Harry Potter and the Sword of the Hero

HARRY POTTER AND THE SWORD OF THE HERO

Chapter 25 - I Tried So Hard

His will was set, and only death could break it....

-- JRR Tolkien (LOTR)

Harry raced up the grounds as fast as he could; ignoring the pain it placed on his sore ankle. He didn't stop until the great castle doors loomed up before him and then, on a sprint, he jumped up the steps and through them. He paused in the empty Entrance hall to catch his breath and to try and grasp what had just happened. Sounds of laughter and talk drifted from behind the closed doors of the Great Hall, but he didn't want to face the school yet.

Okay he thought, breathe... Harry panted heavily for a moment and fell back against the stone wall just to the left of the entrance doors and near the House point hourglasses. How did it happen? he asked himself. Magic... he replied dryly. However it happened, however he became the griffin for a moment, it was still there. Harry could now feel a separate consciousness in his mind, a feeling that belonged there as if it always had been. He knew it was his Animagus ability and he knew he could use it if he concentrated enough.

Harry sighed and took a few shaky steps forward. As big as it may be, the Animagus transfiguration was one of his lesser problems right now. The main one was the catalyst for all this, the strength inside of him, the growing power of his magic. It was so desperate to be used that Harry was now doing magic without realising it. Things like clothes transfiguration and heating charms, his magic responded to his need and did it without a second thought. He had to get it under control, and he had to do it fast.

That was it he thought, looking up the stairs, realisation dawning in his eyes. Harry set off at a walk, passed the smells of breakfast and the sound of the school from the Great Hall. He thought briefly that he must have been given some nutrition potions in hospital to not feel hungry. That should last me until dinner he thought. Eleven or so hours to do this...

Harry picked up the pace and, after a few secret passages and one close encounter with Peeves, was standing outside the Room of Requirement. He looked from the statue to the left, to the stone wall on his right. Okay he thought. Okay... Harry began to walk back and forth passed the wall and back to the statue. I need a big open space, preferably a field. Somewhere to train, to be able to cast curses and spells. And a place to run...

The wooden door of the room popped into existence to his left and Harry stopped his pacing. A moment later he entered the room and smiled. A long grassy field stretched out before him. It was an idyllic countryside view, complete to the last detail. A blue sky shone with a brilliant summer sun overhead and there were even a few birds flying around. The field stretched on for what could well have been miles before his feet and shin high wheat grass covered it and swayed slightly in the breeze. There was a line of trees in the distance and running down the centre of the field, was a long winding creek that cumulated in a deep pool down by a bank. Whatever magic had created the Room of Requirement, it was very specific.

Harry entered the room and felt a strange sensation as he left stone and passed into a green countryside. The door closed behind him and Harry required it not to open unless he required it to. He saw a burrow of rabbits in the distance drinking from the creek and smiled. It was perfect. With a sigh Harry took of his shoes and socks and walked over the field, towards the creek. It felt good to feel the warm summer grass between his toes, as oppose to the frost and snow that was the outside world. As he reached the creek Harry dipped down and scooped up some water in his cupped hands. It was cool and fresh as he swallowed it and he let out another sigh afterwards. He was thirsty after his run to the castle.

Right he thought, straightening up and turning around. He noticed with a smile that the door leading back to the castle had disappeared, leaving nothing but nature in its place. Let's begin....

****

Ginny said her goodbyes to Ron, Hermione, and Neville on the second floor as she had Charms first up that morning. She walked alone up the warm, friendly castle stairs towards the Charms department, lost deep in thoughts about a dark haired bespectacled boy.

Ginny entered the Charms room last and just in time as well. She took a seat on her own at the back as everyone else was finding seats and a moment later Luna Lovegood joined her.

"Morning, Luna," said Ginny absently, pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear and taking one or two books out of her bag.

"Good morning, Ginevra," Luna said dreamily, staring into space.

Ginny shrugged, Luna would always be Luna. And, apart from her mother on occasion, she would be the only one that would ever use her full name. After everyone was seated little Professor Flitwick announced, to the dismay of most, that today's lesson would be a theory one. Ginny didn't care one way or the other, so she opened her textbook to the required chapters and began to read.

The class was silent and a lone beam of sunlight fell palely onto Ginny's desk as her eyes lazily skimmed the long paragraphs of magical theory. It wasn't long before she zoned out and continued to think about Harry. I hope he's okay she thought worriedly, thinking back to the state she'd found him in. He had been very distressed.

Her thoughts flipped back to the bright red light in the sky, followed by an explosion and then a deafening silence. Harry's curse, his power. The only way of winning. He did the right thing she thought without a doubt. But God to I hope he is okay...

Ginny pushed her Charms textbook aside and opened her smooth, black leather journal. Everlasting Thoughts. Harry's Christmas present to her, Harry's perfect present to her. She had written in it a fair few times, and each time it was unclear to her who she was writing it for, herself or for Harry. Some of the entries were about him, others about her fears for the coming darkness. And some of the entries were to him, like a letter. Letter's that he would never read, though.

Ginny looked quickly around the room and saw that most had moved on to answering the review questions at the end of chapter. Professor Flitwick was marking essays at his desk so, after dabbing her eagle feather quill in ink, Ginny began to write.

8^th of February

I don't know why I decided to write now; something just seems right about it. It has been one and a half months since you gave me this journal, one and a half months since you nearly died at Hermione's home. Those hours after that in which you were missing were almost as bad as the ones where Dumbledore had told us you had been killed. I had died myself then, but miraculously you came back. You did it again and, just like in the Chamber with Tom, you brought me back with you.

Everything I've written in these pages so far has been about you in some way. I don't know why? I've told myself I don't know why... but I do. Put it down to a childhood crush, years of dreaming about a boy who saved the world. A hero whose name I've known since I was old enough to walk. You were, in many ways, just a legend then. I took you for a bedtime story about Good triumphing over Evil. You couldn't have been real, you didn't seem real, just a legend. Even in a world of magic your life seemed that of fiction. A baby surviving the Avada Kedavra and taking down the most feared Dark Lord ever at the same time. Impossible, unbelievable, not real...

But you were real.

Ron came home from his first year with stories of how he had helped you, became your friend, and together beaten back You-Know-Who again. I didn't believe him, not at first anyway. And then it was my turn to go to Hogwarts, after years of watching my brother's leave for this castle I finally got to go... and I was going with you. That was when it all started.

It seems odd right now to be writing my memories down of a diary in a diary. Tom was another... no, I won't go there. You saved me that year. I spent my pre-Hogwarts years imagining I was with you, having adventures, fighting evil. Silly childhood dreams. But then it actually happened. Not exactly the way I imagined it but it happened just the same. The Chamber was opened, I couldn't help it. Tom seemed so kind, so charming. I opened it, though to be fair I didn't know... yet. But then the school blamed you, their saviour, their hero. Almost everyone turned on you then and yet you didn't break.

I broke.

I was dying in that Chamber. Tom and a Basilisk preventing me from fighting, from escaping. I was an inch away from death when you arrived. I never told you this, but I could hear you while I was dying on that cold, wet stone. I heard everything you said to Tom, though I wasn't sure what I was hearing at the time. Mixed thoughts, mixed memories. And then you fought a basilisk.

A basilisk!!

The king of snakes. You fought it and you won. Everything after that felt like a dream, I had been saved, saved by the Boy Who Lived. When I woke and saw the basilisk lying dead I knew Tom was gone. But at what cost? It was almost you. You were now the one collapsed on the cold stone, dying. You would never let me know that, though. Too brave and noble. You were ready to die and yet you still wanted to make sure I was okay. Selflessness like that is so rare it is almost nonexistent.

You were a true hero. Rising to the challenge magnificently and then trying to slip away quietly at the end. It was then that I knew, without a single doubt in my mind, that my crush was actually love. But what chance did I have with the Boy Who Lived! Every girl in this school swoons over you, and I bet you don't even know it.

So you defeated Tom, again surviving You-Know-Who. And even after you knew the full truth, you didn't hate me. You cared. We flew out of that chamber on the wings of a phoenix, alive. You had saved me, and you had slain a basilisk. I don't think anyone can claim to have done the same. I tried to ask you many times why you did it.

Why?

