Harry Potter and the Sword of the Hero

HARRY POTTER AND THE SWORD OF THE HERO

Chapter 22 - Brace Yourself Against the Cold

Every area of trouble gives out a ray of hope; and the one unchangeable certainty is that nothing is certain or unchangeable.
--John Fitzgerald Kennedy

"I am here to teach you curse after endless curse, to push your magical abilities to the very limit. When I'm through with you, your magical arsenal will be rivalled by only a few."

Harry nodded attentively as Thomas Fright, his offensive and defensive magic trainer, outlined his plans for him. They were once again in the small unused classroom on the ground floor, next to the Great Hall.

"That said I will be teaching you some amazing defence techniques as well. Higher class shields, stunners, charms. Auror grade magic."

"Auror grade?" questioned Harry, raising his eyebrows. He was fairly sure that Voldemort fought at a higher level of magic than Auror grade. It would definitely take a lot more than Auror grade magic to defeat him.

Fright took Harry's question as simply surprise, and nodded quickly. "Yes, Auror grade. It will be difficult, and very high levels of magic will be involved..." Fright looked at Harry for a moment before continuing. "You'll make it," he said. "You have to..."

"Can we start now?" asked Harry, ignoring Fright's final comment.

"Excellent," nodded Fright. "Determination is one of the most valuable things a man can have in this world. I'll start today with a simple curse, but effective. The Arcostis curse."

Harry frowned. "Never heard of it," he said honestly. "What does it do?"

"It is an offensive curse which causes the victim to be temporarily disorientated. It completely takes away your sense of direction. To you, up is down, down is up. You look left you're actually seeing right. It isn't a painful curse, but is classified as such because it can be used so dangerously."

Harry nodded, thinking that Fright sounded as if he'd memorized that straight out of the textbook. Which he may have done thought Harry. "Sounds good. What's the incantation?"

"Easy one really. Arcois," Fright said.

Harry found the curse relatively easy, succeeding in producing a very powerful one on his third attempt. Fright was his test dummy, and the bearded man was smiling at Harry's quick progress.

"Siocra!" Fright whispered the counter curse and the room stopped spinning for him. "Excellent, Harry. Don't think I've seen anyone pick up this curse that quickly. What else do you know?"

For the next hour and a half Harry was drilled on curses and counter curses. Thomas Fright seemed to know exactly what Harry had learned over the years, everything from the jelly leg curse to the Unforgivables was revised. Most of it was already second nature to Harry, so he spent some time thinking about the DA.

The last meeting had been two nights ago, when Harry had laid down the law. He had been spending his time since then thinking about a way to get the DA to be taken seriously by Dumbledore, and the Ministry. The fact that Mr. Weasley was Minister would help quite a bit, but Harry couldn't help but think that most in the world would think they were some kind of joke.

Not if it gets out I'm the leader Harry mused. As much as he disliked his fame, it would help for this. And he thought if we're properly equipped, then everyone will see we're serious. He thought of the millions of galleons his vault now held thanks to Sirius. Twenty four million galleons. I could use that money to fund the DA. Buy proper training equipment, books, defence items. I'm going to have to visit Hogsmeade. Hermione had found a dozen people who would be interested in joining the organisation as well. Harry only knew a few of them by sight, but he trusted Hermione to pick the right people.

"The Blasting Curse?" questioned Fright.

"Reducto," Harry answered absently, still lost in his thoughts.

He had been practising Thought magic whenever he got the chance, and was surprised at how much control he had over the vast amounts of power inside him when he put it to a use. With a simple thought he could levitate anything up to the weight of an average book. Rose will be surprised he smiled to himself. When it came to other spells, though, Harry was at a loss. He had tried an Incendio charm, to create fire, but nothing had happened. It confused him because there was no place for the magic to come from him. With a wand it came from the wand, and wandless magic it came from his hands, but with Thought magic he didn't know. He would have to ask Rose.

Harry had had his first lesson with Siamus Scrapfold that morning at five a.m. As Dermas had told him, 'Old Scrappy', was ruthless when it came to physical exercise. He had started off with some light stretches, and from there things had taken a turn for the worse. Harry had to lap the Quidditch pitch and carry weights until he fell in exhaustion. After two hours of torture, Harry had stumbled back up to the common room at seven, just as Ron was getting up.

"Shield charm?"

Harry jumped up with a start as there was a tapping on the window across the room. "Protego" he said as he walked over to the window and pushed it open. Hedwig jumped back off the sill and then flew gracefully into the room, circling the ceiling for a moment before landing on Harry's shoulder; one of her white feather's falling to the ground as she did.

Harry removed the small piece of parchment attached to her leg and muttered a small thanks. Wondering who could have sent him a letter using Hedwig, Harry unfolded the parchment and instantly recognised the untidy scrawl.

Harry,

Haven't been seeing much of you lately, what with your special lessons and all. How about tea at my house this weekend? Five on Saturday okay?

