Chapter 7 Last Words.

Harry held his breath as Dreia's eyes snapped open. She stared blankly at the sky above for a moment and then blinked slowly looking around as if waking from a long nap. She looked first to Regulus, then the crowd, then Harry. A slow, proud smile formed on her muddy face.

"You found it," she croaked, and then coughed to clear her voice. "Good Job."

"Are you all right?" Harry asked tentatively. The hues of green and brown had left his sight again, and he was left with an empty feeling looking at her.

"Of course I am," she defended, propping herself up on her elbows wincing a little along the way. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Hairline fracture on your rib, and a concussion," Regulus answered curtly, grabbing the vials of potion roughly and handing one to her.

"Impressive," she breathed, holding out a hand to accept the potion Regulus was offering. She presented too him a large, bright grin that said what ever Harry may feel about the situation, she was more than pleased with the out come. 'That at least makes one of us'

She looked down at it warily her smile switching to a grimace and she downed the vile in gulp trying her best to sputter.

"Euuuuyhhh. That disgusting," she complained, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth as vile smell of cabbage and grains wafted it's way under Harry's' nose. "How many more?" she inquired.

"Two."

Dreia rolled her eyes and drank the rest of the potions given to her. She looked curiously around at the milling crowd and asked, "What's everyone doing out here anyway?"

"They followed me out here… I was watching your 'teaching methods,' and I may have been a little over enthusiastic to get out here." Regulus answered.

"That large a spectacle, eh?" she inquired, raising her eyebrows, gesturing toward the crowd.

Harry shifted uncomfortably and muttered, "Sorry about that…"

Dreia smiled indulgently, "If it was enough to get that lot out of their evening chairs then I'm happy. Oh Harry don't look so down, it was just a stunner…"

"Just a…?" he breathed. "I've never, never produced one so powerful. I was angry Dreia… Why did you push me like that?"

"Because, " she said with certainty, "in order to find the connection sometimes people need a bit of push... Of course that was more like a shove…"

"Dreia, wait until the potions start working, alright? Then you can talk to him," Regulus said with just enough authority to be both stern, and yet caring in the face of an unruly patient. "Sorry Harry, but she need rest for just a moment. We'll move her to the porch and then you can talk," he said glancing at Harry for a second and then looking back at Dreia too see if he'd receive argument. "How are you feeling, really?"

She cocked her head to then back again as if contemplating and shifting her limbs and screwing up her eyes. "It hurts like hell that's for sure," she admitted. "But I don't think I'll need help to the porch. It's just a broken bone and a headache," she dismissed causally, leaving Harry too wonder why exactly she was brushing all of this off so easily. He certainly wasn't. His nerves we still -although considerably less so- on edge, and he was truly ashamed of himself that he'd allowed himself to get so enraged.

Regulus muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "good" under his breath that Harry was pretty sure was a response to her first statement. Dreia scowled at him for a moment but didn't retort. She looked instead to the bustling crowd at her feet and told them all that she was fine that she would be in directly, asking them all to return to the house. "Really, there's nothing to see. I'll be fine and so will our guest. Go on. Get!"

The some of the members of the crowd laughed wished her well as the rest sauntered easily back the cabin. Regulus checked and rechecked Dreia over with pokes, prods and waves of his wand, much to her disapproval. "You're like an old women Reggie. I'm fine, really."

To prove her point she stood quick as flash, brushing of the debris off her robes and clearing her face and hair with a quick spell. There was no mistaking the grimace she made as she moved though, and Regulus shook his head disapprovingly. "You'll need that wrapped before you sleep. Promise me you'll come to me or do it yourself?" he asked.

"Of course," she said indulging him. "Thank you Reggie."

Dreia kissed him quickly on the cheek, turned to Harry with bright eyes that said she wanted nothing more to do with being fussed over and indicated that they should start moving.