Though the answer was quite clear. You are a hero. You would have faced Tom and that basilisk whether I was there or not. But would you have still won if my life wasn't hanging in the balance? I don't know... but I hope so.

You saved the day and the school. You chalked up one more win for the light and I realised I loved you. But I don't think you saw that I did... Do I have any regrets, for that?

Enough to fill a lifetime....

Ginny snapped up when a siren sounded in the distance that signalled the end of the period. She looked around quickly and saw everyone putting their books and notes away. I hadn't realised the time she thought, shaken for a moment. Her eyes briefly scanned the four pages she had just written. I'll finish you later she thought with a sigh.

****

Harry stood up after drinking from the small creek and looked back around the Room of Requirement. It was an amazing room to say the least. To create such a picturesque landscape was a good bit of magic... but Harry pushed those thoughts aside, he had work to do.

His magic was tingling with anticipation. He planned to give it a good work out, use the amounts of untamed power growing in him. From now on he would learn powerful curses, light and dark. Along with his special training and the many magical abilities he had, the next time he met Voldemort would be the last. Or so he hoped. One thing Harry had learned so far over the course of this year, and most of his life, is that he is and will always be the exception to the rule.

He had survived and overcome all three Unforgivables, some more than once. His magic had the potential to be the greatest on the planet, and now he had become an Animagus, but that wasn't really his choice. Also he still had to repeat the transformation, which he didn't want to try just yet.

All in all Harry felt frustrated with himself. He had the power to end a war, but he couldn't use it. He wasn't trained enough, he didn't know enough curses to fight, enough techniques. His teachers would teach him technique, though, so he decided he'd dedicate most of his time to learning curses, charms, and spells. He would practice his wandless and thought magic until he was as proficient in that as he would be with a wand.

A wand he thought. Harry found that he missed his wand. It had been his for four years, saved his life many times. The fact that it was a brother wand had saved his life, but now it was gone. Most likely any new wand wouldn't work as well, it would be weaker than his original. Harry pushed those thoughts aside, he couldn't safely leave the castle as Death Eaters and Voldemort's followers were everywhere. He had been spotted in Hogsmeade and hundreds of people had died.

Thinking of Hogsmeade Harry thought of his dragon armour and wondered where it was. He wasn't wearing it and he hadn't seen it in the hospital. It must be up in the dorm he thought. Ron would have taken care of that. He remembered that Marcus Elendil, the dragon armourer would be coming to the castle soon, in a week or two, to outfit the DA. That is Harry thought nervously, if he didn't die yesterday.

Harry shook his head. If he died he died, it's tragic but right now he had other tasks to be doing. Later he would owl Marcus and hope he was still there.

So looking once more at the vast expanse of countryside around him, Harry required the room to give him a certain book he'd seen once before but had never bought. In the blink of an eye a large tome appeared in Harry's hand. It was slightly heavy but Harry sat down at the desk that had just appeared in the middle of the field and placed the book on the wooden flat top. He sat down in the comfortable leather chair and for a moment his gaze lingered on the cover of the book.

Highly Advanced Curse Work: Extreme Caution is Advised.

Harry opened his book to the first page, remembering seeing it in the adult section at Flourish and Blotts. No one under age could purchase this book, but the Room of Requirement didn't care one way or the other. If it was required it would appear. After skimming the introduction Harry flipped to the contents page and looked for a particular curse. He found it after a moment and knew instantly why Voldemort had used that against him. Turning to page six hundred and twelve, Harry read:

The Vestic Curse

The Vestic curse was first invented in the year 998 by the Dark Lord Slytherin. Having been at war with the wizarding world for many years, Slytherin had developed many spells that are still used heavily in modern war. Most of his curses were Dark Arts and designed to hurt. His most notable invention would be the Cruciatus Curse, which causes the receiver to suffer an unbearable pain. Warning: Use of the Cruciatus is strictly forbidden.

The Vestic curse is designed to kill. Similar to Avada Kedavra, contact with this curse will result in death. The one notable difference between Avada Kedavra and Vestic is that Vestic can be blocked with a powerful Protego shield charm.

Harry stopped reading and his mind flashed back to his duel with Voldemort yesterday. They had both used the Vestic curse. Harry didn't know what it would do when he used it, but he had sensed that it was dark magic. And now he knew, if he had been hit by that it would have been all over.

Owing to its kill status, Vestic is considered an unforgivable by many Ministries throughout the world, though not in Britain, but it is still highly illegal to use against another human being. Once again the only known counter to the Vestic curse is a strong shield charm.

Incantation: Vestic
Counter Curse: Protego
Status: Illegal, kills on contact

Harry stood up and turned around to the empty field, the desk and book behind him. As soon as he stood a target appeared twenty feet away in the open grass of the field. It appeared as one of those Muggle targets he had seen, with a red centre surrounded by blue, yellow, and black circles. It was strapped to bundles of hay.

Looking back once at the book just to make sure he had it right, Harry took a few steps forward and then cracked his knuckles. He eyed the target and then felt the magic tingling in the palm of his hand. After taking a deep breath, he raised his right hand and took aim.

"Vestic!" he shouted, feeling the magic surge up through his arm and out through his palms and fingers. It came out as white in the beginning but once it was clear of his skin it turned a deep purple. The wave of magic shot across the field and over to the target. It missed by several feet, exploding against the ground, throwing up dirt and grass.

"Vestic!" he called again. This one missed as well, but it was a foot or so closer. Harry shot the curse again and again, until finally one connected with the target. The hay went up in purple flames and the target paper was well and truly destroyed. Harry smiled grimly and required it disappear and return undamaged. I'll remember that one he thought, though my aim is terrible.

Harry sat back down at the desk and turned the book back to the contents. Practice makes perfect he thought sadly, looking at the mass of dark curses. He was going to do what he had to, though. Incendio's and stunning charms were no longer going to cut it. This was a war and he needed to hold powerful weapons. By the time he would be done he wanted to be able to remember hundreds of spells, curses, and charms and their counter spells.

Life had taken a turn for the deadly serious yesterday. In fact when Harry looked back to it he saw that he was lucky to have gotten out alive, with his slim knowledge of curses. He now had a thirst to learn as many as he could, after his acceptance to fight yesterday, he wanted to be able to hold his own against any opponent.

Harry's mind flashed to the mounds of the dead, all their blood pooling together, mixing to become one. His eyes dimmed at the memory and he shuddered slightly. He would learn to prevent another massacre; he would learn to end a war. With a deep sigh and a few thoughts about his friends, especially Ginny, Harry turned to the first page of the book, and began to read.

****

You saved the day and the school. You chalked up one more win for the light and I realised I loved you. But I don't think you saw that I did... Do I have any regrets, for that?

Enough to fill a lifetime....

You have lost so much, so much has been forgotten. There has been so much blood spilt, so many ruined lives and memories. You fought against You-Know-Who alone when anyone else would have fled. Seen that they couldn't win. You don't see it that way, though. You saw it as a chance to prove yourself, to prove that your existence mattered. Even if you weren't the Boy Who Lived, I could tell you it still mattered.

Our lives are slipping away. Another moment gone is another moment lost and one that brings us closer to the end. Your end is going to be a happy one, you can't fail... you don't know how. I cried for hours in bed at night after you told us the prophecy. It wasn't fair, hadn't you done enough? Shouldn't someone else take a stand, other than you? You had accepted it, though. You strive against your failure, against the otherwise certainty of it. One boy against the Dark Lord. You will win, because you have to. Just like you saved me, because you had to. You don't see another option, you will always be the one to take a stand against him.

I don't know where I'm going with this letter. I know you will never see it, I'll never show it to you. I might just burn it when I'm done, who knows? I guess I'm doing it because I'm confused. The way you looked at me this morning, as if all my feelings and emotions were laid bare. I saw what you felt also, and I dared not believe it.

****

"Why do you have a griffin, Hagrid?" asked Hermione. Sixth year Gryffindors now had Care of Magical Creatures. As Harry was blasting away with slightly illegal curses, they were sketching the magnificent creature.

"Oh... its -er- fer NEWT studies," Hagrid said quickly, covering the truth. "One of the less dangerous creatures I've had thou'..." he ended, getting a small laugh.

"I bet Harry would love to see this," Ron said aloud and Hagrid smiled slightly.

