Harry Potter and the Soul of Chaos

Harry Potter and the Soul of Chaos

Chapter 2 - Pixies and Pizza

A friend is one who believes in you when you
have ceased to believe in yourself.

~~Unknown

July 16^th

The entire world had changed with the death of Albus Dumbledore. In more ways than anyone had or could realise yet. For one thing, Harry Potter's life was in constant danger, as any protection devised could never be enough without Dumbledore. Another thing was the knowledge the old man had taken to the grave....

Like the true history of the Order of the Phoenix.

Not many knew it, not many cared about it, but Albus Dumbledore had not founded the Order of the Phoenix. No, the Order had existed millennia before in its first, and really only, true great form. Albus Dumbledore had re-founded it.

The Phoenix is one of the oldest creatures on the planet, having survived through all of the five great extinctions which wiped out all life on the earth for millions upon millions of years each. They grow old, live for hundreds if not thousands of years, and do not simply use magic - they are magic.

An ancient order took the phoenix as a symbol of power, and indeed it is. They were an order of protectors, of guardians. They were the Order of the Phoenix, and protected mankind and magic from the worst evil Hell ever spawned.

They were also, thousands of years ago, obliterated off the face of the earth when Hell unleashed its armies against mankind. Heaven, as ever, watched but did not dare interfere - that is not the way. The Order of the Phoenix paid a terrible price to seal away that army of demons and worse.

Phoenixes, those magnificent golden creatures, died in their hundreds, and now only a small remnant survive of the dying breed. But they remember the battle of the Order of the Phoenix, remember the price paid, and know that it would have to be paid again in time.

It was just a question of when....

*'*'*'*

Minerva McGonagall did not want to assume command of the legendary Order of the Phoenix after Dumbledore's death - did not want to take her old friends' and colleagues' place. But there was no one else and the war wouldn't wait for everyone to see that.

It seemed if Dumbledore had trusted her enough to be the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, then the Order could trust her now as their leader, as well as the Headmistress of Hogwarts... although there may not be a Hogwarts next year, so that title was sketchy at best.

Seated at the head of the round table in the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts castle - the silent and empty Hogwarts castle - Minerva quietly accepted her position as head of the Order. Fawkes, the phoenix, was supposed to choose the next leader - that was what Dumbledore had said should he die - but the phoenix was nowhere to be found.

Minerva had made it clear that should Fawkes return, whoever he chose would be the leader and her position was only temporary in that respect. She would have it no other way, and the other members seated at the circular table did not argue that point.

This was the Order's first real meeting since Dumbledore's death three weeks ago. There had been a few small gatherings of the organisation in that time, but now the shock of what had happened had faded somewhat, they where here to discuss productively in which direction to move.

Around the table left from Minerva sat Alastor Moody, Arthur, Molly, Charlie and Bill Weasley, Mundungus Fletcher, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Rubeus Hagrid and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Namely, the most active and prominent members of the Order left alive.

By silent agreement they had decided that the Order would continue to do what it could against Voldemort, voted Minerva as the new leader, and were now turning their collective thought to other matters that fell under their sway. At the top of that list stood Harry Potter.

"Potter's insistence to keep secret what he and Albus were doing the night of... of his death," Minerva said, looking and feeling a lot older than she had done three weeks ago. "His refusal to tell us information that could be vital to the war should be our primary concern right now."

There were nods from a few members, but Molly Weasley was shaking her head. "Our primary concern should be Harry's safety," she replied, daring anyone to disagree. "We were in Diagon Alley yesterday, and news that he was there spread like wildfire. If the wrong ear had heard it...." Molly left the words unsaid but screaming loudly in everyone's mind.

"The wards Albus erected around the Burrow should continue to work for some time yet," Arthur said, removing his glasses to press his tired eyes. "But I'm going to request that there is always another member of the Order - two even - at home."

Minerva nodded. "We can make that work, Arthur," she said. "Nymphadora, Remus, would you two like that duty?"