Hagrid

Harry smiled and placed the piece of parchment in his pocket. He had been meaning to go see Hagrid for awhile but had been too busy. He would make sure he went on Saturday.

"Nice owl you have there," said Fright as Harry turned back around, Hedwig still on his shoulder, pecking his ear affectionately.

Harry genuinely smiled at Hedwig as she rubbed her head across his cheek. "I know. Had her for five years now," he said, smiling at the memory of the day he had been given her in Diagon Alley.

A siren sounded in the distance which signalled the end of the period, and the beginning of lunch. With Hedwig still on his shoulder, Harry walked across the room, said goodbye to Thomas Fright, and walked through the old wooden door of the classroom and into the Entrance Hall.

It was packed with students slowly, and loudly, making their way into the Great Hall for lunch. After Harry nearly stumbled to avoid colliding with a group of Hufflepuff's, Hedwig flew off his shoulder in irritation and up into the rafters. Harry called after her but she was gone. Oh well he thought, and entered the Great Hall.

When Harry broke through the crowd and caught sight of the Gryffindor table, he saw Ginny sitting alone at the far end, hunched over something and writing quickly. Harry walked down the length of the table, ignoring the pointed whispers and stares he attracted almost constantly, and sat on the opposite side to Ginny. "Hi," he said, his goblet filling with pumpkin juice as he grasped it.

Ginny looked up from the table and smiled weakly at him. She then proceeded to quickly put away the book she'd been writing in. Harry glimpsed the cover of it as she did, Everlasting Thoughts. She was writing in the journal he had given her for Christmas, though seemed embarrassed that he'd seen her do it. Harry didn't mention it.

"How's your day been?" he asked.

Ginny relaxed, and pushed a wisp of her auburn hair back behind her ear. "Eventful. Accidentally melted my cauldron in Potions and the Krup I was walking in Magical Creatures nearly drowned in the lake." Harry smiled, and Ginny returned it. "Other than that everything's been fine. How about you?"

Harry blinked and absently twirled the ring Ginny had given him around on his finger. "Today's been hard. They've got me exercising at five in the morning and then having to remember every single curse I've ever known or used." Harry tried to make it sound light, but the strain in his voice was evident.

Ginny noticed this and she frowned. "It will all help, though," she whispered quietly, mindful of all the other people now seating themselves in the Hall. "You want to have the best chance of- of...." Ginny trailed away and looked down.

"Of winning?" questioned Harry, an eyebrow raised.

Ginny just nodded silently, peeling an orange. She had never talked to Harry about the Prophecy, she didn't even know if Ron and Hermione had? And right now she understood just how hard it must be for Harry. God how does he do it? she thought. How does he keep going, keep it all together....? He had faced down Evil that would leave most quivering in fear. He had faced it down, and found himself better than it. Ginny glanced into his impenetrable emerald green eyes, trying, and failing, to read his feelings. All she saw there was a haunted look. He smiled at her as he buttered a slice of bread, and it didn't reach his eyes. She returned the smile anyway, realising that some things needed to be said, and others were best left unsaid.

"Harry," she began, meeting his eyes. "How do you feel?"

Harry blinked and then frowned. "Feel?"

"I mean right now. Right at this very moment."

Harry shrugged and took a sip of his juice. "Tired...." he answered evasively.

Ginny narrowed her eyes and shook her head. "You know that's not what I meant."

Harry nodded and then sighed. "I know... it's just... I don't like to talk about my emotions," Ginny sighed now. "Especially when I can't be sure that they're even mine," Harry ended quietly, Ginny heard him though.

She paused for a moment, she didn't know what to say to that. "You still feel You-Know-Who's emotions?"

"Voldemort," he corrected. "And yes. Just once or twice a day but its still there."

Ginny and Harry fell quiet, both of them lost in dark thoughts. "So... how's your training coming along," she said, trying to lighten the mood, knowing that he'd told her just a moment ago.

Harry was thankful for the subtle change of subject. With a thought he sent the apple in front of him up into the air. Ginny gasped. "How did you do that?" She hadn't seen a wand, or seen him move his hand.

"Thought magic," he whispered. "I can only do simple levitation spells so far, but with more practice...."

"That's amazing," exclaimed Ginny, really impressed. Her eyes were alight with excitement, but as they met with Harry's he saw that they turned dark. "How do you do it?" she whispered.

Harry was silent, he saw the double meaning in that question. It wasn't about Thought magic. Letting the apple drop Harry ran a hand through his hair to stall for time. How do I do it? he wondered. Fight? Carry on? That's simple... I have someone to carry on for.

"I'm not sure...." he finally answered quietly, the tables were quite full now but they hadn't reached their end of the table yet. "I suppose it's having something to fight for... someone to fight for," he ended quietly, giving her a meaningful glance.

