Chapter Eight - Master Of Death, Master Of The Dead?
Next morning Harry was again up before sunrise. He had not been a morning person before, not really. But it was very energizing to be up at this hour. He sat outside the tent, watched the sun rise above the grassy ocean and drank tea from his cute periwinkle blue cup. Mrs Weasley had once said that if one managed to see a sunrise, then you should make a wish and it would happen. Hermione had agreed but she had said it was also a muggle belief and something to do with angels. Harry figured if it was something that was known in both worlds, it had to have a seed of truth.
He contemplated for a while about what to wish for. He thought of wishing to see his friends again, he would like to see them all happy. He would like to be happy himself. Then he remembered his life a week earlier, how hectic and overly cautious it had been. He sighed.
"I wish… I wish we could all just be happy," Harry whispered into the quiet morning. "I wish my friends could stop worrying about me." Then again, he was one to talk. He had worried about them above all else.
The whole world was filled with dewdrops that shone in the sun. It was still a bit nippy but as the day would grow older, it would get comfortably warm. Harry felt a bit giddy and eager to get moving already.
He gulped down the rest of his tea and begun to put his things together. He had sort of given up on remembering the right runes to fold the tent. He would probably remember them as soon as he forgot to try. Now he simply pointed his wand at everything and they turned tiny enough for him to pack them up. It was great to have a wand again. There was nothing wrong with wandless magic but he really hadn't used it that much before. Magic was magic, it was simply easier to guide it with a wand. Even the elder wand. Packing up was easy since he didn't really have that much stuff. Oh the woes of magical camping. Not having a bedside table with a lamp.
Harry snickered. He really was complaining over nothing. Besides, he decided the miniature things were pretty fun as he watched his table horse around with the chairs. It seemed the constant use of magic on them made them a little bit sentient.
In half an hour he was on the road again. He had decided to walk for a while. He felt anxious and this would be a good way to use that energy. Also, he didn't want anyone to see him on a broom. No matter that there would hardly be anyone on this side of the river. And using magic was a huge no no. He didn't dare risk stumbling upon more Nazguls.
He knew there was an ancient bridge, The Bruinen bridge, down south but he was planning on crossing the river much more north. He thought the river was still called Hoarvell at this point but it might just as well be The Bruinen. He couldn't really say for sure from the elf's memories. He had decided that should the opporturnity present itself, he would really want to visit a library in this country. If there was any. He was pretty sure at least the elves were writing history down. It was a wholly different thing if he wanted to visit their library.
At noon and after eating a small snack, Harry had changed his mind and hopped on his broom. He really wished he could've mastered the apparition here but it was no use. But now he just wanted to fly, to feel the wind and sunshine on his skin and get some more speed.
An hour after that he had finally arrived at the river. It was huge! Almost as wide as Anduin had been.
Harry thought of going even norther but that would really just take more time. He could just as easily cross the river here, no matter how fast flowing and wide it was. He was going to fly so it wouldn't matter.
Just to be on the safe side, Harry cast water repelling charms on everything. Then he mounted his broom and kicked off.
It really wasn't that difficult. His Potter Plough was smoothly flyi... "Not now!" Harry yelped as his broom begun drifting downwards and was slowly losing momentum.
"Get up! Get up you bloody pile of twigs!" Harry smacked his broom which did absolutely nothing to help the situation.
He thought of what to do. He had to do something otherwise the river would just gobble him up.
"Repulso!" He shouted while aiming his hand towards the river. There was a huge splash while he went soaring towards the sky. There was a moment there when he was higher than he had ever been here. He could see everything. The view was pretty impressive. His broom hovered for a few seconds, and then he plummeted back down again much faster than before.
He had just a few seconds before hitting the water so he tried to focus on his broom and chanted the hovering charm. There was a slight chance it would boost the failing charm on the broom.
It was sort of useless when he plunged into the river and it was sort of success when he popped right back up and the broom leveled at nine feet and continued on its way happily.
"Great, just great. Do I have to get soaked in every river there is?" Harry muttered and didn't dare to cast a drying charm right now. It might just cause the broom to malfunction. After getting on the other side he felt like he was not dripping that much. In any case, the sun would dry him out.
