Author's Notes: I'm really sorry that this chapter has taken so long. My
only excuse is that it's been a really difficult chapter to write, since it
explains a lot, and I...well, I don't really like explaining things.
Well, I think it explains a lot. It may not, I have a skewed idea of explanations. You tell me.
Disclaimer: See part one.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Harry slowly opened his eyes and assessed himself. He wasn't in pain, which he realised was a good sign, but he did feel as though he'd been dragged through the barriers backwards.
*Which I suppose I have been,* he mused humourlessly. He pulled himself to a sitting position.
Draco and Rachel were sitting on the end of his bed, glaring at him. Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Problem?" he inquired smoothly.
"How about you just got pulled by the Others - again?" Rachel thundered. "Harry, you better have a damn good explanation for this - and how *exactly* did Nathalie find her way into the *spirit lands* without a *guide* - at her age, she shouldn't even know *how* to get there, and do you have *any* idea how *dangerous* it could have been for her?"
Harry blinked. "I can't explain," he said calmly after a moment. "It's not...it's not mine to explain, Rachel, and even if it was, I don't owe you an explanation." His eyes flickered briefly to Draco, then to Nathalie on her bed. She sat up, and stared demandingly at him. "No, Nathalie, don't even think it."
"I deserve an explanation," Draco said coolly. "I deserve to know what's happening, Harry." His eyes bored into Harry's, and the Necromancer was the first to turn away. "Who are these Others? What are the Spirit Lands? And why do those Others keep on coming after you?"
"Because Papa's in -" Nathalie cut herself off quickly, and buried herself in the blankets on her bed. Harry's face was grim.
"Nathalie," he said warningly. "You promised." A slight movement from beneath the bedclothes was all the answer he received. "Nathalie?"
"I'm not telling," she said loudly. "I'm not!"
"Not telling what?" Draco demanded, exasperated. "Will someone please explain something to me?" Harry was intent on staring at the floor, and Nathalie was still hiding in her bed, so Rachel let out a breath.
"The Others are...sort of dead," she began. "They were never really alive in the first place, so they're not really dead now. They're..." She sighed. "It's complicated," she warned. "And probably goes against everything you've believed up till now."
Draco's eyes were guarded as he glanced swiftly at Harry. "A lot of things I believed have been called into question recently. I think I can take more of the same."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Harry muttered. Rachel shot him a glare, but he refused to look up. "These things," Harry continued. "These things are very.it's nothing that we're ever told about at school, Draco. Nothing like it is ever taught, or told, or passed on by wizards or muggles. Only the Necromancers - and some magical beasts - keep it alive now. Keep it in the world."
He turned away, and didn't say anything more. Draco pursed his lips, and turned demandingly to Rachel, who anxiously glanced between her fellow Necromancers and Draco, before finally nodding.
"Alright," she agreed. "I'll explain." She took a deep breath, and let it out in a rush. "The world was made by four Creators," she began quickly. "The Creator of the Living, the Creator of the Dead, the Creator of the Lands, and lastly the Creator of the Others. They look after what they created, although there are some, uh, complications, that we don't need to go into now." Draco raised a curious eyebrow, but Rachel shook her head firmly. "It's not important for what you want to know," she said emphatically. "The Others are...dammit. Maybe those complications are important after all."
"The Necromancers are the same as the Others," Harry put in harshly. "We are...kindred. When we die - or as close as we get - we become Others. When they...change, although that isn't the right word, they're born into the bodies of Necromancers. We're identical to them, but complete opposites at the same time."
"Only it's a little more complicated than that," Rachel said hastily on Draco's expression. "We're not...they're made of darkness, but we're born of darkness. The difference is...minute, but crucial." Harry snorted. "It means," she continued, with a glare to Harry, "that we don't fall under the jurisdiction of the Creator of the Living. We're sort of...in between the Creator of the Others and the Creator of the Dead. It's a little confusing."