Ginny's breath caught in her chest but her face belayed no emotion. Could he mean... she thought. "Harry-"

"Hey, mate," said Ron, sitting down next to Harry. Hermione sat down next to him. "Bloody hated potions. Now that you're gone Snape's having to find new ways to take points from Gryffindor. I lost five for completing my potion early!"

Harry only half heard what Ron was saying. Most of his attention was still locked on Ginny. She was about to say something when Ron had sat down, but now she just blushed slightly and sighed, before turning away. Harry waited a moment and then turned to Ron.

"I think we're going to have to go see Dumbledore tonight," he said. "Get the DA known."

Ron looked to be in thought for a moment. "All right, but you better do the talking. I've no idea what to say."

"Honestly," smiled Hermione, grasping Ron's hand tightly. "Just repeat most of what Harry said the other night."

Ron nodded. "How about this. You handle Dumbledore, Harry. And I'll talk to my Dad at the Ministry."

"Yeah that's good," agreed Harry. "You're still coming with me to see Dumbledore, though."

*****

"What can I do for you two gentlemen?" asked Dumbledore, smiling as he took a seat behind his ancient mahogany desk. Fawkes let out a shrill note as he spotted Harry, and it warmed him through.

"We've come to talk to you about the Defence Association," Harry said, both he and Ron seating themselves in the plush chairs in front of the desk. The portraits of previous Headmasters watched them curiously, and Ron shifted under their gaze.

"Oh yes," smiled Dumbledore. "Marvellous idea that was. I believe we have Miss. Granger to thank for that."

Ron nodded under Dumbledore's twinkling gaze and Harry smiled slightly. "We've come to tell you that I'll be taking the DA to... a higher level." Harry paused here as Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "What I mean to say is," he continued as Ron sat silently by, "is that Voldemort and his Death Eater's have a knack for getting into Hogwarts."

Dumbledore nodded and laced his old, wiry fingers together. "Sadly, yes. He has always found a way in if he was determined enough."

"He has," agreed Harry. "That's why I want to make the DA a protective organisation for the school. Fully funded from the money in my vault. A proper, equipped fighting and defence force to protect the school and discover if Voldemort has any power here."

Harry stopped there and studied Dumbledore's face. The old Headmaster, as always, had an expression upon his face that was unreadable. After a moment he spoke. "And how do you plan to do this? I believe the DA holds only a little under two dozen members?"

Harry heard, with some satisfaction, that Dumbledore was deadly serious. He was taking their proposal seriously. "It does, twenty members in all. I've extended the membership, though. Anyone who wants to join from fifth year and above can, assuming they're loyal and can be trusted. I was thinking of increasing the membership to about one hundred."

"And does this include possibilities for members from the Slytherin house?" asked Dumbledore.

"It does," nodded Harry. "Though I don't expect many to join, maybe a few."

To this the Headmaster silently agreed, but he could think of one or two that would join if given the chance. "Very admirable, boys," he said, his blue eyes twinkling warmly. "I see there has been a lot of thought put into this."

"There has," replied Harry. "The war is really beginning to start. More deaths in the Prophet, more disappearances, and.... now the death of a second student at Hogwarts because of him." Harry thought of Ethan's dagger as he said this. "I want to turn the DA into an official organisation, protectors of the school, recognised seriously in the eyes of the professor's here and of the Ministry. We'll be a capable fighting force, ready to fight if Voldemort attacked the school."

Dumbledore seemed slightly troubled by this last statement. "You would have students face Voldemort's armies?" he questioned.

"I would," Harry answered instantly. "It wouldn't be the first time," he went on thinking of the Department of Mysteries last year. "But if he attacked I don't think the Death Eater's would even think twice about killing a student. This way at least we can fight back. One hundred trained students are better than one hundred scared students."

"Agreed," nodded Dumbledore, his brows creased in deep thought. "And you are going to train all one hundred?" he asked quietly.

"Not directly," Harry said. "I'll have people to teach under me, but we'll mostly be learning defensive spells and duelling techniques."

Ron nodded at this and Fawkes sung quietly. Dumbledore seemed to be lost in thought for a moment before a smile broke out across his ancient face. "You never cease to amaze me, Harry," Dumbledore said honestly. "I officially recognise the Defence Association as a capable defence force for the protection of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As long as you obey school rules, you have the full support of myself and the staff."

Harry nodded, in truth he had expected no less. "Thank you, Professor," he replied, standing as he sensed the meeting coming to an end, Ron and Dumbledore stood with him.

"I believe you want to present the DA to the Ministry, and therefore to the world at large?" questioned Dumbledore.

"Yes, we had planned to do that," Ron said finally speaking.

Dumbledore nodded. "Might I suggest building the organisation into something impressive before attempting this? I'm afraid many won't see the need otherwise."

Harry hadn't thought of that, but it made sense. "Yeah... yeah. I'm going to need to go into Hogsmeade soon. Tomorrow if possible. I want to purchase some equipment."

