Harry's body felt unnaturally heavy that morning. Take the trouble of getting punted into another universe where people just look at you normally, talk to you normally, and expect you to be normal. All to end up in some temple getting suckered into another prophecy. It was just his luck, wasn't it?

The offending sword stood unceremoniously against a chair in the room. He grunted and turned over in his bed. Initially he hadn't even wanted to take it back, but a whole crowd of – what, followers? – had made that as impossible as flying a broom in a hailstorm. Also Hermione had told him just to go along with it, that it would blow over and they would leave anyway.

Harry knew better. The rumour would spread like wildfire. And worse, it was like he had just remembered he didn't put on pants in the morning. Yes, he had healed Hermione. Yes, he had a deity who had hand-picked him for some mysterious purpose. And more, like his eyesight being fixed and getting really uncomfortable when in the presence of people like Clayton.

He didn't like it one bit, in fact, he was fairly depressed. That hadn't happened in a long time. And adding insult to injury, Ginny still was running around trying to get ready for their departure. He grunted again and blearily trudged over to the water basin to clean his face. Luckily he'd shaved yesterday so he wouldn't have to put in that particular bit of effort.

Chosen One Harry made his way down the stairs to get some breakfast and do his daily duty at the Temple of the Galloping Mongoose. Grotnug had a grin on his predatory face.

"Mornin' Chosen One," he said.

Harry groaned. "Can I please not do service today?"

"Nah, ya have to. 'S already a line outside."

"Bloody hell, really?"

"Ye," Grotnug answered with a chuckle. "Also ye owe me fer having to look fer a new help."

"I never asked for this."

Grotnug wasn't kidding. As soon as he opened, a veritable crowd of curious lookie-loos from all walks of life had decided to take their breakfast at the tavern. It was just like the aftermath of the war again, except this time he was serving food and drinks instead of having them. Two hours of waiting tables had him completely drained, having to answer all the insane questions coming his way.

He wasn't entirely sure who he wanted to appear to save him from his predicament, but regardless as the morning rush ended, Lady Cara Hestius entered the inn and very carefully looked him over. She turned her head to the kitchen, where Grotnug was tasting broth from a large pot.

"Grotnug, I will be taking Harry from you for a moment."

Grotnug hummed. "Jes get im back before lunch."

Harry noted Grotnug didn't threaten to break her legs, renewing his respect for the Captain of the Guard.

"I'm not getting arrested, am I?" Harry said as he followed her east.

"No," she said with a smile. "I'll be inviting you to my home for a short visit."

Harry's neck heated up. Granted, she was pretty, but he was married. Perhaps Hermione had been right, and this nobility business was a lot more sordid than it seemed to be. But god knows what would happen if he refused her, maybe she had guards ready to threaten the lives of his friends. Surely Ginny would understand.

"I've heard you'll be leaving soon," she said.

"Er, right."

"My father was a Cleric of Licht. Not many still pay proper respects to the God of Light, especially in Cadmeum."

Harry nodded along.

"So you see it was quite a shock when Father Petri told me what happened at the Solstice."

Inside the noble district's opulent residential area, they stopped at a manor surrounded by a large garden. A few servants were working, carrying things to and fro and tending to the hedges and flowers. He followed into the entrance, polished marble and tasteful carpets and drapes decorating the large hall lined with intricate gleaming columns. Definitely more style than the pureblood aesthetic.

A servant approached and helped Lady Hestius out of her bracers, mail and shin guards. They moved into a parlour and she offered him what she said was elven wine. He sipped from it, smiling awkwardly. Maybe he could still talk his way out of this. Did this world have venereal diseases?

"I don't like tooting my horn too much, but I take pride in the fact I always judged you to be a fine young man," she said, crossing her legs. The light robe she wore didn't really leave much up to the imagination. "But nothing is coincidence in this world. You ended up here by the grace of Licht. Tell me, do you know the significance of being chosen?"

As far as foreplay went, this was a strange way to start things off, but he kept that to himself. "I'm still not sure what happened, or how."

A servant came in with a large leather-bound tome and opened it on the table between them, making Harry question his earlier assumptions.

"In 641 of the current era, a little over three hundred years ago, a Paladin named Hector Lightbringer came from the east. I've been trying to get my hands on accounts of his life, but with barely any trade passing through the land routes and how difficult it is to reach, whatever happened in the Kingdom of Praxia at that time remains a mystery to me."

Harry nodded, thinking if Professor Binns had legs like that he might have remembered anything at all from his history lessons.

"All we know is he settled to retire in Cadmeum, back then known as the Three River City, and built the temple that stands here today. But more to the point, he left behind a prophetic message for us to contemplate."