"We'll bring him down later," Hermione said. "How about we come see you tomorrow night, Hagrid," she offered. "I know we were supposed to come yesterday but... well... you know..."

"Aye," Hagrid replied. "Come up jus' 'bout five, then?"

"Okay," agreed Ron, their classes ended at four tomorrow.

****

"Ouch...." Harry winced, sucking in a deep breath. He had just read about a particular nasty bone breaking curse. It looked painful to the receiver. None the less he committed it to memory anyway.

Incantation: Cusindeo
Counter Curse: Protego Shield charm
Status: Use by Aurors only, breaks bone on contact

After five shots at the target Harry had it down. His magic seemed insatiable. No matter how many curses he threw, it didn't seem to tire him or drain him in any way. His power was incredible and only matched by Dumbledore's and Voldemort's. But the day was coming when he would out class even them.

Minutes passed into hours and Harry shot curse after endless curse. At one point he began to practice thought magic and conjured metal balls to shoot at him through the air. Without even raising his hand he stopped the metal with a thought and either made them fall to the ground or shoot back the way they came. It was a useful ability and Harry wanted to extend it further, but there was something else that needed to be done first. When he next looked at his watch he saw that it was coming up two o'clock.

Harry decided it was time to do what he had been putting off all day. What he had been a little bit frightened of. The Animagus Transfiguration. After he required the desk and curse tome to disappear, Harry stood unmoving in the middle of this countryside illusion. He felt around in his mind for the connection to the griffin, sieved through all the pain and personal anguish to find what he instinctively knew was his animal side.

The wind blew warmly around him and the grass swayed in time to it. He heard the creek water running over rocks, causing a soft trickle. Birds flew overhead and Harry took a deep breath. In his mind it felt as though there was a finger probing around for the right information. He felt his magic, which was manifesting itself in a deep well, he saw his memories of the past fight, and then finally he touched on something foreign, that felt as if it didn't belong, but at the same time did without a doubt.

Harry hesitated for a moment and then, forcefully, pushed on this separate consciousness, tapping in to it. The effect was instantaneous. Harry shut his eyes tight as a painful ripple tore across his body, but it only lasted a brief second and when he opened his eyes he was a little bit higher from the ground and he was standing on two paws and two talons.

Harry would have smiled if he possessed a mouth to do so, what he had was the sharp, curved beak of an eagle. He had done it again, he didn't know how it worked but it did. He must have somehow bonded with the griffin that morning and his magic and mind had forced him into the form, knowing it was what he wanted, what he would be one day anyway. The power in him had cut down the training time from months to mere seconds. And the end result had been this, Harry was a griffin.

It felt very different being in this form. Harry tried to take a few steps forward, but immediately fell over his paws, coming crashing down hard on the grass, landing on his side. He screeched in protest and frustration. It took him a minute or so to feel around and find the right muscles and appendages to use in standing back up, but after that he was back on his legs. This time Harry concentrated on moving his left eagle claw forward and did so after a few seconds. He then brought his back paw forward and did the same thing for his other side. Smiling happily to himself in his human mind, he had just taken his first step as a griffin.

****

Ginny sat quietly at the back of the room in Defence Against the Dark Arts, as the entire class took notes on the Unforgivable curses from the textbook. She smoothed her hand over the cover of her diary and then slowly opened it to the current page, dabbing a quill with ink as she did. Having spent so much time around Harry, she pretty much knew the properties and what not of the Unforgivables, so she began to write again.

I know you're frightened to get closer to anyone than you already are. You don't want to make anyone a bigger target for him, and that in itself is reason enough for me to love you. I did see something in your eyes this morning, mixed in with the grief and pain. And God I thought it was love... was I right?

You keep yourself locked away, hiding from the truth while the world grows dark around us. So much has happened that should have killed you, that should have let him win. But through several cruel twists of Fate and luck you're still here. I guessed it was Ethan who taught you to Apparate and I also guessed who his father was.... another cruel twist of fate.

Ethan was like you in many respects. You are both orphans, both had hard childhoods devoid of love and yet you both ended up possessing a set of unbreakable morals that shake the foundations of our world and magic. It makes me wonder what happened to Tom to set him on the path he is now on. He was an unloved orphan and he chose to destroy. What small event decided that?

Whatever happened, Ethan died at Tom's hand and you pulled through again, coming out stronger than when you went in. And that is one of the reasons I love you. No matter how much this life throws at you, you face it head on and always fight. Not many people do the same and it is the individuals like you who are meant to make a difference.

So I guess I get to the main point of this now. That look in your stunningly green eyes that I saw this morning. So unexpected, so beautiful.... I, for once, saw passed the walls you keep up so well to keep out the pain and anger. I saw that you are not the invincible Boy Who Lived that this whole school thinks you are, that you are just as scared as the rest of us, and that you need someone to help you through. Someone to hold.

No one can live if all the emotion they ever feel is pain and anger. That is all Tom felt and he is very close to destroying our world now. It will eventually get to you too and then nothing would be worth living for. So... just in case you ever read this:

I love you, Harry Potter.

****

It had taken many failed attempts but after about half an hour, Harry felt confident enough to run slightly in his griffin form. It was more instinct than anything that had helped him to learn so fast. He just plain knew how to do it.

In another ten minutes he was running freely across the field, mindful of all the bumps and rocks in his path. His animal senses were a lot more heightened than his human ones and his eyes in particular were as sharp as needles. He could make out every indistinct bump or contusion in the earth and ran over it without a care, his legs seeming to fall exactly where they needed to.

His hearing was excellent as was his sense of smell. He could practically taste the air and feel it running across his body. There was also an extra sense, one that he couldn't quite figure out yet what it was for. He felt, more than saw, the way the wind was blowing up in the sky, he just knew where hot and cold winds clashed and could see where it changed direction. If he sniffed he could sense when it changed direction and also taste the pressure of it. It was as if all his five senses were especially tuned into the wind. It took only a few minutes thought to realise why and when Harry did his heart skipped a beat.

He could fly!

Sure enough Harry felt the joints in his back near the base of his neck where two impressive wings were folded into his body. It took a few moments of testing and pushing to successfully spread them and when he did the surprise in his mind must have shown in his sharp eyes.

Two six foot long wings stretched from his body, connected to the part of him that was a lion. An impressive wingspan that stretched three times as long as his whole body. They were as strong as dragon hide and as smooth as silk. Each one was covered in hundreds of eagle feathers that all grew aerodynamically for his body, providing the very means for flight. Harry curved one through the air around him and it sliced through it majestically, making a whooshing sound as it went.

As with running and pretty much everything else to do with his new form, Harry instinctively knew how to use his wings for flight. He knew he had to push off from the ground and catch the wind so as to push himself higher. It would be a lot of flapping at the beginning until he reached a safe height and then it would be gliding on the wind, surfing the wind. Harry longed to try it.

Knowing that magic made this room appear as big as he required it to, while being unnoticeable from the outside in the castle, he spread his wings, only slightly as he didn't want to catch the wind yet. He would need to run and get to a good speed before pushing himself hard off the ground and up into the air. At that point his wings would start flapping and hopefully get taken by the air, propelling him up even further. It was what his instincts were telling him, what he knew to do... but doing it would be the real trick.

So Harry prepared himself, walking around for a bit first, back and forth, leaving claw and paw marks in the earth. And finally he decided to go for it. As fast a lightening he broke into a run and was easily running at speeds of forty miles in under six seconds. His speed increased as he ran further across this wide open field and after only going twenty five feet and reaching a speed of about seventy, Harry braced his back legs and then with a great screech threw himself up into the air, his wings opening of their own volition.

Again instinctively he began flapping them hard, beating the air around him. It took only a moment for the air to propel him up higher and the more he flapped the higher he rose. Like on a broomstick Harry rose fast, faster than he reckoned and before he could really understand it, he was no longer flapping but gliding and the wind flew under and over his wings as he cut through it. He was higher than any time he'd been on his broom in a Quidditch match, but not as high as he'd been yesterday when he had sat in the clouds and created the fused blasting curse. However high he was it was still an amazing feeling none the less.

He was surfing the wind, his senses telling him what to expect from all directions as the air buffeted around him. Right now his wings were stretched to full expanse and he was only gliding in slow circles. There was no flapping to give him more height so he was slowly falling back to the earth, his feeling of joy higher than it had been for months.

