only for a moment." Harry looked at the two great brothers and, scratches aside, could not discern anything of significance wrong with either of them. Rakesh began to protest and Singehorn growled, cutting him short.

"Erm... yes, Singehorn," Rakesh rumbled. "I'm not sure I have any fire left in me and... em... my tail aches."

"Then it is decided," said Singehorn. "Make haste!" Drahmir and Talisan nodded and, unfolding their massive leathery wings, took to the sky, swirling the ash that hung in the air from the burning village. Harry also noticed that the nearby ghosts seemed to move in the gust of wind, almost as if they had substance.

"Fire will fill the sky!" roared Drahmir as he flew south.

Harry looked at Singehorn. "By making the problem your own," he suggested, "you had justification to act... to choose sides."

"Sides? Life, Harry," said the great dragon, "has many sides - not one, not two, but a number of facets which, depending on how the light strikes, reveal a spectrum of colours that spans the rainbow. All too often, wizards seek the absolute, because they like the cleanliness of 'choosing sides' - left or right, good or evil, black or white. They're unwilling to shade the lights and brighten the darks, unable to add the colours that make life's choices so difficult. And while, sometimes, the choice before us is clear, when life and death hang in the balance, it should never be easy. My failure is proof enough of that."

There was another rustling in the bracken as someone approached, but even before she appeared, Harry knew who it was. Somehow he was linked to the members of the Votary. Just as he knew that, at this moment, Dakhil Barghouti was filled with anticipation, so too did he know that Katana was overcome with relief at the sight of the flight of dragons before her.

"You're safe!" she cried out breathlessly, stepping out of the trees. The flames of the village flickered off the sweat of her brow. "I thought... perhaps the Centaur..."

"Katana!" called Singehorn. "It is good to see you well! But should you not be in the East, searching the world as is the rest of the Order?"

"You sent the Order away on some ruse of a treasure hunt!" exclaimed Harry in disbelief. "That's why I have only sensed Dakhil. Why did you scatter them across the globe?"

"It was not safe here. I was only trying to protect them, Harry. The Votary may be able to withstand dragonfire, but your flesh may still be slashed with a well placed talon."

"Dakhil gave us the orders," gasped Katana, a thin smile upon her face. "He is not a good liar." She was panting, and her left side was covered in blood, gluing together the rings of her chain-link mail. Still, she walked in among them proud and, as she drew near, her tremendous white smile erupted, glowing in the night. There was a large gash on her shoulder that had been hastily healed and looked like it might open again at any moment. Harry was about to treat her when Tanwen bent low and blew flame upon the wound. For a dragon, it was a whisper of a flame and it reminded Harry of a mother that might kiss a boo-boo... not that Aunt Petunia ever paid him the same kindness. When it was over, the wound was healed and Katana placed her hand on Tanwen's snout in gratitude.

"I understand why you did not want the others here," she said solemnly. "I would not have believed it myself, if not for my own eyes." She took in a deep breath, regaining her strength. She had run hard to be so close behind Firenze. "The Fireballs attacked us... attacked me though I reached out and signalled our intentions of peace."

"Madness has consumed our friends," said Singehorn. "It consumed me as well, though I see more clearly now. It will take many years to repair the trust that has been destroyed here today."

"You would go back to the old alliance?" asked Harry, incredulously. "Even after all they--"

"They, Harry," interrupted Singehorn, "is not all Fireballs. Ti-Lung was hungry for vengeance and thirsty for power, not unlike your Dark Lord. We are all ready to be free of the shackles of wizards. Giants do not fare much better at the hands of your kind. Would you condemn all giants because a few battle against you this evening in service to a madman?" Harry shook his head. "No, I thought not," said Singehorn pleased with Harry's response, though he expected no other. "Anymore than I would condemn all wizards because of the pain a few have caused the dragons."

"Quite a few," added Tanwen. Singehorn looked at her and nodded.

"True enough." He let go a forlorn breath and glanced toward the south. "And while I have faith that those of your kind approaching do so in friendship...

