Chapter 18

"Oh, bloody hell." Ron muttered under his breath as he pulled his leg out from the fourth hidden slush puddle that morning and glared down at his tanned boot that was finally letting the water leak in. Then he glared at the offending puddle on the ground. Honestly, you'd think after two months of traipsing around in the wild he'd learn where to step and not step by now, and this weather change was making for all sorts of hidden water traps. He sighed and stepped away, heading off on his hike once more. It was just over halfway through May, and the weather was now warming even in the mountains, melting snow slowly and creating little puddles of water that hid under thin ice, just waiting for Ron to come and step in them. The problem with snow is that you couldn't kill it; even boiling it just released the vapours into the air to plague him in the future.

He pushed through a dense cluster of trees and walked at a quicker pace when they finally spread out. The branches weren't so low here, and as summer hadn't officially hit this level of the mountain yet he didn't have to worry about ground coverings. He looked around carefully, noting the way certain trees were shaped so he could remember them in the future. He hadn't been this far away from his lodgings yet and was being cautious, you never knew what was around the corner and he had nowhere to go if he needed help. In all honesty being in the woods like this made him edgy, he liked animals but held a healthy fear of them, especially since most in these woods liked to try and eat him. He rubbed his right hand along the lower sleeve of his left arm, the raised scar of his rough sewing in the material matched one underneath on his flesh. He still didn't know what it was that attacked him, it had been so quick, but it hadn't come back and he was glad for it.

As it were his hikes (or territorial wanderings if you prefer) were carrying him further and further from landmarks that he recognized everyday. He had been walking all day now, in as straight a line as he could manage with all the steep hills, streams, game trails and bush that he had to go around to avoid. He also avoided most open areas for fear of being spotted by a dragon visiting from the high mountains, out looking for lunch. Oh he knew he could escape quickly enough, but Charlie had told him how some dragons, once aware of elusive prey wandering around, would hunt for weeks until it found it. Ron didn't fancy being prey. He also knew that though the creatures could be enormous, they could also be as silent as bats and have him in their jaws before he could say pickled pumpkins.

Looking ahead he saw that the trees seemed to stop abruptly, and as he reached the end of them he saw why. The wind that had been fairly strong throughout the day suddenly whipped into a frenzy as he stepped onto the open ledge of a cliff that dropped eighty feet below him, blowing his hair into his eyes annoyingly as he tried to appreciate the beauty of the scene laid out before him. Magnificent, it was definitely better then the last cliff he had found, though a sight more dangerous. If he had been fearful of heights it might have terrified him, but after years of flying on a broom and one terrifying evening on an invisible Thestral Ron had overcome any such fear (though his mother would have been dismayed at knowing that, if she still considered him a part of the family). He stood looking out at the sinking sun as it began casting a deep red-purple hue on the cirrus clouds that wisped across the sky, and he frowned to himself.

It would be light for another hour, maybe an hour and a half, which meant he couldn't risk being out here much longer, but that meant he had to go back to his shelter where there was nothing to do but think, and thinking was something he was avoiding at all costs. Day and night he focused on survival (which wasn't easy in a place like this), distracting himself as much as possible with singular exploration, a rare trip into one town or another for supplies, and working himself to the bone building his shelter. It was almost completed now, not really needing a lot of architectural genius on his part, and that was why he was finally exploring the countryside more.

He stared at the mountains in the distance, seeing a speck no larger than a grain of sand in the sky, no doubt it was a dragon out looking for an evening meal, marking his territory. He didn't think it would approach his position, but he'd be sure to keep an eye out tonight just in case. Dragon's normally kept to themselves unless aggravated or hungry, and they rarely liked to leave their chosen nesting areas. A tiny giggle materialized behind him and he looked over his shoulder a moment to acknowledge the owner of the voice and her companion, smiling faintly at them. He hadn't seen them for four days, when he had impolitely told them to bugger off before he used them as fishing bait.

The two fairies had been with him almost from the day he apparated into these mountains. He'd been scouting a location to put up a shelter when they had flown right into his chest, knocking him flat on his arse. He'd had no idea that they could be so…forceful. The two of them had then proceeded to jump from one knee to the other and yell at him (though he had no idea what they were saying), eyes flashing in their respective colours. Apparently they were not happy with him up and leaving them like he had, and it had taken them this long to figure out where he was and catch up (though he had no idea how they did it). He had thought the charm he'd placed on himself in Hogwarts worked on all manner of magical creatures. He had been wrong.