This was what flying was supposed to be like... he thought. It was a hundred times more thrilling than being on a broomstick and it just felt... right. With a tremendous flap of his wings Harry soared up another twenty feet, the air and wind carrying him most of the way. God is Voldemort going to get a surprise the next time we meet Harry thought happily, letting out an ear piercing cry from his eagle beak.

He rolled on the air, quickly changing direction, feeling before it happened what the wind in the new area would be like and how it would affect him. It was amazing, he was a bird in flight, the sky was his and he could do what he wanted. Harry didn't know how long he spent in the air, breaking left, rolling, diving, gliding and manipulating the air around him, but eventually his human sense overcame his animal yearning to fly and he decided it was probably time to land.

Now that was easier thought than done. As it had been for the take off and flight, instinct had guided Harry and he supposed there was some for landing as well. He didn't want to land so hard he snapped every bone in his body from the impact, that wouldn't do. He decided on a course of action and slowly began to glide back towards the earth, two thousand feet below. Harry glided in circles so as not to come in too fast and after a minute he was at one thousand feet. Thirty seconds later and he passed five hundred, his heightened senses picked up that the air was a lot warmer down here than it was higher up, and he braced himself for landing.

His human part of his mind supposed it shouldn't be much different than landing like a plane did, coming in on an angle and then running off the speed of the landing. It wasn't anything like that, though, and his instincts, which he had been relying on pretty much since the transformation, took over. Harry had now dropped to just under one hundred feet and the ground was approaching fast, too fast. He arched his wings backwards and slowly began to wash off some speed. This slowed him down immensely, but not enough so he simply fell from the sky, dropping like a stone. The glide was smooth now as the ground approached and Harry felt, without a doubt, that his landing would be just as smooth.

And it was.

Harry arced in gracefully, folding his wings to an angle parallel to the ground and then, after pushing back slightly so his back legs would make contact first and begin to run, Harry's front half fell only a moment after that and barely two metres later he came to a full stop, his wings folded away and his tail swinging slowly. The earth beneath him was marked with deep grooves where he had landed. He had done it, he had landed and it had been good, one of the best feelings in his life. A part of him wanted to go again, get back up in the sky and fly once more, but another part realised that people were probably wondering where he was. As much as he wanted to fly, he didn't want to worry his friends.

Harry was a lot calmer and more comfortable in his griffin form than he had been at any moment before this. It just felt right, he couldn't explain the feeling any more than that. It was as if he had always been a griffin and that was who he was. He felt as if as soon as he changed back to his human form, all he would want was to be a griffin again. Well he thought, let's find out...

It happened almost instantly this time. Harry felt around his consciousness for the same feeling of pressure he had found to transform him into a griffin. He felt for the same feeling to turn back. It appeared to him straight away, without a moment's searching. As soon as he had thought it, it happened. His whole body jerked with a quick stab of pain and then when he opened his eyes, he was kneeling on the ground, back in his jeans and shirt, as a human.

Harry just kneeled there for a moment, feeling the slight breeze in his hair, savouring what he had just experienced. He didn't know how long it would be before he could try again, so for now he just wanted to enjoy it. After a few minutes he glanced at his wristwatch and was slightly shocked to see it was coming up three thirty. He had been flying for well over an hour.

Oh well he thought. Time to make an appearance....

Harry smiled and stood up and, as he did, the room turned into the one used for the Defence Association. The next meeting for it was tomorrow night, Friday. He would have to explain the armour and then the rules to the new members. There was a lot to do, but it could be handled in time. After a last look around the room, Harry exited back into the castle, the stone cold after spending so long in a bright field. He felt better after using his magic so much; he didn't feel as if it was going to burst out of him at any moment. He felt relatively normal, for once.

Harry had only taken a few steps down the deserted corridor when there was a loud, quick tapping sound emanating from somewhere. He found the source instantly as a window to his left, but it was what was sitting on the sill that was making the tapping noise.

"Hedwig?" Harry said, slightly surprised. He wasn't expecting any post from anyone. With a confused frown Harry leaned over and unclasped the window, opening it inwards so his snowy white owl could fly in. Hedwig did so without a moment's hesitation and landed on his shoulder gently.

Harry made to remove a letter from her leg, but there wasn't one... "What do you want, girl?" he asked, starting to walk again. Hedwig just hooted and pecked his ear affectionately. She just wanted to be with him. Harry smiled and headed back towards the common room, just as the bell rang for the end of the period. He hadn't been spending much time with Hedwig at all. In fact he had been spending no time with her, so she had sought him out.

The moving staircases were full of students as Harry came to them and it took several minutes negotiation to get a few floors up. All other students on the staircase shot him awe filled looks as he passed them. Hedwig hooted peacefully near his ear as they went and the portraits around the tower stared at him. Not all cast friendly glances, though. A few seventh year Slytherins he passed practically spat venom at him, but had enough sense not to provoke him. Harry sighed as he watched the most likely future Death Eaters walk down the stairs as he walked up.

Harry got off the stairs at a floor below the one he needed to be on to get to the common room. It would take about ten minutes to get a staircase up there and it would be quicker to use the unmoving one around the corner on this floor. So once again jostling through the crowds with Hedwig on his shoulder, Harry headed down this corridor.

If Harry had remembered anything of his old timetable, he would have remembered that the sixth years had just had Defence Against the Dark Arts. And if he had really thought about it, he would have realised that coming this way would have put him on a collision course for-

"Potter," spat Draco Malfoy as Harry rounded a corner and stopped as the sixth year Slytherins, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs appeared in front of him. Malfoy was, of course, leading the Slytherins to wherever they were going, and was at the front of the group.

"Malfoy," Harry said just as coldly, and then made to walk passed the git, not wanting to get into a fight with the Slytherin.

"Not so fast, Potter," Malfoy smirked, and despite himself Harry stopped. Every other student in the corridor had stopped as well. A Potter/Malfoy fight was always something to see. Harry briefly noticed that there were no Gryffindors in the crowd and he realised a moment later that it would have been because they all would have gone the opposite direction, up the staircase he had been trying to get to.

"I'm not in the mood, Malfoy," Harry said with a slight edge to his voice, as Hedwig ruffled her feathers on his shoulder, sensing Harry's feelings. A slight circle had formed around them now, as some decided to leave or stay and watch. There were people from other years in the crowd now.

Malfoy ignored Harry. "Heard you were at Hogsmeade yesterday, Potter?" he said airily, knowing full well that Harry had been there.

"What of it?" Harry replied, not missing a beat. His palm was tingling with magic. "Your Dad wasn't there, if that's what you're after? He was broken out of Azkaban after the attack."

Harry saw with a mild satisfaction that Malfoy was furious at that comment and the Slytherins behind him growled menacingly. "Be careful, Potter..." Malfoy whispered, the corridor was silent so everybody heard him. The only other sound was a low humming from Hedwig that Harry thought must have been anger.

Now, had Malfoy threatened him like that a year ago, Harry might have felt slightly worried, though he'd never show it. But too much had happened since Sirius' death for him to care what Draco Malfoy said or did. So Harry took a few steps forward towards the Slytherin as whispers broke out among the crowd. Malfoy, thinking Harry was going to attack drew his wand, but Harry didn't.

"Or else what, Malfoy?" Harry scoffed, as Hedwig bristled on his shoulder. "You really think you and your gang here can intimidate me?" Harry waved vaguely at the dozen or so Slytherins behind the smirking git. "I duelled with Voldemort yesterday and held my own. Look at you, you flinch at his name... you're not even worth my time," Harry ended with a whisper. He no longer suffered fools easily and was a lot more satisfied with the look on Malfoy's face this time.

The crowd began to disperse, obviously not going to see what they thought. That was until, Malfoy fired a hex at Harry's back.

Harry sensed it coming a moment before it actually did. He instinctively ducked and a jet of red light flew over his right shoulder and Hedwig hooted shrilly. The curse missed and hit a suit of armour, which promptly fell to pieces. Harry was up in a flash and turned around with cold fury in his eyes. He had been in the line of enough curses over the years to know that that one wasn't meant for him, it had been aimed at Hedwig.