Dumbledore slowly nodded as he thought. "I would like for you to go with some protection, Harry. But most of the Order is away at the moment....."

"How about if Dermas comes with me?" asked Harry. Over the past few weeks he had come to trust Dermas Trask, the blade master.

"Very well," replied Dumbledore, moving around his desk and stroking Fawkes gently. "I'll speak to Dermas later," Dumbledore paused here and surveyed Harry for a long moment. "Thank you, Harry," he said finally. "For taking a stand. The school needs to see that something is being done."

Harry nodded but didn't say anything, Ron shuffled his feet next to him and Harry thought it was time to go. "Goodnight, Professor," he said.

Dumbledore stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Goodnight, Harry" Dumbledore replied warmly. "And goodnight, Mr. Weasley."

*****

The next morning Harry woke early at his now routine time of five a.m. The darkness was heavy outside his window and he let out a huge yawn as he pulled on the robes he'd laid out last night.

After collecting his wand and placing it in the holster on his arm, Harry gave one final, wistful look at his bed before heading down to the common room. As it always was at this time, the room was deserted. Harry walked quietly across the silent room and headed out into the old, cold halls of the castle.

He had to meet Siamus Scrapfold in the Entrance Hall for his morning exercise. This would be the second time he'd have to do it and Harry wasn't looking forward to having to run around the Quidditch pitch with heavy dumbbells. Each corridor and staircase he passed was deserted, which was to be expected, and Harry found himself thinking of the Hogsmeade visit he'd be going on later today.

I'll need to by robes, special ones for the DA. Wand holsters maybe.... advanced texts on defence spells. As Harry turned a corner, the torch on his left magically sprang to life but that was normal, he came to the balcony above the entrance Hall and saw Siamus jogging on the spot by the door, his grey hair and sharp eyes taking in the whole expanse as his robes whirled up and down with him.

"Morning," called Harry, taking the steps two at a time.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," Siamus answered, a small, uncharacteristic grin on his face. "Look out."

Harry frowned and stopped walking, not understanding Siamus. It all became clear a moment later as he heard a cry behind him, and then something hard colliding with the back of his knees, sending him painfully to the floor. Harry had no idea what was going on, it felt like someone had just whipped him.

"Bugger," cried Harry, his wand instantly in his hand as he rolled onto his back to see who had hit him.

"Caught off your guard, Harry?" laughed Dermas, his training stick swirling dangerously in his right hand, an amused glint in his eyes.

Harry laughed in spite of himself. "You'll pay for that one," he groaned as Trask offered him a hand to get up.

"At the rate you're progressing with swordsmanship, I'd say I'd be paying for that one in a few months, minimum." Dermas swung his stick and Harry dodged it. "Very good."

"Are we done, gentlemen?" asked Scrapfold, still jogging on the spot. "Harry, Dermas will be joining us in the mornings from now on."

Harry turned to look at Dermas, who smiled goofily at him. "I'll be on my guard then."

Harry, Dermas, and Siamus exercised outside in the cool January morning for two hours. At the end of which Harry was exhausted. He had done half a dozen laps around the Quidditch pitch, carrying weights, and that was followed by push-ups and sit-ups. Yes, he was definitely looking forward to breakfast.

The Sun had risen as they'd been exercising and Harry and Dermas now made there way back up to the castle. Siamus had stayed to continue exercising, as he felt that he hadn't gotten nearly enough of a workout yet. Harry didn't argue, lest he be drawn into it as well.

"After breakfast, Harry," Dermas said, pushing his curly brown hair back out of his eyes. "We're going to sword train for a few hours and then I think you want to go into Hogsmeade?" he ended with a question.

"I do," nodded Harry, smelling the heavy moisture on the air as the early sunbeams warmed his back. "Time I bought the essentials...."

"What? Firewhiskey and wizarding cigars?"

Harry shook his head and laughed. "Not quite."

After breakfast in which Harry said a brief hello and goodbye to his friends, promising to see them later. He was back out on the grounds, down by the lake trading blows with Dermas in their clearing. Harry had progressed marvellously over the time he'd been learning to fight with Dermas and could now successfully parry most of Trask's blows.

Though try as he might, Trask was just too fast for Harry to be able to return a hit, and he always ended up on the cold ground. They trained most of the morning until the sun was high overhead at eleven o'clock. Harry's only lesson that day was Physical Combat with Dermas. On Wednesday he had it from dawn till dusk, but thankfully he was going into Hogsmeade soon.

"I think we should get going, Harry," Dermas said and Harry nodded. Dermas then threw his stick back to the ground. "I know you can Apparate," he winked. "So let's head to the gates and go from there."

Quarter of an hour later and Harry appeared with a small pop on the busy High street of Hogsmeade. His gaze instantly scanned the crowd for any threat and he saw Dermas doing the same thing as he popped into existence. There were several hundred people in the street and the wind blew heavily across the road and passed the thatched wooden cottages as they walked. Blending into the crowds, Harry and Trask agreed that the first place they should go to would be the Dragon Armourer two streets over. Harry had seen this shop once before, he'd passed it with Padma months ago when he'd needed some formal robes for his Order of Merlin ceremony.