"Tanwen, your words, as always, are wise. You and the others take to the air. Stay vigilant; you are not the only creatures of power flying on this night. Rakesh, I hope your fire has returned." Without speaking Rakesh raised up and roared at the stars. An enormous burst of flame issued forth. Harry could sense the creatures about him recoil in fear.

Following the flame to its tip, Singehorn looked up at the lights burning bright overhead, not unlike a Centaur. "Harry and I have some things we must attend to." Tanwen nodded. As she and the others began to lift off, swirling a hoard of ghosts out of their way, Harry could sense Singehorn calling him and Katana to the other plane.

When they arrived, the great stone steps that Harry had climbed when first he met Singehorn and been destroyed. Great crags of rock were strewn about the desert landscape, being reclaimed by the wind and sand. Katana was dressed in a white gown, but Harry wore red, a symbol that he was Primate of their Order. It felt awkward. There was clearly a formalism that Harry had not yet embraced. For his part, Singehorn the man wore robes of cobalt blue that shimmered like the sea. He towered above them both, but his eyes were smiling.

"What has happened here?" asked Harry.

"This..." Singehorn gestured with a wave of his arm. "This is what I have built. This is what, by my own hand, I have destroyed. I doubt I'll have the time I need to restore it to its glory. That task will be left to Tanwen."

"Tanwen?"

"Do you not approve, Harry?" asked Singehorn in return.

"No... er... I mean yes, but--"

"My time is near at hand," Singehorn interrupted. "I doubted that I would see the dawn, but you..." He patted his chest. "You have given me a while longer. Perhaps, there will be time to set things in motion - to restore peace among our kind. I hope you will guide Tanwen on such a path. If the Centaur had not been at your side this evening, I doubt she would have resisted the temptation to strike first. Tonight... as they fell from the sky... she did not need to utterly destroy our brethren and yet..." He sighed and sat down in the sand, crossing his legs. Harry and Katana did the same. "She is fiercely loyal. Will you help her, Harry?"

"I have sworn my allegiance and my oath is to serve."

"As is ours to you," said Singehorn. "I have chosen well, don't you think, Katana?" She nodded in agreement as Singehorn closed his eyes and bowed his head. Perspiration began to drip from his brow and Harry looked to Katana for some assurance, but she seemed as uncertain as he. Then, to the right of Katana appeared another figure in white robes - Merek - the Healer that had returned Harry's sight. He was followed by eight other members of the Votary. They all sat, adding to the circle with Harry and Katana. The last to arrive was Antreas Darbinyan, Gabriella's brother. He looked at Harry with surprise and concern, but Harry was unable to offer reassurance in return. In all, there were eleven members of the Votary present and one noticeably absent - Dakhil Barghouti. The sense of foreboding Harry had experienced earlier began to grow.

Singehorn wiped his brow with his sleeve and drew in a deep breath. Summoning the council had clearly taken a toll on the dragon, though how that manifested itself in the real world, Harry didn't know. Singehorn slipped his tongue across his sharp teeth and considered the words he was about to say.

"We have precious little time and there is much to accomplish. I am now in the West with Harry and Katana. There has been a fissure between the dragons and, at this time, we are no longer safe among the Chinese Fireballs. Nor would I put faith in the members of their Order. As you know, battles are rising up all over the world, none more dire than the one now upon us here in Great Britain."

"Singehorn," began Marek, "are there injured? Do you need aide?" This first question began an avalanche of questions and offers of assistance, none more strident than the pleas of Antreas to return to Britain.

"Enough!" roared Singehorn, silencing all conversation at once. "Your offers of aid are generous, well intentioned, but improperly focussed. I need your help, but not here in the forest behind Hogwarts Castle. All of you are scattered about the globe. It was not my original intent, but it will now pay in our favour. By now you will have discovered the secret rookeries hidden in the countries to which you've been sent. I need you to make a difference right where you are. You must try to convince any dragons that will listen of our plight. Where they exist, sway the thoughts of the members of their respective Orders. Word of tonight's events will have reached most, but not all. Those willing to lend aid are days away, unable to immediately offer tooth, talon and flame, but all know the old ways. Our Primate, Keeper of the Black Ring and Caregiver to the Heart of Asha, goes to battle the darkness, let them share their fire that we might purify this land.

