A/N: First, I have to apologize for tardiness. I promised some people that this would be up a couple weeks ago on my birthday, but obviously it wasn't. I had some last minute inspiration that just needed to be put in, but that meant that I went back and redid the entire chapter a couple times. Anybody who liked the knife throwing in ch. 15 might like this one. Also, I've been working on a short story that will be up on my fictionpress page. Check it out under psychochick3.
My beta Raven Eades is awesome!!! Even though part of my delay is her fault. I decided I had to wait for her opinion, which was well worth it.
Disclaimer: Don't own, never will. No copyright infringement intended. What doesn't belong to JKR is mine, so hand's off!!!
Chapter 37
Crossing the dimensional barriers, Harry found himself not in his own realm as he intended, but rather in someplace completely unexpected.
The light was dim and dreary, like twilight in cloudy winter, and the air had a peculiar cold bite to it. Nothingness stretched to the horizon, and the surface beneath his feet was a featureless black solid. It reminded him uncomfortably of the Dream Stand, Lucifer's realm.
He heard footsteps behind him and whirled around to find himself. Or rather Wraith, walking up casually as if they were just calmly meeting in the corridors of Hogwarts.
"Well, that was an interesting way of doing that," Wraith commented, looking around with hands in his pockets. "Never thought that you could seduce Death."
Harry eyed him, uneasy from the surroundings and the sight of his doppelganger. "Where are we?"
Wraith simply shrugged. "No idea. Bit like that Dream Stand place, but not quite. At least Voldemort isn't here to start with his bondage games again."
Harry shook his head and started walking away, searching for anything in this featureless place. "I need to get out of here."
"What's your hurry? I get the feeling that time doesn't really exist here," Wraith said, following him. He gestured out into the expanse of darkness. "And what exactly do you hope to find? As you can see, there's nothing there. How can you even tell where you're going? Or are you just standing still?"
Harry stopped in his tracks and looked back, noting that everything really was the same. He knelt down and tapped on the floor, but it was solid and refused to scratch. No markers, no tracks, no boundaries existed in this place. Nothing.
He glanced back up at Wraith, who had a sardonic half-smile directed at him. "Already tried that. It's nothing."
"So what do we do? How do we get out of here?" Harry sighed, shifting around to sit cross-legged on the floor.
"No idea in hell," Wraith answered him, glancing around once before lowering himself to sit on the floor across from Harry. He leaned forward, fixing intense blue/green eyes on wary dark emerald ones. "What exactly are you thinking of doing?"
Harry leaned back a bit unconsciously, putting some space between them. "What do you mean?"
"With the talismans, with Death's power. What do you hope to accomplish?"
"An end," he blurted out, then ducked his head down to stare at his hands in his lap.
"An end to what?" Wraith countered, pinning Harry in place with his stare. "To the war? Voldemort is gone, Lucifer is gone, Death is conquered, and nothing can stand in our way. We can fix everything. We can rule over anything we want, or nothing. For the first time, we have choices."
"But the prophecy," Harry began.
"Damn the prophecy! Those Guardians couldn't figure it out after countless millennia. How do you know they're right?" Wraith scowled darkly, his hands clenching and unclenching.
Harry kept his gaze on those hands, noting absently how different they were from his. Slightly longer and calloused with more obvious veins and tendons standing sharply out from under darker skin as they flexed. Strong hands; the hands of a worker, of a warrior.
When Harry didn't answer, Wraith pressed, "The prophecy is a load of rubbish. We forge our own destiny now, away from any else's meddling and agendas. We are our own masters, answering to no one. Perfect freedom for the first time." He leaned back on one hand, eyes narrowing in contempt. "And you would throw it all away."
Harry finally looked up. "You keep saying 'we'. There is no 'we'. There is supposed to be an 'I', but that seems to have been shattered."
Wraith stared at him. "You don't want me here, do you?" he eventually said in a quiet voice. "You hate me, the fact that I used to be part of you. Is that the end you want? The end of me?"
His eerily calm voice set off warning bells in Harry's mind. He averted his eyes from Wraith, but couldn't help himself from saying, "You are not supposed to exist. You're nothing but a side product of the talismans, a tool that got out of control. You said it yourself, the war is over. So why should I keep a warrior around when there is nothing left to fight?"
Wraith's eyes bored into him mercilessly, a laser beam burrowing through the flesh and bone to the spirit underneath. "You think destroying the talismans will destroy me? Is that why you conquered Death? To get rid of me?"
Harry shook his head. "No. The only reason I challenged Death was to break free of our bargain." He frowned. "Which one of us actually made that, anyways?"