The street it was on wasn't as busy as the High street, and Harry saw Dermas casting glances at people who they passed, his hand was surely grasping his wand in his pocket. The Armourer was exactly as he remembered it. The building was entirely black with dirty, grazed windows. A sign hung out from the door that read:

Elendil Armourer's
Maker's of the Finest Battle Wear
Since 78 A.D.

Harry read the sign and was about to enter the shop when a sharp pop cut through the air to his left. He turned quickly, as did Dermas, but there was no one there. Indeed the street was almost deserted. Harry was sure someone had just Disapparated, and that was normal, if not slightly suspicious. He gave it no more thought. With a nod to Dermas they opened the black wooden door and entered the dark armour shop, the door creaking on its hinges as they went.

They first thing that hit Harry about this shop was the smell. It smelled strongly of leather, or more accurately, dragons hide. There were long columns of armour running the length of the store, brown dragon hide hung from the walls, ceiling and was piled on the floor. There were also a few stands that held robes, of all colours. Swords and knives were on display as well, and Dermas headed over to these display cases straight away.

The lighting in the shop wasn't that good, and it was very musty in the air. He was looking at the shields, complete with different crests, as a large man appeared behind him.

"Can I help you?" he asked gruffly, not that used to having customers in his shop. Harry jumped and turned, he hadn't even heard the man approach, which was amazing considering his size. He wasn't as big as Hagrid but he wasn't tiny either. He was about six and a half feet tall, had long bear like arms that were knotted with muscle, and a big bushy grey beard that hung halfway down his chest. He was bald and had sharp, piercing grey eyes.

Harry glanced over the shop and saw Dermas testing the balance on one of the swords, he turned back to what he assumed was the owner of the shop. "Can I help you?" he repeated.

"Er... yeah," began Harry. "I'm looking to buy some dragon armour. Top of the range stuff, doesn't matter what the cost is. And I'm looking to buy a lot of it."

The man frowned and looked Harry up and down, his eyes lingered on the scar for a moment and then he clicked his teeth. "I thought I recognised you," he said, extending his hand. "Good to meet you, Mr. Potter. My name's Marcus Elendil."

"Nice to meet you too," replied Harry, shaking the man's hand. "Interesting shop you've got here."

"Aye it is," agreed Elendil, placing his hands on his hips and looking absently around the shop. "You're after dragon armour, did you say?"

"I did," nodded Harry.

"And price is no problem?" Marcus Elendil asked, raising an eyebrow.

"None at all," assured Harry.

Mr. Elendil smiled now through his wiry beard. "Great. Not much call for my best stuff these days. But if you're willing to pay for it," he said, beginning to walk towards the store counter, Harry followed. "I have some of the strongest stuff ever made. From the hide of a Hungarian Horntail, died in its prime so the hide's harder than diamonds."

"Sounds good," said Harry.

"It is good," Elendil smiled to himself. "Right, take that robe off so I can get your size."

Harry nodded and removed his robe. He was wearing his everyday jeans and shirt underneath. Just as he put them down, there was a loud crash across the shop and Harry looked up to see Dermas quickly pick up one of the shields he'd just dropped.

"Er... is he all right?" whispered Elendil to Harry, as the tape measure began to gather measurements.

Harry smiled and inwardly laughed. "He's a bit... touched in the head, if you follow me."

Marcus did and chuckled slightly through his beard. "Right... hang on. I'll be back in a minute. Afraid blacks the only colour I've got this stuff in, that all right?"

"Fine," called Harry as Marcus disappeared into the back room from the door behind the counter. As he waited, Harry went over and talked to Dermas.

"Nice blades they've got here," he said, nodding to the display case holding four scimitars with golden handles.

Harry agreed and turned his attention to the selection of wand holsters on a rack above the display case. There were five in a row and all were made of the same hide, just different colours. I'll need quite a few of them he thought. But I'll need measurements for every single person in the DA first....

"Here we go, Mr. Potter," said Marcus as he returned, dropping a big bundle of black objects onto the display case in front of Harry that held the scimitars. "Boots, pants, cape, chest plate."

Harry nodded and picked up the chest plate. It was as hard as diamonds, harder even, completely black and held together by two straps of the same material joining it in place. Though it was fairly big, and very hard, it was feather light. Harry thought that he wouldn't even notice it when he was wearing it. "It's excellent," he exclaimed. He didn't know much about Dragon armour, but he could tell that this was some really good stuff.

"My finest work," mumbled Marcus absently. "Of course you probably won't be wearing the cape and pants all of the time, but the boots and chest piece will meld themselves to your shape over time. At first it may feel slightly stiff, but give it time and you won't know its there."