"All must know that we do this, first and foremost, to unshackle ourselves from the yokes of wizards. It cannot be accomplished by flying the clouds to war. Instead, it begins by demonstrating our power and our compassion. Throughout, we will include those wizards that seek light above darkness, truth above deceit, love above hate. It is by these precepts we abide: Bravery... Wisdom... Love. So it was when the Great Alliance was made and so it will be again with all the Wizarding World. Now more than ever we must push back the darkness seeping into all corners of our world."

Without speaking, the various members nodded in agreement. Harry, as Primate, felt the need to affirm Singehorn's words. He did so and added, "If it is within my power, I will strike down the evil we now face before it can do more harm. But I will, above all, follow our code. I will not wield the power you have bestowed upon me needlessly, or recklessly. Bravery... Wisdom... and above all - Love. I failed you earlier this year; it will not happen again."

While he sensed that some members felt he should wield his power, no matter the cost, he saw a thin smile curl up at the corner of Katana's mouth. "Then it is decided," she said. Again all nodded, but Antreas looked as if he would burst.

"Singehorn," said Harry, "I would ask a favour of you. I know the Carpathians are far, but it would be best if Antreas join us in our battle as soon as he can arrive. He was the linchpin to our success protecting your home and, without Dakhil, Katana and I need another member of the Votary to represent the dragon's interests should it be needed. He is closest. There are three battle sites, hundreds of wizards and other magical beings and soon the Hebredeans will join our cause. I could sure use his wand here, steeped in the magic of Grigor Darbiyan. This war has many fronts and I am but one."

"So be it," agreed Singehorn, as relief washed over Antreas. "Though you will find, Harry, that you are not alone. You have made alliances that Dark minds can only dream of, and they will provide you powers that are unimaginable. Tonight, we all will be tested; what remains in the crucible will guide the fate of the next age."

With that the vision passed and Harry found himself back in the forest, face to face with Singehorn. Little time had passed. The other dragons were still just rising to the sky as the village behind him crackled and popped in the flames. The large Hungarian looked quite pleased with what had just come to pass and Harry could sense the welling of hope. Still, the dragon's eyes looked weary. Two ghosts swirled by, one a youth riding a skateboard and pushing it along through the air with one foot. It was the strangest... A flash of light caught Harry's eyes. It looked like wandlight.

"Singehorn," Harry said urgently. More lights began to flicker through the trees. He could hear voices in the distance. The wizards would soon be upon them. "The ghosts... they think I will lead them to heaven. But I think they have it wrong. I think that you--"

Harry's left hand suddenly burned; more specifically the ring finger of his left hand. He looked down and the etched band about his finger, the marking on the flesh itself, glowed red.

"Gabriella!" he cried in agony. Pain swept up his arm and into his shoulder, driving itself into his mind. At once he could feel her anguish, he could taste the wet dirt, he could sense the water and he knew she was surrounded by evil. She was in trouble and needed help. "She's at the falls! Voldemort is there!"

"Then you must run, Harry!" Singehorn said, stretching out his wings without hesitation to join the others in the sky. "You will be faster afoot. We will follow from the air. Go to her, but don't be brash. Be wise!"

Harry watched as the dragons spun once about and then followed their leader toward the falls. At the same moment wizards, giants and Centaurs burst through the trees, Firenze at the fore. Some paused momentarily to watch the dragons ascend and disappear, but most moved straight toward Terntalag, quenching the flames as quickly as they could. Firenze stopped at Harry's side.

"Your friends have left you," he said, pointing to the sky. "It was not necessary. The Dementors were defeated and the forest now knows the kindness they have shown us."

"They race to the falls," said Harry quickly. "As will I. Voldemort has come."

A few of the wizards heard the name and echoed it. Word spread quickly, but everyone held to the task at hand - saving the village. Harry was surprised to see Frank and Alice Longbottom leading them into the flames, their wands spraying water everywhere. For a moment Frank caught Harry's eye. His lips were tight with determination. He smiled, revealing wrinkles about his eyes that harkened back to happier memories, winked and disappeared into the flames. Harry wondered about Neville and again Draco crept into his mind.