The clumsy Auror sat next to the pale werewolf, her hand resting on his and a small smile hanging about her lips. She nodded enthusiastically and Remus did the same with more calm than anything else.

"How is he, Molly?" Remus asked the Weasley mother. "I haven't had chance to see him since Albus'...."

Molly nodded in understanding. "He's coping in his own way, I think, Remus," she replied, shaking her head sadly. "He may be angry at himself for allowing Severus to escape, but I don't think he is going to runout on us or anything so drastic."

"He and Ginny are infatuated with each other," Charlie said with a small grin. "But I think Harry broke it off after what happened.... anyway, Ginny isn't making it easy for him."

Molly hid a small smile and Arthur just shook his head.

"But he's well?" Remus continued. "Eating and keeping himself out of trouble?"

"You'll see him later on," Bill said, scratching his beard which hid most of his terrible scars. "At times he seems... harder, than I would've thought - but he's eating okay. Not enough to challenge Ron at the table but Mum won't let him leave without at least a second helping of everything."

"He's always been much too thin," Molly sighed.

"And when has Potter ever kept himself out of trouble?" Kingsley Shacklebolt added. "I've seen most of the Ministry reports on him - I wouldn't be surprised if he was planning to tackle Voldemort himself."

There was a sharp intake a breath from the majority of Order members at the table.

"Don't say that," Hagrid moaned, still nowhere near over Dumbledore's death. The half giant's eyes were still red rimmed with tears shed and unshed.

"I think it should be considered a serious possibility," Minerva said. "He should be watched for signs of such behaviour, Remus."

"I won't spy on him," the werewolf said calmly, simply. "Anyway... if Harry were to fight Lord Voldemort, I wouldn't put all my money on Voldemort."

That brought on a moment of reflective silence as all at the table knew that Harry Potter was the only wizard alive to have escaped Voldemort's grasp for so long - to duel him and manage to walk away, and still be breathing today.

"Albus knew something about Potter and Voldemort," Moody spoke up unexpectedly. "I reckon it had something to do with that prophecy he tried to steal when we lost Black."

Minerva rubbed her temple, already feeling the weight of her new position. "That may be a critical point, Alastor," she mused. "But it is easier to draw blood from a stone than it is to get Potter to talk at the moment."

*'*'*'*

"Harry, will you please shut up about it!?" Ron exclaimed. "Merlin, you've done nothing but talk all morning. Okay, when you turn seventeen in a fortnight I'll let you practice all the non-verbal jinxes you want against me. Okay, you happy?"

"Very,' Harry smiled, clapping Ron on the back as they made their way down the stairs to the kitchen. "You see, Ron, this is why we're friends."

Harry did not want to test the Ministry's patience at the moment - not while he and Minister Scrimgeour were not seeing eye to eye. So that meant he probably shouldn't continuously flout the underage magic laws until he turned seventeen. Yesterday he had cast a summoning charm in Flourish and Blotts which so far seemed to have gone under the radar.

He assumed the Ministry was probably too busy to deal with minor infractions like that at the moment.

Ron sniffed. "Friends don't ask friends if they can curse them silently," he said.

Ron and Hermione were both already of age, old enough to use magic without breaking any underage laws, and Harry was within a fortnight of the same privilege. He found himself thinking it was an odd law - he didn't think he would be anymore wise and mature in a fortnight than he was now, but he wasn't about to push his luck.

"You know why I have to do it," Harry mumbled, thinking about Snape and Voldemort, and which one he would kill first.

Ron nodded and sighed. "It's because I told Pansy Parkinson that you have feelings for her, isn't it?"

"No!" Harry said, not catching on. "Wait... you what!?"

Ron doubled over with laughter and Harry, finally realising it was a joke, kicked him down the last few stairs. Ron landed in a heap at the bottom, no longer laughing. Harry was though. That was until Ron rolled over, wand out, and locked his legs together with a quick bit of spellwork.

