Disclaimer: I don't own HP or RotG.

Chapter 6

Jack arrived at North's place by the following evening after leaving Mexico City. It had taken him all day to travel through the mountains. He'd had to stay in the high altitudes and follow the cold breezes north. He'd only been able to chance flying when he'd reached northern Canada around late afternoon.

For once, Jack used the front doors instead of trying to sneak in. Phil gave him a questioning look but Jack was in too much of a hurry to stop and talk. He needed answers. If North didn't have them then Jack needed to tell him about this Harry guy. It could be that Harry had told the truth when he explained the details of his death job. Jack wouldn't rule out that possibility. Harry had seemed like a nice guy but he wasn't going to blindly trust anyone with such dark power. Not after the fiasco with Pitch. He'd learned his lesson.

Jack kept his eyes peeled as he made his way through the workshop. He had a good hunch that he'd find North in his office but he didn't want to miss him due to inattention if he was in the toy factory. It was pretty empty now. Since it was the middle of July the workshop was still on a regular 9-5 schedule. The way Jack understood, it was in the Yetis' union agreement not to start working overtime until three months before Christmas. Jack figured it was about an hour after quitting time because there were only the elves moving about the place. He didn't spot the big man anywhere so he continued on his way.

"North. Hey North, you in here?" Jack called as he approached the door to North's office. He didn't bother knocking before entering the office since he'd already announced himself. North was sitting in his chair at his desk. There wasn't any music playing. Instead of the ice sculptures Jack was used to seeing on the desk, North was reading one of the books from the shelves. Jack felt a bit of excitement spark in him at the sight. The last time he'd found North like this he'd been planning and designing a working ice model of the 1988 Buran space shuttle and launch pad 110/37. Whatever North was working on now it was going to be big.

"Hello Jack," North greeted without looking up from the page he was reading. He held up one finger to ask for a moment of quiet while he got to a good stopping point and closed his book after marking the page. He set the book on his desk and turned to give his full attention to Jack. That was one reason why Jack liked spending time with North above all the other Guardians. North treated him differently, like a little brother rather than just a friend. It was the closest Jack had to family since he'd died.

"Hey. How's it going?" Jack continued with the formalities. Now that he was here he was starting to doubt whether telling North his concerns was a good idea. He was always nervous he wouldn't be taken seriously because of his age, time as a Guardian, or because of the mistakes he made during Pitch's last uprising.

"Is good but is not why I think you are here. What is problem, Jack?" North could see that Jack was doing some deep thinking and was troubled by something.

"Do you know of a spirit named Harry? I met him last night. MiM told me to help him so I did but the guy seemed a bit strange."

"Harry? I do recognize name but cannot put face on."

"He has a unique power. He calls himself Master of Death and his job is to lead children to the Hereafter," Jack expected that to get a big reaction out of North. He was very protective of the children and Jack was sure that the news of a spirit taking children to their deaths would outrage him. Instead, North just sat looking pensive.

"You know him? You knew he was around and didn't tell anyone? This guy could be a serious threat to everything." Jack couldn't believe it. In his distress he was letting his thoughts run away with him.

"Calm, Jack, calm. Do not be conclusion jumping about him. I do not know him well. I met him once, few years ago on Christmas Eve. Until you mentioned him, I did not remember him," North said in a deeply pensive voice. "Here, sit. Is long story and longer discussion I think," North said pulling a smaller stool out for Jack to sit on. It had originally been used as a table for trays of cookies since North rarely had any room on his desk. After Jack kept clearing it off to use every time he visited it became his. He sat and got comfortable. He had a feeling North was right about how long this talk would take but he doubted he'd remain sitting for very long after North finished telling him about meeting Harry.

"Was Christmas night seven years ago. I was in India around the boarder with China. I was visiting home, giving gifts, as normal. Suddenly, I hear someone cough behind me and my skin nearly jumped off. At first, I thought child had found me. But no. I turn and there is spirit that looked bit older than you standing in doorway to only other room in house. He introduced himself as Harry and asked if I have bit of time to give him. You know Jack how busy I am on Christmas but I say yes because I am curious. He led me into other room where whole family was sleeping. There was one little girl seated with back against wall looking asleep but opened eyes when we approached. Jack, it was terrible sight. She was so thin that her skin stretched over bones like she hadn't eaten in months. She looked very weak. Her eyes were full of fear, pain, and sadness. I turned to Harry and asked him what was wrong with girl. He called it malnourishment – not enough food to eat. Girl was dying because of it. "Harry, you are spirit. You protect children. You must save her," I say. He say, "I can't, I'm sorry. I'm the Master of Dead, not Death itself. I can't stop it. All I can do is help them find their way." I look back to girl and she has seen us. And it was miracle thing to see. When she saw me her eyes changed. There was spark of wonder in them. I knelt down next to her and put my hand on her shoulder in comfort. Right before my eyes the spark of wonder grew in her eyes until there was no more fear or pain or sadness, only wonder. Was one of best Christmas gift I ever give. I watched as Harry took her hand and then he disappeared as light went out of girl's eyes. That was last time I saw him. I went on to finish Christmas. After that, I looked for him but eventually forgot about him when I didn't find him. So you see, Jack, meeting me meant little girl was no longer afraid. If Harry was as bad as Pitch, he would have hidden from me and prayed on girl's fear instead of trying to console her."

"All right, so maybe he isn't pure evil. But he's still a suspicious character. He's bad news." Jack stood up and started pacing.

"Jack, we are Guardians. We don't go round falsely accusing spirits we don't know."

"It isn't a false accusation if it's true," Jack stopped and argued.

