Chapter One

Harry was alone on the streets of London, his glasses fogged up with condensed tears. He felt like he'd spent the last three years in a fog, trapped in his routines. He had just come out of the fog, and seen everything that he was missing -- the excitement of the chase, the feeling of being needed, but most importantly, the friendship of someone that he had let grow distant. And that last had been stolen from him as quickly as he'd found it.

He wasn't sure where he was going, or how far he'd walked, but he knew that it had been several hours. He couldn't believe that he had been so blind twice. First, in seeing into himself, in knowing his own feelings for Hermione. Second, in not seeing how unwelcome his attentions were.

The air was moist, the brisk air of late October making him shiver. He had gotten to a section of town that was old and filled with antique brownstones. An old church steeple poked through the fog ahead of him, white stone dirtied by the air. He took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt, trying to get the condensation off, but he kept walking. He wasn't actually going anywhere, after all, so it hardly mattered if he could see where he was going.

The streets were empty and dark, the few streetlights in this neighborhood hardly penetrating at all. Harry suddenly had the feeling that he was being watched. It was like there was a gaze penetrating him, going right through him. He heard a howl, no doubt a dog that had been locked out of its home. Harry started to run.

He pushed his glasses back on his nose, and broke into a long, fast gait. He hadn't seen anything dangerous, but the complete eeriness of the late night air had gotten to him. There was probably nothing out there. The dog had stopped howling, it had probably gotten into its home. Probably. But he was still running.

The road ended up ahead in a tee. He rounded the corner to the left, and promptly fell to the ground, next to the person who had been running from the other direction before their collision.

Harry waited for a moment before standing. So did the other person. He looked over at her, their eyes meeting in an electric stare that seemed to last a lifetime. It was the fulfillment of a cliché, that look that was meant to be shared across a crowded room.

Harry got to his feet before she did, and quickly moved to offer her a hand up, which she took without question. He was surprised by how tall she was, standing taller than Ron. Her features were delicate, her cheekbones high. Her hair was straight, falling midway down her back like a scarlet waterfall. She was still looking him straight in his eyes as he helped her up, and for a moment longer.

"Hello," they both said at once, then she giggled. Her laugh was like the tinkling of tiny bells.

There was another howl in the distance, but it sounded closer, this time. Harry suddenly had no doubt that he did not want to meet the animal that was sounding its displeasure.

"I need to run," she said, her laughter stopping. Her face looked serious, and the look almost made Harry's heart break, the sudden transfiguration of happiness into solid stone.

"I understand," he said. "I'll come with you."

She nodded slightly, and started running again, in the direction of the other arm of the tee. Harry jogged after her, trying to keep pace, although her longer legs kept her ahead of him. He worried momentarily that he was slowing her down, but he didn't think she'd let that happen.

The fog seemed to grow darker, and the streetlights seemed dimmer than they had a moment ago. Harry tried to ignore that, just running behind the woman. They were both breathing hard, but it was strangely in rhythm, inhaling and exhaling in tandem. Their strides made another rhythm, almost in tune, except for a few extra steps that Harry had to take every so often to catch up. No other sounds seemed to penetrate the night besides their strange, collaborative rhythm.

Ahead, a forest loomed. Harry hadn't realized that there was a forest this close to London, which was probably a hint that he'd spent too much of his time on the streets near his home. The forest was fenced in, but the woman ran straight for the fence. Harry followed her blindly, hoping that she'd change direction suddenly, but instead, she seemed to run straight up the side of the wooden fence.

Harry wished that he had his broom with him, but he didn't have time to summon it. Instead, he whipped out his wand and sprayed a rope up and around one of the fence posts, which he quickly climbed. Somehow, he didn't think he needed to worry about her seeing him do magic.

He came down on the other side, and found her waiting for him, but not alone. A pair of horses were there, as well. They were tall and muscular, with tufts of white fur on each of their legs. There was something about their eyes that Harry found odd, something about the way that their pupils were shaped, almost oblong.