Unfortunately for Harry, his forward momentum carried him downwards and he, too, landed in a tangle next to Ron at the bottom of the stairs. "Ow," he said, nursing a bruised elbow, legs still stuck together.

And it was at the bottom of the stairs that Ginny and Hermione found them both a moment later, having heard the commotion from the kitchen. There was sweat on all four of the teenager's brows, as today was turning out to be one of the hottest of the summer by far.

"The trick is to take it one step at a time, fellas," Ginny said dryly, gently tapping Harry on the shoulder with her foot to get him moving.

"Harry pushed me!" Ron exclaimed, as Hermione struggled to help him up.

"I pushed Ron," Harry said at the same time, confessing to the crime.

"Here," Hermione sighed, noticing Harry's legs. She drew her wand and cancelled the leg-locker curse. "You'd think you boys would be a bit more mature at this point in your lives," she continued, shaking her head.

"We're happy go-lucky scamps," Ron grinned, hobbling forwards towards the kitchen. He'd twisted his ankle on his tumble down the stairs, but it was already working itself out.

Ginny, meanwhile, was helping Harry to his feet, and after much snipes and curses under his breath Harry followed Ron and Hermione to the kitchen, sharing the smallest of smiles with Ginny.

They were alone at the Burrow today, but with explicit instructions not to leave the property or the safety of the wards for anything. At the first sign of trouble they were to either Apparate, if applicable, or floo to safety. Ginny didn't know how to Apparate as of yet, but she could catch a lift with one of the other three. The wards prevented Apparation for a good quarter of a mile in every direction though.

Most of the household was attending an Order meeting at Hogwarts, that much they had been told. Fred and George were at the shop and Fleur was busy in Diagon Alley again with the wedding, which was only a few days away now. Preparations were well underway for that, with Fleur's family and guests expected to arrive over the next day or two.

"So, what are we doing today?" Harry asked the others, grabbing an apple from the bowl on the table. A green apple, charmed to stay cold and crisp. It was something to be savoured on this stinking hot day.

"Well," Ron said thoughtfully, "I was thinking--"

"That's a first," Harry snorted.

Ron glared, took a swipe at Harry across the table, missed and continued. "I was thinking we could head out to that river in the forest, Gin, you remember that? It's always cool and fresh."

Hermione shook her head. "We were told to stay inside the wards, Ron," she stressed.

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair, devouring his apple. "If Voldemort's coming," he began, "then we're safer in that forest than we are here. At least we can Apparate out from there - also, it's hot."

Ginny bit her bottom lip in indecision. "What if mum comes back and we're not here?" she asked.

"They'll be in that Order meeting all day - we'll leave a note as well," Ron said. "Come on, you two, Hermione and I are of age so we can look out for you."

"It is a bit of a risk, isn't it?" Ginny said weakly.

"No more so than staying here all day," Ron shrugged. "Yeah, I don't think you've got anymore excuses, Harry, come on."

"I was never against the idea," Harry replied, chuckling. "I just need to go change into my swimmers and grab a towel."

Ron grinned. "That's set then. Don't look at me like that, Hermione, you know it's a good idea. The place we're going isn't even a mile away. If you climb a tree there you can even see the Burrow."

Hermione, after a moment of deliberation, finally nodded. "Alright," she said, "it does sound nice."

"Excellent," Ron replied. "Okay, I'll write the note, you lot go get ready - and bring me a towel and some shorts down, Harry."

"I'm not your pack-mule," Harry grumbled, spoiling the effect with a smile before darting out of the kitchen and back up the stairs.

Five minutes later....

Dear Mum,

Gone swimming in the forest - our reasoning was that any attack would likely be on the house, so we decided, as a group, with Harry as the leader, to get out of the house. Also, can you believe how hot it is?

No, me neither. We should be back before you but if not this note should ease your mind.

Love,

Ron

P.S. Any blame or anger can be directed towards Harry, who bullied us into this. Also, can you please bake a blueberry pie?

"Did you leave a note?" Harry asked Ron as they walked towards the eastern gate of the property, which opened onto a field which eventually met the thick green forest about half a mile away.