The walk to the porch was a slow one. Harry could tell the Dreia was trying her best not to show him exactly how much pain she was in, but was failing miserably. It was in the stiffness of her back, the way she flinched just slightly if the hit an uneven patch of earth, the fact that this girl whom has been so light footed in the duel just minutes ago, was now walking as if to a death march. Still, she seemed to dismiss all of it looking rather deep in thought.

Although there were a good number of questions that he wanted to ask, he couldn't bring himself to speak. His Gryffindor resolve had left him and in the end he shifted his hands into his pockets and kept up with her pace. If she didn't want to burden him with her ills than Harry was more than willing not too point them out. Especially since it made him feel so bloody awful to know he was the cause of it. 'A broken bone and a headache' he thought pursing his lips together in disapproval. All of this just to teach him how to connect to the power of plants? If Neville only knew…

Harry gritted his teeth and kicked some loose stones in the grass letting his mind wander back over the duel trying to figure out just where everything went wrong. What he could of have done differently, what he could have done to stop himself changing what he felt was the unforgivable outcome. He'd swore to himself at the beginning of the summer that he'd never put someone in danger again because he'd failed to keep his emotions in check. But no matter how hard he tried to reason with himself the there was another way to go about it, some distant hindsight that would convince him that it would be different if he'd taken a breath here, or reasoned better with himself there, it all came back down to one simple fact. He'd lost his temper and control and no matter how much she'd wanted it to happen, he'd let it, and it had hurt her.

"Druids believe that everyone and everything is connected, " she began with out preamble pulling Harry rapidly our of his own musings and almost making him stop in his tracks. "A connection exists between all living things from the mitochondria in our systems to the grandest of mountains and beyond."

"Wizard kind and Muggle kind alike can tap into it, can use it to commune with the rest of nature… Talk to the plants… the animals… the elements. We can also use it to our advantage as you just demonstrated for yourself. Asking the elements for help with a spell can help amplify our own human magic as it is a type of magic in it's own right. But, it is at once more powerful, more scared than what runs in our bodies. It is part of the magic and song of the universe, and everything that it encompasses."

'Well that answers some questions,' Harry thought sardonically trying to pull himself together enough to understand what she was saying, when really it didn't.

Dreia grinned at his confused expression and spread her arms wide. "Look, look at all the is around you that is natural," she said looking around to emphasize her point, "me, you, the plants, the earth, planets, stars, everything. We are all part of the universe. The elements are simply parts of the whole. Earth, Air, Fire, Water are merely categories for what creates, nourishes and destroys life."

"But, they are also more than just categories. They are the 'spirit' the essence of the element they represent. Water for example. The element of water represents lakes, rivers, oceans, seas, and even the water in our own bodies. The element of water is the combined 'spirit' of all these things."

"When you call upon the elements, you are asking the spirit to draw from the powers of that element to help you with your spell. One of the reasons it is effective to ask for help from the element of water to cast a rain charm. Of course, as you saw when you asked the garden to help you with your stunner and to find me, it doesn't always have to be an elemental spell that you ask the elements for help with."

"If everyone has the ability to speak with nature on that level, then why don't they?" Harry asked.

Dreia answered with a shifty smile and a nod of her head. "The knowledge of how to contact the elements and have them help us is sacred. It's more than just contacting them to help with a spell, which certain. It's honoring them and all of nature. Returning the gift that we have taken. It's not just another skill to learn, it is more a way of life. To live in harmony with nature, and understand the way the universe works. Although it sounds easy enough, it takes a certain type of person to be able to reach beyond themselves and be one with these things."

"Do you believe I am this type of person?"

"After what I've seen today, I think you are. I just question why it is only now that Dumbledore would send you to us. But that's a question for another day," she amended.

It wouldn't be the first time Dumbledore had hid him away from something, Harry thought to himself. But unlike other time when he would be livid by the injustices in his life, he just couldn't muster up enough anger at yet another trick up the old man's sleeve after letting in all out during the duel.