Wraith glared at him, irritated at the attempted subject change. "Are you really that stupid? You think that you had to drain Death of all her powers just to renege on the bargain?"
He snorted and shook his head incredulously. "And you think I'm vicious. Couldn't you tell for yourself that you could have just asked to be released? Or even just walked away? Once she gave in, she would have given you anything."
He smirked a bit and leaned forward on his hands, his face hovering only inches from Harry's. "I may be a warrior and a killer, but at least I never deliberately betrayed someone, you heartless bastard," he breathed out. "They say the deepest pits of hell are reserved for betrayers and traitors."
utter impenetrable blackness, nothingness in free fall
dark ice burning under the skin, itching, crawling through every inch
bones twisting, breaking, crunching, melting all at once
blood pounding, running, dripping, flowing, congealing
unimaginable stench rising up in clouds from below, gasping, choking, strangling
unearthly shrieks echoing through the blackness, madness unseen but felt
Harry jerked back as his words evoked those vivid mental images, sensations so strong they were nearly tangible yet almost incomprehensible to his mind. He knew he'd never seen anything like it before, yet it was as familiar to him as his own face.
He stared back into Wraith's eyes, shaken both by what he saw and the realization that his counterpart had no idea what he'd done. Quickly he stood on shaky legs and turned to walk away. "I had to," he murmured, not sure anymore who he was talking to.
Wraith followed him. "Had to?" he mocked. "No, you didn't."
Harry spun on him, eyes flaming. "Well, I didn't hear you giving me any really good options, you tosser," he spat. "What were your words? 'Let's fight her,' I believe? 'Just go and beat the crap out of her, then take what you need,' that sound familiar?" He advanced two steps, physically invading Wraith's space as he glared challengingly.
"Do you understand what the situation was? Death had me locked in an unbreakable deal; my life for Voldemort's. I was okay with that. But then came the little catch – I am the only one who can destroy those bloody talismans. I didn't know that before I made the deal. My job wasn't finished yet, and everything was going to keep getting worse until it was. So in order to do that, I have to be alive, which I can't be if Death has a hold on me."
He sneered up at him. "And no, I couldn't just ask. She wouldn't have given me up for anything. Remember before we made that bargain? She didn't want to let us go then, even though she had no real claim on us. Now she had everything she wanted and fought so hard to get. You think she would have just released me without a fight?"
He stepped forward again until he was nose to nose with Wraith. "So yes, I had to. I had to do what I did in order to save the whole fucking universe."
Wraith stared at him a moment in silence, then actually started to laugh. "I don't believe it. Here I thought you just wanted the power. Instead you're deluding yourself into believing that you are doing this for the good of all."
"I don't want this!!" Harry yelled right in his face, furious at his taunting. "I've never wanted any of it!! How can you tell me that you want this, this power ripping through you all the time?! It's driving me mad!! Can't you feel it?!"
"No," Wraith said quietly, unflinching in Harry's outburst. "I can't. I don't know what you're feeling, what Death feels like. I saw what you did, how it affected you, but not me." He sighed. "I'm not you, not anymore. I'm Wraith. Just another voice trapped in your head where it doesn't belong."
"Quit it with the pity party," Harry snapped. "You don't know what this is like. I feel," he started pacing agitatedly, "I feel like I'm lightning in a bottle, pure energy trapped in this tiny fragile shell and waiting to explode out any moment. It's maddening!!"
He whirled back to Wraith, poking a finger into his chest. "And you!! Yes, I do want you gone! I want you dead! I don't know who the hell you are anymore, but I hate you!! You've brought me nothing but pain!!" He emphasized this last part with a hard shove to the chest.
Wraith stumbled back, but then with a growl shoved back. That was it. Harry cocked his arm and threw the hardest punch he could, which caught an unprepared Wraith right in the nose. With a pop blood started pouring out of his nose, staining Harry's knuckles and running down over Wraith's lips.
Unholy fire blazed in blue/green eyes, and snarling Wraith dove for Harry, tackling him around the hips and driving them both to the ground. Harry landed with a bruising thud, knocking the wind out of him, then Wraith was straddling him with one hand on his throat and the other fist aiming for his face.
Harry whipped his head to the side to avoid the punch, but it still grazed the side of his head and made his ear ring. Gritting his teeth, he bucked upwards and threw Wraith off of him. Both scrambled to their feet at the same instant and immediately leapt, wanting nothing more than to pound the other through the solid ground.
Wraith launched a high roundhouse kick at Harry's head, and when Harry reached out to grab his ankle, intent on using the leverage to throw him to the floor, he quickly jerked it back and instead kicked him right in the chest. Harry flew backwards a few feet, gasping as some ribs gave way in sharp bursts of pain, then recovered himself and blocked Wraith's follow-thru punch.