"I'll take it," Harry said.

Marcus nodded. "Now the chest piece you can take with you now, but the other items I've had in stock so long need some restoration work done to them. Okay if I send it on in about three days?"

Harry thought that that was for the best. "Fine. After I've paid for this, though, I need to discuss another matter."

Elendil nodded. "I'll ring all this up then. You can put the chest piece on now if you like, give it a chance to shape."

Marcus gathered up all the armour and carried it away to the counter, as Harry pulled his black shirt over his head. Just as he took it off Trask wolf whistled and Harry shook it off laughing. "Ouch," grimaced Trask, seeing the two scars on Harry's arm. One from Wormtail, the other from Voldemort at the Granger's. "How'd that happen?"

"Voldemort," was Harry's one worded answer as he unlaced the chest plate. After he'd undone all the knots on the black armour it fell apart into two separate pieces. Harry picked up the back piece and placed it on his back, leaning forward slightly so it didn't fall off. He then placed the front piece over his chest and joined the two. With a simple wave of his hand all the knots were tied, and Harry stood up to stretch the armour.

It was about one centimetre thick all around and Harry found it hard to breathe. "I think that's a little tight," commented Dermas.

Harry agreed and loosened it slightly. It felt better now, and Harry found he could move just as easily as if it wasn't there. As was to be expected, it was a little stiff, but that would fix itself. With a satisfied smile Harry put his shirt back on and then put his black Hogwarts robes over that. Glancing in the mirror on the wall, he couldn't see any difference to his shape. The chest piece was light, and there was only a slight restriction as he moved. It was perfect.

Harry walked over to the counter where Marcus was waiting patiently. "Fits well?" he asked.

"Can hardly feel it," said Harry. "How much do I owe you?" he ended, pulling his money bag out of the magically expanded pocket in his robes. It held two hundred and fifty galleons.

"All of this," Marcus began, "because it's one of a kind and made from the strongest dragon skin available... It comes to one thousand five hundred galleons."

Harry felt his jaw drop but he fixed it quickly. "Damn," he cursed. "I don't have that much on me."

"S'll right," said Marcus, reaching for one of the many rolls of parchment in a box on the counter. "Gringott's Bankers Cheque," he said, unrolling the parchment and handing Harry a quill.

Harry looked over the document and read it through. It was a simple cheque, much similar to that of Muggle's cheques. He wrote his name on the appropriate line, and then filled in the sum to be paid. He saw that the bearer section had already been stamped with Marcus' business name. After signing it and dating it, Harry handed the quill and cheque back over.

"Excellent," smiled Dermas. "We done then?"

"Not quite," Harry said, looking at his watch. It was coming up twelve thirty. "Mr. Elendil," began Harry. "I was wondering if it would be possible to be quite a few sets of armour from you?"

"Aye it would," nodded Marcus. "How much, and what are you looking for?"

Harry smiled. "I would like one hundred wand holsters, please."

Marcus' eyes widened. "That's... that's.... fifty galleons a piece.... five thousand galleons!"

Harry nodded. "That's not all either. I would also like one hundred sets of the armour you just sold me."

Marcus Elendil, a giant of a man, nearly fainted as Harry said this. Dermas couldn't help but laugh as he swayed on the spot. "You... you're serious, Mr. Potter?"

"Deadly so," replied Harry. "Would it be possible for you to come to Hogwarts in two weeks time, get all the measurements you need?"

Marcus leaned against the counter to catch his breath. "For an order that size I'm willing to do just about anything."

Harry smiled and extended his hand, Marcus took it. "Nice doing business with you. Just out of curiosity, how much is all this going to cost?"

"Well...." Marcus began quietly, obviously thinking hard and fast. "Good quality armour will set you back about a thousand galleons a set. Sadly I don't have any material to make some to match yours, but I could get enough of a lesser dragon to make the quantity you want. I'd say about one hundred thousand galleons for all the armour and wand holsters." Marcus looked as if he didn't believe Harry would pay that, or even consider paying that.

Harry thought for a moment. Of the millions in his vault, that was barely two month's interest payments. "That's fine. I can expect to see you at Hogwarts then?"

Marcus nodded quickly, still disbelieving the order Harry had just placed. "I'll send an owl along with details and final costs and everything. Thank you, Mr. Potter," he said sincerely. "I'll see you in two weeks."

*****

After leaving the Dragon Armourer's and a very excited Marcus Elendil, Harry and Dermas walked slowly back to the High street of Hogsmeade. Harry could hardly feel his new chest armour as he walked and he marvelled at how light it was. It was strong enough that he could be hit across the chest with a sledgehammer, and not feel it and yet it was so light.

As with all dragon products, this one had some magical properties. If Harry were to take a stunner to the chest or back, the armour would deflect it. It also blocked other spells but they were varied and depended on the strength of the spell.