~o~
It had to be afternoon when Harry stopped. He still hadn't cast a single tempus spell here. Time really didn't matter anyways.
But he was regretting of not stopping and drying himself properly. He had been right when he predicted rain in the morning. Well, more like a drizzle.
"Achoo!" He sneezed. Everywhere seemed to hurt and his nose was runny.
"Jus' gread." Harry was absolutely miserable when he was trying to warm himself up. He had put up his tent, a little shoddily as it was tilted to left but he just didn't have any energy to care. He had a fire in his stove and he had dragged his bed next to it. Currently he was laying under three blankets and still he was shivering.
He had a nice hot mushroom soup in the kettle. It was mostly conjured up, not that it mattered because he couldn't taste anything. He had cast a healing charm on himself, unfortunately it seemed Pomfrey had known what she was talking with the pepper up potion.
"Maybe I co – atchoo – giv' id ago," Harry pondered. "Might 'et id right. Mighd ged poison. Hmm... Choises, ch – atchoo – "
Harry sneezed into a napkin that after his sneeze was the size of a blanket. "Oops, mite be bedder to jus' leave id." This flu obviously made his magic a bit wonky.
Miserable, Harry burrowed deep under his bedding and slept the day away restlessly.
~o~
Next morning was long since passed when Harry finally woke up. He felt as strong as a kitten. His soup had become mush and dried out. He was really thankful for magic now when he called a cup into his hands and it instantly filled with steaming hot tea.
"Mmmm, dis is nice," he sipped his tea while planning on what to do now. He was in no shape to walk or even fly, yet he didn't want to be a day or two behind. He had never had a simple flu this awful.
"I god id!" He finally rasped as a solution came to him and instantly moaned. He had a headache as big as a mountain.
An hour later Harry was still happily lazing the day away in his bed. His tent and rest of his things were packed in his bag. Just his bed and blankets were left out. The bed wobbled a bit but otherwise it was smooth going with all four its feet charmed to act as legs. It had been a bit bumpy at first but once the rocky ground was left behind, the bed seemed eager to act as a carriage. Harry had just pointed a direction of where to go and cast a small notice-me-not charm. He really couldn't explain this away. Before long, his fever and stress during the past week finally overcame him and as the bed bobbed on, Harry slept deeply curled up around a pillow.
Later that same day Harry had to admit that maybe it would've been better if he had stayed awake the whole time but it was so easy to fall in sleep when you were sick, warm, getting fresh air and the bed was swinging so softly. Perhaps the bed had thought itself a sheep or a cow because it seemed to have stopped to graze at some point. The grass kept on vanishing but Harry couldn't figure out how or where to.
"Whoa," he decided to try and get up a bit, it just seemed his feet weren't ready yet. "I need something to eat. Eat. Eeaattt. YES! I can talk again." Harry smacked his lips together and couldn't help but laugh.
Being able to say your t's was enough cause for a celebration so Harry made a bowl of chicken broth and a ham sandwich with extra thick ham slices.
While he was there and watched the scenery, he realized that he had, or his bed had found the Greenway. It was just down the hill. From up here he could see the clear curve in the woods where they had been hacked off. The road twisted between the hills and towards north.
"Good bed," Harry patted his wooden headboard. The bed wiggled.
After finishing his meal, he took his wand and directed the bed downhill towards the road.
It really wasn't. A road that is. And he wasn't likely to come across anyone anytime soon unlike he had hoped. The Greenway was like its name said. Very Green. So green in fact that it was hard to see the road from the grass. It was obvious that this way was no longer used or at least not very often. It still led to the right direction of course and nothing would prevent Harry from travelling by it but he wouldn't meet any men for a while still. He was a bit disappointed.
~o~
Harry was bored. He was feeling much better, so much so, that he tried a little sky diving. That really didn't work from the heights his broom could climb. He tried figure flying which was fun for a while. He made eight's and pretended to be in a sea and ride the waves. Then he played a game of nabbing the flowers.