"Sure did," Ron said. "Short and sweet, but we'll beat them back. We'll only be an hour or two."

"What is this pool like?" Hermione asked. She was wearing a blue bathing suit with a pair of shorts and sandals. Her wand was tucked into her shorts and she had a towel slung over her shoulder.

Harry was in an old pair of shorts and a faded black shirt, a towel of his own slung across his neck to protect it from the sun. Ron was in jeans and a shirt, carrying his shorts and a towel, and Ginny was wearing a red one-piece bathing suit, underneath her shorts and shirt - her towel was wrapped around her waist.

"It's at the bottom of a waterfall," Ron said, looking ahead towards the forest. "We discovered it years ago, just mucking around. It's fairly deep and wide and drains off over another waterfall into the river Otter, but it's not a steep waterfall - 'bout five feet high, so taller than Harry. Not much else there but trees and flowers - sometimes there are pixies."

"Sounds nice," Hermione smiled at Ron, who blushed and muttered something about the heat.

"I'm taller than five foot!" Harry exclaimed.

"'Course you are, mate," Ron said with false sympathy, marching on ahead across the green field.

There were a few bales of hay on the field, used to feed the animals at the Burrow, but other than that it was just an empty green field with a few rises here and there. The small forest soon loomed overhead, as the four friends enjoyed the summer's day strolling along and talking together.

Rarely walked in, as the Muggle repelling charms on the Burrow extended to line of sight of the house, the forest path was fairly overgrown, as the Weasley flock had all been attending Hogwarts for years now. But there was a slightly discernable path, and it was that which Harry and the others followed.

The trees to begin with were spaced evenly and wide spread, but soon enough they hemmed in the path, as did the small shrubs and wilting flowers. Spring was over and the sun was fast ending the life of the native flora. A filtered sunlight streamed in through the high canopy of leaf and branch, but it was humid under the trees, and Harry started to feel sticky and sweaty. He couldn't wait for the promised cool pool.

"It's just through here," Ron said five minutes later, once they'd followed the path around a few large evergreens. Ron left the path and began to chop his way through the undergrowth, taking care around the nettles, and clearing the way.

Ron and Hermione moved ahead and that left Harry and Ginny at the back together, walking a bit slower. Harry lifted a low hanging branch out of her way, and received a small smile for his efforts.

"So," Ginny said. "Any plans for this next year, if Hogwarts doesn't reopen?"

"Horcrux hunting," Harry replied simply. "Save the world, destroy the bad guy... get the girl." He winked and she playfully punched him in the arm. "I'm not going back to Hogwarts, Gin, but I think you should if it opens."

Ginny sighed and shrugged, clearly not knowing what she was going to do. Harry had, pretty much in the first hour he had been at the Burrow, sat his friends down and explained what he intended to do after the wedding. Dumbledore had said it would be fair to tell Ron and Hermione about the Horcruxes and the prophecy and everything, but Harry had included Ginny in that now.

She was, after all, a lot closer than a friend... well... could have been closer... That was complicated. Anyway, Ron, Hermione and Ginny all knew of the prophecy, knew of Voldemort's fragmented soul - knew it was his destiny, that he was the Chosen One, for reasons still unclear, to save the whole world from a creature that would gladly wipe out billions of its inhabitants.

And had the power to do so, now that Dumbledore was dead.

Dead and buried, Harry reminded himself, more than a little numb to death. He had grown somewhat accustomed to its ways over the years, and that was terrifying. It still hurt to think about the old headmaster, in his white tomb at Hogwarts. A monument that would not last if Voldemort won.

"I don't want to let you have all the fun," Ginny said. "Though mum would have a fit if I told her."

"No one can know about the Horcruxes, Gin," Harry said, feeling cold now in the heat. It was terrible what he had to do. "No one... Too much is riding on this."

"I won't tell a... well, a soul, Harry."

Ron and Hermione were just visible up ahead, disappearing around a copse of trees and a patch of long weed grass. Harry and Ginny walked a bit faster to catch up.

