Price of the Rider

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Chapter One: The Predator And The Prey

Harry was sitting in the playground waiting for another day to finally end. It had been a whole month since the end of term, yet here he was; stuck in the Muggle world while the Wizarding world faced the return of Lord Voldemort. Now, most of the Wizarding world lived in denial or ignorance of the return of the most powerful dark wizard in history, but the few that didn't chose to leave him stranded with his Muggle relatives, the Dursleys.

The injustice of it all was overwhelming for he, Harry Potter, had not only seen Voldemort return, but had fought him in a graveyard and survived. Cedric had died at the wand of Pettigrew, but the Minister of Magic would rather run from the truth and call him a liar. Harry grabbed fistfuls of his own hair and pulled hard.

"What seems to be the matter, boy?" asked a low cold voice.

Harry jerked his head up to see a tall man with gray hair and cold blue eyes; wearing a black suit and carrying a walking stick topped with a silver skull head standing in front of him.

"Who are you?"

"Just a fan of yours," replied the man.

"What do you mean?" Harry retorted coldly, gripping his wand.

"It must be hard living here with your relatives when you have more important things to do. If only you could live with your kind. Wouldn't that make things so much better?"

Harry felt like they were talking in circles. "What do you mean by my kind?"

"Your real family, Harry," the man sighed, a small smirk edging his lips. "Your godfather."

Harry had grown tired of this game. "What do you want?"

"Funny you should ask," the man chuckled. "I want to help you be able to live with your godfather. To be able to leave the Dursleys behind forever ... to be able to defeat Lord Voldemort."

Harry noted that the man seemed quite at ease with saying Voldemort's name – too at ease in fact. The whole situation had him feeling very uneasy about this stranger.

"What do you want in return?"

"It's simple, really. I give you the ability to take back your life and you help me with a problem I've been dealing with myself for quite a while."

If Harry had been thinking clearly he probably would have refused, but anger was surging through him and this stranger was offering him a way to have everything he wanted. All he had to do was help him with a problem in return. If the stranger failed to help him, he wouldn't feel obligated.

Harry nodded. "Okay. What do I need to do?"

The man pulled out a scroll of parchment and unrolled it for Harry to see.

"It's a simple contract, Harry. Like all good contracts, it requires your soul."

"What do you mean by my— Ouch!" Harry had reached to take the contract, but pricked his finger on the spine. A single drop of his blood dripped onto the parchment.

"That will do just nicely," the man cooed, rolling the parchment back up.

"What did you do?" Harry shouted, leaping to his feet and pointing his wand at the stranger.

The man laughed. "Gave you your life back, Harry Potter! We'll be in touch, but for now, you have guests to deal with."

The next moment, the stranger had disappeared into thin air. Harry's heart hammered against his ribs. He didn't like what had just transpired one bit. He sucked his throbbing finger while peering around for signs of the stranger or anyone else that might be lurking about. The playground sat silent, so Harry pocketed his wand and decided to head back to Number Four Privet Drive. He needed to get back to his room and figure out what just happened.

Up ahead, Dudley and his gang were headed home from another night of bullying and mischief. Harry hung back until the last of Dudley's gang departed with a cry of, "Later, Big D!"

"Hey there, Big D," Harry called, walking fast to catch up to his overgrown cousin.

"What you want, freak?"

"Did you notice anyone ... strange hanging about tonight?" Harry asked, peering around again.

Dudley snorted. "Stranger than you?"

"Something is wrong, Dudley," Harry retorted, squinting and grabbing the back of his head with both hands as a strange burning sensation tingled his scalp. "We need to get to Privet Drive quickly."

"Stop trying to scare me, freak!"

Harry now realized that the chill he felt wasn't a side effect of the burning sensation, but that the air suddenly had an unnatural feel to it. Recognizing what was happening, Harry wrenched his wand from inside his pants pocket and scanned the area quickly.

"Dudley, run home... Now!" Harry shouted, fighting the feelings of both fear and a growing anticipation.