The Greenway was a bit spooky. It looked so inviting, so green and light. It looked like someone should live alongside it but now that he was on it, it felt like a ghostway. When that night came, Harry added some serious repelling wards around his tent. He figured that it didn't matter if he was imagining the boogie men or not, his gut feeling was usually worth to listen to.
He laid awake longer than normal, listening to the sound of the woods. He knew he was as safe as he could possibly be. He had spent an hour on the wards. He had a fire going outside the tent though no one could see it. He had lighted it when it had gotten dark. He just didn't want to be alone. On a rational side he knew there was less to be afraid here than during other days in his journey. He had slept without any wards on a meadow that was directly in the path of orcs! Yet he couldn't help but want some light around him. His heart was thundering.
"Soon I'm going to start checking if I have something under my bed," Harry whispered and drew his blanket over his head. He closed his eyes, turned, twisted around, molded his pillow, turned again. He peeped from under his blankets and sighed. Then he rolled sideways and peeked under his bed. There was nothing there.
Next morning it was as if there had been nothing to feel fear about. Birds were singing and sun was shining. Yet Harry couldn't help the spike of relief when he saw hills up ahead. That meant that he was getting close to the Barrow Downs.
He kept his speed up to reach the hills that day and himself under a notice-me-not charm just in case he would stumble upon some other travelers.
~o~
Harry had plenty of time before sunset when he reached the first hill. He hadn't even eaten supper yet. But it was about time that he would.
He dismounted his broom and picked up his miniature table from his bag. He returned it to real size as well as one chair. Then with a flick of his wrist he had a sharp knife on his hand. A pile of peeled potatoes appeared on the table and a pan.
Harry swiftly cut the potatoes in cubes. Snape would probably be furious if he knew where a Potter used his potion making skills. After the potatoes, Harry added some sliced carrots and other vegetables, then he cut up two pieces of sausage. Then he poured in broth to cover it all and made a small fire to boil it all warm.
He ate his soup with gusto. Newly conjured warm bread and cold milk was really good when he was hungry. He packed up with what was left. A nap would've been great at that point but Harry decided that maybe he could keep his eyes open for a little longer.
He didn't really know what awaited him in the Barrows. The elves had not tracked there. Neither had the orc visited there. He got a different feeling from the place that what the southern Greenway had been. This was more serious.
His broom also seemed out of sort. It kept swerving and dipping the whole time. After passing the third hill, Harry decided that it needed some rest. He had used it a lot in the last few days. He could very well trek this evening. His plan was to head to the town of Bree which should be the biggest village on this side of Misty Mountains if you didn't count the harbors. It was also the western most trade spot for men seeing their race mostly lived in the southern planes and around the place called Gondor.
"Perhaps that is why this road is disused," Harry tried to figure it all out. He would really like to read some history books of this place. This land was so vast and so few lived in it despite it having a very long history.
~o~
Harry was already searching for a place where he could spent the night when he saw a shimmer of light that was around a mile ahead. It was beginning to get foggy and the place was giving him the creeps. There was someone following him. He had imagined seeing a thin stick figure at times and then he saw shadows. This light ahead might mean real people, so he decided he should investigate.
Harry walked around the hill ahead and then sneaked upwards to hide behind a huge rock. He could hear mumbling and quiet talking.
When he peeked from his hiding place, he could see three men sitting around a small fire. There were two horses tied up behind them. The men looked cold, one of them was trying to keep his hands closer to the fire and rubbed them together.
Two of them looked a bit alike, so Harry figured they could be brothers. The last one, who was coldest and shivering a little, had lighter hair and it almost looked like straws were stuck to his head. So dry and brittle, sticking up here and there.
"Er's givin me the creeps," the willowy looking man said.
"Don't worry, Matty, we'll be on our way in the morning' an' leave these cursed hills behind us," the bigger brother answered. It was obvious he was trying to look tough but that didn't do much because he still looked over his shoulder somewhat nervously.
"We 'ad to come through 'ere," the younger of the brothers said. "'Dis the shortest way to south."
The older brother looked around. "I didn't think it would be this way. I would've taken us another route but we'll make it through tonight and continue morrow early on."
"I – I think I saw something," the thin man, Matty, said. "Not trying to scare or play around. I dink we're not alone."
