Chapter Two – Of Fire

The motorcycle rumbled between the man's muscular thighs, scarred from long past wars. Harry Potter was returning home after such a long time, returning to the world he had once longed to be forever a part. In this world, so many that he had loved and cared for had fallen, so many who if not for him would still be alive today. The image flashed behind his eyes, the lines of bodies facing skyward to the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Harry contained the profane sadness at the thought of friend's lost: Fred Weasley, Tonks and Remus, Sirius…

It still hurt Harry to think of his beloved godfather. He had escaped from Azkaban only to die fighting for Harry.

"You can't blame yourself, dear, blame Him, and all those…Deatheaters…"

Molly spoke between sobs as Harry, after living for five months in the comfortable bosom of the Weasley home, could not stay static. He had to regain his lost opportunities, see the world.

He had chosen to travel Muggle, backpack and cheap tickets, across the world. The first stop had been New Zealand, followed by the Outback and up through the Philippines (by broom, cheating but Harry had enjoyed the chance to fly free again, especially after the exhausting plane journey to Oz). From the Philippines Harry had travelled further north, working towards Russia through India and Mongolia. After Russia, he passed back through Europe on a whirlwind capital city and sights tour had left Harry breathlessly wheeling into Gard Du Nord for the final few weeks of his three year travels. The world had been an amazing journey, full of wonder, danger, enlightenment, and, most importantly, peace. Each country presented new and exciting culture, from the Aborigines of the Australian bush to the desert Nomads and gypsies of the Arabian deserts; he had learnt the tranquillity of life away from the public eye. As a wizard, he would always be 'The Boy Who Lived' or 'The Saviour', but as plain 'Harry', he was what he had always wanted to be. He was normal.

On arrival in Paris he had rang Hermione and Ron, congratulating them on their (eventual) engagement. Three years was definitely a long time for Hermione to wait for Ron to pluck up the courage to ask the all-important question. Harry had missed foppish best friend, Ron, and the effervescent Hermione, both so close to his own heart as any brother or sister could be. Finally, after many huffs and hints dropped by Hermione, Ron had romantically swept her off her feet and popped the question whilst they both were in their first years of Ministry work; Hermione worked now in the magical creature welfare sector, whilst Ron was in partnership with his father and brother, Percy. Harry had happily accepted the role of best man at the wedding, 'No one else I'd want more for the job, mate. Especially as George'd probably leave me in a field somewhere in Spain', Ron had said, the grin he was wearing audible over the phone. The wedding was scheduled for a month after Harry's return to London, clearly manipulated for his benefit but that, to Harry, was more flattering than annoying.

"So who are you going to bring with you, Harry? Any nice Italian Stallion's you've met recently?"

Hermione had giggled, ignoring the muffled cough from Ron. Clearly the "Ginny" debacle was not all forgiven and forgotten.

It had been three years since Harry and Ginny had separated, for good reasons that both agreed upon. In the end, it had been a compromise rather than a relationship. The romance had been ebbing away as both grew apart, Harry fighting the press rather than the Dark Lord and Ginny slowly drifting away from the lights of being 'The Girlfriend of the Boy Who Lived'. In those brief months, Ginny had grown closer to one of her best friends, Neville, as Harry grew closer to one of his worst enemies, Draco. As both recognised the signs they separated, still good friends rather than enemies. Neville and her were much…safer…compared to her and Harry. Most important of all these things, she seemed happier. In her last letter to Harry, she had expressed how happy she was. It had been delivered to the Pha Luang Ba Tua, a Buddhist temple in which Harry at the time had been welcomed. The owl, small and accident prone, had managed to upset the tigers by its inquisitive nature. Harry had taken countless photos of little Pig sitting patiently on the head of Storm, an enormous male tiger, who simply yawned and fell asleep. The letter read of how Ginny had found a love so deep, so fulfilling, that she could not bare to think of losing Neville. Harry smiled at the thought of Ginny finding love, she deserved it after all things she had been through, especially with Harry. The letter had made Harry sigh; he was now truly at peace in the knowledge that he had not hurt Ginny with the news that he was gay. She had been unsurprised, contrary to the image of a screaming banshee Harry had in his head, saying that she had had 'an inkling' and then bursting into streams of laughter. With the knowledge he had embraced the multifaceted areas of his psyche and, both internally and externally, was calm and, at last, peaceful.

Harry finally touched down in London, looking out of the window to the traditional drizzle and grey which normally surrounded the smoggy city. As he exited Heathrow, he felt the cool splashing against his dark sun-tanned skin, providing an ethereal embrace that was welcoming to the touch, nosing at the scar on his forehead and running through his hair onto his battered leather jacket. He looked around and spied the vehicle of choice, Sirius' motorcycle. Beside the machine was a small, wizened man, dressed from head to foot in a shocking shade of electric blue. The image screamed wizard, with the use of a back-turned baseball cap to aid the blending into the Muggle world. Genius.

"Mr Potter, sir, so very pleased to meet you sir! Your motorcycle, sir, with a note sir from the sender sir and this sir. Mr Hagrid said sir that you would need these sir for the bike gives off heat sir, sign here sir please sir."

The words were well rehearsed, spilling out over the excited tongue of the wizarding courier. Harry suppressed a laugh, signing the parchment that had been shoved under his nose. He eyed the document and took a biro form his pocket. Once signed, he slipped a few galleons into the wizard palm and watched as he disappeared into thin air. Harry let the laugh explode from inside him as he shrugged in the trousers over his jeans.

The letter from Hagrid has been cheerful enough, slowly growing soggier as the rain interrupted Harry's reading. He shoved it in his pocket, rolling his eyes from weather to dark machine before him. He climbed on, feeling the familiar seat cushioning in all the wrong places. Harry patted the handlebars affectionately and closed his eyes. He was home. As he allowed himself to calm and melt into the aura of the bike, he felt the chill of the day. It crept up his spin and spread eagled at his shoulder blades. As he let out a deep held breath, he felt another, deeper chill. This came from a specific direction unlike the overall cold of London. From across the empty expanse of the car park outside the now quiet terminal Harry saw the dazzling golden eyes starring at him, boring into his very soul. They eyes belonged to an equally stunning man whose golden hair whipped about him as if he were standing in the middle of a solitary moor in Yorkshire. Harry looked away quickly, the image too fantastic to behold. He felt that to stare for too long would be rude, and he huffed when he realised the man was still starring at him. The body was beautiful, beyond compare, Harry could easily call it statuesque without fear of sounding too clichéd. It was the eyes, however, that were scorched behind Harry's own, the golden shade of a wild lions in the dark. This creature was definitely not human, how could anything that amazing be anything but a magical beast. Only one sprung to Harry's mind, the word escaping his lips in the tiniest of whispers. Vampire. Harry could not bear to be near such beauty and, turning the key in the engine, he escaped the gaze into the now breaking dawn.