"Do you ever get the feeling that this is too big for us, Ginny?" Harry asked, clearly surprising Ginny. Her eyes widened as if she didn't believe he was being serious. "Who are we to save the world....?"

Ginny blinked, bit her bottom lip and then slipped her arm across his shoulders, softly kissing him on the side of his head just above his ear. "You're Harry Potter," she said. "I grew up on stories of you... and... well... the stories pale to the real thing. That's why it's you who is going to destroy Voldemort, because you can."

"You really have that much faith in me?"

Ginny nodded. "I don't just believe it, Harry, I know it."

"But why me....?" he whispered.

"I've already told you that," Ginny said softly. "You are Harry Potter. Who else is there?"

Harry smiled, sadly, and then the two of them caught up to Ron and Hermione around the bend in the woods and the canopy of trees opened up in a small glade and revealed the sparkling pool.

There was a waterfall, stretching away several metres to Harry's right and the curtain of whitewashed water fell into the glistening, almost silver, pool which did look quite deep. It formed a wide circle before falling away on another, much smaller, waterfall.

The sun beat down hard upon them and it was hot again out in the open. Harry did see a few green pixies dashing away into the undergrowth as they approached, noticed a few more disturbing the flowers and small shrubs as they tinkered away into hiding.

Magic was all around, even in the Muggle world, you just had to give things a second glance.

"See, what did I tell ya," Ron said. "It's pretty deep as well so you can even jump off the waterfall - there are no rocks under the water either so that's safe."

Kicking off his shoes, Harry dropped his towel by the water and tested it with his toe. It was warm - not cold and a lot less hot than the sticky humid air. Harry was eager to jump in.

*'*'*'*

Rome

"You ready, Court?" Matt asked, gingerly buttoning up his black t-shirt over the white bandages that covered his more serious burns and cuts.

"Yep," Courtney replied, zipping up the suitcase she and Matt lived out of. It was charmed to shrink once the zip was done up, and it did so now down to pocketsize. Courtney slipped it into the pocket of her denim shorts.

"We'll take the car up to France," Matt said, opening the paint stripped door of their motel room and stepping out into the warm Italian afternoon sun. They had spent two and a half days in the room, and weren't even going to bother checking out, seeing as how they had paid in cash.

Always pay in cash - never leave a trail.

Courtney yawned. She and Matt had slept in today, so as to have the strength to keep driving through the night. Darkness was their friend. Matt carried an envelope with all sorts of false identification in it, Muggle and Magical passports as well as driving licences and bank cards. It helped them get across international borders and whatnot.

"I know the plan," Courtney said, shaking her head of sleep. "Into France, to Paris, where you know a bloke who can get us a Portkey to London. Where this Harry Potter is."

Matt winked and smiled, opening the passenger door on the blue Audi for her. "If we get split up, what are the meeting points?"

"The Louvre at one o'clock in the afternoon, or the Eiffel Tower at five."

"That's my girl," Matt said, walking around the car to the driver's side door. He was swinging the keys absently around his finger, but his eyes were ever alert for any signs of anyone out of place. All he could see was the busy road and a few people seated out front of the restaurant he and Courtney had been eating from the last few nights.

It was a cheap, little, dirty place but they made an awesome pizza. Where in Italy didn't?

Nothing caught his attention... and yet....

Matt was a Sensitive. That is, he could physically sense when his life was in danger - like a wrenching in his stomach, or an itching on the back of his neck. Just a feeling, and right now it was going haywire. It had been building up all morning, he realised, but now it was off the scale.

Sensitives were rare. Matt did not know of anyone else like him, but there had been a few in history. Merlin was one, and he had done great things. It was how, in this game, Matt had stayed alive so long. The average live span of a treasure hunter was as long as their first big score. Matt Tristan had had many big scores.

He slowly got into the car, easing himself into the seat as the pressure on his back hurt like all hell.

"Uh-oh," Courtney sighed. "You've got that look on your face."