Instead, he thought about what she has said and about the amount of power it would have taken to produce such a powerful stunner. It was, now that he thought about it, impressive.

"Will this happen every time I try to stun someone using the connection?" Harry asked quietly.

Dreia chuckled softly and replied, "I certainly don't think so. Remember when I told you that your emotions could quantify and drive magic?"

"Is that what happen? You...oh. Oh." Harry suddenly understood. "You made me angry on purpose so that I would not only realize it was there, but to drive my magic to its fullest…."

"And too show you that it's not only magic that can be amplified by emotions but elemental magic as well. And to get you in touch with the connection sooner rather than later because really, it's not that hard to do if you know what you're looking for. And too make you realize just how upset you are and that burring those feelings is no good," she agreed. "And so that you would see that it's a really good idea to deal with all of your grief before you do it someone else. And too show you what a force you'll be if you have to."

"You could take over Slytherin's head of house with all those sub-plots," Harry pointed out, carefully avoiding what she was getting at.

"Slytherin? Oh yes… Severus' house," she nodded her head remembering. "Here sit in that chair, I'll show you."

Harry walked up on to the porch and sat in one of the weather beaten rocking chairs while Dreia reached up for on the hanging herb baskets that lined the porch. She carried it over to him slowly, wincing when she took a breath making Harry shift uncomfortably.

"Cast an engorgement charm on the herb," she said holding out the basket in front of him. Harry pulled his wand out, spoke the incantation and the herb grew to twice its normal size.

"Perfect," she complimented, and with a wave of her hand the spell was reversed. "Now this time, I want you to call to the element of earth. In your mind speak clearly, strongly –but don't demand, they don't like it- and say 'Element of earth I seek your help my spell' and use the engorgement charm again on the herb.

Harry drew a long deep breath letting it spill out of him mouth freely. He closed his eyes, asking in his head for the element of earth to come and help him make the herb grow larger. He was delighted to see the recognizable vine creep its way into the back of his mind. It wasn't as strong or as wild, as it was before. It was different than the look of the garden, but Harry mentally grabbed hold anyway finally excepting that the Druids knew what they were talking about. He opened his eyes expecting to see the hues of brown and green he'd seen through earlier, but this time it was less prominent. More like everything had been dusted with the colours rather than painted with them.

"Engorgio!" he cast and the herb grew to four times its size. Harry raised his eyebrows impressed as the hues faded from his vision. "And that's how it works when I am calm…" he noted.

"When your emotions are mostly in check, yes," she smiled sitting down in the rocker beside him. "Imagine what would happen if you were as angry as you were when you sent the stunner at me. We'd have more parsley than we'd know what to do with!"

Harry smiled, but was certain it didn't meet his eyes. He stood and replaced the hanging basket now overflowing with parsley on its hook, scanning the meadow.

"So, if I'm angry, or happy even casting the a spell using the connection it will double the effect?"

"With your talent and range of emotions, if you were as angry as you were, or happy as you were angry, you could possibly supply the whole of Italy's parsley needs for six months."

"I'm not that fond of parsley," he murmured.

"Which is why you must live it, and get rid of it," she said simply.

"Make that up all by yourself, did you?" he replied dryly, crossing his arms defensively in front of him. He knew what she was going with this thread of conversation, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Harry… you're avoiding the issue."

"I'd really rather not talk about it…" he sighed.

"Tough."

Harry frowned turning to meet a set on no nonsense blue eyes.

"Look," he tried to placate, "I'm really sorry I got that upset and that I hurt you… but I'm…" he sighed and sat back down in the chair next to her. "I'm just not ready."

"Tough."

"What do you mean – tough?" he repeated, looking at her as though she'd grown an extra head.

"I mean, tough. Harry, Sirius is gone and there in nothing you can do about it except make him happy and live out the rest of your life. In order to do that, you have to out live Voldemort, and make a life for yourself. You cannot do that by wallowing in your own self-pity! Don't you think these are the things he would want?" she asked stiffly.