The wind blew strongly as Harry walked passed an old, empty building with boarded up windows. Clouds threatened rain overhead and maybe even a little snow. It was almost February now; though snow could still be expected. Dermas walked along quickly with his hand in his pocket, a look of determination and mixed worry upon his face. After a moment of confusion at this Harry and Dermas separated in step to avoid a crowd of wizards, it was then that Harry saw something out of the corner of his eye.

He couldn't be sure, as it was just on the edge of his sight, but he thought he saw a man trying and failing to follow them and not be noticed. Harry knew this man, although he'd never met him. He had seen him many times in his nightmare visions at night, standing with the Dark Lord as he murdered, tortured, and killed. He was a Death Eater, that much Harry was sure of, but whether or not he was following them remained unknown. Harry thought to mention this subtly to Dermas.

"Dermas," he began whispering, a warning tone in his voice. "There may-"

"I know, Harry," Dermas whispered back, his hand hard around his wand in his robe pocket. "Keep your eye's forward, we'll have to make it back into the more populated areas."

Harry stiffened instantly, his hand itching with magic. He kept as straight a face as he could as again he recognised another Death Eater across the street and up a bit, standing next to a torch post by a small thatched cottage. "He's not alone...." Harry said, barely more than a whisper. Trask quickened his pace.

Two minutes of quick, innocent walking and Harry and Dermas turned onto the busy main road of Hogsmeade. There were dozens, hundreds of people here but Harry couldn't relax, two Death Eater's was not coincidence. His mind jumped back to just before they had entered the Armour shop, he had heard a pop like someone Disapparating. Could that have been a Death Eater? Gone to alert his master? Harry didn't know, but he wanted to get back to Hogwarts, and fast.

Dermas was thinking the same thing, and his sharp eyes, which were most of the time full of laughter, now scanned the crowds coldly, efficiently, searching for possible threats. Fighting in the First Dark War had left him with enough sense to know when to be on guard. "Right, Harry, we're going to Apparate up to the castle gates," he whispered, pulling Harry out into the road, away from a crowd so they could Apparate safely. They were just outside The Three Broomsticks. "On three. Ready?"

Harry didn't hear a word Dermas said. His vision blurred and his ear's were filled with screams. He collapsed to his knees but wasn't aware of doing so, a fog passed before his eyes.

"HARRY!" cried Dermas, quickly removing his wand from his pocket and grasping Harry's shoulder. "What is it? What's happening?"

Harry heard Dermas' voice only as a deep echo; most of the noise he heard was that of deadly screams. In some small corner of his mind that he kept for himself Harry realised what was wrong and why he was so cold. No... he thought Not now.... He shook his head and this momentarily cleared his mind. The first thing he saw was Dermas' concerned face. "Dementor's," he croaked. "They're coming."

Trask blinked and gasped with a start. That can't be right he thought. I don't feel a thing. No sooner had he thought that than a chilling gust of wind blew into him, and through him. The sky grew slightly darker, as if heavy with enormous black rain clouds. "Oh shit," breathed Trask, beginning to feel the effects, though still unable to see the creatures. He was amazed that Harry could sense them so quickly, and realised a moment later what that meant. Jesus, what has he seen?

It happened a moment later, as more and more began to feel the effects of the soul sucking creatures, the Dementors. Dermas fell to his knees next to Harry, who had paled terribly and was breathing raggedly. More wizards and witches on the street began to feel the cold now. Then they appeared! Like a demon rising from Hell dozens of black robed creatures emerged from the darkest parts of the street. Creating rifts in the air through which they travelled, one after another they came. Fifty appeared in less than a minute.

Harry heard his mother's final screams, heard Cedric die, heard Ethan die, heard Sirius die, and saw brief glimpses of the worst moments of his life. Voldemort rose reborn from the cauldron, the Dursley's home exploded in a ball of green flames, Sirius fell almost gracefully through the veil. The screams of the dead were interrupted for Harry when they were joined by the screams of the living. Hogsmeade High street had turned to night as Harry picked himself up and stood on shaky knees.

Dermas was struggling to stand next to him, and Harry shook his head to clear the pain that fed the beasts. He saw in a sort of haze a Dementor lowering its hood to a victim outside Honeydukes, another across the street was doing the same. He saw dozens of the black creatures advancing up the street, crippling innocents as they went. Shrouded in a cold mist that chilled all to the bone.

With a supreme effort, Harry flicked his wand into his freezing hands from the holster around his wrist. All he felt was cold, not one happy thought surfaced in his mind, all was cold. People fell in shock as the Dementor's presence increased. Seventy five now infested the street, most were on their knees shaking uncontrollably but a few, such as Harry and now Dermas, remained standing.

Happy memory.... Come on. Finding out I'm a wizard! "Expecto Patronum!" Harry croaked, his voice sounding foreign and unwanted against the coldness in the air. A thin sheet of silver mist leaked out of his wand, but disappeared almost instantly. No.... Ron, Hermione. Happy thoughts. Hermione, Ron, friends. Flying for the first time, Quidditch, Dobby, time with Padma.... "Expecto Patronum!"