Twisting around, he snapped a side kick into Wraith's armpit, trying to hit the pressure point there. Wraith rolled his shoulder back so the blow missed that spot, but it still came within millimeters of dislocating the entire shoulder.
Ignoring the pain, Wraith ducked a knife hand to the neck, rolled forward to the side to come up behind Harry and jabbed twice into the kidneys.
With a pained grunt Harry threw himself forward, rolling with the impact and simultaneously kicking his feet back. One heel hit Wraith right in the chin, clicking his teeth together sharply and knocking at least two of them loose.
That move left them both sprawled out unceremoniously on the ground for a moment, then Harry rolled up and back to his feet, hate still pouring off him in waves. Wraith shook his head, spit out some blood, then met Harry's charge head on.
They exchanged blow after blow, some impacting while others were barely avoided, but the clones were nearly evenly matched. Just when one would get the advantage, the other would retaliate and claw his way back to the upper hand. Proper fighting styles went out the figurative window; they were fighting to hurt each other, not to end it.
It wasn't until untold minutes later, when Wraith was slamming Harry's head onto the floor, that he even thought to use magic.
Desperately Harry wrenched out of Wraith's grip and kicked his feet upwards, throwing the other over his head to land hard on his back. Stretching out a hand, Harry threw a black fireball at him, which immediately engulfed his opponent.
Wraith rolled out of the way, slapping out the smoldering areas on his clothes as he coughed briefly on the smoke. He kept rolling at Harry fired spell after spell at him, each one splintering on the ground where Wraith had been just a fraction of a second before.
Finally Wraith managed to get up a shield long enough to get back to his feet. With a loathing glare, he shot a curse back at Harry, which hit like a Bludger from hell and snapped his arm in two places.
Harry bit his lip, blocked the pain and let his rage fuel his magic. The cold lightning flared out, swirling through him uncontrollably before directing itself onto Wraith in all it's terrible vengeance.
No light or form was visible with this magic, but icy hands plucked Wraith up from the ground and tossed him upwards high into nothingness before the rest ripped through him, a invisible phalanx of frozen spears.
Wraith hit the ground with a sickening thud and lay still. Harry stared at him, breathing hard and furious through his nose as he struggled to control himself and the power that longed to tear free again. Finally he walked forward, cradling his broken arm, and knelt by Wraith's side.
Wraith slowly turned his head to look at him, blood spattering his face like war paint. There was blood everywhere in fact, oozing from dozens of different wounds and pooling onto the black ground like quicksilver. His hands clutched his torso, trying to press hard enough to contain the blood gushing out over his hands from the fist-sized hole.
He laughed, a quiet choking noise. "You create me, then you destroy me. How appropriate," he managed, blood coating his lips as he spoke. "But no matter what you do, I'll still be here."
Harry furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to ask, but Wraith cut him off. "Go save the world, you bastard," he spat. "Even though you can't even save yourself."
"And how am I supposed to do that? I don't even know where I am!" Harry gritted out, frustrated and confused and guilty.
"Oh, so it's attack first, ask questions later, is it?" Wraith sneered, then coughed up more blood that appeared pink and frothy on his chin. "Wake up."
Wake up.
Wake up.
Wake up.
Wake up.
With a snap his eyes opened and he sat up, frantically looking around his surroundings, confused.
This realm was as if he had never left. How long had it been? Day was still black as night under billowing clouds of ash and smoke, and the ravaged earth was littered with scattered stone and mangled corpses, all covered with a layer of soot. Little points of light marked where guttering fires still managed to feed off something.
Harry blinked, then looked down at himself. His ribs were intact, his arm was fine, and there wasn't any fresh blood. In fact, from all appearances that fight he had just been in never happened.
He shook his head with confusion even as the images began fading from his mind. Did he really just kill off the voice in his head? Or was that all a stress-related dream? Maybe the dimensional transitions were starting to mess with his sanity.
It didn't really matter now, he supposed as he slowly clambered to his feet. He had a job to do. The sooner that was done, the sooner this whole nightmare would be over.
Harry glanced around, remembering when this place had been a peaceful green lawn leading up to a magnificent magical castle. He sighed slightly, careful not to breathe too deeply lest he choke on the foul air.
This more than anything eradicating the last hints of childhood innocence that he'd ever known, whatever scraps that still existed outside himself in memories. All during his shadow war, despite all he had seen and done, as long as he could return to Hogwarts he could at least pretend to be normal. There he had friends and classes and worries like a normal teenager.
Harry shook himself from these thoughts and sternly put them aside as he focused on his task. He had to find the talismans and destroy them. This had to end.