Harry stared at her blankly for a moment mouth slightly open trying to comprehend exactly what the hell she thought she was doing. Who gave her the right to confront him on this particularly painful subject?

"We'll never know will we?" he finally replied with sarcastic smile that quickly turned to a scowl rising from his seat. He turned to walk into the house and up to the guest bedroom, but from behind him he heard a whisper.

"Sorry?" he asked, more out of habit than actual need to know.

"Sirius was writing you this the day he died," she repeated holding out a sheet of parchment for him. "He dreamt about it."

Harry regarded the proffered parchment before him warily. "He… knew?" he whispered not daring to take his eyes off what she claimed were the supposed last words of Sirius Black.

"I found it in his bedroom while I was at #12. I nicked it to show you should you need it."

Harry sat back down in the unoccupied rocker next to Dreia slowly. He accepted the folded sheet of parchment with a tremor and held it between his hands remembering not for the first time the scent of shaggy black dog fur and the look of sunken grey eyes, closing his own and taking in a large breath of air.

"I…. Can't," he choked.

"You must."

"I…"

Harry opened his sore eyes. He'd been through so much so quickly he didn't know what to say, what to think. Emotional exhaustion threatened to consume him as his brain fought wearily to process this new horrifying scene. All he knew what the he was holding in his hands the very last thing his beloved godfather had written ever... And according to Dreia he knew he'd die when he'd written this letter. But…

"How many have read this?" he quietly asked.

"Just myself that I am aware of," she said placing a calming hand on his knee. "It's just a collection of thoughts, Harry. Nothing more."

"Why you?" Turning to face her, the corners of her mouth twitched slightly. "Why did you have to give this to me?"

"Because I'm a stranger. You owe me nothing."

Harry's thoughts raced to the night of Sirius' death and the revelation of the prophecy. "I owe you more than you think," he replied softly.

Dreia reguarded him curiously for a moment, searching for something it seemed she couldn't place.

"Death is but the next great adventure," she mused.

"Dumbledore said that."

"All the Druids say that."

Harry's eyes widened. "Dumbledore is?"

Dreia said nothing but offered a simple wink as confirmation. "I daresay you'll need a few moments. I'll go and check on dinner shall I?"

She raised herself out of the chair wincing once or twice. She walked by Harry and ruffled his hair some. "Harry, stand up," she requested.

He stood at once and was rewarded before he could blink with a tight, warm hug. At first he was exactly sure how to react, or how to respond. Human touch was still such a foreign concept to him that he felt as thought his very skin was crawling right off his body with some terrible yearning when it did happen. In the end though, he wrapped his own arms around her and buried his head in the to scent of lavender and wood feeling better for having done so.

"If your Sirius is anything like my Regulus than he'd want you to move on. The Druids believe that the soul is immortal; we go on living different lives on different planes of existence until ultimately we reach the source. Just because Sirius is not with you here, does not mean that he is not with you else ware, Harry," she whispered softly somewhere behind his ear. "How could he forget someone who obviously loved him so much? When the time is right, I'll show you."

"It's so… hard letting go… I…" he murmured, his voice breaking.

"But you must," she said squeezing him tightly once and then letting go.

She smiled brightly at him and squeezed both his arms. "You'll need a few moments, come on in when your ready."

Harry tried to smile back, but he couldn't quite make the muscles in his face work the way he wanted them to. So he settled for a grimace and nod of his head.

He looked again over the meadow and he called after her before she was half way through the door. "Dreia? What are those things anyway?"

She followed his line of sight and grinned. "Buffalo."

"Like Water Buffalo?"

"No, like American Bison," she replied, and slipped in the cabin.

Harry sat down again stared at the somewhat wrinkled parchment in his hands. He laid it in his lap and rubbed his tired eyes wondering if he dared to open it, too see what Sirius' last words of advice or comfort for him were.

