Convalescence of Darkness
Disclaimer: Alas, I am not J.K. Rowling and do not own anything you recognize. It certainly would not, Poor College student that I am, be worth suing me for finding her work irresistible, when this is a non-profit endeavor.
Warnings: This Fic will involve a Dark Harry, not evil, dark. It will be slash and most probably OOC. If you don't like it, flee now. I cannot bring myself to write anything less.
Rating: Quite honestly, I haven't a clue. I marked it M, so that my imagination may have free and unrestricted reign and I need not worry about picky censors.
Summary: Near the breaking point, Harry disappears from the wizarding world for three years. When he returns with the knowledge that had been kept from him, he is no longer the scared little boy the world thought it knew. Slash HP/LV may be others, Dark Harry.
"Speech"
-Parseltongue-
Thoughts
Convalescence of Darkness
Chapter 1
In Which the Sun Begins to Set
Shattered, that was the only way to describe what was left of the castle. The remains of what had once been beautifully carved doors lay straight before them, the crumbling archway around them blackened and scorched by the power of the blast that had forced them open. Beyond them was nothing but rubble, a mountain of stone and timber, slowly beginning to crumble into dust.
Three figures stood before it, silhouettes against the twilight of the coming night. Each lost in their own dire thoughts, trying to overcome the shock at the scene before them.
It had been beautiful once, more a palace than a castle. Elegant halls and beautiful, spacious chambers connected by winding passages. One might have mistaken it for a museum, for all the artwork that was present. No matter the artist, both muggle and wizard pieces were present. A few of the more delicate pieces it was whispered, had been created by the elves. This was of course true, though not many would believe it.
The elves long ago went into hiding, fleeing from a world of thinly veiled hatred and corruption. Some believe them to have died off, others say that they were only a myth to begin with. No matter now, the works are beautiful no longer, they sit and rot nothing more than a decaying pile of rubbish.
"We have to reach him. He needs me."
The soft whisper, even muffled by the cloth that hid his companion's face, drew the taller man from his bitter musings. He berated himself for not paying attention. This is no time for reminiscence. He needs your help and yet you sit here, crying over lost trinkets. Daydreaming can get you killed.
He turned to the pair beside him. They were nearly unrecognizable from the hopeless creatures he had found lost and afraid so long ago. The quiet young man and the ragged wolf finally free of the chains of manipulation. They are so much stronger than I could have dreamed. When he first found them he thought they might never recover. There was nothing now that he didn't believe them capable of.
"Where do you think they're keeping him?"
"They're not."
He looked at the young man in surprise. The seal on the blood mage's magic prevented direct communication through the bond. And yet he seemed so sure.
"How do you know?"
"The seal remains intact. If they'd caught him they either would have killed him outright or locked him in away under a permanent magic dampening ward. They would not waste the energy it takes to maintain such a complex seal. That is," he finished sardonically, "unless you actually believe they're maintaining it for the peace of mind of a runaway savior."
Syraen was right, maintaining the seal on an un-bonded wizard of such strength would require three experienced wizards to remain in a magical trance at all times. They would need to pour their energies into it to counteract the deteriorating effect the victims own magic would have. With a bonded wizard it would require either the cooperation of the other bonded or a far greater force in order to stand up to assault on two fronts rather than just one. They would not want to hold the seal in place any longer than they absolutely must.
"Do you think they let him go then?"
He didn't bother to try and conceal his confusion, the castle had been destroyed a little over a year ago in what was meant to be the final strike of the war. The man they were looking for was the primary target of the assault, with his magic sealed as it was, he shouldn't have been able to survive no less escape.
"No."
"Then?..."
He let the question hang knowing that it would be understood. Perhaps he portkeyed away when the attack came? No, they seal on his magic wouldn't have allowed the portkey to acknowledge his existence. If he found a way to tamper with the seal then… but no, Syraen would have felt any change through the bond.
He studied his companions as he thought. They seem so calm, hiding their emotions behind serene masks. Even I can't read them anymore. It was true, the only outward sign of distress was the way the young mans hand was clenched in the thick tawny fur at the ruff of the wolf's neck. The casual observer would think that the situation caused no more worry than a spilled glass of water.
"I really don't know. Something very nearly destroyed him in the attack. If I hadn't already learned to accept our bond I don't think even it would have had the strength to save him The bond may have held him in this world but he is little more than a broken shell. Something must have intervened and gotten him to safety somehow. He wouldn't have had the strength to save himself."
"I was hoping that coming here would give us a better idea of what happened. All it's done is increase my resolve to reward the person loyal enough to get him out of there."
While neither his stance, nor his voice, betrayed anything other than a relaxed sort of apathy, his companions knew that his heart must be nearly in shreds. They had been at his side day after day training together, waiting. Waiting for the day that that he could return and aid his blood mage. For the day that they could begin to restore balance to the world. They if any had learned what lay behind his masks. Had found their way through the barriers around his heart.
A low whine drew his attention as the wolf butted his companion with its head in an attempt to comfort the younger man. As he watched Syraen sank down despondently to kneel beside the Remus, taking his gaze from the rubble for the first time since they had arrived, only to stare searchingly into the sky.
Lyzair worriedly watched his companions. Syraen hadn't acted so defeated in a long time. It had seemed to take an eternity after he had found the wolf and boy lying broken in the forest before he could get either of them to open up even a little. Slowly they had come to trust each other and he learned of the horrors that that had driven Syraen nearly to the point of self destruction even with Remus, his last and only loyal friend, at his side keeping him together.
He had worked tirelessly to dispel the lies dominating their lives and undo that damage inflicted upon them both. He taught them how to unlock and control their abilities many of which they hadn't known existed. In the last three years they had each gone from feeling like they would always be alone to becoming closer than they ever could have imagined. They swore an oath of brotherhood before they set out. He would be the support his brothers needed. Even if it killed him.
"Wherever he is we'll find him, we won't give up."
" I should know Zai, I should know where he is. I know that he's alive and in pain and nothing else. The fact that I don't know, when I should, worries me more than anything."
Finally Lyzair understood the true extent of his distress. Such a fine Line. When he was very young, Syraen had been bonded to Lyzair's heir by a spell gone awry and no matter what anyone had tried, they could neither figure out what caused the bond, nor how to break it. Even the seal could only block direct communication between the two. If Syraen could not find the blood mage through their bond, he was very well hidden indeed. For good or for ill however, was yet to be seen. They needed him, he could not be replaced. Without him, Syraen will fall apart and all of our plans will be tossed into the abyss.
Syraen stood the wolf instantly falling into place by his side. Looking at his companions he made a decision, the confusion that had plagued him only a moment earlier replaced by unyielding resolve.
"We're going to the watchtower."
"Are you sure?"
Lyzair asked taking his place at his brothers side knowing that a forgotten color was about to be reworked into the threads of fate.
"Yes" Syraen's voice was firm. He was finally sure. It was time to seal the covenant and he would not look back.
Authors Note: And so my very first Fic is re-born. I now know why I swore I'd never have children. I thank everyone that has deigned to read this and will welcome all reviewers, even those that declare it a horrible monster, although I much prefer constructive guidance. Also I am looking for a godparent. So if anyone would like to be my beta, please let me know. My sincerest apologies to those poor souls who are trying to put up with me.
Posted January 14th 2005
Updated January 27th 2005 – To correct errors and revise.
Re-written November 16th 2005 – I've never been happy with my first version of anything why should this be the exception.
Re-posted – February 6th 2007 - Finally
Names Changed - July 31, 2010 (Tired of my fidgeting yet?)