"Go with haste, my friend," said Firenze. "Know this much at least... Felspar and Macleta are near. They will do whatever is in their power."

Harry turned to leave and ran head long into Ronan. His fur was wet with sweat and smelled burnt. Splotches of black goo were splattered all over his coat - Dementor blood. Harry wiped it from the side of his face.

"Ronan?"

"Hurry, colt!" he snapped, ignoring pleasantries. "Run with your--"

"--second sight," finished Harry. "Yes, I know." And before Ronan finished his bow, Harry plunged into the forest, running toward the falls and contracting space as best he could. His mind was set on where he needed to be and the trees and creatures of the forest swept past him - blurs of another world less perceptible than the wings of a hummingbird.

Harry's finger throbbed, sending jolts of pain up his arm. Flashes of what Gabriella was seeing, or sensing dashed across his mind. He ran faster, if that were possible, ignoring his disagreeable body. His arm became heavy as if a great vine of Devil's Snare was trying to pull him down. It worked its way up to his throat and he could feel it squeeze. As he struggled to pull in great gulps of air, it was difficult to remind himself that it wasn't he that was choking... it was Gabriella.

He shook his head, pushing the vision aside and drew in a deep breath. With his forearm he roughly wiped away the drips of sweat that were now running into his eyes. He tried to concentrate on the images that he was seeing through Gabriella's eyes, but the ghosts he kept passing through were too distracting. They were thick, like a swarm of mosquitoes thirsty for blood and, just like insects splatting against his goggles as he flew on his broom, Harry would splat into one and for an instant sense their joy, their apprehension, their sense of urgency. These and the images he was receiving from Gabriella collided into a great cacophony of thoughts. For the first time he began to appreciate what Ron felt when he couldn't shut out the voices he was hearing with his mind.

"Fo-cus!" he yelled at himself.

There was an image of Snape smiling, his yellow teeth cracked and gnarled. Dakhil... yes, Dakhil was there - impassive and stoic. That's how he looked on the outside, but inside was something quite different. Harry already had known the vampire's feelings were in tumult. Then he saw it - the cloak. Gabriella was wearing the... no it wasn't Gabriella... it was Cho. Jamie was in her arms. There was Ron... Hermione... Centaurs and Death Eaters....

As he grew near, the images became more clear, more intense. They were at the falls. Jamie was crying... both Jamies...

Again, Harry shook his head; he was seeing twins. Cho was standing defiantly by the falls. No... Cho was standing by a large outcropping of rocks. Cho and... Cho. There were two Cho Changs, and each held a baby in their arms. Each wore a brilliant white cloak. "The Horcrux," Harry whispered to himself. "Draco was right."

Just as the muscles in his legs began to scream in protest, Harry started to smell the forest growing damper... danker. He knew this smell well. He slowed watching the path ahead closely with his second sight. To Harry it seemed like it had taken hours, but he covered the distance in minutes. The falls were only a hundred yards ahead, when a Centaur approached him quickly from the north. Her hand touched his shoulder.

"Harry Potter."

He blinked and looked up to see Macleta, her eyes more fierce than ever he had seen them before. "Your mates are under attack by the Dark One who has come in from the north with two dozen of his followers. Their friends are no match for his skill with a wand. Some of my kin staved off an attack by Dementors, but the grounds are unsteady and many fell over the cliff to the rocks below. Others have been trapped by the Dark One's wizards. Felspar leads a contingent that is sweeping around the other side of the lake that has formed near the top of the falls. They will move in from the west and offer aid soon. These grounds continue to shift and all would do well to leave them quickly. Time is short. Below the falls, your kin have arrived. You know these waters are dangerous and many may be thirsty. It is an unfortunate combination. While the greater evil is before us, the greater danger lies below. Dozens could die. I will travel down the falls to your kinsmen for I know your fate with the darkness ahead has already been sealed."

It was the most Harry had ever heard a Centaur speak in his life, and then he realized she hadn't said a word. She was speaking telepathically, an honour shared only between Centaurs. He nodded, pulled his wand and began to work his way closer to the clearing of the falls. Again Macleta stopped him.