"Dis was burial ground in history," the younger brother grunted. "Or so a story told when I was just a lad."
"It was not so many months ago than you were just a lad brother," the older smirked.
"Now boys, no horse play. If it weren't so dangerous to travel by night we would. Now we have to sit and watch the fire. They say the wrights fear it."
"Luck is not on our side then," one of the brothers stated. "Most of the wood is damp."
Harry watched them for a while. Simply enjoying the knowledge of seeing someone like him here. He was curious to know more of them. He sent his magic to shift around the men. It was easy, seeing as they were scared, disorganized and didn't have a single drop of magic in them. Actually none of the men had ever even seen a wizard.
Harry sighed but decided to stick around for a bit. He didn't think it would go over well if he just came out of the fog. The men were simple but seemed strong and their blades sharp. He wouldn't win anything if he introduced himself only to have to obliviate them a moment later. Though it would've been fun to talk with someone at least.
~o~
After an hour or so, Harry had heard more rowdy jokes than during his five years in Gryffindor dormitory. Granted they had been kids back then. He was glad he hadn't shown himself to these men. Not that they were evil or bad, just restless and somewhat desperate. They came from north of Bree where the year had not been good. Desperate people did desperate things at times. It seemed, from what Harry gathered from their surface thoughts, that these men had crossed a limit somewhere. They had lived so thin for so long their ethics had blurred. Funny thing was these men were usually those you didn't want to meet in a dark alley. Here in the Barrows they were jumpy as mice.
Not that they didn't have a reason to. Harry noticed that for some reason Matty seemed to have a couple of spirits hanging around him. It had taken him a while to notice them but being the master of death or more likely master of dead, brought a few perks. If you wanted to call it that.
Harry wasn't sure why the spirits were hanging around the man. Had Matty had them for long or was it this place that had lured them there. He guessed it was his first because it seemed the spirits were bored. They were hardly there. Harry had to squint a bit to see them. First he had thought they were just mist.
The spirits were sort of funny. There was a young girl with piglets, an old man obsessed with his pipe and a boy. The boy was older than the girl. The man sat the furthest away, smoking pipe. The smoke from it made seeing the spirits all the harder. Harry couldn't get a good look at him. The teenage boy was always hovering over Matty, mimicking whatever the man said. The little girl found it all very funny. She was clutching the hem of her skirt and buried her face in it from time to time.
When the three real travels were making their beds, Harry decided to try and have a word with the spirits. The older brother was the first to keep watch while Matty and the willow man slept. Unfortuntely for Harry, his quarry was the one with bad blood circulation and such slept closest to the fire.
"Dormio," Harry whispered, although he didn't know why he bothered. The older brother was already blinking sleepily. When the spell hit him, he was knocked backwards and begun snoring.
Harry walked to sit next to Matty. The spirits didn't seem that interested in him. They weren't really ghosts and he still couldn't see them any better now that he was practically standing next to them. Nor were they tied to this man, not really. They could still remain here even after Matty passed.
"Where do you come from?" Harry asked quietly from the little girl sitting on the ground.
The girl didn't acknowledge Harry in any way.
"Er..." Harry thought of what to do. He wasn't interested in the men anymore but he did want to know what these spirits were. They could be magical. "Hi!"
As the girl still remained unmoving, Harry poked her. He didn't expect her to feel so solid. She looked like he could just blow her away.
The girl shrieked.
"Sorry, sorry. I mean no harm," Harry back-pedaled and lifted his hands up. "Just wanted to chat a bit and they're," he pointed at the trio of men. "Asleep already." He gave the girl what he hoped to be an honest smile.
She came closer to him and tried to poke him back. Unfortunately or fortunately her fingers just vanished without Harry feeling a thing. He sort of preferred it that way.
Harry hadn't noticed it but the other two spirits had immediately come closer when he had begun to talk to the girl.
"You can see her, laddi?" The old man with the pipe asked from behind Harry.
It was Harry's turn to shot up and muffle his scream. Very manlish scream of course.
"Don't sneak up on me like that," he wheezed. "You could kill someone like that."
"Aye, but yer don't have to worry about that for a few decades boy," the old man smarted back.