Harry sighed. "I'm really not a fan of that."

"Do you want to hear it?"

Harry felt like he needed to get paid to listen to this. Really, why did he keep doing these things for free? Against his better judgement, he slowly nodded. "Yes, fine."

Lady Hestius smiled. "It says a great evil would be set upon the region where three rivers converge, and that an unlikely hero chosen by Licht will act to unite the people against it, and destroy its otherworldy leader."

No mention of him dying, so at least that was an improvement. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with that, even if I knew what it meant."

She took a sip of wine and traced a finger on her lips, deep in thought. "There have been a few writings on the prophecy, some said it referred to the Troll Wars and the mention of Licht was misinterpreted, simply being 'divine light'. I never took that reading very seriously. Father Matteus, the first priest of the temple kept a diary where he gave his own insights.

"According to him, the temple was built as a beacon for Hector Lightbringer's successor. He also puts much emphasis on the word 'otherworldy', which could refer to divine, demonic, or extraplanar threats. The prophecy would act as a divine mechanism to defend against this danger. I think with yesterday's happenings, we can say that at least the statue carved there was required to be holding the sword. Usually Licht is portrayed with a staff, or sceptre, depicting justice of the rulers under Licht's guidance."

She got up and with hands on his shoulders, motioned him to do the same. "The news of your departure can only mean the prophecy is carrying you somewhere, and I fear for the dangers you'll encounter on your journeys. Come, there's something I wish to show you."

They went up to a room with portraits and a mannequin at the end. At her command, a servant removed the garment of chain from it and presented it to Harry.

"What is it?"

"It is both my family's greatest treasure, and something of no value in my hands. Magical chain, exceptionally light. Belonged to my father, and his father before that. I want you to use it."

Harry let out a deep breath. He knew that feeling: an unquenchable drive telling him to act now. Had he been hypocritical in chiding his Aurors for getting complacent? Here he was in a bad situation with no way home and he was turning away the first bit of guidance he had encountered, and from a God no less.

But still, he was doubtful. "How do you know I won't just act in my own self-interest? I'm just a stranger who came here a few months ago, and what, now I'm a saviour?"

"You were chosen by Licht," Lady Hestius said with a frown. "It means the Divine itself believes you will act for good. Am I wrong, thinking that you would act to help those in need given the chance?"

It sounded like a familiar accusation. "I don't want to make that promise."

"I think you already have," she said, grinning, "if not to others, then to yourself."

The servant made him hold out his arms to try the chain coat.

"Perfect fit," said Lady Hestius.

"What are the odds?"

They didn't have much trouble preparing to leave. News of 'Paladin Harry', a marked improvement on 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' – not that he would tell anyone – had made its way around the city. Malfoy had warned them that the Magistrate was starting to take notice of what had happened, but was keeping his distance for now.

The stares and whispers and calls for Harry to bless random people on the street continued. Hermione having gone through the whole debacle once before, coached him through the worst of it.

Three days after the fateful Solstice Festival, Harry spotted a familiar face at the market.

"Eustace?" Harry called out.

He looked up from the food stall. "Harry. How are you?"

"Fine, have you been in town for long?"

Eustace shook his head and paid for his meat pie. "We came in two days ago. We just heard of what happened at the Solstice Festival. Crazy, isn't it?"

"Er, yeah," Harry replied nervously.

Looking around, Eustace slowly started to notice the glances and smiles Harry was getting. His jaw dropped. "Paladin… Harry?"

"Let's go have a drink."

Over Grotnug's strong but painfully average ale, Harry explained to him what had happened, and that they were leaving. Eustace by the end of it just shook his head. "Sounds like a busy week for you."

Harry laughed. "Oh, you have no idea."

"But..." Eustace started. "This might be good timing. We were hesitating going on the Leptor route this summer. We heard some rumours while we were north, the usual stuff, traders tipping us off that the road was… not quite safe. But if you're going anyway, I don't see why we would pass up the offer."

"Look," Harry said, trying to reel Eustace back in, "I'm no warrior. I barely learned how to hold a sword. If the road's not safe –"

"We'd probably go anyway. Fort Tide has increased tariffs, and the northern cities are pretty much insular until the harvest. Cider, that's where the money is at. Could keep us afloat until next spring. Yeah, it's that big. And we don't really have a choice." He smiled smugly. "Neilis finally got married, just yesterday, at knifepoint, but still."

"How did that happen?"

"That girl he was hiding that everyone knew about? Pregnant."

"That's one way to do it," Harry said with a smirk.

