Author's Note!!!
Sorry about last chapter people, and how it got off the Harry and Draco track for a while, but I needed to set the scene and all that good stuff, as boring as it was to write some of it. Hope that you liked it anyway. This chapter is much better, I promise, cause it focuses on them a lot more, and foreshadows a little too, if you squint. Don't look too hard, you might get an aneurism if you do, lol.
Without further ado, I dedicate this chapter to…
Rala!
My newest reviewer, thanks for commenting on so many chapters! I hope that you agree that this chapter is better than the last. There's only a little movie recap in the beginning, but after it will all be from either Harry or Draco's view. I'm glad that you enjoyed the crossovers, there will be one more, and you will not know when! The next book is not a cross over at all, just a hint.
Review after Reading, and I will be Updating! Love you all, continue to support and I will try not to disappoint.
Book Two Chapter 11: The Coming and What Comes After…
The throne room was quite different now. Its tapestries and banners were mended and the fires were roaring. Théoden's men were less shifty as well, as if they felt more comfortable in this situation.
Now was when they should have been the most nervous…
"Your lands are being closed in, the towns on the fringe are attacked more and more as the days pass," Gandalf reported firmly, "You need to amount an attack of your own; gather your forces swiftly."
"You want me to start an open war?" Théoden asked, a little angry and surprised.
"Open war is upon you," Aragorn said, "Whether you believe it or not,"
Théoden gave Aragorn a hard look before he spoke again. "I know what you ask of me, but I will not bring any more harm to my people. We will go to Helm's Deep," and that was the end of the conversation.
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Gandalf was fuming, much like he did when Mary or Pippin were especially annoying.
"Helm's Deep! That place is a death trap," Gandalf growled.
"Théoden is only doing what he thinks is best for his people," Aragorn reasoned.
"Be that as it may, there is only one way in and out of the keep…" He sighed. They followed him into the stables, where he led his horse out and mounted it. He looked down on them and continued, "The road to the keep is very open, be on your guard. I am going to do what I can to find help,"
"You're leaving us?" Legolas asked, curious and a little down-hearted.
"I will come back. You have two very capable wizards who have more than proven themselves, do not worry about it," He straightened in his seat, and spoke softly to Aragorn before clicking his heels into the horse and riding off.
"I don't see how he could call you capable; with you almost nearly yourself killed every chance you get," Draco smirked.
"Says the idiot who tried to protect himself from a gigantic whip with his bare arms," Harry smirked back, rolling his eyes.
But even as they snipped at each other and prepared for the journey, Harry felt a weight that he had almost forgotten about return. It was the hard pull of responsibility, of expectation, something he should have been used to. To him, it was a heavy thing that only dragged on his body, grinding against his psyche, wounding him as the pressure increased with every waking moment. A small part of him had hoped that being in a different place, away from the misplaced fans and Voldemort's demented watch would give him a break, a release from reality…
It had been fine in the Avatar's world, only really grating on him right before they left. It had been fine when they began travelling with the Fellowship, but then…
Boromir died. Mary and Pippin were stolen, Frodo and Sam continued on their own. Gandalf's careful guiding and almost playful nature had all but disappeared with his transformation into Gandalf the White. Even Legolas and Gimli had lost their bantering. It was as taxing as being back home…
Is this what the necklace wants to show me? He asked himself, that it could be so much worse? That the entire world could already be falling? He had never asked for much in his life, just that he wished for his friends and surrogate family to be safe and that Voldemort would leave off. He would give his life for that, no question. He had a feeling that that was the true price for the destruction of the Death Eaters and their leader. He just hoped that no one else would have to suffer any more before he was prepared to fight the final fight…
That was another thing. He knew that he was prone to putting himself in harm's way as a fact of his general existence, but he hated it when his friends wanted to join him. Had forcefully done so, so many times. It tore him in two when they did that; one half of him glad that they were willing to help him no matter what, and the other half simply screaming, begging have them listen and keep away so that he could deal with the big badies and they could be safe at Hogwarts playing wizards chess and wait for him to return. If he ever did.
His thoughts plagued him deep into the night, as he stared at the red wall of his tent.
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The move, even with all the people from the town, would only take a day or less. Harry and Draco had given up their horses to a couple of families who needed help carrying their possessions. They were walking with Legolas and Aragorn, somewhere in the middle of the long line of people. The townsfolk were in a much better mood, that was easy to see. Helm's Deep was obviously a very safe haven in their minds, and Harry wished that it was just as strong as they hoped, so it could shelter them from any and every harm. He hated to think what was to happen to the kids if the stronghold fell.