"One thing more," she said and now her face bore an expression of confusion. "You have but two mates, is that not true?" she asked.

"Yes," Harry said.

"There is a third," said Macleta, "and she too bears a child in her arms; she is a twin to Cho Chang. When first she appeared, it confused me, and now it confuses the Dark One. One of them is a deceiver, Harry, but I now see her purpose. It will not be long before he realizes as well. Move quickly... move cautiously... know that our friends are near and, Harry, use your--"

"--second sight," he finished. With her bow ready in her left hand, she lowered her head and in a flash vanished to the south. For his part, Harry moved toward the sound of the rushing water. At first he used his second site to discern where the wizards ahead were. It was clear that Voldemort was flanked by about two-dozen Death Eaters, but no more. He was using stealth, deliberately travelling with a small contingent in hopes that all focus would be on his large army to the south that, even now, was attacking the castle walls. If he were successful here at the top of the falls, the wizards below would have no hope of defending against the torrent of dark magic that would rain down upon them.

He could smell the burning carcasses of Dementors, but his heart told him that there were more swirling deep in the trees behind. In his mind the water of the falls radiated like the sun and Harry had to forgo his second site to see anything near the water's shore. When he did, he saw Cho holding Jamie near the edge of the falls. Ron lay motionless on the ground and near him were Gabriella and Hermione, each holding their throats gasping for air.

He was about to rush in when another witch near his friends, wearing white robes shouted out a spell. Harry didn't understand it, but it sounded Chinese. The roots of the trees beneath Snape's feet sprang up and grasped him by the legs. Momentarily, the spell on Hermione and Gabriella was broken and they retrieved their wands. Then Harry's heart stopped. The witch that had just cast the spell was Cho Chang and in her arms was little Jamie. It was impossible.

She was standing alone on an outcropping of rocks. It was near Cho's hidden stronghold. The Cho near the falls seemed not to be confused that her identical twin was carrying an identical child and wearing an identical white robe, but Gabriella and Hermione were dumbfounded. Three blasts of red coming from Death Eater wands shot directly toward the Cho at the rocks and she let them strike her. They ricocheted harmlessly off her cloak like ping-pong balls.

"The cloak," Harry breathed to himself. "The Horcrux." Then he looked at the Cho near the falls. She too wore a white cloak. But which one? And which Jamie?

Pulling Ron with her, Gabriella knelt behind a large stone for protection. "Who are you?" she yelled at the new arrival.

"Cho!" yelled the one near the rocks. "She's an impostor!" She pointed at her twin near the fall's edge.

"Take them both!" cried Snape in exasperation as he slashed away at the tree roots still tangling his legs.

All this time, without realizing it, Harry had been moving closer and closer to the skirmish now before him. Gabriella was placing hands on Ron to help revive him. Hermione was trying to pull the one Cho away from the water's edge, but she refused to move as she struggled against little Jamie who was wriggling in her arms to be free. When he looked back at the Cho on the rocks... she was starring right back at him. No one else had seen him, but it was as if they were connected somehow. "Cho?" he lipped silently. Slowly, she set Jamie down and the child stood, clinging to his mother's leg. Her attention snapped to Snape.

"Harry will destroy you, Voldemort!" she cried. "You're just too blind to see!" She cast another spell and this time the trees behind him split in two, dividing like a single-celled amoeba. The space between trees was now half what it was an instant before. A few Death Eaters found themselves trapped behind, but the ones already near the Cho on the rocks continued to move toward her, albeit slowly. Cho Chang was accomplished, but such magic was beyond her.

"Your second vision..." Harry chided himself. He closed his eyes and looked toward them, examining each aura. The waters were blinding, but he could just make out his friends and family... Cho, Jamie, Gabriella, Ron, Hermione and at the rocks, more discernable because she was further from the water's edge, a rainbow of colours that could only be... Nymphadora Tonks. Clinging to her legs was Dobby the house elf, a small beacon of energy compared to that of the wizards about him. How she had done it, Harry didn't know.