"Yeah, anyway since it was a forced affair it's us who have to pay the dowry. I swear I've never seen his father so angry. The man was an outrider in his younger years, and he hasn't forgotten how to throw a punch."

Harry thought about it for a second. He didn't think the addition of the four of them would add much to security, but going west with friendly faces was an interesting proposition.

"Yes, I don't see why we wouldn't. I'll have to talk to them, but consider it done. I don't think I'd trust anyone else offering a free ride, you know with the 'Paladin' thing."

And so it was agreed, mostly. Eustace gave Harry a few helpful pointers for living on the road. If he had anything to write with he would have written it down. Their getup was improved in the following days of shopping, Ginny trading flax for cotton and leather and all of them finding something decent as walking shoes. Bed rolls, camping tools, a small tent.

They all got weapons, even if Harry was certain Malfoy would be useless handling his large mace. One afternoon, they got together outside the city. Harry was ready to provide Hermione with some tips for handling her new dagger, even if he dreaded her getting to use it. But apparently Ginny knew how to use one better than him, proven by how she threw one smack-dab into a tree at thirty feet. Sometimes he wondered if he truly knew his wife.

The morning six days after the Solstice Festival, they met up with John's extended family outside Grainsbarrow. The cart had been upgraded with a real horse, an investment on this all-or-nothing trading run to Leptor. They chatted for a while, and Harry's new suit of mail raised a few questions.

"How did you get that?" Ginny asked. "Don't tell me you got it for free."

"Lady Hestius," Harry said with a sigh.

"The Captain of the Guard?" Neilis asked incredulously.

"Yes," Harry replied, "she's actually a really nice person if you ignore how we first met. She seemed very knowledgeable about the history around the temple, what happened at the Solstice was a big deal to her."

"You'll have to reveal your secret to me about attracting the noble ladies," Eustace said with a wink.

"Step one: be good looking. You already fail on that count, big brother," Ebert answered.

Harry laughed and could see the annoyance in Ginny's eyes. Hopefully this might be another reason for her to want to work things out soon.

"All right, good folks," John said mounting the cart. "Let's get on the road. We have three days to High Coren and three more to get to the edge of Leptor."

They set off. Good travelling rules meant two in the front, two in the back and two on the sides. The rest could ride the cart for now since they hadn't risked any trade on the way there. Fairly soon it became obvious that Hermione was using the cart ride to do some reading with a book she'd taken with her, so he gave up his break time.

On the second day they passed the forest and instead continued south, on a winding path leading into the hills. Whenever him and Ginny would lead up the front, they would talk about the more mundane things of home. Quidditch, Bill's runt, one of the many shenanigans involving two brothers and a joke shop. It wasn't unpleasant, but not cutting to what they really wanted to discuss.

Their second evening they settled into their bedrolls, they were both turned towards each other in the dim light of the fire in the middle of the camp.

"You're still avoiding me."

She sighed and put both hands on his chest.

"And you know what I mean," he continued. "Yeah, we talk, but you haven't really talked since our first night in the Galloping Mongoose."

He put one hand under her chin and lifter her head, making his heart jump at her perfect freckled nose.

"You know I miss them too, right?" said Harry.

Looking into her eyes, he felt the emptiness he'd been trying to hide tug at him. No, it wasn't easy. Yes, they had built their relationship on the people around them, and among them. He rested his forehead against hers. "I can listen."

She laughed, sniffing through her nose. "Aren't we both being very mature right now."

He smiled, kissing her cheek, tasting salt on her soft skin.

"I miss them so much," she said. "My parents, the girls – Gwen, Cassie, Bill, George, Charlie… Luna."

He cradled her body with his, holding her tightly. If he were less scrupulous, he would tell her all the lies she needed to hear. But he couldn't do that, she knew that as well as him. Was it – were they enough to keep things going? He had to believe so.

"Love you, Gin."

"I love you too, Harry," she answered, almost apologetically.

Mornings in the hills were much colder than down in the plains. Everyone sat huddled around the fire waiting for the fog to clear. The rations were simple, mostly dried fruits and some bread, plus the cask of ale the cart was carrying, or in this case for mornings an infusion of dried herbs. Malfoy sat with his back to the fire, mumbling something while holding his holy symbol. Everyone had a different way to cope, it seemed.

High Coren wasn't much to look at. Sheep herders, sheep herders, and more sheep herders, all leading to the centre of the ramshackle town where there wasn't much but a few wooden structures and a tall building of clay used to store grain. Not even a tavern or inn to relax at.

Neilis stretched his back. "So darn stiff with all this walking."

"Fancy some sparring?" Harry asked.