He remembered saying sorry, telling them he had no idea they had wanted to follow him, and politely asked them to let him get up out of the snow. They had let him up, but not until pointing at themselves in turn and stating their names earnestly. The male, whose eyes had stopped glowing their angry red and muted to a friendlier golden hue, called himself Hornblend. His companion (whose eyes glowed a radiant orange when angry) called herself Howlite. The names were odd, but he didn't dare say so, seeing as he didn't want to upset the little guys. Over the last two months he had simply begun calling them Howly and Horns (which sometimes became Horny when Ron felt playful (though that was rare) or irritated), to which they were apparently delighted and danced around giddily whenever being called. He didn't understand a word they said, but they understood him just fine and he was becoming fluent in their method of charades. In all honesty, having them around helped him, seeing as they were the ones who found him a place to set up shop, and their antics kept things interesting. They were very distracting.

"Good te see ya." He called and was delightedly surprised when they landed on his head and began playing in his absolutely horrible new hair cut. Two days before he had become fed up with the coppery red strands tickling his cheeks and falling into his eyes, so he had fixed it. Well, fixed was a relevant term he supposed, as he hadn't had any mirror to go by or a set of scissors. He used a puddle for his reflection and a small (but sharp) knife he had picked up on one of his three trips to towns for supplies. His hair had never been the kind that fell flat, and now it stuck off his head in all manner of directions. He had thought it looked quite like Harry's black mop had been, jutting in all directions. Then thinking of his lost friend had depressed him and he had ignored his hair since then. His little friends seemed to like it though.

"Ow! Hey, it's attached ye know, try to leave it that way." They left his strands alone and went to sit on his shoulder instead and together they watched the sun set slowly, the wind whipping around them and the two fairies hung on tightly. The speck in the distance had disappeared a long time ago as darkness descended and the temperature dropped even more. He decided, seeing as he wasn't doing anything important, that he should head back and settle for the night. He looked to his companions who were staring intently down at the forest that lay spread below them. He looked down as well, but didn't see anything. They often stopped and stared at things, and half the time he thought they just stared for the hell of staring, or playing a joke on him to see if he'd bite. Right, well he wasn't in the mood for that this evening.

"Right, I'm heading back. I'll see you there." Horns suddenly twirled around and flew at him, grabbing his sleeve and trying to tug him over to where they had just been. He glared at him. "I'm not in the mood for playing yer games right now. The shadows are out and they're making me nervous. Lay off." They weren'y listening to him though as Howly joined her mate and they both tugged earnestly. Well, this was new, they had never been so insistent that he look at something. He stopped just at the edge of the cliff and peered over, glimpsing the trees below and seeing nothing but the shadows they cast, obscuring their shapes.

"Right…trees. I'm going back now." Horns's eyes flared red in the darkness, making him look more like a mini demon then a creature of light, and he pointed down insistently. Ron glared at him.

"I don't see anything down there." He told them and the fairy glared. Howly was still pulling at his sleeve and he carefully swatted her off. "If you pull me any further I'm goin' te fall off the cliff, and that's not something I plan on doing any time soon."

Hornblend flew a foot away from his face, pointed at Ron and then threw his arms and legs out wide, as though he were exploding, and pointed down into the forest way below. Ron looked at him incredulously.

"You want me to apparate down there? I thought you two didn't want me dead." Horny glared and Howly joined him, her hands on her hips. They were serious. Ron looked over the cliff again and frowned. Sure, he could see all right in the dark, better then the average wizard now, but he still couldn't see as clear as in daylight and there was no moon casting any light to aid his vision. There could be any number of dangerous creatures down there. Then his right arm flared hot as his whip (which he had aptly named Whip) warmed up in sudden urgency. He could feel the sudden agitation in the magical weapon, as though it had just realized what the fairies already knew. It bloody hurt!

"All right! Lay off! I'll apparate down there, and you three had better have a bloody good reason." Any mental ward would have a field day with him; listening to fairies and talking to supposedly inanimate objects that attached themselves to his arm, for no apparent reason, was not the sign of a sane man. He flicked his wrist and felt the whip immediately uncoil from around him, falling to the ground and becoming solid in his grasp, as it should. Then he apparated.

He was immediatly immersed in a thick set of brush, the snow still deep under their shelter, and he crouched down low, waiting for the fairies to show up. He held Whip at the ready, sensing the awareness of the weapon through the palm of his hand and looking cautiously around him for any signs of danger. He slowly undid the top few buttons of his jacket, giving his shoulders a bit more room, he pulled his dark scarf over his face and then willed his hair to turn black. He had discovered that he could change his hair and eye colour at will now, but he rarely did so, hating his reasons for having this new skill and also because whenever he changed it, it turned back to his normal colour after only an hour. The only other times he'd used it was on his two trips into Romanian towns, and once he had forgotten to keep it turned, which caused quite a stir to those around him. He wasn't ever going back to that place.