Dudley spun in a circle, fear covering his massive face. "Stop it! Stop it right now, freak, or I'll punch you!"

Harry looked up as the stars faded from sight and the all too familiar sound of ragged rattling breathing could be heard coming from the end of the alley. At that moment, Harry lost all control as the burning sensation spread throughout his body and his vision turned red. An overwhelming feeling of strength and power flooded through him. His mind flooded with the horrific scenes of the cemetery and of the return of Voldemort. At that same moment, a high pitched scream filled the back of his mind then faded.

Dudley took one look at Harry, hissed something inaudible, then fainted. He collapsed onto the street with a thud. Harry reached to catch his cousin, but stopped when he saw his own hands and arms. The flesh that had once covered his bones was gone, now replaced with fire. It startled him for only a second before an unnatural understanding came over him. He knew who he was—what he was. He was vengeance.

Harry looked up to see two Dementors gliding into the alley, no doubt looking for him. Harry pocketed his wand and though completely mental, beckoned the Dementors forward. One of the Dementors glided forward and attempted to feed on him, but instead let out what sounded like a scream. As the Dementor made to retreat, he reached out and grasped the Dementor about the head. At once, every evil deed that the creature had done was exposed to him.

The faceless creature screamed as Harry growled in a deep tone, "Guilty." At once the Dementor flailed in his grasp before bursting into flames, reduced to a pile of ash upon the ground. Only it's cloak remained. He picked up the cloak, tossed it around his shoulders and his magic surged, transforming the ragged excuse of material into a dark leather jacket. His trainers transformed into thick black boots and rows of metal spikes lined the sides of his jeans. "Much better," he growled.

The other Dementor, which had turned its attention to Dudley, sensed what had happened to its counterpart and fled, attempting to escape the alley. Harry reached down and grabbed a rope that laid abandoned on the ground. The rope immediately turned into a flaming whip. He tossed it like a lasso, attempting to wrap it around the Dementor. The foul creature dodged the whip and took to the skies.

Harry stretched forth his hand and in his mind summoned his broom from Number Four, Privet Drive. Thirty seconds later, his Firebolt flew into his outstretched hand. As soon as the broom touched his hand, it began to vibrate as it's bristles burst into flame with the same unquenchable fire that covered his hands and arms. The broom twisted and grew like some strange tree. Twigs became rubber and wood became steel. With a burst of flame, his new ride roared to life. He wrapped the fiery whip around his torso then mounted his appropriately named Firebolt.

Harry shot into the sky like a flaming firework, leaving a trail of flaming tire tacks and pelting after the fleeing Dementor. He could not see the creature, but he could sense it's foul soul soaring through the skies ahead of him. Faster than he had ever flown before, he overtook the soul-sucking demon within minutes. Ripping the whip from his torso, he swirled it over his head, then flicked it at the creature. The fiery rope wrapped around the creature's body like a serpent. Hovering nearly a thousand feet above the ground, the Dementor screamed and struggled against the fiery rope as he pulled it closer.

The Dementor screamed in a voice like nothing Harry had ever heard, "Anything for my existence!"

"Why?" Harry growled. "Why should I bargain with you?"

"I vow my services to you, Rider!" the creature screeched. "As will all of my kind! We will serve you!"

"Why would you serve me, creature?" Harry retorted, as the evil deeds of the Dementor flashed before his eyes like a bizarre movie.

"You are the Rider! The penance of evil! The wielder of hellfire!"

"Are you evil?"

"We are the Harvesters of souls!" the creature screamed. "We once did the bidding of Blackheart, until a Rider destroyed him! We have served the bidding of the Wizards ever since, awaiting a new master to serve! Spare my existence and allow me to be thy messenger! I shall gather your army to do your bidding!"

Harry pulled the Dementor closer. "Who sent you here tonight to harvest my soul?"

"We were ordered here by the Wizards to harvest the soul of Harry Potter!"

"Gather your kind together and await my call. If any Wizards attempt to stop you, feast on their souls. Tell no others of who your new master is."