Neilis nodded and threw him one of the practice swords they clobbered together during the trip. Not ideal, but better than nothing. Harry wouldn't have minded using normal weapons, being used to facing Silvian's swordpoint.

As they squared off near the warehouses, a few curious shepherds and children massed around. This, he could get behind; just like being on the quidditch pitch. He steadily gripped his sword and took a low, agile stance, ready to look for Neilis' attack.

It's true that he had training. All the basics of keeping your sword arm raised, quick attack and retreat, it was there. What wasn't there were all the other things he'd learned from Silvian. Harry never had anything to compare with, but now he realized that when Eustace and Ebert were laughing they might have had a point. Neilis was no fighter, but a militiaman.

Cries of encouragement came from the crowd as he spun his sword to deflect Neilis' blow. Soon every thread-spinning man, wife and child who had heard the noise had gathered around them. As he lunged into his opponent's overreach, he got in a hit to the shoulder, making him stumble. Spinning his sword with a smirk, he spotted Hermione out of the corner of his eye. She had that familiar face of worry and excitement that he'd grown used to see flying for the Gryffindor team. He couldn't hold back a laugh.

With every exchange the crowd cheered. Whenever Neilis would think he could come in close, he dodged or used his shoulder to glance the sword off him. The spectacle had him in a playful mood.

A few minutes later, Neilis having taken one too many blows to the thigh, called it quits. The crowd let out a sigh of disappointment, but both Ebert and Eustace had a devious look in their eyes.

"Think you can take two?" Ebert asked.

Harry shrugged and got back into place. Even with his back to her, he could feel Hermione's disapproving frown. But he was too worked up and cocky to let the opportunity slide. Maybe, just maybe, he hadn't been entirely honest when he said he didn't miss being an Auror.

The crowd cheered again, but he felt even more incensed when he heard Ginny shout "Get 'em!"

It became clear very quickly that while they didn't have formal training, they knew how to fight. Feints, from one to the other, keeping Harry on guard. He was reminded of the recapture of the Carrow siblings: in tune, rough and driven. Even a jab to the chest didn't keep them occupied for long. Right back on him, cornering him from two sides. The brothers fought with an intuition not easily acquired.

Above all, it was exciting. Harry had always been one for pushing the limits of his abilities. Right into the thick of dark wizard hunting weeks after Voldemort's defeat. It had been stupid how he'd fit himself into this world as a hapless helper for the Galloping Mongoose. This was what he was born to do. Fight. Look at the point of a sword and see it whizzing by at the last moment. Dodge, counter in the ribs.

Eustace huffed at the strike, but the other brother got a hit in on his right arm. Painful and throbbing. Ebert came forward, and in an instant, he was on the second one. A swipe to the abdomen sent the older brother tumbling. The other swung, and with a flourish Harry dismantled the practice sword from his wrist, resting the wooden blade of his against his throat.

Waves upon waves of the crowd's cheering crashed on him. He took a deep breath and lowered his improvised weapon, slinging an arm around Ebert. Eustace, dramatically grunting, joined them. They bowed, and the onlookers clapped, laughter overtaking the quaint village.

He'd almost forgotten what that felt like. He slowly walked over to Ginny and lifted her up into his arms, kissing her deeply.

"Get a bloody room," Malfoy complained.

"See any around?" Harry said with a smirk.

"What was that you said before? That you didn't want to attract any attention?" Hermione said smugly.

"I think we both understood I wanted to dodge the responsibility," he said. "Haven't given that up by the way."

"You'll have to teach me some of those tricks," Ebert said, coming over. "Granted I didn't expect to hold out against a bloody Paladin, but..."

Harry winced as a few curious listeners mumbled in surprise.

"Ah, sorry, I thought –"

"It's fine," Harry said dismissively. "But I'd rather not everyone knows next time we enter town."

"Then maybe next time try to not make such a show of it," Hermione said teasingly.

"Oh, you're no fun," Ginny said. "I thought it was brilliant."

"I guess I got rather caught up in the moment," said Harry.

A man about Harry's age had pushed himself through the crowd. He looked nervous and tired. Harry rested his hand on the silver bastard sword at his side.

"Excuse me, sir – ah, Paladin Harry, is it?"

Harry removed his grip on Ginny and turned towards the man. "Yes, er, but if you could keep that quiet if possible..."

"Of course! Of course, it's..." The man pressed his eyes closed and took a deep breath. "My child is sick," he said abruptly.

Harry might not have that context, knowing what a paternal relationship was like, but he had seen enough second hand that he understood the man was in pain. He nodded. "What's wrong with him?"