At that moment, thinking about the well being of the townspeople, he felt a chilling, burning, and was suddenly completely uncomfortable in his skin. Biting sensations started dancing over his feet, making his muscles twitch in protest as they traveled up his legs.
Something was wrong. What he was feeling was not fear; it felt like a warning. The earth was...Warning him? He listened carefully, but did not hear anything past the shuffling of feet and quiet clambering. This did not settle him, the foreboding only heightened at the absence of justification for the feeling. 100 yards later, and the call of alarm was still there. He pulled out his broom.
"How close are we to the keep?" He asked.
"Only a few more miles or so," Aragorn said, gazing ahead.
"I'm going to look around a bit. I'll meet you at the keep when I'm through," Aragorn nodded at his announcement, but Draco looked suspicious. Harry walked away from the line, and the blond followed.
"What's up?" Draco asked gravely, not liking the expression Harry wore.
"You...You don't feel anything?" Harry stared out, not wanting to meet Draco's eyes.
"Feel what? Why are you so tense?" Draco narrowed his eyes, annoyed that Harry looked so disconcerted.
"I just...I think something's wrong. I don't know what...That's why I'm just going to fly around a bit, see if I can find out if I'm just worrying over nothing," Harry mounted his broom. "Keep close to the group, and ring me if something happens,"
Draco bristled slightly at the order, not wanting to obey Harry. He tried to shove his protest down, seeing how out of it Harry was. He nodded, and Harry took off.
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Harry flew out and then up, staring at the huge wall that had been erected between the walls of a narrow valley. Helm's deep. It seemed sturdy enough, and quiet. Nothing there. He watched the line of people, now reminding him of ants, worm toward it, and saw nothing trailing behind them, either.
Well…fuck. That didn't help much. Not that he was hunkering for some unwanted trouble, but there was something not right, at all. And he couldn't even see it!
He wasn't going to question his mental state…Nope, not again. He continued avidly searching for the problem, to make it tangible and not a figment of his imagination. Hell, he'd be glad for just a mountain lion or bear that was following the people too close at this point.
He noticed that his nerves had calmed slightly the higher he went. He turned away from the gathering and flew out further before touching the ground again, testing. The dread of something wicked permeated his being strongly, and he knew that he was on the right track. Harry flew up just above the canopy of the small wood and ten miles or so later, behind the crest of a wide hill, he saw it.
Them.
A gigantic mass of black, marching hellions that were called Orcs. Their numbers seemed never-ending…it sent his heart pounding a hundred times its normal speed and left his mouth dry. They were headed for Helm's Deep, that was certain.
Fuck!
A lot of good swearing about it will do me, he thought to himself after a moment. The size didn't matter, should not matter. Magic was just as powerful, and he had to believe that he was just as powerful, if not more, than the army in front of him. He knew that it was impossible for him to be able to tackle the entire thing by himself, but he could damn well weaken it, he thought with determination.
He flew at them without a second hesitation, letting his anger and hate swell above all else in his mind and heart. He couldn't help wondering what was happening at the keep though, thinking about what was happening with the other wizard from his world…
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Hours later at the keep, Draco was pacing in the hall that served as the new throne room. The others were all occupied with discussions about managing the compound, keeping the morale up, and all other manner of conversation and worry…
Except for talk of one raven haired emerald-eyed wizard who had yet to return to them. It felt as if he was waiting outside that mine exit again, desperate to know what he could not see, but all the while knowing that it was not anything good. The rest of the journey to the keep went without a hitch, and Draco was contemplating whether or not to actually search for Harry, to try and contact him using the mirrors.
But he didn't want to seem like a worried child, wondering if he would be able to see his puppy again soon. He winced at the analogy in his mind. Puppy and Potter did not go together in any sense, because Harry was not needy or clingy in the least. And he wasn't cute either…
No, he was just bloody sexy-
Draco shook his head fiercely. He was not going down that road again; the weird occurrence at Lothlorien was the last of it. No more unwanted, unwarranted thoughts of those sorts about Potter.
Said sexy – no more, damnit! – teen waltzed into the hall not two minutes later, looking winded and rushed. He walked to the King and Aragorn, who were standing near one another at the end of the hall. He spoke to then in hushed tones, not wanting anyone else to hear. The sudden pale looks on their faces worried everyone else in the room enough as it was.
"And you are sure that..." Théoden asked aloud.