He put his hand on his chest, feeling the pendant still hanging there securely. Without another look back, Harry walked into the remains of the forest, following the throb of magic from the talismans that called to him like a beacon. The gloom soon swallowed him whole, leaving no trace of life.
The ash falling on him diminished as he reached the shelter of tress still with leaves on their branches, then ceased entirely as the forest thickened soon he was fighting his way through undergrowth that tangled around his legs in blackness as the trees blocked all light.
He growled in frustration at the thorns tearing through his trousers, then decided to do something different. With a small pop he shrank into the form of a small snake and easily slithered under the inhibiting foliage. He only changed back when he reached a small clearing with room enough to stand and stretch.
Here the sky seemed a bit lighter, and the ash no longer fell so thickly but rather as a fine dust. He sat down, and only then realized how incredibly thirsty he was. The dust coated his mouth and dried it out until his tongue tasted like a desiccated mummy. He didn't even have enough saliva to spit.
In fact, now that he thought about it, his whole body felt like he'd already been mummified. His eyes itched and wanted to fall through his skull, his skin felt dry and cracked all over like papyrus paper, and his insides ached and shriveled from constant exertion.
He felt like death.
The power flowing through him assured him he was very much alive, though. He saw much more than just the physical, for that was only one plane of this realm. It was as if all his senses had been hyper-extended to see all planes, and brought back so much information on his surroundings it literally crawled and itched under his skin.
Desperate for some relief, Harry put his hand to the ground and called for the Elements. The earth moved under his fingers and a hole about ten feet deep and the same in diameter hollowed itself out, then quickly filled with clean cold water. A light breeze stirred the air, sweeping away the dirty ash and warming like springtime. With a sigh Harry knelt at the side of the pool, dipped his cupped hands in and brought the water to his lips.
The first sip made him gag as it turned to mud from all the dust in his mouth and he spat it out in disgust. The second nearly choked him when the dryness of his throat prevented swallowing.
But when the water hit his tongue the third time, only then he noticed the taste. Instead of a soothing fresh coolness, the water was bitterly cold and stale, like melted snow on a tomb.
Wincing, he still drank it down slowly until his thirst subsided. He splashed his face, sputtering with thermal shock until all the grime rinsed off, then looked down at his reflection.
His hair was short still, (but obnoxiously clearly starting to grow out again) and matted down with dried sweat and grime, and his face looked twenty years older than his age. But his eyes startled him the most.
Gone was the bright emerald green that he inherited from his mum. Now the irises were dark forest green with shades of black, mixing and rippling with the silver surface and black bottom of the pool until he was staring into seeming endlessness. He couldn't tell which was the reflection.
Startled, he jerked back from the water and looked away. An old saying echoed through his head. "If you gaze into the abyss for too long, the abyss gazes back out of you."
Shaking his head, he rose and continued on, refusing to look back for fear of what he might see.
The forest was eerily quiet, and if his nerves weren't already strung tighter than a Stradivarius, this would have set him on edge. The trees closed in around him, dark and unremarkable, and he felt like he was going nowhere.
Before there was nothing, here everything was the same something. He couldn't tell which was worse. The only indication that he was getting close was the steadily increasing strength of the talisman's call.
Finally Harry caught a glimpse of a brighter patch of light just ahead, by which he could see the gnarled wood of several ancient yew trees. The talismans' magic pulsed so forcefully he half-expected the trees to be shaking.
Approaching cautiously, he pushed between a couple trunks and stopped gazing at the scene before him with jaded and cynical eyes.
The grass had been entirely scorched away, leaving charred dirt and soot to stir fretfully at every breath of air. In the center were deep gouges in the earth, pitch black and shimmering like tar only slightly dimmed by dust.
Scattered around these small trenches were the remains of the Death Eaters, lying lifeless like half-deflated blow-up dolls, their skin an ashy blue/gray and coated with a fine black dust. Lucius Malfoy's silver hair was clearly visible even under the black, and Harry noticed that his throat was slit wide open.
He smirked slightly at the futility of the scene, then stepped into the clearing and headed for the center. Absently stepping over the corpses, Harry locked his eyes on the small hollow of earth where the talismans lay like discarded toys.
The orb pulsed rhythmically, almost contentedly, but the knife glared out in stark brilliance against the charred earth, its pristine lines and color demanding that it be removed from this place Right Now.
Instinctively Harry reached for it, then hesitated. Now he knew what the talisman did, he wasn't sure he wanted to touch it. What if it split him completely, like Death? Would Wraith help him or oppose him? Would he retain enough power to destroy it? And for that matter, did he want to touch the orb either?
