Chapter Twelve

Promises, Blood. and Iron

The day they had gotten married had been a beautiful day. It was as if the world knew that this was a special day, that nothing could go wrong, and all had to be perfect. And it was. The sun shone brightly, but not hot. There was a soft breeze that playing among the grasses and the wind chimes. There had been good food and good company. Everyone coming together for that special day.

Harry had been uncomfortable as he could possibly get without going mad. It was not his wedding yet he was the one sweating profusely and nervous beyond all reason. Meanwhile Dudley was sitting relaxed in a chair, feet kicked up on a small stool, eyes closed, and just waiting until it was time to take there places. There was not one doubt in Dudley's mind about his marriage.

"Calm down, Harry." Dudley said, opening an eye to watch his cousin pacing nervously back and forth. 'You're not the one being condemned to one woman for the rest of your life." He grinned over his shoulder.

"Oh, Harry's got sympathy nerves. Being this close to an actual wedding is definitely too close for comfort. Your cousin has commitment issues, if you didn't know." Hermione said. She was sitting not far from Dudley, back straight and not a wrinkle upon the pale yellow dress she wore. Her brown eyes connected briefly with Harry's as he shot her a pained look. She smiled, showing him that she had been kidding. But he knew she hadn't been. How many times had they talked about? How many times had they tried to talk about their future, only to have it go nowhere?

"It's just I've never given away anyone before." Harry said. He sat down upon a chair, elbows upon knees, and blowing out a breath.

"Watch it. You'll muss up your suit." Hermione warned.

"I'm surprised I haven't sweated through this thing yet." Harry remarked, picking at the black tux. Muggle clothing for a Muggle wedding. With the passing of her family, Joan didn't have a strong hold upon the Wizarding World. She had gladly dived into the Muggle world and quickly picked up it's customs. Though she was working for the Ministry, her life was in the Muggle world.

"Who else but the Man who defeated the Dark Lord to give away the most beautiful bride in the world?" Dudley asked, sitting up. He glanced at his watch and nodded to himself. "Show's about to start, kids. I think it's time to get into your places." Dudley glanced at Harry. "Don't messed this up, cousin." Hermione gave a sharp nod in agreement.

Harry groaned as he got to his feet. "Fine. But don't blame me when I have to come back and tell you she's run off. Only a fool would marry an ugly ape like you." Dudley replied to the comment with a few colorful words that caused Hermione to stifle a chuckle and shoot glares at the both of them.

XXX

"I'm sorry." Harry muttered, closing her eyes. Those pale blue eyes that stared at him, not accusing, only questioning. Why? Why did you fail me?

"I'm so sorry." He clenched his own eyes shut, barely holding back the tears. How could he have failed? How could he have broken the promise he'd given?

XXX

She had been crying. Harry could see that. What he could also see was that they were not the tears of joy or happiness. He knew all about the tears of pain and fear. He'd shed them plenty of times and he'd been the cause of more than a few himself.

Joan looked up at him, her eyes widening slightly and moving quickly to blot out the trails running down her cheeks. "Is it time?" She asked, clearing her throat.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked. Hermione had always claimed he lacked the tact that was needed in dealing with issues of emotion. He knew it, but then there were times when bluntness worked just as well or better than tact. What he had learned was that it was not the gentle probing with words that helped people, but the solid presence of another person who cared. In his own limited capacity he could be that person, if need be.

"I can't." Joan whispered. "I can't." She clenched her eyes and began sobbing. Clutching her arms around her waist and letting out a sorrowful wail of pain. For a moment Harry was caught off guard by the pure intensity of the emotion, but he quickly crossed the intervening space and offered what help he could.

There were many experiences and things that Harry never wished he knew. Things in which the only way to learn to deal with them was by experiencing it yourself. Sorrow. Pain. Loss. Fear. All those Harry knew how to deal with, how to cope with, for he had lived through them all. He had felt his soul torn out by the pain, he had felt a hardness so painful fill his entire being, and he'd felt so hollow by sorrow that nothing seemed to matter.