Matt grinned. It wasn't exactly a sane grin nor one that inspired Courtney with a lot of confidence.

"My spidey-sense is tingling," he said, casting a quick glance in the rear view mirror. Keying the ignition, the car hummed to life and Matt eased it into Reverse, taking care to move slowly out.

Courtney didn't know how Matt did it, but whenever he got those feelings things started to go bad fast for him, and usually anyone standing nearby. Since she was pretty close, Courtney felt it wise to open the glove box and remove the 9mm Beretta pistol she kept there.

Matt nodded his approval, pushed into First and took off down the car park, leaving their motel room behind - which was strewn with empty pizza boxes and was now lacking a few towels.

Still seeing everything there was to see, Matt mentally went over the trip route. Drive out of Rome up to Florence - from Florence keep heading north through Switzerland into the St Gotthard Tunnel (the second longest road tunnel in the world - just under 17 kilometres) - pass through the Swiss Alps and into France, heading north still through Burgundy and then finally Paris.

It would take a day or two and Matt knew there would be need for a night stop here and there, but if he and Courtney rotated positions to sleep every ten hours then they should only need to stop for fuel and food otherwise. It was a sound plan, one that would see them in the United Kingdom before the week was out.

Checking the clip in the weapon, Courtney slid the lock back into place and held the weapon with a marksmen's ease on her lap.

"Anything?" she asked.

Matt bit his lip and frowned. The danger was there, he knew - he felt - but it felt odd. A Sensitive just had a feeling... a heightened instinct to peril and, occasionally, to strong human emotions like love and hate, anger and joy. But this was something Matt had never sensed before.

It felt foreign to him and he could scarcely describe it.

Instead of... immediate danger, he thought, it was more like the tentative calm before the storm. He felt slight nausea, nervousness even - and that was impossible. As far as anyone knew, Sensitives were caught up in the moment, warned only a few seconds in advance about danger. Not this - never this.

Impossible.

Then again, demons didn't exist a few days ago, and now one was most likely hunting him for the knowledge Merton had passed on before he died. Knowledge he had gained through the Mirror of Dust - one of Matt's big scores. Something that held a power, a force, which was only supposed to be myth. To be legend!

Not real... never real. Too real.

Goddamn fool, Matt growled to himself, turning onto the motorway and quickly becoming lost in a sea of slow moving vehicles. He didn't know if he was calling Merton or himself the fool, but both fit. He should've left the Mirror and its curse buried beneath the sands of Egypt.

"Anything?" Courtney had asked.

"A shitstorm on the horizon, m'dear," Matt sighed. "But I think we're safe for now."

Indicating over into the left lane, Matt pushed it up into Fifth and hurried out of Rome as fast as he could. It would be a long time, if ever, before he returned.

*'*'*'*

The water in the secluded creek was amazingly refreshing. Harry dived beneath the spray of the waterfall, his hair sticking down to his head, and back up, breaching the surface fast and spraying water skywards in a sparkling arc.

Harry dived again as Ron jumped from the top of the waterfall several feet overhead, landing with a big splash that rippled out in sloshing waves to the far reaches of the natural pool. It even disturbed Hermione and Ginny, who had been calmly chatting in one of the peaceful corners of the water, away from the turbulent waterfall.

Harry surfaced again as Ron was carried under and swam across to the girls. He wasn't the best swimmer, nor the most graceful, but he could float.

The last hour had been relaxing in a way Harry hadn't known he had needed. Aches and pains in his joints, the stress on his mind, just seemed to melt away in this serene environment, away from the scorching heat of the day and the troubles of the world he would soon have to fight for.

It felt good to be out here in the forest, with his best friends. He knew that after the wedding moments like this might not happen again.... and as such they were to be savoured.

For after the wedding his sole concern would be to find the fragmented pieces of Lord Voldemort's soul, and destroy them before facing the creature himself. That still seemed far away, but he was worrying about it now.