Harry decided he had better not chance it. He stripped off the remains of his shirt, tore it in half, then wrapped both talismans separately. The thin cloth felt woefully inadequate against the magic thrumming around and through them, but it was better than nothing. He stood, tucking each package under one arm, and considered what to do next.
He had to go someplace else. He couldn't destroy them here, so surrounded by the lingering traces of Voldemort's ritual. He needed someplace clear and close, without anybody around. Almost instantly his thoughts turned to Hogwarts, of that deserted battleground that he still couldn't help but call home.
The next second the talismans' magic seemed to shove him hard in the back. He stumbled and fumbled to keep a grip on his packages, but when he looked up he nearly dropped them again. Once again he found himself in a place he didn't expect, with no idea how he got there. He was back at Hogwarts, right outside the remains of what possibly had been the Astronomy Tower.
He glared suspiciously down at the talismans, which gave him a little jolt as if in mocking confirmation. He could swear they were almost sentient.
Well, two could play at that game.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on a mental picture of Hogwarts the first time he'd seen it from the boat on the lake as a timid first year: the way it sparkled and rose majestically above the lake, the pristine grounds and towers, and the sense of magic pervading it. The place that had become his home.
The air around him rippled and shifted, then the talismans burned cold in his hands as power throbbed like a bass drum underwater. The earth beneath him trembled violently as several loud cracks and crashes split the air, and wind tugged at him in upward cyclones.
Finally everything stilled with a suddenness that made his breath hitch in his chest. Warily he opened his eyes as the talismans shivered a bit sullenly. Imagination is a powerful tool. Gone were the ruins, the devastated forest, the ash-dusted corpses. Gone were the blood spatters and pools, the debris and wreckage.
Instead Harry stood on immaculate rolling lawns beside the towering edifice of Hogwarts castle, sparkling clean in the Halloween sun under a clear sky. The stones seemed almost newly cut, the windows glinted spotlessly, and the statues and gargoyles were especially pleased with their makeover. An autumn breeze blew from the forest, snapping the pennants at the Quidditch pitch and carrying scents of living growing trees and magical plants mixed with sounds of unseen animals.
Harry blinked, sure that he was hallucinating. None of this could possibly be real. It had been completely destroyed in front of his eyes. The knife buzzed in his hand irritably as if insulted.
"Yes, together they do obey your commands," came a voice from off to the side, and Harry spun to see Eva standing there, much as when he had first met her.
The phoenix Eredfire sat perched on her shoulder, silently regarding him with beady eyes. For an eternity Harry and Eva stared at each other, eyes searching but not finding. Eventually she sighed and shook her head, breaking eye contact. "I miss you, Harry."
Harry bristled at her words, but he couldn't explain why. The phoenix cocked his head, then let out a sad warbling note before unfurling his wings and flying away, feathers glinting in the bright sunlight. Eva watched him go, resignation etched in her expression. "Eredfire misses Harry too. It gets so lonely without one of your own to talk too, especially someone he's bonded to."
Harry shook his head with irritation. "What are you talking about, missing me? I'm right here."
Eva crossed her arms. "Are you really? Who is right here? Harry, or Wraith?" She took a step towards him, steel-eyed. "Or is it Death?"
Harry stepped back involuntarily, shaken at her words. She pressed her advantage, closing in on him with an inscrutable mix of emotions playing across her face. "Why?" she demanded, and Harry stopped, standing his ground.
"I had to," he bit out, already tired of defending his actions. "It was the only way I could finish this whole goddamn business."
"Oh really?" she retorted, fire in her eyes. "How do you know that? Did you ask anyone else? Someone who actually knew what was going on?"
"Like who?" he shot back with his jaw clenched. "No one actually knows the whole story."
She only arched an eyebrow at him as she rapidly switched tactics. "Do you know why our connection was failing?" she asked softly, and Harry frowned both at the change in subject and her tone.
"Honestly, I never thought that hard about it."
She pursed her lips in a thin line. "Typical. And it could have saved you so much trouble." He furrowed his brow in confusion, so she sighed and dropped her arms to her sides. "It happened because you were splitting, because the talismans was separating you and Wraith into different minds. Two split minds cannot keep a whole mental connection."
Harry strode towards her with fists clenches, his fury kindled hot. "Yet another thing you knew and failed to tell me," he fumed. "How can I trust you? How many lies and half-truths have you blinded me with this whole time, while concealing the truth?"
"How many were you ready for? How many would you believe?" she retaliated, her posture open but slightly defensive. "Maybe I was trying to protect you the best way I knew."
"From what?!" he glared at her venomously. "All your interference has done is mislead and confuse me. The only one I needed protection from was you!"
Eva glared back at him with disgust. "You really are like Death. Always pointing fingers at others, blaming them for your actions."
