Last Time: Harry finally feels something after killing Lucius Malfoy and something snaps inside of him. Could it affect his status as the Pale Rider?

Book 2: Pestilence

Chapter 22

Harry stared at the letter in his hand. Even though it was just an hour before the time of the meeting, he still had barely gotten ready. What would he say? What would he do? His mind still reeled from his fit. He still had such dark whispers in the back of his mind. Had he failed his legacy? Had he failed Professor Flitwick?

Had he failed as the Pale Rider?

Dust had been awfully quiet on the subject.

He sighed softly and stood up. He went to the bathroom to shower. Regardless of everything else, he knew that she wouldn't tolerate him not showing up. Not after the events of the Ministry Ball. As he stood with the hot water beating down upon him, he felt sickened to his stomach. His analytical mind failed him, how did he cope with such emotions? He was not used to such things.

He should blow the whole meeting off. He needed a better handle on the emotions rolling through him, but if anyone deserved the chance to do something to him, it would be her.

Narcissa Malfoy.

Harry finished his shower and took a moment to dress a bit smartly. A pair of slacks and a collar polo shirt were not acceptable clothes when seeing Narcissa from what she said. So he wore a pair of slacks, a button down dress shirt and a pair of the duster styled robes that he favored.

He walked down to the Floo and grabbed a pinch of the powder. It was the last chance he had to back out. He could always stay home. She wasn't allowed inside the Wards so casually that she could slip on by.

No, he needed to do this.

He threw the powder into the flames and stepped through. Once he was at the Manor, he took a moment to clear himself of the ashes. A female House Elf saw him and came over, vanishing the rest of the ashes. "I will announce you to the Mistress!" The House Elf squeaked.

Harry began to walk through the dark décor of Malfoy Manor, formerly Black Manor. Abraxas Malfoy was a shrewd man, getting the Manor as part of the dowry with Narcissa for his son. It had undoubtedly been quite the piece of cunning, but Harry didn't know the story behind it.

He heard a grandfather clock sound, announcing it to be Eight P.M. as the House Elf he had followed declared him there to Narcissa. He pushed the door open and strode into the parlor where it was just Narcissa Malfoy, sitting in front of a fireplace in a plush lounge chair.

Classical Mundane music played through the air, and Narcissa seemed to savor the sound with a smile upon her red lips. She raised a dark amber fluid to her lips and took a sip. "Punctual as always Harry." She said, sounding quite pleased as she swirled what was undoubtedly a very strong liquor. "Come, sit."

Harry walked over towards the chair opposite Narcissa and slowly sat down. "Beethoven?" Harry asked as he sat. It seemed… odd… hearing the music of a Mundane Composer playing in the home of a staunch Pure Blood.

"Mm… yes… Absolutely love Beethoven's works, love Bach's works. I won't bore you with the trivial details of such." Narcissa said as she closed her eyes and took another drink. "Lucius would have never allowed it. He always threw a fit if he could ever hear the music playing."

She gave a wicked smirk. "Of course, if only he knew I want to a concert for Led Zepplin in Germany back in the early seventies just after Graduation."

Harry was so shocked he didn't even know what to say. The woman that could arguably be called the Pure Blood Queen of Magical Britain… had seen a Led Zepplin concert?

"Mm… The man I was with appreciated the corset I wore… all night long in fact. I wonder if he can still do that trick with his hands…"

"I don't need to hear this!" Harry said. Gah, it felt like someone was burning an image into his mind. An image he did NOT want!

Narcissa laughed into her hand a moment and smiled more. "No, but it did break the tension." Narcissa sat up in the lounge chair more, tucking the heels of her bare feet against her rear. The position shifted the slit in the woman's dress and Harry thought he caught a glimpse of the tops of the stockings she wore. "Relax Harry, I just want to talk. Draco isn't here, he's at the Greengrass manor to spend the weekend with his Betrothed. Indulge me, please?"

Harry offered a slow nod. The flutters in his stomach, the uneasiness… It seemed to melt away. Whether it was just shock at Narcissa's taste or her stories, Harry didn't know.

"How do you feel, Harry? It's been a little over a week now since you killed Lucius. You've gotten to process everything, think about it. Tell me the truth."

Harry wanted to go with his gut reaction. But something told him to take a moment, that Narcissa had all the time in the world for him to take a moment. He looked to his hands, hands that shook ever so slightly. He had not been so steady handed as he used to be. He tried to take stock of what he was feeling.