"I'll say," Draco exhaled. "Do these...Creators have names other than, uh the Creator of such and such?"
"Is, Was, Ever and Never," Harry replied softly.
"Weird names," Draco commented.
"Not as weird as Sal'zar and Godric!" Nathalie yelled from beneath her blankets. Harry grinned suddenly.
"No, not as weird as them," he agreed. "Cherie, are you going to come out from there?"
"No!"
Harry shrugged. "Your choice." He looked back at Draco. "That answer your questions?"
"Some," Draco responded, a little curtly. "But not all. You still haven't told me why the Others are after you and Nathalie." Harry suddenly found something very fascinating to look at on the bedcovers. Nathalie sat up suddenly and stared hard at him. Rachel looked curiously at Harry.
"I assumed it's because you're Necromancers," she said slowly. "But if that was the case...if that was why they're after you, they'd be after me, and Celeste, and Mika, and Toby, and all the others. They wouldn't just come after you...not twice, not in this time span, and certainly not when you're with two other powerful Necromancers. So. What's going on, Harry?" Harry was silent, and Rachel's eyes flashed angrily. "Harry!"
"Oh, I'll tell you what's going on." Godric Gryffindor appeared between the two beds, looking furious. Harry grimaced. "Harry Potter - this Harry Potter, the one who was Sorted into *my house* at Hogwarts, has been having an affair with Never for over five years now!"
Nathalie let out a shriek, and dove beneath the covers again. Draco was still staring at Harry demandingly, unaware of the spirit's presence. Rachel had gone completely white.
Harry stood up, more angry than he had been since...since he had killed Voldemort.
"Get out of here, Godric," he shouted. "You - you had no right whatsoever to say that. Do you have any idea the things that could happen if people know about it?"
"So he's telling the truth?" Rachel breathed. "Black Gods of Death, Harry...how could you? Did you have any comprehension of the dangers - the consequences of your actions? Did he?"
Harry turned on her. "Of course," he snapped. "I'm no idiot, and neither is Never. And it's not he, it's 'it', you know that."
"I can't believe you're quibbling over that," Godric put in scornfully. "Harry, no matter what gender you give - it, you have been sleeping with a Creator, and that is how the Others have grown in power as they have. It is your fault."
Harry suddenly seemed to shrink. "Don't you think I know that?" he demanded. "Don't you think I've been killing myself over that ever since I found out about what the Others are doing? Don't try to make me feel more guilty than I already am, Godric, because you sure as hell won't succeed."
"I should think not," Rachel said forcefully. "Harry, you're a complete idiot. Did it not occur to you that perhaps the reason you've had to run so much is because you've been using so much Necro-magic to see Never that where you are is perfectly *obvious* to anyone with half a brain cell?"
"Of course," Harry muttered. "Of course it did, but I..."
"But you couldn't do without Never, and he wouldn't do without you," Godric said cuttingly.
"Go away!" Harry snapped, lifting his hand, palm towards the spirit. "Go away, Godric." With a startled look, the spirit disappeared promptly. He turned to Rachel. "Rachel..."
She held up a hand. "No, Harry. I can't talk to you about this." She looked grim, and Harry's eyes widened fractionally as he realised what she was about to say. She took a breath. "I'm calling a hearing of the Necromancers," she informed him. "In the Hall. Two days."
"Rachel..."
"No, Harry," Rachel snapped. "I can't talk to you until then." She rose, and stalked from the room. Nathalie extricated herself from her blankets and padded over to sit next to Harry, watching him anxiously.
"Papa...Papa, it won't be so bad," she comforted him. "They don't know anything 'bout you and Never."
"They will," Harry moaned. "Oh, they will, they will. Oh, what have I done, cherie?" Nathalie sucked her finger worriedly, then curled up in his lap, one arm entwined in his, trying to comfort him. Tears slid done his face.