"Stop comparing me to her! We are nothing alike!"
Eva raised her eyebrows in scornful surprise. "Oh really? I recall you singing a different tune just a little while ago." She closed on him, an almost palpable energy surrounding her in her fury.
"You seduced her with words, claiming to be her equal, the only one to understand her. You proposed a marriage of equals, edifying each other through mutual support. And then you betrayed her," she fairly spat. "The hero is just a common Judas, turning once he had his thirty pieces of silver."
Harry turned his face away, jaw clenched. "I had no choice." He shot a hard look sideways at her. "Why are you so mad about his anyway? I always got the impression you don't care much for Death."
Her face instantly became guarded, a strange look in her eyes. "It's more complicated than you know," she murmured, "but suffice to say that I do indeed care about Death." She looked up into his eyes. "Almost as much as I care about you."
Harry resisted the urge to step back under her gaze. "What, what do you mean?" he asked cautiously.
Eva sighed heavily as her eyes rolled heavenwards. "Are you being dense on purpose?" This came out with a slight note of desperation. "Can't you see what's right in front of you?"
Now Harry backed up and Eva followed, approaching closer with each step even as he retreated. She backed him right up to the walls of Hogwarts, and he pressed his palms against the stones as if wishing to melt into them rather than face the intensity of the woman in front of him. She stopped directly in front of him, her body barely brushing his but it was enough.
Harry looked away, searching for an escape route, but Eva caught his chin and forced him to look at her, pinning him in place with a piercing hazel glare. "Can't you see?" she said quietly, fiercely. "I love you, Harry."
He froze, eyes wide at her words. "I'm not supposed to, but I do anyways. Seeing you like this hurts me more than I ever imagined it would."
"What?" he managed to get out.
Eva smiled sadly. "I love Harry, the young man I trained and grew to know, the human beneath the hero. Now you are closer than ever before, bound, yet it's not the same. It's not right."
He shook his head, dislodging her grip. "I don't understand," he pleaded softly.
Eva backed away from him, her shoulders slumping as she sighed. "I didn't think you would. Your actions have changed much, but not nearly as badly as the others think, young phoenix."
It was the wrong thing to say. From the cooling ashes his anger kindled again, and he spat, "Don't call me that!!"
His hand raised, but she caught it before he even realized consciously that he was about to strike her. Eyes blazing fire, Eva yanked him forward so that he stumbled into her and she grabbed his other hand. With a sharp whistle through her teeth, music started playing from somewhere inside the castle, and she took another step backwards.
Harry recognized her intentions immediately, and with a low growl pulled her to him, one hand clasped with hers and the other on her waist. Eyes met in familiar fierce challenge, then he pushed forward aggressively and she followed his movements, quickly finding a rhythm together to the music. Despite the fact that they hadn't danced like this together in a lifetime, they remembered every move perfectly, the haunting pulse of the tango structuring their argument.
During his training, arguments between them were to be expected, so they only fought when they were dancing or sparring, depending on how serious it was. The physical aspect drew off built up tension so they could focus mentally and emotionally on the conflict without erupting into violence. They only danced-fought when the disagreements were intense, when sparring would have turned into a full-out brawl.
But never before had it been like this. Gone were the traditional ballroom steps and casual conversations, the playful banter and teases that had always marked their dancing. The tension and sheer energy between them brought the tango back to its roots in the back alleys and brothels of Buenos Aires; a dance of power, physical sensuality, sheer machismo and furious protest.
Their bodies danced the battle, every movement and step a blow, while they glared at each other in a silent battle of wills. The very air crackled with barely contained power, a palpable storm building between them.
Finally Harry broke the silence, gritting out, "Why didn't you tell me about the talismans?"
"Because I didn't know you were supposed to know," Eva countered as one leg slid between his before she spun away. "The Guardians didn't tell me that you were involved in the Prophecy. All Death said was that you needed a trainer and none of the Shamak'la seemed suitable."
One hand came up to cup his cheek, eyes locked even as her body twisted with her steps. "We presumed it was for the coming war, since you had beaten off Voldemort and Death once, and would need to do so again. Your parents and others encouraged me to take up the task, so I did. The Guardians never bothered to tell me that you needed to be not only a warrior, but a savior of the universe."
He rolled his eyes as her sarcasm, dipping her backwards slowly as one leg curled around his hip for balance. "So once I had it, why didn't you warn me about its powers?"
Eva turned in his grasp, slid behind him and to his other side in one quick movement, trailing a hand over his bare shoulder blades. "You have to understand something about the talismans. Yes, in the end it did split you, but at first after you touched it, some of its powers were accessible to you. How else can you explain how you rescued Snape out of your dreams?"