He could only imagine what they were as he took a deep breath, despite it all desperate for one last vestige of his godfather and unfolded the letter.

Harry,

I had a bit of kip this afternoon, and in doing so I dreamt the strangest things.

First of all dreaming for me has been luxury I've not been afforded since the days before my unfortunate incarceration. In Azkaban the demntors don't even let you escape the harsh realities of your life in dreams. And even after my escape, I've not been able to produce even a shadow of one.

But this afternoon, dream I did and what I saw scared me, which is why I am writing this letter. A letter I might add, I hope you never get.

I dreamt I died in some horrific accident I can quite remember. But what I do remember is that because of my death you became wholly depressed, and rebellious and sought to avenge my death. I felt horrible watching you waist away to nothing because I died.

The dream was so real, so pliable, I've done nothing but pace for the past few hours in this lonely old prison trying to figure out a way to reach you, to talk to you. The dream was so real ...

Listen to me kid and listen well. I want you to know right here and now that however I die; IF I die I want you to go on. The world needs you. James and Lily did not die protecting you so that you could waste away to noth…..

Sirius Blacks last hastily written words ended right there. In ink was spattered and smudged, letters crooked and incomplete. Harry figured it was the first draft of what ever he was trying to communicate to him. He could only imagine him sitting there writing out this note while someone gave him the news that Harry and his friends were trapped at the Ministry and how upset he'd been when he wrote it.

One thing was clear though; Sirius was horrified at the prospect of Harry being upset about his death. He didn't want Harry to be depressed and downhearted at his passing. He would want Harry to move on…

Harry let out a long weighty sigh. It was all find and dandy for Sirius to want him to move on, but what about Harry? Did he even want to move on?

Harry's red-rimmed eyes that matched the color of the horizon and setting sun finally tore away from the last words written by his godfather and stared blankly at the meadow.

'Yes,' he decided. Tired of the pain he tried so hard to bury. Tired of the second-guessing about that night and what he could have done differently. But how could he? How could he give the man that had meant so much to him up?

Harry's heart settled in his stomach and his bones filled with undeniable sadness that made ache just to move. He stared out at the meadow that was bathed in the red and oranges and typical rapidly approaching summer sunset wondering what would be like to live that type of peace? To know the rest and comfort of the very nature that surrounded him. Too be free of the world's burdens and death. Too have a free Sirius laughing and making some ridiculous gesture at the mildly grazing beasts of the meadow and try to heard them all in his animagius form.

'Sirius'

He thought if he looked hard enough long enough he could see his godfather doing those very things, romping around freely amongst the flora and fauna. He could see his shaggy mane of hair, his handsome appearance and the looks of approval and love he'd often craved but never received until the man walked into his life.

Harry's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he refolded the note and stuck it into the pocket of his jeans. He had no idea where he'd go from here, but one thing was for certain… he would go.

'I miss you Sirius'

He sat back in the old rocker and watched the fading light for sometime, thinking about what little good time's he'd had with the man, and even more of the bad. He thought about all he owed this one man who for only two short years had such profound effect on him. On how much he wished he could tell him how much he meant to him.

The sun sank lower and lower over the mountains while he sat there reminiscing. All traces of the chaotic last few days sweeping away into oblivion while he remembered a man name Sirius Black.

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A/N. So here it is. I've written, re-written, this chapter and somehow managed to turn it into two. Finally.

Hopefully this answered a few of your questions and concerns about Harry reaching the connection so quickly.

Moving on…

Frustrated. It was over the top and a mass of emotions on purpose just as this chapter ended up being. Dreia explains why in this chapter. Remember also the Harry is an emotional wreck at the end of OotP. I am attempting to swiftly move him past that.

SheWho'sNameMustBeHyphanated. It wasn't planned that way, but it certainly turned out that way, didn't it? There won't be anymore for a while, so thank you so much for your review and I hope you enjoy the rest of the show!

And as always…

I own nothing, JK's the Goddess with the copyrights. Please Review!