With an angry growl Harry raised his arm and Malfoy was thrown back against the wall just as surely as if he had been hit. He hit the wall hard but Harry couldn't care less. Hedwig flapped her wings with surprise as she felt the wave of power come from her owner. A gasp had resounded through the crowd as no one had ever seen such wandless magic. Malfoy glared down at Harry but that was all he could do, he was suspended against the wall.

Harry was now the one with the furious look on his face. So furious that the other Slytherin's didn't even move to help Malfoy. "Of all the dirty..." Harry began, keeping his hand raised and Malfoy pinned to the wall. That curse may have killed Hedwig. "You coward," Harry said icily and moved his arm back and forth once so that Malfoy was thrown back against the wall again.

"HARRY!" shouted a familiar voice but Harry ignored it, throwing Malfoy against the wall once more. "What are you doing?" cried Hermione, running forward and putting a hand on his shoulder. Ron and Ginny were right behind her. Apparently word of their conflict had spread fast for even Hogwart's standards.

At the sight of Malfoy a grin spread across Ron's face and Ginny couldn't help but smile a little. A few other Gryffindors also made their presence known and Seamus was laughing with Dean as the two of them appeared.

"Let me down, Potter..." Malfoy said with a strain. He was looking daggers at Harry.

Harry scowled and for the moment ignored Hermione, then with his other hand whispered a small spell and the arms of Malfoy's robes rose, revealing his bare arms. Harry's eyes briefly flew over the forearms and then after a brief second Harry let the Slytherin fall to the ground hard.

"Not marked yet, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his eyebrows raised. "I'm sure if you just owl your Dad..." Harry reached up and stroked Hedwig. "He'll grovel at Voldemort's feet and ask for him to brand you."

Harry turned away and, giving a sly grin to his friends, headed back to the common room finally, the other Gryffindors following.

"That was brilliant, Harry," Ron smiled, clasping Harry on his Hedwig-free shoulder as they sat down in the armchairs by the fire. Harry rubbed his sore bandaged hand as he stared into the flames.

"It did feel good," he smiled after a long minute. "So how is everyone?" he asked, turning to look at Ron, Hermione, and Neville. His eyes briefly passed over Ginny's but he didn't keep them there long.

Hermione seemed to have gotten over Harry's breaking of the rules and was now staring at him carefully, worriedly. "How are you, Harry?" she asked pointedly. "We heard about Hogsmeade..."

"Who didn't?" Harry smiled sadly. "I'm all right," he eventually said with a sigh. "I've got to get use to it sooner or later...."

"I don't think a person is meant to get used to that..." Ginny whispered.

Harry just blinked and then turned to look back in the fire. "Missed Quidditch practice last night then?" He changed the subject.

Ron chuckled. "Didn't have it. We were told to stay in the common room from five o'clock onwards. Had dinner up here and everything..."

Hedwig was sitting on the arm of the chair, warming herself by the fire as Harry stroked her neck. "I did get some good things done in Hogsmeade, though," Harry said. "Went to the armourer's. Bloke named Elendil is going to outfit the DA."

"With dragon armour!" Ron said unbelievably. "That'll cost..."

"About a hundred thousand galleons," Harry cut in. "That is," he frowned. "If Marcus is still alive? Anyone got a quill and parchment?"

"Here you go," Neville said, pulling ink and a quill from his bag as Hermione gave him a bit of parchment. "Up to a trip, girl?" Harry asked Hedwig as he wrote a small note to Marcus Elendil. Hedwig hooted excitedly, obviously happy that she was finally being given a job.

After writing the letter Harry attached it to her leg and she was gone almost instantly, out the nearby open window. "Come back safely," Harry called after her and then turned back to his friends. "Do any of you know where my chest armour went?" he asked.

"It's up on your bed," Ron said, cuddling in close next to Hermione, one arm over her shoulder. "Pomfrey took it off yesterday to get to your broken ribs..."

Harry nodded and a shadow passed over his face as he remembered the pain that had been yesterday. So much had already happened since then. Animagus for one, but the fight was still fresh in his mind. "I truly hate Voldemort," Harry said sadly, more to himself than to any of his friends. They all heard him, though, but none could think of anything to say.

Later that evening Harry barely touched his dinner in the Great Hall, as he felt a scar headache coming on. Which usually meant it would take hours to fall asleep and then hours of nightmares in what little sleep there would be. Also he was annoyed at all the looks and quick glances he was attracting from around the Hall, a lot of them from Dumbledore and the staff.

So it was with a throbbing headache that Harry finally lay down to bed that night, just after ten. His thoughts were dark as the exhaustion that came with his life finally enveloped him into sleep and the nightmares claimed him.

****

"We can't keep up with this, Albus," Arthur Weasley said exasperatedly, from the floo in the office of the Minister of Magic.

"We must try, Arthur," Dumbledore said strongly, belying the century old weariness he felt. "What of France?"

Arthur thought for a moment. "Twenty five Aurors, several fresh out of the Academy, but any is a help. But word is that another fifty rejoined him today after he has shown his true power. Many that weren't sure whether they should before... He is a lot stronger than his first war."

Albus sighed in his mind but kept his face strong and hopeful to those in his care. "It isn't all that bad, Arthur. Continue to train as many Aurors as you can. I fear we are going to need them sooner rather than later. I will call a meeting of the International Confederation in the morning and position to the world the real threat of Voldemort. Australia will help, if no one else will..."

"Very well, Albus. I'll see you soon. Perhaps you could come to dinner Saturday evening? Molly's making one of her roasts." Arthur smiled genuinely.

"Indeed. I will be there my friend. Goodnight." Arthur Weasley's head disappeared from the fireplace and Dumbledore walked slowly back over to his ancient desk and sat down heavily in his chair. Fawkes sang soothingly but not even that could help Dumbledore anymore.

As much as he tried to appear strong to the world, the weight of all those who had died under him had been slowly chipping away at his defence walls for decades, ever since the first friend he had lost to Grindelwald. "They never blame me, Fawkes," Dumbledore mused and the phoenix once again cried. "I use them as if they were chess pieces... and still...."

Dumbledore sighed and opened the top draw of his desk. After a moments rummaging he flicked his hand slightly and a black object flew out of the draw and onto his lap. It was a photo album. An album that held more pictures than Albus cared to remember. It was at times like this and only times like this that Albus opened it. When the darkness was growing he needed to remind himself that it was worth it.

Dumbledore opened the album carelessly, to any page. It was strangely ironic that the page he opened it to held the photo of Lily and James Potter. He had tried so hard to protect them... The two of them looked up at him knowingly from the photo and Albus felt a heart breaking loyalty to protect Harry until the end. He turned the page slowly and the picture of Frank and Alice Longbottom are the ones now smiling knowingly. It is their undeniable loyalty that makes Dumbledore think he should never have outlived them all. Turning back two pages he sees the Prewett's, more of his pawns sacrificed to save another or to win a victory over the darkness.

Some victories come at too high of a price

"Still mourning over the inevitable, Albus?" a voice from one of the many paintings in the room whispers.

"Indeed, Phineas. Someone must," the Headmaster croaked, turning to another page of lost friends. Many from the first Order reside as memories in his album.

Phineas sensed Dumbledore's distress. He had been on this wall for decades and had been an advisor to Dumbledore on many occasions. He would do that until the castle walls fell around him. "Death is not everything, Dumbledore. It is crueler not to be able to die."

"I wish I could feel that way, Phineas... Alas, some measure of blame must be placed on me for so many lost." Albus turned the page again and this time it opened to the latest entry into his album, Sirius.

"War has come for the children, Albus. Will you be adding yet more to that book of yours?" Phineas wearily managed, with a sigh.

Dumbledore sighed as well. So many forgotten faces. "More than I care to think..." he whispered.

"One cannot so easily sacrifice his pieces, if he sees that they possess a soul. That they are in fact alive..."

Dumbledore continued to turn pages of his album, not responding to Phineas' last comment. It held truth. After a long moment in which many old faces smiled warmly up at their headmaster, Albus spoke again.

"I hold a... coldness in me, Phineas," he began tiredly, Fawkes soothing him slightly with a low note. "For every life that has ever been spent for my cause. I remember them all as children... They died so quickly for what is right, I sent some of them to their deaths. And after they're gone I remember..." Dumbledore's eyes looked across his desk and into the past of years gone by. "I remember that that person actually lived that life and died for my cause."