"We – uh – we don't know. The healer in town told us he couldn't help, barely brought down the fever. If you could –"

"I'll come with you," he said, looking to Ginny who smiled in return. "Be right back."

The man led him to a hut with a straw roof on the edge of town. It was barely shelter, and the cries of a small child could be heard from inside. The space was a bit claustrophobic. A table, no chairs and two cots, one smaller than the other. On it lay a child about four years of age, and a woman bent over him, her curly black hair unkempt while she whispered to the child.

"Celia, Honey, I've brought someone who can help."

"I don't want to bring your hopes up," Harry said defensively, "I have no idea I'll be able to do anything."

The woman looked up with red eyes. "Who is he?"

She turned to him with pleading eyes smacking of desperation. "Can you help our boy?"

"He's..." The man swallowed. "The man is a Paladin, best sword arm I've ever laid eyes on. Tell us, kind stranger, what god should we praise for your arrival?"

Harry ignored the comment and knelt beside the child. When he had his revelation, he had become aware of his powers. Father Petri had explained some of it: heal the sick and wounded, root out evil, have your blade be guided by Licht. Feeling extremely silly, he placed a hand on the burning forehead of the small boy, who whined and cried through his fever. Remembering his first fight in the forest, he asked again to heal the boy. Perhaps it was like a prayer.

He felt a refreshing coolness pass through his fingers and on the boy's head. The child stopped whining and his face turned from flushed red to healthy pink. It was a bit surreal. The boy opened his eyes slowly.

"Mom?"

The mother started crying.

"Mom? Dad? I'm thirsty."

The man immediately went over to a pitcher and filled a cup. After a drink he seemed fine.

"What is your name, sir?" The mother said with great reverence. "My name is Celia, and this is my husband, Fred, and our son, Danny."

"Harry," he responded. "Pleased to meet you."

The husband knelt before Harry, and thanked him profusely.

"Please, get up," said Harry uncomfortably.

"Paladin Harry, anything we can do for you, anything at all," he said, taking a pouch at his side. "We don't have much but you are welcome to everything."

"That's not necessary," he said, taking a step back. "Really, I don't want your money. I'm sure you'll need it with your son in good health. I wasn't even sure it would work."

The man ended up breaking in a cask of strong apple cider he had in his house and offering Harry a large mug. This was more the kind of gratitude he could get behind. When he got outside though, the people that had gathered looked on in anticipation.

"Danny is healed!" Fred declared, holding the boy in his arms.

They all let out cries of joy. That's how it always started, 'Go Harry!', 'Chosen One!', but then later would come the dark wizards and unscrupulous politicians. He wondered how long it would be before he was standing in front of the local equivalent of Fudge to be coerced into legitimizing the useless git. He drunk deeply from his cider, almost hoping that the letter was a dead end and they could return to Cadmeum.

There was a party of course, welcoming 'Paladin Harry' and his friends. Luckily the small village didn't have any other emergencies to drop on him. Truthfully the attention he was getting since his out of the blue messiah status was reminding him how back home he always lived surrounded by that familiar blanket of stress. And in his daily life he would leave that behind at home, with friends, or even chatting with his Auror buddies over a pint. There was no such thing as home here.

They drank way too much, save for Malfoy who seemed to have taken a vow of moderate drinking, and crashed in the barn of some herder who was only too happy to oblige. Bleary-eyed, they woke up with straw in their hair. Hermione looked like she was auditioning for the scarecrow part in The Wizard of Oz.

The cart was made ready again and they continued north-westwards into the hills. The vegetation became more sparse and varied up here, high grasses and old looking trees littering the landscape. Rocky outcroppings could be seen in some places where the soil couldn't hold life. Mountains, in the distance, but not as large as the one they saw on their first journey. Things seemed much more still in this part of the lands. During the day it was hard even to spot a bird.

Malfoy was walking beside him, mostly because he was too poor a conversationalist to entertain anyone else. And Harry still wasn't sure about him. He didn't quite believe in the religious conversion of Draco Malfoy, the chicken shit Death Eater wannabe.

"This place feels different," Harry said.

Malfoy looked up and around for a moment. "Perhaps. What, is that one of your new skills?" he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Wow, you really did take Snape as your role model didn't you?" Harry retorted with a deadpan look. "He didn't have many friends either."

His eyebrow twitched in response, but his features turned to what Harry could only guess was sadness.

"Yes. Being friendly is not my strong suit. But the Order has given me a chance to change that."

Harry rolled his eyes. "And what, your newfound God is to wipe away all your sins?"

"I don't need validation from you," he snorted. "That's not why I'm doing this."