Howly suddenly appeared, her natural glow had been dimmed drastically to hide her in the night (for fairies disliked being out in the dark as much as Ron, seeing as they were so easy to spot) but not completely. She looked at him and then headed off in the northern direction. He suppressed a sigh and silently followed her, hating the fact that Giles's training in stealth was actually useful. They moved along for half an hour and Ron was beginning to get fed up when the atmosphere around him seemed to suddenly shift, becoming oppressive and dark. He sensed anger in his whip as it flared to an almost unbearable level of heat again and he hissed softly at it in warning before heading on. After a few minutes he could hear laboured breathing; laboured breathing that sounded as though it belonged to a really large animal. He stopped immediately as he came upon a very small clearing and looked carefully into it, sucking in a fearful breath at what he saw. The clearing wasn't natural, it had been created when the giant beast had crashed into it, felling the few trees that now lay scattered around. Ron looked at the heavily breathing dragon, but didn't make any effort to follow Howly to it. He could see Horns glowing over its head, moving about slowly. The giant creature let out a pitiful whine and Ron actually, Merlin help him, felt bad for it.

"Stop it, or I'm not going anywhere near it." He hissed, angry by Whip's sudden loss of control as he hurt Ron again. Honestly, the pain from the bangle was enough, he didn't need this weapon hurting him any more. He felt a sort of apologetic emotion from the tool and the heat once again became bearable, but there was still anger simmering within it. He ignored it and surveyed the scene, paying no attention to Howlite as she tried to pull him to the beast.

It was dying, that much he could tell. It had massive gash marks along its ribs that were slowly seeping blood; he could see bone. Its right leg was bent at an unnatural angle, its wings were sticking out on its other side, lying limp against the trees around him. Though Ron could see its back, he suspected the damage there was just as severe as on its front. It wasn't going to be able to hurt him. Cautiously he left the shelter of the trees, heading towards its head, where Horns was. The creature was large, though it was far from the biggest dragon Ron had ever seen. It was maybe the size of one of them African elephants. He made sure he wasn't completely silent as he strode around, so as to alert the animal of his presence. The fairies were both standing on its snout now, petting it and cooing softly, there was a very thin trickle of smoke coming from one nostril with every exhale. As he got close enough the animals glazed brown eye focused on him, its snorting increasing a bit. It tried to lift its head but couldn't even get it an inch off the ground. It was a pitiful thing to witness, such a magnificent creature brought down to this.

"S'okay, I'm not gonna hurt you." He calmly announced, crouching down as he got to the head. He saw that the jaws on its long snout had parted, the thick tongue lying motionlessly on the ground in a tiny pile of blood. The poor thing was in so much pain as it tried to track his movements, its breathing laboured as it occasionally twitched. He looked at the fairies, not understanding why he needed to be here, to witness this. They stopped their cooing and stood, watching him pleadingly a moment before Horns stepped away from his mate and raised his right arm, pointing it at her. She pretended to collapse and lay still on the brown snout. Ron backed away a step in horror.

"No, I can't do that! I haven't…it…" he trailed off, looking at them with his own look of pleading. He hadn't used his chanelling abilities on another living creature since Tonks; he was terrified of using it. He told himself that the only way he'd steal the energy from another being that wasn't passing it off into the atmosphere, was for his own protection. Too many lives had already been ruined or lost by his hand. Whip warmed up again, encouragingly, and he looked down at it in confusion. How the hell could he feel its emotions, how had it known that a dragon was down here?

The dragon cried out and shuddered, Ron flinched, feeling the guilt rising. He could end it's suffering, but he didn't want to with out its consent, he wouldn't. It didn't matter that it was just a dragon, they were intelligent Charlie had said, had feelings and such as any pet they'd ever had. Ron stepped closer and looked into its unblinking eye. How could he figure out what the creature truly wanted? Suddenly Howlie fluttered down and grasped Whips tail, dragging the cord up and carefully placing it on the thick neck of the animal, where it wrapped around on its own accord, much like it did to Ron every time he wasn't using it. He was about to drop the whip when it swathed through his fingers, once again physically binding to him, and he gasped as he suddenly felt a portion of the pain the dying animal was in.

He could feel Whip explaining Ron's intentions to the dragon, and the dragon blinked at him, its glazed eyes seemed to widen in understanding and then, one of the most bizarre things Ron would ever experience happened (and he was the first to admit that a lot had, indeed, happened to him); he was feeling the dragons emotions through the whip, he could feel its pulse, its fear, its worry and its relief at knowing it wouldn't have to wait any longer to escape the pain. Ron was in communication with the dragon, and it was asking him to end its life. He choked and then slowly fell to his knees by her head, staring into her massive eye. Bloody hell, why him? He looked at the whip laced through his fingers and gently pulled it off of her.