"It was their cause as well, Headmaster," Phineas replied. "And life is not worth living if you cannot find something to die for..."

How many times has that rung true? Dumbledore wondered. His thoughts strayed to the current members of the Order and the last of the true Marauders, Remus Lupin... and then, as they had a way of doing, to Harry. What mistakes had he made in the past that now forced the boy to carry so many burdens? What mistakes have forced his magic to become so strong, for good or ill...?

"You may not want war, Albus, but war will want you until Riddle is gone," Phineas continued, throwing Dumbledore into a new range of thoughts and a whole new range of mistakes.

"No matter what happens, Phineas," Albus whispered, placing a hand on the photo in front of him, Sirius, "I will always feel that they were too young to die...."

Phineas smiled and laughed sadly. "You will always feel that way, seeing as you're the oldest person fighting in this war."

Dumbledore didn't smile as he replaced his old photo album, which still had too many empty leafs in it. "Do you think we will ever have our 'glorious' victory, Phineas?" Dumbledore questioned the previous Headmaster.

"There are no glorious victories, Albus, not when one has seen the battlefield after the fight. War is just a series of catastrophes that end in loss... that is the tragedy."

Dumbledore stood up from his desk, deciding to retire to his quarters for the night. He still carried the weight of the dead on his shoulders, though. "A Muggle once said that the tragedy of war is that it uses man's best to do man's worst... Harry possesses a courage beyond that, though, Phineas, and that is why he will win us our victory."

"You place all our hopes with a child. But will he live to savour that victory, I wonder?"

Albus did not answer Phineas' final comment, as the door to his quarters closed painfully behind him.

****

Harry woke early, as was his way, the next morning. The pain in his scar had receded but his sleep had been plagued with nightmares of the dead. He showered early before any of his dorm mates and was dressed and downstairs by five o'clock. He also had his dragon armour back on.

The day was relatively normal, as normal as it could be these days anyway. Harry went down to the Entrance Hall and trained with Siamus Scrapfold and Dermas. Neither mentioned what had happened in Hogsmeade and Harry didn't start the conversation. He had breakfast with his friends and then it was sword training with Dermas. After that he had curse training with Thomas Fright, Charms and Healing with Grace Arnair, and finally Magical Tuning with Rose Appleton.

Rose was very impressed with his progress in thought magic, as he was learning at a level that would soon surpass her. Harry also impressed Grace in Healing as he healed his cut ridden hand and was left with only a few scars. She was impressed because he did it without a wand.

At lunch Ron and Hermione were no where to be found so Harry spent it with Neville and Ginny. Ginny seemed slightly uncomfortable around him but Neville was happy to discuss his latest plant acquisition. After lunch Harry had some brief sword training with the wooden sticks down by the lake, and it was at this time that Hedwig finally reappeared and she was carrying a note from someone.

Mr. Potter,

Thank you for your concern. I am indeed still alive and will be more than happy to fill your order in two weeks time, which is Sunday February 18th. I have had to relocate to our Diagon Alley branch owing to the unfortunate events that occurred two days ago, but you know all about that of course.

The rest of your armour will be delivered by this Sunday after a thorough restoration and magical cleaning. Thank you again for your business and I will see you soon,

Marcus Elendil

Harry sighed with relief. It was good to know that Marcus was alive. He thanked Hedwig and then she flew off, presumably to the owlery.

"Had enough for today, Harry?" asked Dermas.

Harry nodded. "Not getting my knuckles rubbed raw anymore, though," he smiled. It was true, he had progressed rather well with the wooden sticks and could now hold Trask off almost completely. He still couldn't deliver a blow of his own, though.

"Aye, that's true," agreed Trask, smiling. "Not the incompetent little runt I met a month ago."

After Harry said goodbye to Dermas he made his way up to the Room of Requirement. As soon as he could he was back up in the air as a griffin, soaring with the wind through the sky. Yesterday he had been slightly nervous when doing this but now it was second nature, it was fun. It was still several hours until classes finished for that day, at least for Ron and Hermione anyway. They finished at four but he knew Ginny had the afternoon free because Moody had to go away for a bit, something for the Order, but he wasn't sure he actually wanted to see her, alone. Harry felt as if he was getting too close to her, emotionally.

Ron and Hermione had told him that they were going to Hagrid's at five so they could have tea there and they could show him the griffin. Harry hadn't told them about his transformation as once again he had been put in the bind of keeping secrets from his friends or placing them in further danger. The secret had, obviously, won out in the end.

He thought it was going to be a hassle free evening that night, but sadly that was not meant to be, as Harry found out just on the moment he landed as a griffin. Harry was immediately forced out of his form as white hot pain ripped through his forehead, his scar was on fire. He fell to the ground, clutching his forehead as the world grew black around him.

Harry was in the body of a monster. He was once again sharing a mind with the one creature he detested above all else. He saw the world through Voldemort's mind... and it wasn't pretty.

A man writhed in pain on the floor in front of Harry, he had his wand trained on him as he screamed. Harry watched helplessly as Voldemort tortured this poor man, whoever he was, while a dozen Death Eaters laughed and shot curses of their own into the man.

Harry could see that they were in someone's home, presumably the man's. It was a dining room of some sort, a large room and it was definitely a wizarding family, as some of the portraits on the walls were moving and protesting to the torture. Several of them were already alight in deep purple flames.

Harry turned back to the man as Voldemort broke the connection of the cruciatus. Whoever he was he remained slumped over and struggled to stand only slightly once the pain had gone. He coughed up some blood onto the rug on which he lay.

It was then that Voldemort spoke, but to Harry it felt as if he did as well.

"You insult your blood, Gosteuax. You are a disgrace to wizard kind and a falsity upon this earth."

The man cried and moaned in response.

"And for these crimes your filthy Mudblood wife will pay... Lucius," Voldemort/Harry said sadistically.

A Death Eater who had been standing behind the Dark Lord, so Harry couldn't have seen him, stepped forward. Harry could tell it was Lucius Malfoy and he knew the woman he was levitating in front of him unconscious was the poor man's wife.

Gosteuax, the man, looked up as Voldemort spoke and actually tried to move as he saw his wife thrown to the floor in front of him. "You are not worthy of magic," Voldemort said, pure disgust and evil in his merciless words.

And with that, he revived the woman and the Death Eaters did what they did. She awoke and was immediately confused, lost in thought until her eye's connected with Voldemort's. She would have screamed at that sight but never had the chance. The dozen or so Death Eaters began to torture her, while her husband watched helplessly.

She was levitated into the air, already under multiple cruciatus as her nerves were ripped from their sockets and a thousand knives stabbed into her body. Her screams pierced the room that was on fire in several places and Voldemort and the Death Eaters merely laughed as her body was mutilated and destroyed.

The man in the centre of it all cried out for his wife from the floor beneath her with his eyes. He was in a body bind and could only watch the horror that was Voldemort. Harry cried for it to stop and fought desperately for control of Voldemort's mind, as he had done his back in the Ministry, but he couldn't do it. The woman continued to scream as a dozen separate spells ripped her limbs and bones from her body, and transfigured her into an unrecognisable lump, her blood now falling down onto her grief stricken husband.

It was over.

Harry tried to close his mind off from the scene, rip it away from the mutilation. It was impossible, he would have to see it out until the end. With a final flick of his wand Lucius Malfoy sent what was left of the poor woman over into the growing flames at the far end of the dining room, whilst Voldemort released her husband from the body bind.

The second he was released the man cried out, an unearthly scream that was only met with laughs from those present. Lucius Malfoy and the Lestranges took extreme pleasure in seeing how anguished the man was. But none so more than Voldemort.

"You see the price of your betrayal, Gosteuax?" Voldemort whispered as the man before him shook with shock and terror. "But your family history is noble, and Lord Voldemort does not forget. Swear your allegiance to me and all is forgiven."

It was the man's turn to laugh now and he did so manically. He laughed for a full ten seconds before speaking seriously. "Never..." he whispered. "You will fall."

Voldemort hadn't actually thought that the man would join him. He was, after all, a traitor to his blood. He would be an example to all purebloods who had married anything less. Oh well. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The man fell dead and Harry fell back into his body.