That was when Harry remembered, again, that he was tiny and looked like a five year old.
"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his head. Uncomfortable. "But it still stands."
"You can... you really can see and hear us? Right?" The teen age boy asked eagerly. "Honorian, he really can! Do you know what this means?"
"Shush up boy," the old man chided.
"But Honory, he can!" The little girl said, as self-assuredly as a girl her age could.
"Yeah, I really can," Harry confirmed and smiled at the girl. "Do you mind telling me where you are from and what are you doing here like... like... well, as you are?"
"Don't really see how it is any of your business..." Honorian answered at the same time the boy begun explaining; "We had no idea. I woke up far from my village..."
They both shut up the same time, both glowering at each other.
"They just found me!" The girl piped up.
The boy gave the old man a pleading look. "We can tell him... where's the harm really?"
The old man closed his eyes and took a deep breath of his pipe. Although Harry couldn't really see if it was lighted or not. Or if it even could be.
Then the old man nodded and pointed both of the children to go and sit behind him.
"Whats yer name boy?" The man asked.
"Harry, I'm Harry."
"Well, pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am called Honorian and I am trader from a northern village. This here is Reuel, a smitty's son though I am not sure where his village lies. And the girl is called Siega. A mighty name for such a tiny thing I always say," The man sounded more and more pompous as he went on.
Harry fought back his smile and simply nodded. He felt like someone combining his Uncle and Percy was telling him the story.
"Now, young one," Honorian asked, trying but failing to hide his eagerness. "How is it that you can see us?"
"No one has before?" Harry asked interested.
The man sighed. "No."
"And it is not like we have not tried," the boy jumped up which only earned him a glare from the old man. "Well we did!" The boy defended himself.
The old man harrumphed but eventually answered, "T's true. None can see us, none can hear us. Seems none care. That is until you came along."
"Hmm... I can't really say why," Harry didn't want to start the whole explanation of magic but seeing their disappointed faces, he added, "But my mother once said her great-grandfather had some magic or something. Maybe that carried on in my blood."
"Magic you say?" Honorian was puzzling over the tidbit of information. "Wizards then?" He muttered to himself. "But they never..." Honorian seemed to fade into his own memories.
Seeing the old one was out of the way, the boy and girl eagerly crowded on Harry.
"Have you seen more of us?"
"What can you tell us?"
Dozen questions made one thing very clear to Harry. These spirits didn't know more than he did, about being a spirit.
"All right, all right, I tell you all which is not much. I can hardly see you. You are like made of clowds to me. And you are the first of your kind I have seen," Harry explained what little did he know. Carefully he spoke around the fact that did they know they were dead. Not all spirits did. But all three of them had returned to their villages. Siega didn't want to talk about that at all. Reuel said it looked like had passed by between how he remembered his home being and how it was when he got there.
"I don't know what to tell you more," Harry finished. "Maybe there's a reason you are here? You know, you have something to do still."
"Really?" The girls asked with wide eyes.
"Perhaps," Harry nodded. "Why are you hanging around him?" He nodded to the sleeping man.
"Oh, he is just fun. After a time everything gets so boring and he is fun when we can make him all nervous," Reyel smiled widely. "Just like my own brother was." He then went to try and poke the sleeping man. And just like Honorian, Reuel seemed to forget Harry was even around anymore.
"I wish I could sleep," the little girl sighed.
Harry patted her on the head. It seemed that these spirits were a little disjointed.
"What else do you want?" Harry asked.
The girl looked up at him and smiled toothily, "I want to see the sun again!"
"Can't you see it tomorrow morning?"
"No, not really. We always go away when it gets bright," the girl said sadly.
Harry felt pity at these three. How long must they have been here.
"Tell you what, Siega. What would you say if I said I could send you along?" Harry asked and the girl turned to look at him. "Send you to be with your parents?"
"My mother? But she is no longer here. They said she died," the girl questioned.
"Yes, but she is beyond then now. In a world where only ghosts live," he tried to explain. "I think you were just left behind."
The girl looked thoughtful and Harry realized she must be very old. There were glimpses now and then when he could read it from her eyes. The way she frowned her mouth like adults did. Yet he saw her still acting like a small girl.