Draco, still sitting on the end of the bed, blinked several times. "Would anyone mind telling me just exactly what happened?" he inquired.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
To be continued.
Well, I think it explains a lot. It may not, I have a skewed idea of explanations. You tell me.
Disclaimer: See part one.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Harry slowly opened his eyes and assessed himself. He wasn't in pain, which he realised was a good sign, but he did feel as though he'd been dragged through the barriers backwards.
*Which I suppose I have been,* he mused humourlessly. He pulled himself to a sitting position.
Draco and Rachel were sitting on the end of his bed, glaring at him. Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Problem?" he inquired smoothly.
"How about you just got pulled by the Others - again?" Rachel thundered. "Harry, you better have a damn good explanation for this - and how *exactly* did Nathalie find her way into the *spirit lands* without a *guide* - at her age, she shouldn't even know *how* to get there, and do you have *any* idea how *dangerous* it could have been for her?"
Harry blinked. "I can't explain," he said calmly after a moment. "It's not...it's not mine to explain, Rachel, and even if it was, I don't owe you an explanation." His eyes flickered briefly to Draco, then to Nathalie on her bed. She sat up, and stared demandingly at him. "No, Nathalie, don't even think it."
"I deserve an explanation," Draco said coolly. "I deserve to know what's happening, Harry." His eyes bored into Harry's, and the Necromancer was the first to turn away. "Who are these Others? What are the Spirit Lands? And why do those Others keep on coming after you?"
"Because Papa's in -" Nathalie cut herself off quickly, and buried herself in the blankets on her bed. Harry's face was grim.
"Nathalie," he said warningly. "You promised." A slight movement from beneath the bedclothes was all the answer he received. "Nathalie?"
"I'm not telling," she said loudly. "I'm not!"
"Not telling what?" Draco demanded, exasperated. "Will someone please explain something to me?" Harry was intent on staring at the floor, and Nathalie was still hiding in her bed, so Rachel let out a breath.
"The Others are...sort of dead," she began. "They were never really alive in the first place, so they're not really dead now. They're..." She sighed. "It's complicated," she warned. "And probably goes against everything you've believed up till now."
Draco's eyes were guarded as he glanced swiftly at Harry. "A lot of things I believed have been called into question recently. I think I can take more of the same."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Harry muttered. Rachel shot him a glare, but he refused to look up. "These things," Harry continued. "These things are very.it's nothing that we're ever told about at school, Draco. Nothing like it is ever taught, or told, or passed on by wizards or muggles. Only the Necromancers - and some magical beasts - keep it alive now. Keep it in the world."
He turned away, and didn't say anything more. Draco pursed his lips, and turned demandingly to Rachel, who anxiously glanced between her fellow Necromancers and Draco, before finally nodding.
"Alright," she agreed. "I'll explain." She took a deep breath, and let it out in a rush. "The world was made by four Creators," she began quickly. "The Creator of the Living, the Creator of the Dead, the Creator of the Lands, and lastly the Creator of the Others. They look after what they created, although there are some, uh, complications, that we don't need to go into now." Draco raised a curious eyebrow, but Rachel shook her head firmly. "It's not important for what you want to know," she said emphatically. "The Others are...dammit. Maybe those complications are important after all."
"The Necromancers are the same as the Others," Harry put in harshly. "We are...kindred. When we die - or as close as we get - we become Others. When they...change, although that isn't the right word, they're born into the bodies of Necromancers. We're identical to them, but complete opposites at the same time."
"Only it's a little more complicated than that," Rachel said hastily on Draco's expression. "We're not...they're made of darkness, but we're born of darkness. The difference is...minute, but crucial." Harry snorted. "It means," she continued, with a glare to Harry, "that we don't fall under the jurisdiction of the Creator of the Living. We're sort of...in between the Creator of the Others and the Creator of the Dead. It's a little confusing."
"I'll say," Draco exhaled. "Do these...Creators have names other than, uh the Creator of such and such?"