****

Stark, unforgiving, unrelenting reality forced its way into Harry's consciousness as he woke in the Room of Requirement and promptly threw up his lunch. He shook uncontrollably for a moment before getting a hold of himself. He had to tell Dumbledore.

The trip to the Headmaster's office seemed to take hours. He met no one on the way and had to stop several times as he went dizzy. When he finally arrived he forced his brain to remember the password and then with an effort he climbed the well trodden steps.

Dumbledore was, of course, seated behind his desk. He had just returned from the meeting with the International Confederation of Wizards, and things didn't go as well as he had hoped. The world didn't want to see Voldemort as a threat, didn't want to handle yet another Dark Lord rising, when each country already had their own band of dark wizards to deal with. But none of them had to deal with anything on the scale of Voldemort. While they used their Aurors to track down criminals and cult wizards, Britains Aurors were dying viciously.

Though it hadn't been a complete waste of time, Dumbledore thought with reflection. Sixty seven Aurors from Australia and twenty three from America. It wasn't enough, it would never be enough, but it was a start.

Dumbledore had just finished a floo call to Arthur at the Ministry. Fifteen new recruits began their training today, only five at best would make it through to become a full Auror. There just weren't enough numbers, weren't enough willing to risk their lives and fight. Fear had once again settled over the country like a blanket of snow.

It was at this moment that the door to his office opened and in walked a very distraught looking Harry.

"Harry!" Dumbledore said quickly, rising from his chair as Harry stumbled forward. "What has happened?"

Harry took a few weary steps, he was exhausted. "Scar... He killed... Gosteaux." Harry collapsed into the chair in front of the desk, a solitary tear falling down his cheek. He swiped it away angrily.

Dumbledore sat back down and gave Harry a moment. He was just about to speak but Harry did first. "I... fell into another vision," he began.

Dumbledore listened attentively and with a growing horror as Harry described the events he had witnessed. It had happened so many times before, of course, but one never did get used to it. No doubt it would happen again before the end. Albus could tell that this one had really affected Harry. It had come too soon after everything else, after he had had to kill in Hogsmeade for one.

When Harry finished Dumbledore could tell he was tired and very exhausted. He had known the Gosteaux family of course, they were two of his most loyal supporters and he had seen them last only this morning at the Confederation meeting. It was just another photo of those lost he now had to add to his album. The portraits of all the previous Headmasters all listened silently.

"Thank you for telling me, Harry," Dumbledore said affectionately, once again wearing his façade. He needed to appear strong. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm tired..." Harry mumbled absently, staring at a corner of the desk. "So tired..."

"I expect you are, dear boy." Dumbledore fell silent for a moment. "I cannot help you forget, Harry," he said after a long moment. "We all have our personal demons... you more than most. To not give up hope just yet, Harry."

"It's getting so hard," Harry whispered.

"Weare not lost," Dumbledore met Harry's eyes and then tried to take the conversation into a more friendly subject. "I hear you have become an animagus?"

Harry smiled sadly. "Not through choice... It just happened."

"Useful none the less. I expect flying is quite an experience," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and Harry felt an unexpected feeling or reassurance.

Harry nodded and then rose from his chair. He needed to go and think, to sort out his morals and emotions. "Goodbye, Professor," he said quietly and then turned towards the door without another word.

"Do not keep the pain to yourself, Harry," Dumbledore had risen again and was around his desk quickly to stop Harry before he left. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and gently turned him around. He had unshed tears held in his eyes, behind the glasses. "Talk to your friends, they love you and would be more than willing to listen."

Harry nodded automatically but more than a century on this earth had taught Dumbledore enough about human reactions to know that he wouldn't worry his friends. Selflessness could also be a burden. He would keep his feelings to himself, lest it hurt someone else.

Albus said no more as Harry turned and once again made for the door. He was gone a moment later but Dumbledore felt his heart wrench as he heard him crying on the staircase just outside the door. It was only for a second and it faded away to nothing as quickly as it had come, but it had cut straight through the old Headmaster. Everything was falling slowly apart....

"Our hope is breaking, Albus," Phineas Nigellus managed solemnly from his portrait. "There is always a limit to what a man can take... and that boy should have broken a long time ago."

****

Harry walked without a destination in mind. He walked simply because it was an action, something to take him to the next second of his existence. Just one foot in front of the other and he carried on living. He had promised himself not to cry, not until his job was done... but there were so many conflicting emotions, all battling for dominance and despair was winning.

Harry turned when he heard footsteps behind him but the corridor was empty. Imagining things he thought and carried on walking. His feet took him all the way to the Astronomy tower and without really thinking about it Harry began to climb up the tower, his mind flicking back to images of the dead as he went.

It being four o'clock in the afternoon there were no classes out on the observation deck at the top of the tower. It was empty and would be until midnight at least. Harry walked over to the very edge of the deck and looked down at the ground far below. Carelessly he pulled himself over and sat down on the wall, his legs dangling down precariously towards the ground so far away.

He was sitting on arguably the highest point of the whole castle, it was higher than any of the other turrets and there was a clear line of sight out over the grounds and across the forest. Hogsmeade could be seen slightly in the distance and the mountain behind it, that seemingly guarded over the graveyard at its roots, stood tall and proud as ever.

The sky was streaked a marvellous orange as the winter sun fell behind the mountain and Harry sadly watched a group of students walking back up towards the castle from Care of Magical Creatures. He could see the griffin in its enclosure from where he sat, and could also make out Hagrid entering his cabin.

Harry sniffed and ran a hand through his hair, looking up into the sky. He was silent but his mind was screaming 'why?' Why did he have to see these things, see humanity at its worst? What force in this universe decided that he would have to fight? Why wasn't he given a choice? He sure as hell wouldn't have chosen this if he had been....

His mind flicked to Voldemort and an all consuming hatred filled his heart. Harry truly felt at that moment that he may lose it, that his anger would finally win out. His magic crackled over his skin and his eye's glowed with a green fire. You bastard he thought. God I'm going to kill you...

Harry felt a few stubborn tears making their way down his face but he didn't try to push them away this time. He stood up on the wall, right on the edge and watched the world around him, feeling himself calm a little as the wind blew through his hair. But his mind wouldn't relent. His morals wouldn't let him forget what he saw, not yet anyway.

With a thought Harry brought Gryffindor's sword out from within him and held it tightly in his left hand. His mind was doing a mile a minute and a desire stronger than anything he had ever felt before came over him. It was the desire to kill. To kill or be killed. He wanted nothing more from the world than to kill Voldemort. And as the sun slowly sunk behind the distant mountain Harry made a promise that would stay with him for however long he lived.

He switched the sword into his right hand and then with a quick flick, passed his palm of his left hand across the point of the blade, drawing a long cut. It was a blood promise. Blood had resurrected him, and now Harry swore on the same blood that he would kill Voldemort.

"No matter what," Harry said solemnly, tears falling down his cheeks. "No matter what happens I will see you dead." The blood from his cut hand dripped slowly to the floor, solidifying his promise, his oath. Harry felt a small tingle in his scar as he said this, and a sudden, unexpected stab of pain ripped across it. Harry fell to one knee and raised his hand to his forehead. Gryffindor's sword returned to it's resting place, just out of sight. Another stab made him fall to both his knees and he almost fell off the wall. At the same moment he closed his eyes against the pain, a snake like venomous voice filled every corner of his mind. It was him.

We shall see, Potter...

The pain vanished instantly and Harry felt his mind returning to him, felt the demon withdrawing. He opened his eyes and still found himself kneeling so close to the edge on top of the Astronomy tower, the vast expanse of the cold world around him. For a moment he questioned what had just happened. It seemed that Voldemort had heard, or at least felt, the promise he had just made. Harry smiled grimly at this. Good he thought, I'll let him brood over that... Harry stared out into space for a moment, his resolve to kill Voldemort absolute. He was about to move when he heard a voice behind him.

"Harry..." said a familiar voice filled with nothing but concern. "Harry, are you okay...?"

Harry recognised the voice instantly and sighed. "As well as I'll ever be, Ginny," he said without turning around. "How long have you been standing there?"

There was a long quiet moment before she answered. "I followed you up here... I heard everything you said."