Narcissa gave another laugh. "Harry, please. Don't tell me you're mourning that man's death? Do you honestly feel grief?"

Put so bluntly… "I don't know." Harry said. "I don't know what I'm feeling. What I've been feeling."

Narcissa took a deep pull of the amber fluid before holding the glass out to Harry. "Drink." She said politely.

Harry took the rounded glass and stared into the amber liquid. No doubt it would burn going down, but it couldn't be like Grog. He raised it to his lips and took a deep drink. It burned going down and Harry coughed slightly. But it didn't feel like he was immediately going to vomit like the Grog had done to him.

Narcissa leaned back into the chair some more with a smile upon her face. "Lucius, as I told you, was a friend and the occasional lover. There wasn't love between us. We were too vastly different. Lucius was a racist bigot… whoops tautology." It was clear that there wasn't going to be an apology for what she said either.

"Oh we had similar views on certain subjects. But whereas he wanted to enslave or slaughter the Muggle Born, I honestly don't care so long as they remember the status of others. You're an Heir to two very prominent, very powerful families Harry. You're entitled. You must be held to a higher standard than they, but they must also realize that you are an Heir and soon to be Lord. In the past you've expressed interest in Muggle Politics and that you will have a seat on their House of Lords. You are, for better or worse, their Social Better. You have wealth, you hold businesses, you can sign their paychecks. Those of lesser class than you work for you so that you can continue to do for them. That is what it means to be Lord."

Harry understood that. It was a symbiotic relationship between Lord and his workers. They did the work, and he paid them for it. They did the work and he kept having work for them.

"But you shouldn't be upset, or grieve, or feel guilty, or all sorts of other things that those like Dumbledore and his ilk would have you feel. Lucius Malfoy was a monster, through and through. I could tell you things that would revolt you, I could tell you things that will make you question many other members of the upper echelons of society." Narcissa said. "He tried keeping it from me, and I tried not to see it. Perhaps I am just as guilty of being a monster." Narcissa's House Elf brought her another glass. "Thank you Evie." She said. She poured herself another glass of the amber liquid from a crystal decanter.

She took another hearty drink, leaning back into the lounge chair. "But the fact remains, you, Harry, have removed a blight from burrowing and feasting at the bosom of our fair society. One of many, and the first of many that you will undoubtedly have to remove. Their Lord wants you for some reason, and should that Lord come back, he will gather his followers and they will come after you once more. So do not mourn the death of Lucius Malfoy, or any others that you must kill."

Harry was taken back by the bluntness of the sophisticated woman. She claimed Lucius to be a friend, and yet she seemed glad to be rid of him. Perhaps it was more freeing than Harry realized. She had done her duty to society, as some of his peers in the upper echelons might see it, and she was looking to do for herself now.

Harry took another drink from the dregs of the liquor left in his glass. He was far too high strung at the moment for the conversation, and he hoped the liquor might help in that regard.

"So tell me truthfully Harry? What do you feel?" Narcissa probed once more.

Harry took a moment, swirling the glass of liquor. There wasn't much left. Maybe another gulp in the glass. What did he feel about Killing Lucius? It wasn't nothing, it couldn't ever be nothing. Harry wasn't as unfeeling as he thought, he simply knew how to hold his emotions better.

"Relief." Harry finally said bluntly. "I won't ever have to deal with the parasite that Lucius Malfoy was. I won't have to play his games, deal with his machinations. I know another will undoubtedly step up to the plate with Lucius' death, but there is very likely chance there will be a power struggle within his supports and they will splinter.

"I feel regret. Not because of his death or that I killed him. I regret toying with him and putting innocent lives in danger. I feel regret because I didn't end his life sooner before he attempted to attack the crowd. There were dozens of opportunities where I could have made it look like an accident. A cutting spell of some sort hitting too deep, his body impacting with the marble too hard…" Harry shook his head.

"I feel like I've spat on what Professor Flitwick taught me, I feel like I spat on the name of Potter. Warriors do not toy with their opponent, duelists don't toy. Get in, get the job done." Harry finished off the liquor and set the glass down on the table with the decanter.