"Yes, they are coming this way," Harry answered solemnly. Théoden turned away in deep thought. It didn't take him long to summon his guard and issued the order, "Gather every capable man and dress them for battle. Bring the women and children into the room underneath this one and barricade the doors. It seems we have no other choice... prepare for a fight tonight."
Draco, still on the other side of the room, stood stunned. So soon? What had Harry seen? Hell, what had that imbecile done?
He watched as Harry stalked back toward the door to the throne room, and looked straight into his eyes. There was something more he did not tell the King.
Draco didn't ask how he knew that only by seeing Harry up close, but it had him following Harry the next second. Harry went down the narrow paths of the keep until he reached an unoccupied, crumbling hole-in-the-wall room, but it still provided cover. Draco watched as Harry gently removed his cloak and satchel, setting them on the ground. Harry's expression was pinched. Slowly, even more gently, he removed the tunic he was wearing and revealed the cuts and a puncture wound in his side.
"I'm sorry, but... you're better at it.... would you?" Harry asked brokenly. Draco gawked at the bleeding cuts and the request. His eyes hardened and he pulled off the water bag hanging from his shoulder.
As he bended the water he spoke, "Do you get off on pain, you moron? It seems anywhere you go; you have to let somebody take a souvenir from you,"
"I didn't see the archers until it was already too late," Harry sighed and winced and Draco cleansed and healed him, "There were so many... I had to do something,"
"How many?" Draco asked, wondering how difficult the coming night would be.
"I couldn't count them all, but if I had to guess..." Harry moaned slightly as Draco worked on the puncture in his side, "I'd say somewhere around 10,000, maybe more."
"T-Ten thousand?!" Draco almost shouted in panic. There maybe a rather large wall protecting them, but if the Orcs had archers and knew that they were coming here, they probably other means to get around the protection.
"Bloody hell..." He breathed out. "How do we even stand a chance?"
"I attacked them on my own and survived without too many scratches." Harry said.
"Yes, well, what about the rest of us who don't have some sort of guardian angel looking after their arse?" Draco remarked sarcastically. "And you call these scratches?" He flicked one for emphasis.
Harry bit the inside of his cheek to contain a groan, "Bastard," he muttered.
"Yeah, yeah," Draco shook his head, and finished fixing Harry up. "I just hope that we're strong enough," He commented lightly, trying to pass off the seriousness of the situation.
"I do too," Harry said, looking forlorn. He pulled on his tunic and cloak again, walking out to the edge of the wall. The expanse of the valley and the horizon was breath taking in the twilight, and Harry sighed again.
"Why is this place so fucked up? I've never seen anywhere more beautiful, not even Hogwarts," Harry closed his eyes and breathed in slowly. "It's like some sort of cruel joke,"
"I don't see anyone laughing," Draco stood next to the raven, sighing. Silence stretched out between them, and they both stared out into the distance, not saying another word.
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The night crept up quickly on them. Soldiers; some too young, some too old, and hardly any in between, lined up at the bottom level behind the wall. Elfish archers had arrived to aid at the last moments of sunset, and they stood at the top of the wall. Few human archers were beside them. Harry and Draco were positioned on their brooms above the wall, and they watched as the dark army marched further into the valley.
It started to rain as the Orcs stopped before the thick wall. There was a great pause as both sides fidgeted and waited for the first attack to be thrown. An arrow flew from one of the human men on the wall, and took down an Orc in the front line.
That drove everyone else to move. Legolas commanded the archers to shoot, and the Orcs began to push on the wall, bringing forward several tall ladders with hooks on the end.
The ladders were Harry and Draco's queue. They swerved and dove, taking down and breaking few of them. Then the catapults started to fire on the keep, and Harry went to take care of them. There had to be at least twenty or more of the huge things, so were an untold amount of the confounded ladders, which blended in with the Orc's dark skin and the night's shade.
Draco was vastly glad for the rain. He could gather if from any of the large puddles forming and slice the ladders to pieces in moments. There were more than he could handle, but he didn't stop cutting them, even after he became the Orc's new favorite target practice game. A few times, he offed a couple of the archers with ice stakes out of pure frustration. He found his aim quickly improving the closer they got to hitting him. A disillusion charm only went so far when you were moving about as he was.
Harry was having similar problems, but there were fewer archers where he was flying. They just aimed some of the catapults at him to make up for it. He would pick up chunks of earth (most which still had Orcs on it) and use it to beat down the rock and fire-slingers. When most of the early-war machines had been effectively pulverized, he flew over to Draco to help.
He saw that Draco had made a pretty big pile of firewood for himself. His arm had been caught by an arrow, from either side. Harry fell into pace with the blond and the pile got bigger.