After several minutes the sobs quieted and the shuddering stopped. The pain and the sorrow were still there, but the body could only give so much. After a while the tears ran out, the sobs stopped, but the emotions were still there.

"I can happen again." Joan whispered. "They can come again and destroy it all. They can turn everything we've made into ash and not even take a second thought on it."

Harry reached forward and gripped her hand. "Do you love Dudley?" He asked.

"Yes. With all my heart." She responded immediately.

"Then is it not worth taking the risk? To be with the person you love the most?" Harry asked.

Joan was quiet. "I'm just so terrified."

"Then I'll promise you this. Never will any harm come to you or your family." Harry said, gripping her hand tightly. "By all that's holy and good. I swear I'll personally make sure that nothing dangerous ever comes your way."

Joan shook her head. 'I can't take that promise, Harry." She said. "It's too much."

Harry smiled tightly. "Call it a wedding gift. The promise of the Man who defeated the Dark Lord to watch over your family, I'm sure that's worth something. I owe Dudley far more than I can ever repay him in this life. He deserves this happiness, one that you can only give him."

"What about your happiness?" Joan asked.

"I was never meant to be happy." Harry grinned, pushing away the wave of feeling the words produced. "So that means I'll heave to live vicariously through you two. That'll mean you two will have to have a long and happy marriage, with lots of kids."

"How can I deny your request?" Joan asked, laughing slightly. She gripped Harry's hands tightly. "Promise me you'll try to find your own happiness."

"I'll do what I can." Harry replied, rising to his feet. He glanced toward the door. "I'm sure Dudley's pacing a hole in the floor with nervousness. You ready to do this?"

"There were never any doubts." Joan replied, also rising to her feet.

As they entered the bedecked hall, filled with guests and music, Harry spotted Hermione. She stood radiantly beautiful as the Maid of Honor, a look of relief upon her face as she saw them entering. He wondered if he could ever take that risk. To be with the one person he loved and damn the costs. Hermione smiled as she saw Harry watching her. Seeing the smile, Harry knew he'd give it his best shot.

XXX

It had been a beautiful day. Harry thought. Dudley had been happy, Joan had been happy, Hermione had been happy, and for once he'd felt at peace. He'd seen that wonderful family start; he'd seen the love in their eyes, and the joy in their hearts. Now he stared at their end. He stared at the crimson stained floors, and the sightless eyes that would never hold love again.

Failure and a burning sense of rage.

XXX

He was big and mean. All his life he had been an object of fear, the Giant they had called him, an insult, and death to anyone who said it to his face. He was a pureblood and pity anyone who even thought otherwise. He was a pureblood in a world that was continuously tainted by the half-breed, mud-blood, Muggle lovers that filled every nook and cranny of the Wizarding World.

The Second War had ended before he could join it. The Great Dark Lord had fallen before he could welcome him into his ranks. Destroyed by a mere boy, a boy who had become the man now trapped in the house before him.

Harry Potter. The supposed Boy Who Lived and the Man Who Conquered.

Thick metal clad hands held the pommel of a great sword. Nearly four feet of hard steel. There was nothing magical about the blade, just plain steel made from his own hands. Now those hands gripped tightly upon the pommel as several armored figures came out of the shattered door of the home. They moved quickly and quietly, for all their size and bulk.

"We have the child, M'lord." One of them rasped, it held up the squalling form of a baby.

Behind his mask of steel, he snarled. "Fool. I said the girl child. Not this creature." The sword moved with a glittering arch and the squalling stopped. "Now. Find me the girl child."

"Potter still lives." Another spoke. "The others are holding him off in the kitchen of the house. What shall we do?"

His hands tightened around the sword pommel and beneath his mask he grinned. "Potter will die."

XXX

They came trudging up the stairs. Heavy steps that shook the floorboards and caused the stairs to creak. Harry rose to his feet. They had defiled this house for too long.