"Lucius may have had a life, and it may have been wrong for me to play judge, jury, and executioner. But you are right. He was a soulless monster, putting school children at risk by unleashing a basilisk just to try and undermine someone. He cared nothing about the future, even for Purebloods. He cared solely about himself."

Harry looked to his hands. They were no longer shaking. They were steady as stone once more, and ready to serve him well. It may have taken days to get there, it may have taken several breakdowns, but he finally understood his emotions to the fullest. Let the people think he felt nothing about Lucius' death. He didn't need to explain himself to them.

Was he going to apologize about killing Lucius? No. Was he going to feel regret? No. Was he going to stop using potentially lethal spells? No.

Harry was the Pale Rider. To challenge him like Lucius had was to court death. He wrenched back the disguise, the mask, that Lucius Malfoy had portrayed and gotten seemingly everyone to follow. He showed everyone the deranged mind inside, and then showed everyone just how truly weak the man was.

Narcissa smiled at the confidence brimming in the Potter heir once more. There wasn't a meekness to the young man anymore. She poured the glass full of the brandy once more and passed it over to him once more. "To you Harry." She raised the glass.

"And to you Narcissa. Thank you." Harry said before he took a deep drink, letting the liquor burn its way down. Perhaps that was what he needed. He needed the mind of one of the Darkest oriented people he knew to talk to him, to explain things to him. It definitely helped in his mind.

Narcissa shifted a little in her lounge chair, setting her glass to the side. "It is freeing, to be honest, not having Lucius watching my every move anymore. I'll act like I'm mourning for a time, for propriety sakes, but you and I both know I won't actually be mourning too much. Lucius was a friend, not the love of my life." At this, she sounded somewhat wistful.

"You sound like you've been there." Harry broached the topic carefully and neutrally.

Narcissa's smile turned, thoughtful and genuinely happy. It wasn't the smile of a Slytherin Princess turned Pureblood Queen. It was the smile that Harry expected someone like Susan and Hannah, or a Gryffindor to have. There wasn't anything hidden behind that smile.

"He was two years younger than me and a perfect gentleman. Oh that man knew my buttons so well. He could make me smile, make me blush, make me angry, and he took it all in stride. His pet name for me when we were alone was 'His Perfect Storm.' I was… furious when I had to break the relationship I had with him. My own personal Golden Boy, and he got taken from me." Narcissa swirled her brandy as she thought back to the years.

"Bold as brass, he got up from the Gryffindor table his fourth year and came over to the Slytherin table to ask me to Hogsmeade that weekend."

"Did you accept?" Harry asked her.

Narcissa gave a full laugh, it sounded like bells ringing. "Of course not!" She said smiling broadly. "I was a sixth year Prefect well into her NEWT years. I had no time for a man, no matter how bold he was, no matter how… absolutely thrilling the idea of dating a Gryffindor was."

She licked her lips. "He held himself like he was untouchable, and I suppose to some extent he was. He had his friends to back him up. They utterly destroyed the Slytherin group that took offense." She smiled a little more, remembering the time that he and his friends dueled, moving and weaving about one another.

A perfect team.

"He came to me, again and again and again, and every time I shot him down. Publically, thoroughly, completely. And yet he never stopped trying. He'd just give me this smile and walk away. Despite the teasing he got from his friends, and the fact I said no every time, he still kept coming back. Kept coming to me.

"But then I saw a side of him that I never expected to see. I saw him with his walls down, I watched him after that. I could see how some of his confidence was forced, some of it from being accepted. He had his own insecurities about things that most students shouldn't have to handle. He was a handsome young man, and there was something thrilling about him. About the impropriety of it."

Narcissa looked up with ice blue eyes that met with emerald green. "My dear aunt's shrieks would have shattered glass if she ever found out I was interested in a half-blood. At the end of sixth year, I gave him his date and it went far better than I could have anticipated. For once, I could let my own walls down. I didn't have to worry about him digging for dirt to use against me."

She remembered that evening fondly. Just a simple dinner outside in the spring air, her Golden Boy aching to learn more about her. And he had been so intelligent, so educated.

"You're blushing." Harry said incredulously. "I didn't know mothers could blush."

Narcissa's smile widened even more. "As I said, he could always make me smile, blush, or angry. Even his memory. I grabbed him by his tie at the end of the date and shoved my tongue in his mouth."

Harry gave a retching sound. "Don't need to hear that!" He said.