Once again in his arms, she met his eyes defiantly. "I saw how strong Voldemort was getting, so I thought that if you had this extra source of power to draw on temporarily, this whole thing could end quickly and then we'd deal with the talisman."
"How convenient."
Her arms laced around his neck and she pressed closer to him. "It was a gamble, yes, and one that seems to have backfired. Our mental link failed as you split, and I didn't know what was going on until too late."
Eva cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowing. "How did you know Death would give in to you? Nobody touches Death, especially not mortals."
Harry shrugged, hands on her hips guiding her though the dance, her nearness rather distracting from his anger. Which really was the point of it. "I didn't know," he admitted. "But that was the best thing I could come up with. Wraith wanted to fight her."
Eva chuckled lightly, the vibrations echoing from her chest to his where they pressed together. "Glad you talked him out of it, but it would have been interesting to watch."
She sobered, her gaze tracing his features as if searching for something lost. "Why?" she whispered. "Why did you have to do it this way? Why did you have to sacrifice Harry to become Death?"
He stared at her. "I am Harry. I may have taken Death's powers, but I'm still me." She shook her head, so he fired back, "Then who do you think I am?"
"I can't tell you who you are, only who you are not." She sighed. "The form is Harry," and she ran one hand down his bare chest as if to confirm that observation, "but inside is Death. You are starting to become her – your actions and thinking are similar. You see things you don't recognize but you know already. You feel like her, hard and cold and unforgiving. Even your hands are cold as ice."
She took his hand in hers, and it was only then that he noticed how blazing hot she seemed in comparison with his chill skin. He shivered, both from that realization and her words, at the truth she told. But then he noticed other things, other truths.
He looked at their fingers intertwined, at how perfectly she fit against him, of how natural it seemed to hold her close and move with her. Her eyes drew him, the rich hazel with flecks of green and gold surrounded by a dark ring, and he knew there was something there, something that connected them together so closely they should have been one person.
She was staring back at him, questioning, neither noticing that the music had stopped, or that they were standing motionless in the shadow of the castle, still in each others arms. Tension again thickened the air, but this storm did not promise violence as earlier. Harry's gaze dropped to her lips, and slowly he leaned down, hovering uncertainly for a second.
Then he kissed her.
For an eternal moment, she was still, not reacting. Then she relaxed with a sigh, pressed herself closer and kissed him back.
Softness, warmth, slight movement against his mouth, and it was perfect.
His hands wrapped around her, unwilling to let her go when she belonged here. Without prompting he gave himself completely over to the kiss and the wonderful girl in his arms. The floodgates opened, and just like the Death they were both completely open to each other.
The power surged between them through the simple contact, and for the first time ever he felt complete, at peace.
Right here, right now, the universe was perfect.
Then something changed.
From Eva came a dark spot, a swirling whirlpool of almost-nothingness in her consciousness, buried in the back of her mind. It was a wound never healed, a black hole where something had long ago been torn away. It tugged at him in recognition, drawing him in, and before he could draw back, he knew the truth.
Harry shuddered in her embrace, the borrowed power draining from him with a nauseating sucking feeling that left him shaken and dizzy. He clung to Eva to keep upright, and only then did their kiss break.
He stumbled back, gasping as he stared horrified at Eva, who was shaking badly.
She looked at him and gave him a feeble smile. "Judas," she whispered tremulously. "Betrayed by a kiss."
He shook his head, unable to believe what he knew was the truth. "How . . . why?" he stammered, not quite able to articulate the million questions he needed to ask. She simply shrugged, as if the answer should be obvious.
"What are you?" he blurted out.
One eyebrow arched in question. "What do you think I am?"
Harry closed his eyes and sat heavily on the grass, mind whirling with an unbearable sense of sadness. Eva wrapped her arms around herself as if warding off a chill, still trembling like a veil in the wind. "It was the talismans," she said quietly in explanation.
"Before the orb was created to counter its power, the dagger tore Death in two. One retained her physical form, but the other became her alter ego, the antithesis of what she was, the ying to the yang."
She looked at him sadly. "Just as Harry remained, but Wraith was created from your darker side, one that embraced means and thoughts that Harry never would have entertained." Harry refused to meet her eyes, so she turned her gaze away, looking out over the sunlit trees of the forest as she continued.
"Death was weakened but still able to perform her job. So what to do with the other? She was not a Guardian, but not anything else either. So they exiled her from their presence, unable to face the constant reminder of their failure, then set up boundaries for her to follow, a cage for this anomaly to prevent her from affecting their work. They named her Lysaeva, the outcast.