Blood of the mother and blood of the children. That had been Dudley's request. He hadn't cared about his own safety, only those of his family. So Harry had faithfully made it so. Just as Dumbledore had once used the blood he shared with the Dursleys to protect the house, so did Harry.

Now. The blood lay cooling upon the floors. The ties that bound the charms began to unravel and the wards began to crumble. Blood of the mother and blood of the children. When their blood stopped flowing, then the magic would stop working.

The horror of it filled Harry as he walked to the door. The surrealistic feeling of it all. there were no more. The love and the happiness that once filled the house would never happen again.

The first knight came into focus. Big and tall as they all were. Harry stared at it, almost through it. He'd face their kind before. The Dread Knights of the Iron Duke. A stupid name for an idiotic fool who thought himself powerful. The knights halted, the rasping of steel filling the air. Harry watched them.

"Get out." He yelled. There was laughter as a response and they charged.

Blood of the mother and blood of the children. When their blood stopped flowing, then the magic would stop working. Harry pulled out his wand and called out a curse, the hate, the rage, and the pain condensed into a stream of light. He heard their screaming and continued forward, the way now cleared.

It took only a moment to port Dudley with his wife. They had begun this family together and it was only right that they be together when it ended. He continued down the stairs and out into the bright morning.

It was a beautiful day. Harry thought as he walked out into the lawn. The sun wasn't too hot, nor did he think it would get any hotter. The sky was clear, a brilliant blue. There was a soft breeze blowing, one carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and… Harry choked. He could smell the death. He could smell the lingering scent of fear and pain.

"Ah." A deep voice said. Harry's eyes snapped to a huge man in black armor. In his hands he held a great sword, it's blade glittering in the sunlight. "So we finally meet, Harry Potter."

He slammed the point of his sword into the ground. "Let me introduce myself. I am the Iron Duke. I am here to defeat you." He called out. Harry continued to stare at him. "I have heard you are good with a sword. The Grim Lord was a great swordsman and you defeated him. I am here to challenge you. My steel against yours."

Harry looked back at the house. The shattered door, the broken windows. So much damage.

"Listen to me, fool." The big man shouted. "I will have this duel!"

Harry turned toward the man. "You did this. You killed them all."

The man laughed, a deep satisfied laugh. "My mater trusted me with this job and I have done well." He pulled the sword out of the ground. "We fight now, Potter."

How many times had he been challenged to a duel by others trying to make a name for themselves? There had been so many, so many faces that blended together. So many raw talents, trained wizards, powerful foes. He'd faced them all and he'd won. As he looked at the big man all he could think of was why fight anymore? Why not just give up? Was it all worth it?

His eyes lowered to the grass and then they snapped to a form. A small form wrapped in a blanket, soaked in crimson. The pain suddenly redoubled. Vernon. He frantically scanned the lawn, looking for the other. Where was she? Where was she?

Then he remembered. She was not at the house. She was at a birthday party. She was safe. She was still alive. He looked around and saw several Dread Knights clunking their way down the street. They were looking for her.

"Fight me, Potter!" The man cried impatiently. He had sword and buckler raised, his stance ready to attack.

Harry snarled, raising his wand. The Iron Duke suddenly began screaming. He dropped to his knees as the heavy plates of armor one by one began falling off. In moments they lay upon the grass, a discarded shell of metal, and a pale, pale man sat upon the grass with a stunned expression upon his face. Bright blue eyes stared at Harry as he approached, trying to move limbs that would not respond.

"You are nothing. You will die now and soon your master will die." Harry said, grabbing the man by the neck. He tried to squirm out of his grip but could not. Fear flashed in his eyes and Harry spoke a curse. "You deserve far worst."

Harry walked down the sidewalk, taking a moment to place Vernon with his parents and then heading out to find Angelica, a leather-bound book in his hands, ignoring the blood curdling screaming of the Iron Duke. It was a long and painful death and Harry only wished he could have made it worst.

Angelica was still alive and that was all that mattered now. He had failed Dudley and Joan and Vernon, but he would not fail her.