UPDATE: It's been a while since I've written this story. I was trying to work on an ending (really!) and realized that I really don't like some of the plot and style elements of this story. I'm currently rewriting most of the early chapters, and doing some minor edits to the later chapters. I'm looking for a beta who can help with the consistency between the old vs new text. Please PM me if you are interested! Thanks
In other news: Don't both reading the story yet – there is no update in the chapters except the update provided here.
Disclaimer: Tolkien and Rowling own these characters, yada, yada... you guys know the drill.
With a screech, the jet black phoenix was engulfed in a sickly green light and then disappeared.
When Harry awoke it was dark. Strange. He remembered the pale fringe of dawn; the battle had raged throughout the night and the streaks of light, timed with Voldemort's demise, had imparted an almost spiritual effect on the weary hero. Voldemort. Dead. But someone else had died... He remembered the light, the color of his eyes, and it hit him. He died too. A Death Eater most likely, though Harry of course couldn't tell which one. He had turned just in time to see the light and the dark hood behind it.
Several wounds made themselves loudly known.
He ignored them with ease and slowly folded his wings and stood up. Looking around, the land did not seem familiar. While Hogwarts had been largely destroyed by the battle - the lake polluted and great gaping holes in the ground from the giants - it couldn't match the barren and deadened area where he stood. Even the sky was depressing, a sort of perpetually overcast and gloomy look to it. Off to his right rose a huge mountain with thin trickles of lava dripping down. Off to his left stood a wall covered in dirt and slime, but beyond that Harry saw light.
So it was daytime. Just not in this shadowy land.
While slightly reassuring, it certainly wasn't Hogwarts - where Harry could last remember fighting in. In fact, it did not look like anyplace Harry had ever seen.
Resolving to leave this desolate piece of land immediately, Harry took a few shuffling steps forward. Birds are ungainly on the ground but he wasn't sure if his wings were badly damaged. He planned on hobbling the whole way, until he came to the nearest outcropping and saw what he hadn't noticed before in the valley below.
It was, like everything else, covered in darkness. But unlike the human Harry Potter, his phoenix form had very good eyesight. Still, he had to look hard because he wasn't sure what he was seeing. It seemed as if the shadows were moving - like they were sentient. Then a feeble beam of light shone through the clouds and confirmed that the black form was some creature, though not any creature Harry had ever seen before. Or wished to meet for that matter. They looked like a cross between a Dementor and something even nastier, and they moved with the grace of a predator. All sported some off-kilter feature, be it misshapen heads, extra appendages, and a lovely mucus-colored skin.
There went that plan. He was so flying, wings be damned.
Hopefully they had already begun healing; magical creatures did heal faster than their Muggle counterparts, and phoenixes faster than most of the former. The perks of being a creature of healing, and all that. But that last battle had not been an isolated battle, and his reserves of magic and energy were dangerously low.
At least he would blend in. Harry, much to his surprise, was a shadow phoenix. He had thought that Fawkes, a fire phoenix, was the only type of phoenix around - a fact that Hermione had quickly corrected him on. As the name implied, he had an affinity with shadows; and like Fawkes could transport through oxygen-rich areas, he could flit through the dark patches of shadow.
Many of his other phoenix abilities were similar to Fawkes', yet more suited to his form as well. For instance, instead of singing to uplift or inspire, Harry could use his voice to sway other peoples' emotions. Which Harry didn't do. Much. It had the potential to subvert people's feelings and he had had enough of manipulation for anybody. His tears could heal, but also poison. And of course, he could carry immensely heavy loads, though Harry didn't know when that would ever be useful.
Unfortunately, these traits had made many fear him back in the other world. Their looks had increasingly grown with mistrust and suspicion. In fact, if they hadn't thought only he was capable of defeating Voldemort, he would probably be in Azkaban right now. Knowing his luck, he would have had some sort of freaky phoenix power that granted him control over Dementors. But none of this matter now, he reminded himself. Focus. Where the hell was he?
He started jumping through the shadows, careful not to disrupt any of the small troll-like things. It wasn't problem; the whole land was shrouded in darkness, so Harry could chose with care where he would appear. He almost reached the imposing gate when he landed on a shadow that suddenly assumed shape. It had no definite form, but Harry certainly felt its weight when it started attacking him.
Making a muted squawk of surprise, he quickly reverted back to a human. Phoenixes were great for subterfuge, not for battles. He conjured a sword - damned if he knew where those ever came from - and attacked. Back in the war, Harry learned to conjure and use some Muggle weapons to surprise his pureblood attackers with. He wasn't very good at them, of course, but he knew had to aim and thrust. That was usually enough, and so it proved to be with this being. However, its death had attracted the notice of several others, who quickly joined the fray. Then even more. Soon enough, he was surrounded.
Harry decided fighting would get him nowhere and was soon hopping through the shadows, thankful this ability transferred to his human form. The gate wasn't too far away, yet the creatures attacked him at every chance, further injuring him. Several troll-like creatures also noticed the disturbance and decided to join in the fun. By the time he reached the gate, he was more beat up than before, a feat which he thought was impossible. He summoned a last burst of energy and jumped to whatever shadow was behind the gate…
The problem with shadow walking was when you didn't have a destination in mind. If that was the case, you would just arrive at the next shadow in the direction faced before the jump. And that shadow could be anywhere.
Less than a second later, the battered form of one Harry Potter appeared at the outskirts of some sort of town.
Tired eyes surveyed the scene. Looking over the small town, Harry concluded that it served primarily as a guard base, probably against those trolls and shadows. A river ran through the town, providing a natural defense as well. Then he noticed the guards.
A moment too late; he heard a shout and then darkness overtook him.
Harry awoke in chains.
He immediately panicked, almost starting to hyperventilate. He had just spent several months (he wasn't sure exactly how long, mind you) in the company of Voldemort and his merry band of Death Eaters. Though he never showed them any fear, they left lasting marks on his psyche.
The weight on his wrists and ankles reminded him of all the pain he went through. Pain, upon pain; unimaginable pain.
He couldn't take it anymore. He had to get out now.
A burst of wild, wandless magic surged through him, blasting off the chains and the enclosed prison. He heard guards shouting, but didn't care. He raced through the shadows, intent on escaping the city at all costs. He slipped into the nearest alleyway and transformed, throwing himself into the air. No one had seen him and he stared down at the unsuspecting guards below. Then he hightailed it out of there.
When he was sufficiently away from the city, he looked back. It wasn't the guard town he awoke in; it looked like a giant castle cut into the side of a mountain. Harry shivered, remembering his prison was surrounded by rock; it was probably inside of the mountain.
He saw men on horseback riding out from the city. It was time to be going then. No use sticking around here. He began to fly lopsidedly away, uncaring of the direction as long as it was away. When night appeared, Harry perched in a tree - different from those back home - and immediately fell asleep from the exhaustion of the day's events.