"I need to put you down, I don't know if I'll hurt you while I do this." He whispered. For the first time in two months the whip allowed him to remove it from his body. It was odd, he suddenly felt a bit colder. He looked at the fairies. "You two, stay behind and don't interfere." Howlite flew up and kissed him solemnly on the cheek and then flew behind him with Horns.

He let out a slow breath and gently placed his hand on his dragon's cheek. He'd never touched a dragon before, she was warm and leathery. He honestly wasn't sure how many dragons had ever willingly been touched by a human. He placed his other hand to the ground, somehow knowing that that was the best way to channel the energy in and out of him, and then he began. It took a few minutes as he worked slowly, letting the animal drift to sleep and feeling her considerably weakened energies pass through his arms and into the earth. He ignored the slicing pain in his wrist and didn't move at fraction. When he felt the last of her spirit travel through him he jerked away roughly, loosing the calmness he had maintained for her.

He twisted around and retched the little food he'd eaten that morning onto the ground and then curled in on himself.

"Don't…touch me." He ordered weakly, knowing the two fairies were coming to help him. They listened, staying back with Whip and watching him. Enjoy the show he thought bitterly, because he wasn't doing that again any time soon. It was one thing to take life in the spur of the moment, it was another to slowly leach it out. He wondered if Harry might have preferred to die this way, slowly and painlessly, rather then having it grabbed in an instant of painful shock and then just cease to exist. Tears swelled in his eyes but wouldn't fall. Harry wouldn't have wanted to die at all he thought and tremors began to shake his entire frame.

Harry would have had the Death Eater kill him rather then his best friend. Harry wouldn't have killed anyone in the first place. Ron should never have been given these powers, Harry should have gotten them, he was the strong one. He would have known how to use them and not hurt people, he wouldn't have killed Ron, he would have still been alive! Ron sobbed dryly, letting all his hate and pain and frustration fill him. He didn't care that he was in the middle of dangerous grounds lying beside a bloody dead dragon that would no doubt be attracting carnivores. He didn't care that he couldn't fully give into the sorrow that he fought against every day. He was back with Harry, watching him die. He was back in Giles's dungeon, wishing for death. He was stuck. He was Ron, he was a chaneller, and he was a bloody murderer. Damnit he wanted his family and friend back!

Slowly he pulled himself together, feeling weak and miserable from the channeling and his emotional release. He sat up and wiped at his eyes, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. Horns and Howly were watching him carefully, holding each other and gazing at him with sorrow filled eyes. Well really, what the hell did they expect asking him to do something like this! He swooped down and grabbed Whip, shoving it into his pocket, where it surprisingly stayed. It seemed that none of them had realized just how much asking him to help would have bothered him. Good, maybe they'll think twice next time.

He looked back at the dragon, her eye was closed and she was resting peacefully, but the heavy sensation of darkness still enveloped the area. Something was very wrong with this place. She had obviously sustained her injuries due to a fight with another (no doubt larger) dragon, but it wasn't common for a dragon to maim another and then leave it to die alone. If it was territorial then the dragon would have made sure it was dead, and it obviously wasn't a fight for food. The fact that it was a she meant that it wasn't a battle for breeding rights or dominance. It felt dark, it felt like this was a battle created by forces other then natural instinct. But, whatever it was it wasn't his problem. He turned his back once again, glad that she was no longer suffering but hating that he had killed her.

He was going to head back into the forest, away from the dark energies that surrounded the place, and then hopefully he would have enough energy to apparate home. He didn't make it far though, when a soft snort and the sounds of heavy waddling footsteps reached his ears, coming from behind him. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his whip, and turned to face his new danger, only to halt in amazement. It looked like momma dragon hadn't simply been fighting for her own life. A baby dragon, no bigger then Fang had been last Ron had seen him, was staring at him out of wide, lost eyes.

"Well, hello."

TBC

Lol Harry Lvr. I've never seen Russle Coight, but I have seen Steve Irwin (though I don't know if you feel about his show) and I think he's fantastic! Ain't she a beauty! Oh, and I am planning a trip to Australia some point in my live (looks dreamly towards the sky) so we'll see how my stalker instincts kick in then.

Scribhneoir, I'm glad you like how his characters progressing. I wanted to try and find a balance between his insecurities and the potential I see for his character.

Thank you all again for being such die hard readers! And in the words of Kamonkey: U ROC!

(Oh, and I know there's a whole lot of you out there reading this, so I hope you're enjoying and I am going to wait patiently for your large and opinionated reviews when it's complete ;) Yeah, you know who you are :)

Next Update: August 28, 2005