But in a sense Harry was looking for Malfoy to gain his respect. The road stretched on many miles, and if the letter led to nothing it would stretch for many more miles, to god knows where. If he was genuine and trustworthy, it might be worth it to make sure. After all, despite John's family being quite friendly, they did not understand – and would never understand – what the four of them were trying to accomplish.

They stopped for the night next to one of the many springs that fed the river downhill. Even with the region being so much more barren, fresh, clean water was something he didn't know he had missed so much. Crickets chirped as the sun set.

Harry didn't usually have many nightmares, chalk it up to having excellent coping mechanisms or being desensitized to some things. But he had one recurring one of being awoken in the middle of the night, sometimes by Ron, but usually by Hermione with a look of terror in her eyes. He would scramble to get up and go for his wand. But there was no wand, and he quickly realized there was no tent either. He wasn't having a nightmare.

"Something's out there," she said, and went to wake Ginny as well.

He put on his mail in great hurry and picked up his silver bastard sword and shield. A great crack echoed through the hills. John had woken up Neilis and the others. Everyone was scrambling to get geared up for whatever was lurking out there. Harry helped Ginny with the clasps of her leather jacket while she fumbled with her new belt of knives. Malfoy gripped his mace and stepped closer to the fire.

"What is it?" Harry hissed at the rattled group.

"No idea, but it's big," Neilis replied nervously.

Crack!

It was closer now, dragging, hard to pinpoint in the echoey hills.

"Can we run?" Hermione asked.

"Leave everything behind? In the dead of night?" Neilis answered.

Harry grasped his sword more tightly, vaguely aware of Malfoy's whispered prayers.

"– help us in our time of need. Guide our weapons against our foes and grant us the strength to face them. Bless us with thine holy will just as you guide the traveller through turbulent waters."

Like a push in the back, Harry felt his will tempered by the prayer, wondering if he was just imagining it. And as the noise came closer, he felt a second guiding hand steady him, trying to possessively take charge of his safety. Licht, Goddess of Light, had her eyes on him as sure as there was earth beneath his feet.

"Ginny, try –" She was gone already, like a black cat in the night. He cursed inwardly. "Hermione, stay behind us."

A muffled squeal meant she heard him and he felt better hearing her take a few steps back. They all turned in the direction of the approaching noise as it became clearer. A terrible odour of rot and meat reached them before they saw it. A hulking shape dragging two long arms with it in a stumbling gait. It sniffed and its horrific beady eyes reflected the light of the fire.

Large and hunched over, but savage. It charged ahead without restraint. Harry knew instantly when he saw the razor sharp claws that getting out unscathed was unlikely. It was faster than seemed possible. "Back, back!" he shouted.

Ebert barely dodged a haphazardly thrown claw, ending up on the ground. At this rate it would barrel straight through. Harry went forward and to its left leg. His raised shield splintered into a dozen pieces on impact with the monster's other hand. He sliced through the leg, trying to make it stop, but it was as if the blow didn't even register. It just kept going.

Looking back, to his relief they had all scattered, taking position in a circle around the beast. He heard a swish-thunk, and a second. It screamed an unearthly howl as it removed the slung knife from its eye socket. Malfoy took that opening to bring down his mace against the creature's chest. Harry was pleasantly surprised to see it wasn't just for show.

Then things started to fall apart. In a flash Ebert who had stood back up was flung like a doll by a savage swing. Eustace, who saw it happen, jabbed his spear into the creature to seemingly no effect. Its maw bent low and between yellow jagged teeth it snagged Neilis' leg with a wet crunch. His screams of horror filled the night air.

It was now five of them plus a very irrational and probably terrified Eustace.

Luckily he spotted the moment of Ginny's attack, she slid through the shadows like a cat. He let out a great shout and moved forward. His silver sword plunged between bones. He got out just in time. Hope blossomed in his mind seeing it slower than before.

"Move!"

He instantly pulled back and bumped into Malfoy hearing Hermione's voice. She was just standing there, mumbling something. Then blinding light sprouting from a great gout of flame in front of her. The lumbering creature flailed around in pain. The rest of them left standing jumped forward when the spell stopped, assaulting it with everything they had. It crumpled in on itself, the smell of burnt fat and skin filling the air.

Harry looked over to Neilis. He wasn't moving.

"He's breathing!" cried Eustace from where Ebert got flung. "He needs help!"

"Hermione, go see if he'll make it," Harry said to her.

He bent down over Neilis, feeling for a pulse, it was weak. He cut a piece of cloth from Neilis' sleeve and pressed down on the bloody stump waiting for her response.

"I think he'll make it!" she shouted back.