"I shall obey, Master!" the Dementor screamed.

Harry released the creature from his grasp, and watched as it bowed to him before flying silently off into the night. He knew the Dementors would do his bidding, lest he destroyed them all. His power had already been proven. He turned his ride around and pelted for the ground below. Something else beckoned his attentions. Something that needed dealing with.

~~~Rider~~~

"What's wrong, Dudley?" Vernon Dursley shouted, as he watched the sweaty mess that was his son collapse into the sofa chair.

"HHHHHHarry," Dudley stammered, his breathing erratic.

"Harry?" Vernon growled. "What has that freak done now?"

"Dudykins!" Petunia shrieked, entering the room. "What happened?"

"Quiet Petunia!" Vernon shouted, his face purple. "Dudley was about to tell me what that freak nephew of yours did to him!"

"HHHHarry's dead," Dudley choked out, slumping further into the chair.

Vernon was speechless. His mind could not even process the idea that Harry was dead. The boy was a freak and nuisance, but he had never truly wished him dead. While his mind stumbled over the reality before him, the doorbell rang.

"Coming!" Vernon grunted, swallowing hard as he willed himself to the door.

Vernon glanced back at his speechless wife and half conscious son before opening the door, expecting to see the police. Instead, what he saw almost made his chubby heart stop. A monster towered over him with a flaming skull for a head and a leathery black coat covering its torso. It raised a flaming skeletal hand and Vernon lost his footing, falling to the floor. He immediately scrambled backwards from the nightmare before him as Petunia screamed in the background.

"Vernon Dursley." the monster growled, as it slammed the door behind it.

"Wha wha wha wha wha what do yyyyou want?" Vernon squeaked in horror.

"That thing murdered Harry!" Dudley shouted, standing in the doorway, shaking and pointing a thick finger at the monster.

"Harry Potter is alive. I saved the two of you from a fate worse than death."

Something strange passed over Vernon at the thought of Harry being alive. It felt strangely like happiness. The sensation passed the moment his pudgy eyes refocused on the monster towering just inside his doorway.

"WWhat dddo you want from us?"

The monster let out a roar of laughter. "Nothing! I could condemn you for all the things that you have done to your nephew, but instead I'm going to leave you to rot in your own existence."

Vernon watched in silent horror as the thing raised a flaming hand. The next moment, an explosion thundered above them as all of Harry's things rumbled down the stairs, stacking themselves neatly at the bottom.

"The owl has flown, and now I leave as well." The creature waved a hand and all of Harry's things disappeared in a ball of flame.

As it turned to leave, Dudley broke the silence. "Where are you taking Harry?"

Vernon shivered as the thing looked back. "I've taken Harry nowhere. It's where Harry's going to take me, is what should have everyone worried."

Trembling, Vernon edged to the door and watched as the monster mounted a motorcycle straight from someone's nightmares. It wasn't from Vernon's, for he had never envisioned anything that frightening.

The creature ran a flaming hand over the handlebars as it commanded, "Take me to Sirius Black."

The motorcycle from hell roared to life. The front end raised high into the air as it tore away, leaving flaming marks on the ground and road in its wake.

~~~Rider~~~

Somewhere on the southern boarder of the United States, a man screamed out in his sleep. Another man rushed into the room, only to find the source of the scream pulling on his clothes.

"What's going on, Johnny?"

Johnny didn't answer. He walked past the other man and out the door, mounting a motorcycle that stood waiting for him like some obedient horse.

"Where are you going?"

Johnny looked back at the man. "London. Another Rider has been born."

Without another word, Johnny fired up the chopper. Seconds later, he had transformed into the blazing inferno, known as the Ghost Rider.

"England?" the man muttered to the wind.


A/N: Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed the read! Please leave a review. This is going to be a quick fic. It's something that I found sitting in my Dad's Cauldron and I just had to finish it! Updates, unlike the other fics, will come fast and furious (About a week between).

I know ... not the update we were expecting, but if you like action, I hope to make it worth the ride!

JB