What he did know was that Voldemort would uncover the deception soon enough. She couldn't keep the ruse up indefinitely. Instead, she was using tactics to distract, to buy... "Time," Harry whispered. Sirius said he'd be at the falls in two hours and... how long had it been?

"Call for them, Gabriella!" Tonks yelled to Harry's wife. His love pointed her wand to the heavens and cast a beam of blue light that shimmered and sparkled like the tail of a comet. She was summoning the dragons; she didn't know they were already on their way. He needed to help them... to offer more confusion, to purchase them more time. As much as he wanted to rush in, wand blazing, he knew he'd never win a duel against Voldemort. He never had.

"Play it smart, Harry," he whispered Sirius' words to himself. If there was another, larger plan in play, Harry would do just that. "Someone I've been close with," Harry said smiling to himself. "Easy." Concentrating on Cho Chang he metamorphosed into her shape. His unruly locks straightened and stretched down his back. He bleached his robes white and enchanted them with a shield charm. The charm would work for a few spells, but not all night and not against a Killing Curse, but Voldemort knew that history. He would never attempt it again. Then he picked up a large stone and transformed it into something resembling a squirming child. He wrapped it in his cloak to conceal his somewhat pathetic attempt of transfiguration. Professor McGonagall would not have been pleased. Finally, he took only a few steps into the clearing on the side of the small lake nearest Voldemort, choosing again to use his normal vision. For this he would need to see Snape's eyes so that he could know the reaction.

"Have you come for my child, Voldemort?" Harry cried. "Or do you desire all that remains of your eternal soul?" Harry rubbed the cloth of his robe between his fingers. He half expected to be blasted, but Snape's eyes kept darting from one Cho Chang to the other. Ordinarily the Dark Lord would have been able to discern the difference at once, but not, for some reason, on this night. It may have been the purifying energy of the waters pooling all around, or some mind trick Dakhil was playing at his side. Perhaps it was something more, something Sirius knew was about to happen. Harry could see that Snape did not look well. He took another step into the clearing.

Three Cho Changs stood at the top of the falls hidden deep in the Forbidden Forest. Each held a child, but only one held the child Voldemort coveted. What Dakhil's role was, Harry couldn't determine. It was unsettling to watch him quickly help Snape to his feet, freeing him from the roots that had ensnared him. He then cast a spell turning the loamy earth to stone, blocking any second attempt at the same magic. Could they have been allies all this time? Snape nodded to Dakhil and quickly regained his composure. He had a number of Death Eaters at his side and still more trapped behind the trees, searching for a way to join their master.

"Bring me the boy!" he hissed. Harry thought he meant James, but instead Dakhil walked backward toward the trees, reached through an opening too small for any full-grown wizard and pulled out a Hogwarts second year student - James Chang, Cho's brother.

The moon was near its apex in the night sky and just to its right roared the comet Ebyrth. Its tail seemed to curl and Harry wondered if it hadn't just missed the red planet. Ghosts began to swirl about the clearing, moving in and out of the trees and with each passing moment, their number grew. The light was intense and in that light Harry could see James Chang's eyes. They were open, but blank. He looked like a walking corpse. Harry could hear Hermione shudder near the falls. Cho took a step forward, but Tonks deliberately pre-empted her.

"Leave my brother alone, you bastard!" she cried. She grabbed the white cloth in her hands. "Touch one hair on his head and I'll destroy this! I swear I will!"

"Liar! The cloak is mine to destroy!" yelled Harry in return, hoping it might keep Voldemort off centre.

"Ladies," said Voldemort with a smug bow. "Did you think that Patrick O'Riley was the only weak minded wizard I left a little... gift with?" He began to chuckle, straightening his robes. "Which one of you truly loves their brother?" The chuckle turned to laughter and in between guffaws Voldemort began an incantation. Suddenly, Gabriella stood, dropping her wand at her feet. A moment later, Ron also stood at her side.

"No!" yelled Hermione, "Ron. RON!" But Ron's eyes were blank, his face expressionless and, together with Gabriella, he began to walk along the edge of the small lake toward Voldemort.