Then the girl shook her head, her piglet flying around. "No, I don't wanna go. I wanna stay here with Honory and Rei."
And that was that, as far as Harry was concerned. He had been about to use his hallow powers but had been unsure. The three weren't really ghosts so maybe some part of them had already passed. Or maybe they were really nature spirits or something alike and that they never even had been human. Who knew really and who was he to meddle.
Siega spent a while sitting next to him until she got up and went to poke the sleeping Matty.
Harry wasn't sure if they even remembered him anymore. They seemed harmless enough. And if the girl had been right, they would vanish soon. He could already see the sky lighten to give away to day.
Harry walked back from the camp, a few hills to the left. He did intend to sleep a little longer. It was a miracle he had stayed awake this long. He noticed a shadowy nook and headed there.
He had a feeling that someone was watching him but figured it might be the spirits. When he could hardly see the light of the campfire he had left behind, the uneasy feeling from earlier returned.
Harry saw movement from the corner of his eye. He turned to look but once more there was nothing. He was battling between what he knew he should do and his inner child's command to run and hide.
Suddenly a black mist rolled at him and his body made his decision as it turned and hightailed it out of there.
"Bloody hell," Harry cursed as he jumped over tree roots. "Why am I running again? It's not like it can really hurt me." He knew saying it aloud probably jinxed it and so he kept running.
Then he became in a dead end.
"Great, I've been herded around," he muttered and turned around. "Let's see then what it is that's gonna try and kill me." Harry knew it was arrogant of him but really, he was rather hard to get rid of.
It took a minute but the black mist rolled around the bend. All Harry could really make out were two boney hands and the eyes. He heard clinks of rings in the air. As if someone was carrying heavy jewelry. The air was also getting colder.
"Now you look more like the scary ghost that fall under my expertise," he said.
The wraith didn't deign him important enough to answer but it looked at him hungrily.
Harry got a lonely feeling from the surrounding area. He looked at the hills more carefully.
"Burial mounds!" He exclaimed. "They made the road pass burial mounds." He shook his head. "Idiots."
Then he turned to the wraith that was closing in.
"I have no quarrel with you. You leave me alone and I shall leave you."
The spirit didn't answer but it did slow down, even though it wasn't eager to do so.
Harry frowned. There was something here, he felt as if he could somehow connect with the wright.
"Stop!" Harry said and looked carefully at the thing.
It did stop, as if unable to come closer. Though it wanted to. It was clawing air around it and howling.
"Who – are – you?" It growled. The land around it got frosty.
Harry figured he should feel cold as the grass turned white, but he didn't. He looked at the resurrection stone that sat on the ring in his finger.
He sighed, "I guessed as much." Then he took the resurrection stone in his hand. He had his elder wand in the other.
"It's time for you to find some rest," he stated and brought his wand down swiftly.
At the same moment, sun's first rays tipped over the hills. Harry couldn't be sure if it was his spell or the sunlight that vanished the wraith. If it was him, it was gone for good. If not, then it would be back wandering here soon enough.
Harry looked at the two hallows and muttered, "Interesting." Would it work without the hallows? What was this power he had? He hadn't had time to test it the last time he carried all three of them. He didn't feel any different now that he had them. What creatures fell under his power?
Harry sighed. He should just leave this place but he couldn't. These soldiers and others had clearly not found their way to after life and ever since his own little soiree in the land of the dead, he felt it was sort of his responsibility to guide them whenever he could. He was sure there was a paid reaper somewhere but he would do what he could.
So Harry spent the morning wandering around the Barrow-downs and chanting quietly. He was weaving a white ribbon of magic behind him. It turned into runes at the right places. Runes of peace and guidance and death. He hoped it would be enough. It should, should, point the dead to the right way. Actually it should push them on a little forcefully but the job would be done. It was time this place was finally silenced and given peace.
~o~
tbc.
a/n. Sorry this came out this late. I had an awful flu. I have also been pondering about Harry and how he is changing. How many of you readers find yourself annoyed by him? Or do you perhaps like him like this? Why? Has the change been subtle enough or really, really obvious? Opinions are welcome.