Narcissa gave that full laugh once more. "Oh poor boy, you seriously need to thicken your skin to such things. I could tell you things that went on at Hogwarts that would make your head spin, with your Godfather being at the center of it."

Narcissa leaned back with her brandy and finished it off, setting the glass down. It was her fourth for the evening, she didn't need any more. "We first made love Winter of my Seventh year. He was awkward, I was awkward, but there was such… tenderness to it. Just the enjoyment of each other, the love he had for me. Of course, I didn't love him at the time, but I was sweet on him anyways. He ended up a prefect and we both tended to patrol together, regardless of the damned scheduling. After that first time, we'd enjoy each other quite frequently. He wasn't shy, he wasn't afraid."

Narcissa looked off as she turned on the lounge chair and laid her head on the arm rest. Her long blonde hair flowed down towards the floor. "And then he told me his secret, why he was so insecure. And like pieces of a puzzle falling into place, I began to understand things more. Things that always irked me, made me frustrated and angry. But I understood why, why he kept such a thing from me. It's not easy being scared."

She turned her hair to look at Harry who was still sipping the brandy. "I really rocked his world that night. We broke the bed at the Three Broomsticks that night."

Harry made another retching sound. But he stayed. It seemed like Narcissa needed to say all of this, to get it off her chest, and he was going to let her. After having such passion, such love for a person, and then being stuck with Lucius, no doubt she needed the memory session.

"Of course, he's also the one I went to the Led Zepplin concert with. We waited a few months so that he could sneak away from Hogwarts and I could get the portkey."

"Why'd you break it off?" Harry asked. That was what he couldn't understand. If she had been so passionate about the man, why did she break it off? Lucius Malfoy had no doubt been scum at school.

Narcissa inhaled and slowly let it out, heaving a sigh. "My aunt." She sat up and turned to look at Harry, placing her feet upon the marble floor. "She set up the marriage contract for me and Lucius behind Arcturus' back. And she forced me into it, my hands were essentially tied. Either I did it, or she would hurt Andromeda. Please don't tell my sister this, I don't want her to feel like she's responsible for my time with Lucius. It was our Aunt, black-hearted bitch that she was."

"Have you tried to find him again?" Harry asked her.

Narcissa smiled more. "I never lost him. I know exactly where he is. Let me give you a bit of advice before you settle down. Let your wife have access to the money. It will keep your wife happier, knowing she doesn't have to come to you for whatever little trinket she might want. It'll be more difficult to buy things for her of course, but I'm sure you're creative enough that this won't be an issue. It's one of the keys to a long, happy marriage with whatever girl catches your eyes." Narcissa arched a brow as she saw a slight flush to Harry's skin. "There's already someone, isn't there?" She asked teasingly.

Harry cleared his throat. "Uh… I don't know if we're like that." He said.

"I'd be very surprised if you were. You're young, and I'm willing to bet she is too." Narcissa said. "So who's caught the Heir Potter's eyes?"

Harry glanced away for a moment. "Susan Bones." He said simply. "I feel… happy around her. At peace… I feel like I have less to worry about."

Narcissa nodded softly, pleased with the way it sounded. "Good, it's a good basis for a relationship. You'll screw up, but acknowledge that you will and it might be easier to make up with her after a fight. You're both twelve. And best yet, courting the Heiress Bones will keep some of the more hardcore purists at bay while you go about changing things."

Harry nodded softly. "I don't know how serious it will be." He said. They were only twelve after all.

Narcissa smiled. "But back to your earlier statement and where I was going before we got on the tangent, I never lost track of my love. I hired a private investigator, a very discreet one, to just keep tabs on him. Never stalk him or anything, but just… make sure he wasn't in any danger. I never wanted to break his heart, and I had desperately hoped he would have found someone to love."

"He never did, did he?" Harry asked.

Narcissa frowned and shook her head. "No, he didn't."

Harry glanced up as the clock struck nine. He slowly stood up and set the empty glass down beside Narcissa's. "I don't… I don't know much about emotions, or the heart." Harry said slowly. "I'm probably going to write to you quite often while I'm with Susan, trying to figure out the whys and what not. I'm a very logic driven person, and the heart doesn't give two wits about logic.

"But… to me… I would find this man that has your heart still. The way you talk about him, I can tell you still care very much for him. You should do right by yourself. Your aunt can't harm Andromeda now, and Lucius is gone. And Draco will just have to understand that you will have what you want."