The tiny pixies were chirping away in the bushes and trees surrounding the pool when Harry swam alongside Hermione and Ginny, getting a grip on the stone around the edge of the water so he could stay afloat.

"How's things over here?" he asked.

"Same as over there," Ginny replied. "Only there's a lot less Ron."

Ron was out of the water and climbing the rocks by the waterfall again, ready to make another jump. He waved when he spotted them looking, before jumping into the air and striking the water in a manner strongly resembling a cannonball.

"Honestly," Hermione sighed as they were buffeted by the waves from Ron's jump. Her heart wasn't in it though, and Harry saw the smile she wore as Ron broke the surface and began to paddle over.

"I'm getting hungry," he said. "Who wants to head back?"

It was time for an afternoon snack, lunch even, and if they headed back now then maybe they could beat the adults home and quickly dispose of Ron's note, thereby avoiding any admonitions for leaving the relative safety of the wards.

So it was agreed.

Harry pulled himself out of the water onto the ledge he had been holding onto. Dripping and about to stand up, he paused as the fluttering of wings buzzed passed his ear and a green pixy, no bigger than his ring finger, hovered before his face - apparently unconcerned about the close human contact.

It was green, of course, to match its surroundings, and regarded Harry with an almost curious look on its tiny face, small arms resting on its hips.

"Hello," Harry whispered softly, and the small flying creature began to whiz around his head.

Ginny noticed what was happening a few feet away and motioned quietly to the others as the pixy landed softly on Harry's ear, folding its wings back and holding onto a few strands of his hair.

"Oh," Ginny said kindly. She was as amazed as Harry was.

Slowly, Harry lifted his hand before his face and held out his finger. The pixy was intelligent enough to understand, most animals are, and fluttered across onto his finger, sitting down at eye level to Harry.

"That is so sweet," Hermione whispered.

Ron snorted. "Capture it, Harry," he said, "and we can cook it!"

"Ron!" Hermione chided, slapping him on the arm.

The pixy regarded Harry with its small eyes and seemed to weigh him up, looking at him as it would any curiosity. Bringing it closer to his face, the little creature stood up and spread its wings for balance on his finger. Reaching forward with its arm, the pixy moved a few wet strands of hair from across his forehead.

It had revealed the infamous lightning bolt shaped scar. And then that tiny green arm reached out again, hovering now before Harry's eyes, and he felt its fingers brush against the ragged skin of the scar.

Almost instantly the pixy squeaked with pain, as if burnt, flying away sharply and chirping incessantly in an agonised manner. It darted away into the thick foliage and disappeared, its squeals soon lost as well.

Harry frowned and touched the scar himself. It felt warm, prickled slightly when he brushed it. It also felt a bit raw, as if he'd scraped it against something.

He saw his friends' concerned looks, their uncertain looks, and shrugged with confusion. "Merlin knows what that was about!?" he said, standing up and moving towards his shirt and towel.

"Little buggers," Ron said after a moment. "Next time, mate, we'll skewer it and make kebabs."

He was trying to lighten the tension and awkwardness that had suddenly descended on the group, and Harry appreciated the effort - he even managed a small laugh as Ron went on about pixy pies and pixy sandwiches. Hermione fell in line beside Ron and smiled warmly, her eyes sympathetic. Ginny came to his left and didn't say anything, just linked her hand through his and squeezed it reassuringly.

Bloody Voldemort, Harry thought as they took off through the forest, following the trail they had made on the way. He was more sad than angry right then. Sure, there was rage enough to last a lifetime at the creature who called himself the Dark Lord, but it was overridden just then by a feeling of great injustice.

Why me? Harry thought once again. Why did Fate burden him with this godforsaken scar? Even now it was stinging slightly - now that he was thinking about it. What did it mean? It was a part of him, but also somehow a part of Voldemort. They were linked by blood and magic, and he would find no peace until that link was severed. No peace until he had sent the Devil back to Hell.

Why me?

In Harry's mind it was Ginny's voice that answered....

Who else is there...?

*'*'*'*