"She became a wandering exile, watching over the downtrodden and those in need, helping when possible such as the Guardians were forbidden to do. This was how she became a guardian of a different sort. One realm named her their guardian angel, granting her a new name, one of hope."
Harry met her eyes as he breathed, "Eva. The angel."
She nodded with a slightly ironic smile. "Funny how their guardian is the Angel of Death." He snorted, and she looked at him pointedly. "And this whole time you've been dancing with Death. Or at least her better half."
Harry pursed his lips, then asked softly, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Death forbid me to tell anyone outside the Guardians. Death could not be seen as weak, especially with her former servant still on the loose." She sighed, then tentatively sat next to Harry, laying a hand on his arm.
Harry refused to look at her now, his heart aching. He swallowed hard, but the ache stubbornly remained, compounded by a profound loneliness. She had lied to him. She had betrayed him. Whatever he had done to Death was out of necessity, but she had willfully lied to him about herself. If he couldn't trust Eva, whom could he trust anymore?
He looked out over the grounds, hating how everything could seem so bright and new and full of hope when he himself seemed to be drowning in darkness. Death's power was gone, which was at once a relief and unbearable. It no longer tormented him, overloading him with unnatural strength, but at the same time it was the only thing letting him know he was still alive. Part of it also connected him with Eva, for they both held a part of Death inside that drew them together.
What was left for him now? The talismans were still there, lying on the grass just waiting for him. He knew that he'd have to get on with it soon, but right now he couldn't bear to go anywhere near them. What would he do afterwards? He had no life. Everything he knew, everything he was trained to do and excel at, was now useless. He felt old, and suddenly worthless.
His fists clenched, sorrow transmuting to anger. All this because of a stupid riddle that some stupid watchers couldn't figure out. They had their plots and their schemes and their manipulations, but in the end none of it worked because of a damn failure to communicate. He cursed them, for their shortsightedness, for their failures, and for destroying his life.
Wait . . .
A line of the prophecy niggled at his mind, and he frowned, thinking. The one line Destiny could never figure out . . .
Suddenly he snapped his head up, a wild look of comprehension in his eyes. "'Joins with angel's light'," he murmured, the corners of his mouth twitching.
"What?" Eva startled out of her own thoughts.
"That line of the Prophecy, the one the Guardians never figured out," he exclaimed hastily. "'The heir of Merlin joins with angel's light'." He looked her straight in the eye. "Maybe everything didn't go wrong after all. Maybe Time was right. Maybe you weren't an accident. Maybe, despite Fate's interference, things turned out how they were supposed to."
Eva looked puzzled, then light dawned in her eyes. "You think . . .? Those idiots," she breathed as a broad smile broke out on her face. "The answer was right under their noses, and they nearly threw it out."
Harry scrambled to his feet and tugged Eva up after him, then ran over to the two innocent looking objects lying forgotten in the grass. The two knelt down by them and with trembling fingers unwrapped the talismans. The etched Eye on the knife glared daggers at them, but the orb pulsed almost cheerfully, clearly ready for whatever needed to be done.
Harry touched the pendant hanging over his breastbone. This time when he looked at the writing around the edges, he could understand it perfectly. The instructions were clear and remarkably simple, which he read aloud to Eva. They looked down at the talismans laying there, the cause of so much destruction and heartache.
Eva reached out and gripped Harry's hand. "Harry," she said seriously, "there was a reason why the Guardians left you to destroy these. They contain unimaginable power, which would have destroyed entire realms. When you do it, they won't simply go away. There's just too much magic involved."
He frowned. "What do you think will happen?"
She shook her head. "I don't really know. Whatever it is will be contained, but still . . ." She bit her lip, tracing a finger on his arm right over the Phoenix Lord tattoo. "There's a good chance that whatever happens, I will cease to exist. And possibly you too."
Harry drew in a sharp breath at the thought. An eternity with Death he could handle, but to never exist . . .
But there was no other way. "That's a risk we will have to take," he said calmly, then tried to smile. "As long as it takes Wraith with it, I'll be happy."
She attempted to smile back, but her eyes were too worried. Impulsively she leaned over and kissed him hard on the mouth. When she pulled away, they were both breathless and blinking sparkles of light out of their eyes.
Harry smiled, a small but genuine smile that drove the darkness out of his eyes. Then he cleared his throat and focused on the talismans again.
He held the orb still on the ground with one hand and plucked up the dagger with the other. Immediately he felt the power surge through him, but instead of overwhelming him he felt it drawn through him into the orb.
Harry took a deep breath, glanced up at Eva one last time, then plunged the dagger straight through the orb.
Instantly reality disappeared in a blinding white nothingness.
Anybody else ever kill off one of the voices in their head?
I have many. I don't miss them.