They were just as surprised as the rest when an Orc ran forward with a torch and blew the gigantic wall to high hell. The rock bits sprayed everywhere, hitting many from both sides.
After a pregnant pause, the Orcs swarmed forward.
Draco and Harry flew in low, dismounting and pocketing their brooms. The disturbance had caused many of their allies to run into the inner keep. Some of the unfortunate soldiers on the ground lay dead, sinking into the mud. When Harry saw that there were no allies standing between him and the Orc army, he sent a wave of fire that scattered and pushed them back, giving time to those that were struggling to find shelter.
He pulled his sword and felt it pulsate with the magic he was emanating. He felt a similar build up beside him, and was reassured that Draco would stay with him. Together, they pushed the army back…
And once more, they were lost in battle, adrenaline-lust.
Neither was very sure as to how they fought. They were unfocused on individual actions, just on the feel of excitement and lost in the heart-pounding dance of fighting. It didn't matter that the others had retreated; their synchronization, their togetherness was unbroken, but still unknown to them. They heard, and paused as one. A low, loud horn was blasted in the right tower of the keep, above all battle cries and fear.
The door to the throne room burst open and the King led a group on horses to push the Orcs back out of the keep: a final stand. That in combination with the new flare of magic that sprang from Harry and Draco in reaction to the King's ferocity had the Orcs fleeing the keep…
Only to be met by Gandalf and Aoden's men, who attacked on sight.
Those Orcs that could escaped and slipped past the warriors, while the rest were left to slaughter. Swords, knifes, and blunt weapons slashed and conked, stabbed and ripped in terrible noises and sprays of black blood. In their retreat, the Orcs lost all drive to fight back it seemed, and scrambled about meaninglessly until someone ended their misery.
It was the second time that Harry and Draco had been covered in blood. The first, Draco had not realized until he was in Lothorien after coming back to camp and he had scrubbed and cleaned his skin until it was bright red and his clothes until they almost had had holes in them. Harry had been asleep, and the Elves had seen to his bathing. But even the memory of the blood before did not create any sort of tolerance for it. The black blood of the Orcs was of the same consistency and feel as any other blood he had been faced with, and it was revolting.
He water-bended the stuff off of himself quickly and as apathetically as he could, trying hard not to think of what he had done to get it there. How he had forced his blade through flesh and bone, amputated…
Draco was very much in the same situation. He hadn't recognized himself while he was fighting, and the thoughts that had run through his mind as he cut and killed…
In this way, neither appreciated the celebration that sang and cheered around them.
Contemplating the potential that they had seen in themselves for something that they had never considered before… It would have been fine if they had been diligent, business-like and cold in their methods, but…
They realized, for the second time, that they had enjoyed it.
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A week later, Gondor, the human kingdom to the north, called for their help.
Théoden ordered his men and all the men they could find to heed the call. With only two nights rest and two full days of travel on horseback, they would be at Minas Tirith, the last kingdom of men of the old days.
It was a little weird at first, with all the looks they received for their method of travel. Harry and Draco rode their brooms, much slower than normal, next to the herd of manned horses. Draco didn't think he'd ever be more amused than with the wide-eyed awe that some of the soldiers stared with, and with the sparse banter with Harry to accompany him, it was almost too soon before the second night crept onto them.
Their tent had been set up and food 'prepared' on the blue blanket when they saw Lord Elrond walk into the King's tent, shortly followed by Aragorn. Not fifteen minutes later, Aragorn reappeared with a new sword at his side and began to saddle his horse. Harry refolded the banquet blanket before walking up to him with Draco not far behind.
"What was that all about?" He asked, eyeing the Elf Lord as he left the camp as inconspicuously as he had entered it.
"He wanted to talk with me of those who dwell in the mountain," Aragorn gestured with his head the huge rocky thing that they had made camp at the base of. He seemed a little agitated, but above all else weary. Like he was the one responsible for all the lives at stake in this war.
"Mountain dwellers?" Draco asked, sounding a little wary of Aragorn's tone.
"Aye, and we are going with him," Gimli walked up with Legolas beside him, a horse already saddled and led by the rein that Legolas held with them.
Aragorn smiled slightly at the commanding statement, glad that he had such friends.
Draco sighed and packed up the tent with a sweep of his arm and Harry stuffed the food blanket back into its satchel. They both pulled out their brooms and resized them, looking to Aragorn expectantly to led them.
"You do not have to journey with us. They will probably need you more here," Aragorn commented, raising an eyebrow at Draco's agitated expression.