The woman seemed to be taking the time to rest, standing next to one of the horses and running her fingers through its mane. She was whispering softly.

Harry walked up to her casually. "So, I didn't take the time to introduce myself there. I'm sorry about bumping into you like that. My name's Harry," he said, and he stuck his hand out.

She turned to him, accepting his hand, but she didn't shake it. She just held it for a moment, her finger seeming to hit on his pulse, which was sounding loudly in his ears. He could feel hers, as well. He thought that was probably a good sign, given the people that he'd been spending time with lately who didn't have a pulse to speak of.

"I'm Meagan," she said, "Meagan Oibrich Raith, at your service." She bowed her head.

Harry wasn't sure why, but he bowed his, as well. When he looked back up, there was a look of mirth in Meagan's eyes. He wondered what she was seeing in his.

"It's good to meet you, Meagan," Harry said back, "I hope I didn't slow you down too much."

"Not at all," she said back, and Harry realized she was still holding his hand. "It was actually a help, if you can believe it. They keep their distance, if they know you aren't alone."

"Who does?"

"The ones who were hunting, tonight," she said, and Harry knew that she meant the ones that were hunting her. He gently moved his hand, and she let it go. She seemed almost disappointed.

"Are we safe here?" Harry said in a hush.

"I've made us safe for now, but the hunters will soon bring friends. We must leave this place before they do. I fear that there's no place that is truly safe."

"Where will you go?" Harry asked her.

"I don't know," she shook her head. "I'm alone." The way she said it made it clear that she didn't just mean that she was alone in the woods. There was a desperate sadness behind the words that made it sound final.

He stepped forward, and not thinking, lifted his hand up to her cheek. He had to crane his neck backwards to look in her eyes. "You don't have to be."

"There's danger in what you're offering," she said in a hush. "You don't know how much."

"I think I can guess," Harry replied confidently. This was becoming almost a routine. "I have what one of my friends called a hero thing -- I can't just leave someone in danger."

She looked at him for a moment, another of those moments that seemed to last a lifetime, and then she nodded. "We will need to leave London. They will grow weaker as we draw them from their home, although I will, as well."

Harry asked, "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know," she said quietly. "But we'll have to go soon."

"We could go to my flat in London," Harry said, but he frowned. They'd have to go back through the hunters to get there. And, he still hadn't had a chance to repair the hole in his wall, or get rid of the clothes left by the vampire who had made it.

She shook her head. "That won't work."

"There's Hogwarts," he said, "but I can't get us there directly. We'd have to follow the railroad tracks."

The horses both rose up on their hind legs, snorting and whinnying madly. They came back down, looking at him with what looked like hatred.

"Right, then, not Hogwarts. I can't go to the Burrow, I can't bring hunters to them, and they've been through enough. And Ron's flat won't work either, although Luna might scare them off. But there is one place..."

"Whatever it is, we'll have to try it," she said. "We've run out of time."

Harry heard scratching against the fence, and a sound like a dozen jaws snapping shut. "Sounds like Fluffy," he said. She looked at him, cocking her head. "A dog a friend of mine used to have."

"It sounds like you have some rather interesting friends," she said, as she helped him mount one of the horses. The horses had no bridles, no saddles, not even a blanket, and she fixed his hands firmly on the horse's mane.

"You have no idea," he said, "just don't judge them all by the one you're about to meet, alright? Most of them aren't quite as bad as him."

She laughed, "Not exactly the most auspicious way to talk about someone that you're hoping will keep us safe. Does your friend know what you think of him?"

"I think so," Harry said, "We've told him often enough."

She threw her leg over her horse, and without even a word, both horses sprang into action. "Just whisper your directions into his ear, once we're out of the park. He'll get us there."

Her confidence wasn't something he could argue with. Once they were out of the park, he leaned over, whispering as close as he could to the horse's ear, although he could only reach halfway up the massive horse's neck. "Take the next road north. We're going to Malfoy Mansion."