Harry placed both hands on the stump and channelled Licht's warmth through his hands. It knitted over, stopping the bleeding. John had stumbled over to his son, a look of panic in his eyes.

"Can you watch over him?" Harry asked.

He absently nodded, and Harry jogged over to Hermione who was cleaning the wounds in Ebert's chest with a cloth and some water.

"How is it?"

"Broken rib, I think. I'm not a doctor, but his breathing is fine." She looked up from her shaky hands. "Harry, you're bleeding!"

He looked over himself, seeing the stream of blood staining his mail where a few bits of chain were missing. "Look after him first."

Ginny came up next to him with the same sour look on her face he was probably wearing.

Hermione drew in a breath in shock, making them all turn. "I forgot. It… It could still be alive. You need to burn it, all of it. Or it will regenerate."

"It?" Harry asked.

"The troll… that's what that was."

They brought the coals from the fire over the troll's singed corpse, spreading the embers until nothing but charred bone was left. John and Eustace looked over the wounded while Hermione looked over Harry's wound.

Her hands gently cleaned him, using water and a cloth near the spring. She might not be a doctor, but he was very thankful she had once taken an interest in first aid before they set off on a past adventure.

"This really should get some stitching," she said in frustration. "Ebert too, it could get infected."

"I'll heal him tomorrow."

She hummed in interest. "Must be like magic here, tied to diurnal cycles in some way. I'll need some time tomorrow to cram spells."

Her hand was still shaky while she dabbed the cloth on the laceration. He steadied it, waiting for her to look up, noticing the evasiveness in her eyes. "What's the matter?"

"Is that what it was like? Being out in the field all the time?" She lowered her look to his chest. "All I ever saw was whatever new scar you came back with if you couldn't hide it."

"Oh, it's nothing like this. I had a wand back then," he replied with a grin. "Besides, you were there for the worst of it. Really, Hermione, it never got as bad."

"I always wondered why Ron quit," she said, cleaning the cloth. "He must have gotten tired of seeing you try to kill yourself all the time."

"I'm still here, aren't I?" he said defiantly. "You're going to tell me you don't have faith in me now?"

"Don't be silly, Harry. And don't get snappy just because I'm worried."

"So a troll," he said, changing the subject. "I guess we got lucky we didn't face that in first year."

"Yes, I know you don't like the nickname, but I much prefer Boy-Who-Lived over Boy-Who-Didn't."

He laughed.

"But it's strange," she continued. "Norgariel had a collection of creature sightings and trolls weren't listed to appear in this area, they usually like places where they can go into caves during the day."

Her hands still shook after applying a thins strip of gauze to his shoulder. "God, what is wrong with me?"

He put an arm around her as they stood up. "Just jitters, you've had it before. Let's get a drink, I think we need it."

They huddled around the embers of the fire, no one still steady enough to feed it regularly or stand watch for the rest of the night. John probably wouldn't sleep, but they wouldn't survive another encounter like this. Eventually Hermione's shaking stopped and they all felt the crash of having to fight for their lives in the middle of the night. They fell asleep where they were on scattered bedrolls.

In tired silence, is how they started the day. Neilis and Ebert still hadn't woken up, even after Harry healed the younger brother. But stirring and steady breathing meant they were probably all right, Hermione told him.

They went on on their trek. He expected Ginny to join him at the front, but was sorely disappointed when she chose to walk to the side of the cart. That's really all he needed, for her to retreat back from him. He sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry you had to get roped up into this," Eustace said. "And thank you, for saving my brother."

Harry looked back with a frown. "They were the ones who got hurt, and I couldn't do anything about that. By all accounts you should despise me."

"No," Eustace said resolutely. "No, you being here is our blessing. If you hadn't come, we would have died on this road. The Gods chose us, humans. Not goblins, elves, or dwarves. We're still alive because Licht chose you to watch over us. Just like you chose to heal that child."

He wondered how he could even respond to that unshakable conviction, and how could he blame him? In a world this brutal what could you believe in except the gods watching over you? A warm feeling of reassurance came over him, reminding him that they actually were. The divine concern he had experienced lately had the double edged downside of feeling almost maternal. He wasn't quite ready to let someone else fill that hole in him left by his late parents. Gently, the warm feeling receded, making him miss it instantly.

That evening, Ebert woke, immensely relieved that everyone was alive. He put up a brave face at the sight of Neilis, but it was obvious it was a hard pill to swallow. Thankfully that was one more person who could talk with John more intimately, who still looked terrible.

Harry knew the topic of keeping watch would come up, and they were short two men to do it. This was if they counted on John, which they shouldn't.