"Is, Was, Ever and Never," Harry replied softly.
"Weird names," Draco commented.
"Not as weird as Sal'zar and Godric!" Nathalie yelled from beneath her blankets. Harry grinned suddenly.
"No, not as weird as them," he agreed. "Cherie, are you going to come out from there?"
"No!"
Harry shrugged. "Your choice." He looked back at Draco. "That answer your questions?"
"Some," Draco responded, a little curtly. "But not all. You still haven't told me why the Others are after you and Nathalie." Harry suddenly found something very fascinating to look at on the bedcovers. Nathalie sat up suddenly and stared hard at him. Rachel looked curiously at Harry.
"I assumed it's because you're Necromancers," she said slowly. "But if that was the case...if that was why they're after you, they'd be after me, and Celeste, and Mika, and Toby, and all the others. They wouldn't just come after you...not twice, not in this time span, and certainly not when you're with two other powerful Necromancers. So. What's going on, Harry?" Harry was silent, and Rachel's eyes flashed angrily. "Harry!"
"Oh, I'll tell you what's going on." Godric Gryffindor appeared between the two beds, looking furious. Harry grimaced. "Harry Potter - this Harry Potter, the one who was Sorted into *my house* at Hogwarts, has been having an affair with Never for over five years now!"
Nathalie let out a shriek, and dove beneath the covers again. Draco was still staring at Harry demandingly, unaware of the spirit's presence. Rachel had gone completely white.
Harry stood up, more angry than he had been since...since he had killed Voldemort.
"Get out of here, Godric," he shouted. "You - you had no right whatsoever to say that. Do you have any idea the things that could happen if people know about it?"
"So he's telling the truth?" Rachel breathed. "Black Gods of Death, Harry...how could you? Did you have any comprehension of the dangers - the consequences of your actions? Did he?"
Harry turned on her. "Of course," he snapped. "I'm no idiot, and neither is Never. And it's not he, it's 'it', you know that."
"I can't believe you're quibbling over that," Godric put in scornfully. "Harry, no matter what gender you give - it, you have been sleeping with a Creator, and that is how the Others have grown in power as they have. It is your fault."
Harry suddenly seemed to shrink. "Don't you think I know that?" he demanded. "Don't you think I've been killing myself over that ever since I found out about what the Others are doing? Don't try to make me feel more guilty than I already am, Godric, because you sure as hell won't succeed."
"I should think not," Rachel said forcefully. "Harry, you're a complete idiot. Did it not occur to you that perhaps the reason you've had to run so much is because you've been using so much Necro-magic to see Never that where you are is perfectly *obvious* to anyone with half a brain cell?"
"Of course," Harry muttered. "Of course it did, but I..."
"But you couldn't do without Never, and he wouldn't do without you," Godric said cuttingly.
"Go away!" Harry snapped, lifting his hand, palm towards the spirit. "Go away, Godric." With a startled look, the spirit disappeared promptly. He turned to Rachel. "Rachel..."
She held up a hand. "No, Harry. I can't talk to you about this." She looked grim, and Harry's eyes widened fractionally as he realised what she was about to say. She took a breath. "I'm calling a hearing of the Necromancers," she informed him. "In the Hall. Two days."
"Rachel..."
"No, Harry," Rachel snapped. "I can't talk to you until then." She rose, and stalked from the room. Nathalie extricated herself from her blankets and padded over to sit next to Harry, watching him anxiously.
"Papa...Papa, it won't be so bad," she comforted him. "They don't know anything 'bout you and Never."
"They will," Harry moaned. "Oh, they will, they will. Oh, what have I done, cherie?" Nathalie sucked her finger worriedly, then curled up in his lap, one arm entwined in his, trying to comfort him. Tears slid done his face.
Draco, still sitting on the end of the bed, blinked several times. "Would anyone mind telling me just exactly what happened?" he inquired.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
To be continued.