Harry stood up now and turned to face her, she looked scared. Her hair was flying around her shoulders untamed and her brown eyes held tears. He stepped down off the wall but as he did so he realised his hand was still bleeding. With a frown he looked down at it for a moment and then with his other hand conjured a thick bandage to wrap around the cut. He could have healed it magically but this was one scar he wanted to keep.

"Why did you follow me, Ginny?" he asked a moment later, staring into her eyes.

Ginny blinked and looked away, out over to the forest. "I... I have some things to tell you..." she whispered, her hands playing with the cuff of her robes. "But I think now isn't the best time anymore..." she sighed and then finally met his eyes again.

"No," Harry said quickly and took a few steps forward so he was standing right in front of her. "Tell me..."

Ginny opened her mouth to speak but no words came out and she just looked down and shook her head slightly. After a moment she looked back up into Harry's face. She saw the streaks from the tears that he kept so well hidden. Behind his glasses his emerald green eyes searched her deeply. Her eye's flew over the lightning bolt shaped scar, it had a dab of blood at its base, and then across the faint scar lines on his cheek, from Christmas when he had been hit by all that shrapnel.

Ginny took a deep, shuddering breathe and then just threw all caution to the wind. Harry was standing so close and she rose on her tip toes and before he could move she pushed her lips against his.

Harry's sparkling eyes widened in shock for a moment as he realised a moment too late what Ginny was about to do. Time slowed almost to a stop as Harry looked deep into Ginny's face. She had her eyes closed and her nose lightly touched the side of his cheek. He felt the pressure of her lips and a warm feeling seemed to surge right through him from the point of contact.

In one fantastic moment a hundred happy feelings flew through him and he forgot all the pain and the sorrow of the world. It was moment's like this, those brief instances in life that made all the death worth it. One of these moments was worth a lifetime of pain. Time sped up again and Harry found himself responding to the kiss.

Harry opened his mouth slightly and raised his hands to put them on her shoulders. He pulled her closer and after a moment their tongues met and Harry was well and truly lost in the kiss. Their tongues danced and a silent tear fell from the corner of Ginny's eye. It was perfect.

And then it was over.

Harry pulled away slightly and Ginny did the same. He could still taste her on his bottom lip as slowly, ever so slowly they both opened their eyes. Emerald green met love filled brown. Both of them had tears in their eyes and a moment later Harry pulled Ginny close to him in a tight embrace. She in turn wrapped her arms around him and they just held each other in one blissful moment of memory.

Ginny felt so fragile in his arms and Harry closed his eyes as she rested her head on his shoulder. It may have been minutes or hours but when Harry opened his eyes again he saw Ginny looking back up at him. She looked so beautiful in the failing light as a few beams of sunlight played with the loose strands of her hair. She laughed slightly and raised her lips again and Harry lowered his to meet her-

NO! In one catastrophic moment of realisation the feeling of happiness Harry had felt evaporated as reality crashed down upon him, like an avalanche. It couldn't happen, it shouldn't happen... Too many lost already. The danger was too great. He loved her, he realised that now. And she loved him, but it couldn't be... If he loved her he wouldn't let her come to harm, and that meant....

"Ginny..." he managed and she stopped moving towards his lips as she saw the absolutely heartbreaking look in his eyes. "Ginny... we can't..."

"Harry...?" she said slowly, falling out of their embrace and standing up properly. "What...?"

Harry cursed the unfairness of the world. "We can't..." They were the hardest words he had ever had to say. "He'll find out... He'll come for you..."

A tear fell unchecked down her face. "I don't care, Harry," she said quickly. "I... I love you," she ended so quietly Harry barely heard it.

"And I love you to," he said shakily. "That's why this can't happen... not until..." Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair and turned away angrily. Ginny threw out her hand and tried to grasp his but only succeeded in pulling the ring from his finger, the ring she had given him.

Harry turned back to look at her and saw the pain she was feeling on her face. He hated himself for causing that. But it is better this way he told himself, isn't it...?

"I don't care about that, Harry," Ginny whispered, holding the ring as if it was something extremely precious. It was to her... and to Harry. "You're all I care about. To hell with V-Voldemort...."

"He'll get you," Harry said without any doubt in his voice. "I can't protect you from him. We can't do this...."

"Harry-" Ginny said quickly taking a step towards him.

"No," he cut in quickly, stepping back over to the wall and raising his hand slightly. Instantly an invisible barrier appeared in between the two of them. Ginny tried to step forward again but found it impossible. "I'm sorry, Ginny," Harry whispered, an amazing sincerity in his voice. "I'm truly sorry."

"We can work it out," she cried, more tears falling. Harry mentally kicked himself for having to be so cold. Ginny made an effort to get close again but the magical barrier was impassable. She let out a frustrated sigh.

Harry felt it all becoming too much again. He wanted this, he wanted it so much... but if he took it, then it would fall apart like everything else in the world was. If she was killed he had absolutely know idea what would happen to him. So as the grief mixed with the happiness and Harry cried slightly, he saw his way out.

"We will work this out, Ginny," he said solemnly, from his side of the invisible barrier. "But not now..."

And with that Harry turned around, stepping up onto the wall of the observation desk and one fearless moment later, he jumped off. Ginny screamed and her heart skipped a few beats as fear took her. She made to move forward again but the barrier still prevented that. A cry escaped her lips as Harry disappeared from sight and all grew quiet.

Ginny couldn't believe it, it was impossible. And then the impossible happened again. A gust of wind flew up from the ledge and hit her in the face softly. It was followed by a loud screech and then a massive creature flew passed her vision and further up into the sky.

****

Harry jumped, his anguish now complete. He knew deep down that he was doing what was right, but did it always have to hurt so much...? Barely two seconds after he jumped Harry pushed his head forward and flipped in the air. Halfway through the roll he tapped into his consciousness and drew out the griffin within him.

An instant later Harry spread his wings and with a smooth flap pushed the wind aerodynamically behind him, giving him lift. He rose quickly and a moment later he saw Ginny standing alone out of the corner of his eye. He continued to rise and then straightened his wings so he glided around gracefully in his arc, his eyes connecting with Ginny's below. She had a look of utter amazement on her face.

In his mind Harry sighed and then with a final look at the girl he know knew he loved, he turned away and cried out sadly into the night air.

****

Ginny couldn't believe it. Harry was an Animagus! When... how... A thousand questions flew through her mind, making her forget the time stopping kiss of a moment ago as she watched him fly down and from sight. It was incredible, it was unbelievable, it hurt so much.

She touched her bottom lip with her fingers and sniffed slightly, her other hand grasping the ring she had accidentally pulled from his finger. I won't give up she thought strongly. He said he loved me... I knew it...

He hadn't rejected her. No... the look in his eyes. He had been desperate for comfort, but his selflessness, his need to protect had denied him the comfort he craved. Ginny would have to overcome that, if she was to have any chance.

She turned away slowly, and headed back down the tower. Her face was a storm of pure emotion as she joined the crowds of students heading back to their common rooms. Lessons for that day had ended.

****

Harry soared down hard towards the ground, he passed the numerous towers, turrets, and windows of the castle. He flew with the wind and it took only ten seconds to reach the forest, which he glided over gracefully, his paws only just skimming the tops of the tallest trees.

He arced around and flew back the direction he came and finally landed on the grounds at the edge of the forest, near the lake. In the blink of an eye he transformed back into a human and looked back up at the astronomy tower. The observation deck was too high for him to see clearly and after a minute he turned away. Right now Harry didn't care if anyone had seen him transform, Voldemort would find out sooner or later, and he had bigger things to worry about than that now.

Harry had a lot to think about, almost too much. Just an hour ago he had been on the brink. He had been ultimately depressed.... And then Ginny had come along and taken all of that away. He had felt happiness, he had felt love after so many cold months. He looked down at his hand and saw the recent cut had bled through the bandage. He waved his hand and a clean one appeared.

A brief glance at his watch told him it was coming up five. It was tea at Hagrid's come five, so that was where he headed now. One thought pierced his troubled mind, though, as he walked away from the bank of the lake. It was a thought that made him smile and at the same time tore him in two....

He loved Ginny Weasley, and she loved him in return... but a Dark Lord and the battlefield of war stood between them being happy.

It left Harry with an impossible decision made by impossible circumstances. It wasn't fair, but his life rarely was.

*****