Again the mist enveloped the air for a moment, but no stag erupted from Harry's wand. The mist was gone soon enough. Harry's eyes rolled into the back of his head as another Dementor appeared barely three feet away, it's long, grey fleshy hand reaching out from under its cloak. He fell to one knee, and Dermas fell with him. The slightly icy ground met his hand as he threw it out to steady himself and another wave of coldness ripped into him. This is it he thought. I'm really going to die....

Harry dropped his wand and fell back and landed hard on his back. He wrapped his arms around himself for warmth. It was all too much, so much bad had happened that it far outweighed the happy thoughts. He had nothing left, he was just a shell of misery after the horror of his life had finally left its mark. All emotion Harry felt died, all positive emotion that is. All the memories of pain fell into one and a great darkness passed before his eyes. Voldemort was going to win....

Harry was no longer sure if he was alive or dead, awake or dreaming. Time lost all meaning as he descended into the haunted depths of his troubled mind. It all seemed to be over, it would have been over if Harry hadn't tried one last time. He was supposed to be the hero, he was supposed to overcome unimaginable odds to save the day. I am the hero he thought in the weakest part of his mind, which only just belonged to him and not the cold. God damn it I am... I'll show them what a hero can do! A golden spark had formed in his mind now, and now it was lit no Dementor could distinguish it.

It blossomed, it grew, and it evolved into pure happy emotion. The darkness before Harry's eyes lifted, but what he saw before him nearly brought it back. A Dementor, in all its evil, was barely four inches from his face, its hood lowered, a loud sucking sound coming from the gaping hole on its 'face'. The only defining feature on the rotting head of putrid dead flesh. Harry gasped and with his last ounce of strength and bravery, he lifted his right hand and shoved it hard into the Dementor's face, his palm covering the mouth.

It was the most disgusting thing Harry had ever had to do. His fingers dug into the flesh and they burned with a cold unfelt by anyone ever before. Jesus... he thought. Now or never. Happy thoughts... Ron... Hermione... Quidditch.... Not good enough... Death... Voldemort... Cedric... NO! Happy... GINNY!

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry roared.

This was the first time Harry had ever tried to do the Patronus charm without a wand. The effect was instantaneous. His hand exploded with silver light, shooting right from the palm covering the Dementor's soul sucking mouth. It travelled straight through the Dementor's head and shot out the other side, forming into the amazing silver figure of Prongs, growing as it excelled into the dark, lighting a way.

Harry recovered instantly; he didn't even notice the Dementor before him disintegrating into nothingness. Life returned and the cold was gone. He felt unbelievable warmth seep back into every part of his body, pushing out the cold and replacing the dark memories with joyous ones. Though he couldn't savour it for long, he was the hero, he had work to do. Harry blinked his cold tired eyes and when he opened them again they were alight with a fierce, immortal, determination.

"Prongs," he whispered. "You know what to do...."

The silver stag glittered in the air, blindingly light as he majestically sailed through the darkness. Harry directed the Patronus with his eyes, knocking the vicious creatures of death back into the darkness whence they came. Prongs grew with each Dementor's disappearance, and soon natural light was returning. It seemed to be coming from Harry, and reached out from him and followed Prongs in his wake. The silver stag crushed seven more creatures and yet more light returned.

After a few more moments it was over, as quickly as it began. Every Dementor had been sent back to the darkness and those able to were beginning to stand. Prongs glowed with deep silver as he trotted on the air back to Harry. When they drew level, Prongs inclined his head to Harry, and Harry bowed slightly. "Thank you," he whispered, before the silver stag faded from existence once more.

Harry turned to see Dermas struggling to stand; he offered his hand and lifted the man to his feet. "Thanks..." he croaked. "That was amazing..."

Harry didn't say anything. He picked up his wand and frowned. Looking back up and down the street he heard cries of those lost and those distressed. He saw several soulless bodies on the ground, never to live properly again, but there was something else. Nothing about the attack made sense.

Screams joined the cries and Dermas let go of Harry now he had regained enough of his strength. "Nicely done, Harry," he whispered. "You saved everybody. Everybody!" he repeated.

Harry still didn't say anything. He shrugged Dermas off and looked up at the sky. Black shapes flew high just below the grey clouds, Harry took them for birds. Turning back to the street he saw people now rushing to get away from the street, and people coming out of the shops, some obviously wondering what had happened. Several wizards across the street were staring at him intently, with awe struck eyes. Harry didn't give them a second glance.

"What's the matter, Harry?" asked Dermas. "It's over...."

It was just then that Harry realised his scar was burning. And all the pieces fell into place. Something was very wrong. "Jesus.... It's not over... it's only just begun," Harry whispered quickly, a momentary flash of fear in his eyes. "He's coming...."

****