"The Lady Galadriel told us we must follow you." Harry shrugged, "Besides, I sense a lot of magic in the mountain,"
"Its pretty suffocating," Draco eyed the rock with contempt.
Aragorn nodded and then mounted his horse. Not wanting to attract attention from the slowly settling camp, Harry and Draco followed the two horses on foot until they passed the trail entrance to the mountain.
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Two hours on horse and broom-back later, and they were faced with a rectangle stone archway leading into the depths of the mountain.
"This looks a lot like Moria..." Draco shifted on his perch.
As if his voice over the quiet triggered it, there was a strange noise coming from the opening. Two bright blue eyes glowed in the darkness, and the dismounted horses were spooked and ran off. Harry gulped and wished that he could do the same, before he heard the voice.
"Who dares come to disturb this place, this grave in which I live...?" it said. There was a moment in Harry's head that things didn't register, like why the others just seemed confused, until he suddenly understood.
"We come baring no ill will, we just wish to pass into the mountain," he answered in the ancient tongue that sounded like nonsense to everyone else.
"Do you come with a sacrifice? The man in blue looks suitable enough, I have always preferred fair-haired offers," The beast purred out.
Harry looked at Draco, a tad panicked.
"Is that a yes? It has been so long..." The huge metallic colored snake slithered from its captivity, making the group back up and put a hand to their weapons.
As the basilisk moved on Draco, Harry stepped in front of him at the last second, arms spread. "You will not be feasting on him," he hissed sharply.
"You deny me food? You are foolish indeed," The snake narrowed its slit eyes further, rearing back and letting out a threatening growl-like sound.
"Harry..." Draco said slowly, "What did you do to piss off a seventy foot basilisk?"
"You should be thanking me," Harry snarled back, smirking in the blond's direction, "It thinks you look fantastic for an appetizer,"
Draco glared at the remark and paled all at once. Then he stepped past Harry, a determined look on his face as he stood before the monster.
"Hey! Arsehole! You think you can take me?" He yelled at the snake.
"Ooo, he's feisty. I always love a good hunt, start running now, maybe I will let you live a little longer...No promises though," The snaked laughed.
"Is that bastard laughing at me?" He asked incredulous, "Are you laughing at me!"
When the thing winked at him, insulting him even further, Draco fumed. Without a second thought, he pulled the earth under the snake's belly up, then fashioned three cuffs around the body. The giant snake looked back at the restraints, amused before he began moving closer...
Or trying to. The basilisk still as soon as he started, tugging on himself but he could not move. He hissed loudly at Draco, who retained his trademark smirk.
"You are one big bloody bastard, I'll give you that," Draco said, "But against a wizard, you should know better,"
At Draco's taunt, the snake lunged forward, but found that a fourth cuff had been formed. His body thrashed back and forth, smacking the ground, and the hold did not break. The basilisk sagged after a few more struggles were found futile, and hissed softly at Harry, who looked like he was about to swallow his tongue. Harry hissed back, and then looked to Draco.
"He submits," Harry said.
"What? Of course he does, I've got him trapped," Draco huffed.
"No, I mean he said, 'I submit myself to my master,' " Harry shook his head.
Draco's eyes went impossibly wide. Then he looked smug. "First Slytherin since Salazar himself to have a basilisk under his control,"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Hopefully I won't have to kill it this time,"
Draco glared at the raven, "You'll have to go through me for that to happen, you bloody arse,"
Harry hissed at the giant again, and it nodded in return. "I think you can release him now, just be very careful. He is a snake after all,"
"Who do you think you're talking to?" Draco snapped.
"Oh, yes, I forgot that you were the master of all things slimy and bottom-feeding," Harry smiled toothily.
Draco was about to comment back, but Aragorn interrupted him, "Is the beast under his control?"
"Yes, it has given his life up for Draco," Harry looked half bemused, half wary.
"He would be a great asset to the battle," Aragorn trailed his eyes along the huge form of the snake.
"I wonder if Orc would give him a stomach ache," Draco wondered laughingly. He turned back to the snake, removing the cuffs and asked, "You hungry, Mitus?" The snaked looked excited and ready for anything.
"Mitus? You already named it?" Harry laughed aloud, "You're just as bad as Hagrid,"
"Shut up. At least I didn't name it Norbert or something stupid like that," Draco glared.
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Author: Sorry it took so long! Hope you guys like this chapter; it really moved the story forward. This is pretty much the last chapter of Book Two, and the next will be a transitory one to the next part of the story.
Review, and the next chapter should be there sooner than this one.
Love you all!
IcyBlue