"Malfoy," he said, nodding his head away from the camp site.

Malfoy hesitantly followed him away from the group. "What?"

"We're going to need you on watch tonight," he said, rubbing his face.

"And?"

"And you're going to have to explain to me your hundred and eighty degree turn to revelation if I'm going to trust you."

"What could I possibly say that would make you trust me?" Malfoy answered angrily. "It's not as if you believed me when I plead for my father!"

"I did believe you. I just didn't think it right to humour the demands of a criminal."

Malfoy had that look about him again as he deflated. "I didn't ask for him. It wasn't even my bloody idea."

Now he was curious, and perhaps somewhat understanding. Lucius Malfoy had been a bane on his family so much that Narcissa had willingly defied his master. As much as he hated what they had done, things were not always so black and white.

"Your mother?" he asked.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Fine then, I was going to get married."

"So who asked you to come to me…"

"My fiancée."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Now things were starting to fall into place. Of course things made sense in the context of him doing it for a woman, Harry could surely empathize with that. He looked back to the red and brown haired girls chatting at the camp. Nothing quite so motivating as wanting to see your loved ones again.

"All right," he said. "Want to take first watch?"

He couldn't completely hide his surprise, but nodded.

On the last day of travel, Neilis awoke, at first in shock, then relief of seeing his father and cousins, then pain and morose silence at the state of his leg. He thanked Harry, but his heart wasn't in it. Not much talking was done on the last stretch of the journey. Everyone was tired from their ordeal and the restless sleep they had.

The City States of Leptor were an alliance of cities throughout the hilly and forested landscape of the west, and the last patch of civilization reachable by foot this far out. Beyond that extended what was known as the 'snake hills', for the way they slithered out to the strait onto the next landmass. You would apparently have to be insane to travel through there, and after what they'd seen Harry believed it.

The city of Oria was embedded into the hills, where trees grew in terraces along it. It was much smaller than Cadmeum but in a way, prettier. The trees and grasses painted a canvas of colours around it that could only be described as idyllic, contrasted by the dark stone and wood of the walless city.

On the road in, they saw a group of men dressed in burgundy robes flanked by armed guards. Malfoy told them they were from the Order of Cadmus and went ahead to greet them. After a short talk, they motioned to go on.

"Priests, like you?" Harry asked.

Malfoy shook his head. "Initiates, they don't do much real preaching."

They seemed to be all around the city, these initiates, acting like the City Guard had in Cadmeum. John pointed out an inn called the Sweetbreeze where they could rest, and keep the cart and horse until they'd finished their business. They found a table for the eight of them, Neilis rubbing his leg as they waited for drinks.

"So are you finally going to tell us your mysterious reason for being here," Neilis said.

Harry, looking over the rest, responded. "We got word of an old friend being here. So we're trying to find him."

"To old friends," Eustace cheered, getting a smirk from Ebert. "Hope we'll one day be included in that."

Harry laughed and they drank. He could only agree with the other's moans of surprise, it tasted delicious. The refreshing, sweet and warm taste of apples.

"You're going to make a bloody fortune off this," said Ginny.

"It is quite good," Hermione added, merrily sipping from it.

John and his family retreated to their rooms rather early, which was good, because they still needed to discuss how to go about doing what they came here for. Also, he wanted to include Malfoy in it. An opportunity to build trust.

"Malfoy," he started once they were alone at a smaller table in the back. "I'm going to tell you why exactly we're here."

Hermione nodded. Ginny sighed, reluctantly agreeing. He told Malfoy about the letter, and how they'd gotten it. Also told him about the nickname and how it related to Sirius Black. Aside from a surprised look at Ginny, he didn't comment much.

"So now we have to try and figure out who Erebus' contact was. Needle in a haystack."

"I'll meet up with the Order in Oria, go see the local temple," Malfoy said. "And obviously I won't reveal what we're looking for."

"I'll do the same with the Merchant's Guild," Ginny offered. "Padfoot sounds like a name you'd encounter running with their crowd, I'll be discreet."

"So where does that leave us?" Harry said, looking at Hermione.

"I suppose you don't want to use your clout as Chosen One to open some doors," Malfoy whispered.

"I feel like that might hurt us more than anything."

Hermione emphatically nodded. "I want to see if there's any wizards in town."

"Also I need a new shield," Harry said. "If there's still enough funds."

"Depends how long we stay," Ginny said with a shrug, "and if there's any jobs to do here."

"I doubt we'll be so lucky to find what we're looking for in the first city in Leptor."

They all grunted in agreement.

So it was decided. Tomorrow, the hunt for Padfoot would commence.