Narcissa smiled at Harry's words. "I had already planned on it Harry, but thank you anyways. Chin up and remember, you shouldn't feel guilty about killing Lucius. You did what you had to, let no one else say otherwise. You could have gone about it differently, yes, but the past is behind you and you need to look towards the future." She realized her words might have sounded a tad hypocritical, but she knew the young man in front of her needed to hear that he needed to continue looking forward.

"I look forward, Harry, to seeing the bright future that you are looking to so obviously bring. You are like a mountain, don't let anyone ever bring you down from that position. That's my advice as a former Slytherin. As a mother, my advice is to do what you think is right."

Harry gave a nod to the older woman. He would. He needed to stop wallowing in the death of Lucius Malfoy. He would not toy with his opponents anymore, he would not put innocent lives at risk. But he would not feel bad about Killing Lucius Malfoy.

He was Harry Potter, Scion of the Ancient and Most Noble Houses of Potter and Black. He was the Heir of Slytherin by Rite of Conquest. He was Death, Rider of the Pale Steed Despair and herald of the Apocalypse.

-Scene Break-

Across an ocean of molten rock, over beaches of precious gems, and within a Citadel of metal, glass, and ice, a chained down figure looked up to the blackness above him. Yellow eyes stared out, seeing out into the cosmos of things.

No, it was not yet time.

The Pale Rider had not been pushed to the brink yet, he had not fallen in upon himself and realized his power was not enough. Only then would the Pale Rider Ascend. He would become something more, something more than a little blip upon the grand cosmic radar.

And it was then that he would take over.

"I can bide my time indefinitely, Little Death. You, a rudimentary creature, have touched upon that which you cannot understand. But when you do, when you Ascend past Flesh, past blood and bone, I will be there, and I will consume you."

He knew nothing could hear him. He would not be so lucky to have something to break away from the monotony of an imprisonment between the physical and the spiritual lasting eons. He was nothing more than a fragment of a memory of the Avatar of Destruction.

Ripped apart by the Balance, The Avatar of Destruction had hung on by a shred of existence. And then the Balance banished it to a realm that was neither physical nor spiritual, but something in between. And given the fragment was not either at the moment, he could not interact with anything in the realm. He could not shatter the chains that bound him.

He could not look to bring himself back together and continue his campaign against The King.

He remembered when that tyrant came to his world. He remembered his dearest sister helping him against the King, how they both wounded the King.

But it was still not enough. And the Avatar of Destruction made a conscious decision to not just siphon the power of the Seals of the Apocalypse, but to consume them.

To make the cosmic power that created the seals his.

Of course, the Balance took an exception to that. Not that he blamed the Balance. It was quite a lot of power for one entity.

Not that he'd ever go against the Balance. Creation could not be had without Destruction, Destruction could not be had without Creation. The Cosmos was not some infinite source of power and resources, it was very much limited and the Balance was in charge of recycling that power and resources, over and over again for countless eons.

Worlds were created and worlds were annihilated. It was the way things had always been, the way things were, the way things should always be. No race was above destruction. No entity above giving up their existence and giving their energy back to the cosmos to give birth to another.

Not even the mighty Avatar of Destruction.

So when it would get the chance, and no doubt it would, it would take over the Pale Rider and consume the Seals upon the Earth and usher in the Apocalypse. It would take that power and become more than a fragment of a memory. It did not know everything, it did not remember everything. It was a bare fragment.

But it remembered enough. It knew enough. It knew the Avatar's grand plan, it knew the threat that was the King. An usurper to the Balance that needed to be destroyed for the sake of the Balance to remain.

And undoubtedly, once the King was destroyed, the Avatar of Destruction would be utterly annihilated along with his sister, the Avatar of Creation. And their power would re-enter the cycle of creation and destruction.

And another usurper would rise and the cycle would continue for eons longer.

The fragment of a memory of the Avatar of Destruction looked up to the unending blackness above him once more. The Pale Rider had stumbled on his path, but he had not fallen, he had not fallen so hard he could not rise again.

He was not ready to be taken over.

-END CHAPTER-

A/N: Everything happens for a reason folks. Sorry for the shorter chapter. But we'll get back into the swing of normalish things with the next chapter. Back to Hogwarts where stuff happens.

This is Hunter Berserker Wolf, signing off.