"But you don't know that for sure. He is – what is saying? – innocent until proven not."

"Innocent until proven guilty," Jack corrected automatically.

"Is what I say," North dismissed the correction of his English as usual with a shrug. "All spirits have purpose Jack. Is like children though. Some do good and some do bad but all are respected for who they are. Unless they threaten the children or us, we leave them alone to work. We are Guardians Jack, not KGB."

"But what if we had proof or –"

"Like what? Why you think this spirit is as bad as Pitch?"

"I don't think he's as bad as Pitch but I still think he's bad."

"Why? And don't say because of his job. Man in Moon does everything for reason," North warned. He didn't mind Jack speaking his mind but only if his argument was thought out and presented rationally. He would not tolerate blind accusations against MiM or any other spirit.

"Okay fine. Aside from the whole Master of Death thing, there's still something off about him. Like his reactions, he moves too quickly and silently."

"Is not necessarily bad," North countered. It was true that in the human world these abilities were most commonly found in fighters. However, many of the spirits of childhood had developed agility and silence to meet the demands of their jobs without getting caught by children. It wasn't a strong argument and both Jack and North knew it.

"Okay but he has this way that he stands," Jack tried to explain. From the skeptic look on North's face he could tell it was a poor attempt. "I mean, his manners and body language aren't directly threatening but it's like his laid-back nonchalance is a smokescreen for something dangerous behind his smile and friendly disposition."

"So you not like because he's friendly?" North guessed with confusion. Jack really wasn't explaining this well at all. So far this spirit sounded pretty nice.

"Yes – I mean, no. I mean – yes he's friendly but no, I don't like him because it seems like he's hiding something. Even though he looks relaxed all the time, if you watch him closely you can tell that he's ready for a fight at any second."

"Ah, now I see," North said with understanding.

"So you agree with me?" Jack asked for confirmation.

"Of course not," North said in the same tone he'd used when he'd first tried to get Jack to go through the Guardian ceremony, that tone that said he thought Jack was being ridiculous. "What you are describing is not evil, it is warrior."

"Warrior?"

"Yes, is not easy to understand unless by other warriors."

"But I'm a warrior. I fought Pitch," Jack argued.

"No Jack," North contradicted in a grave tone of voice. "You are Guardian and a fighter but not warrior. Warrior is part of who a person is. Is part of very being. Like me, I am warrior. You notice I pick up sword at moments notice? I am always prepared. It comes from person who fought many battles before," North explained.

Jack didn't think he really understood the concept but he had noticed North was always quick to draw his swords at any sign of trouble. He trusted and respected North so he accepted the explanation. "Okay. But what about his powers?" This was Jack's last point against Harry.

"Jack, we said this already. His power is what Man in Moon gave him to do his job" North said in exasperation.

"No, no, I'm not talking about that. I mean he has powers that are different and not a part of his job."

"What you mean?"

"He called me to Mexico City to make it snow only after he failed to do it himself. He made it sound like he could have done it himself under different circumstances. And when I was making it snow, he did something to make the room colder so I'd be successful. It was like magic – and not our kind of magic. Magic like a sorcerer."

The look North gave him clearly stated that he thought Jack was crazy. Jack felt crazy too. His argument had sounded so concrete in his head but after hearing what it sounded like out loud he couldn't be mad at North for his reaction.

"There are many kinds of magic Jack. You know this. From everything you say it sounds like this Harry is still young to our ways and hasn't learned to drop his guard like rest of us."

"You can't be defending him!" Jack said in angry denial. He may agree that North had won this debate but Jack couldn't shake the feeling that Harry shouldn't be trusted.

"Jack, what are we?" North asked calmly.

Jack heaved a sigh, "we're the Guardians." He knew it was pointless to keep arguing when North got like this. He could even see North's point even if he didn't want to acknowledge it. As Guardians, they have to be unbiased in their treatment of other spirits and act in everyone's best interests.

"Exactly."

Harry angrily threw another rock into the lake. He needn't worry about being seen or disturbed. Hogwarts was out for summer break and it was the middle of the night besides. He'd always come to this spot on the lake when he was still living to think whenever the stress of school or life weighed heavily upon him. Times like right now.

After parting ways with Jack in Mexico City, Harry had been too upset to continue his personal visits that night. He'd sent out projections of his magic to guide children as they were needed and returned to his tower in Hogwarts. He lied in bed for most of the day. He didn't need sleep but it was a habit left over from his human life that he hadn't bothered changing. He had tried mediation to sort his thoughts and calm himself. He'd made several attempts but his thoughts kept circling from anger at Jack's words to self-doubt about his purpose.

How dare that…that…that frost bitten little brat falsely accuse him like that? The kid had no idea what he was talking about. It burned at Harry's insides like acid. This had been the same feeling he got every time the rumours and gossip of Hogwarts and the Wizarding world slandered his name. He hated the feeling and thought he was done with having to deal with it when he agreed to help MiM. Another rock splashed into the water.

MiM had made it sound so easy when he trained him. When he had awoken back in his tower, Harry understood his purpose. For the past thirty years he'd never questioned himself. There had been times of doubting his capabilities in performing his duty but never in the job itself. Even after all the training with MiM, he had been unprepared for the demands he would face. If it hadn't been for Sandy, Harry wouldn't have made it as a spirit. What had been the scariest time in his existence had been transformed into his strongest positive memory thanks to the dream spirit.

Harry had been serving as the spirit of death for children for only a few months. Since he'd woken up he'd gotten much better at understanding the different aspects of his powers and the influences children had over him. He'd been a bit disoriented when he'd first woken up in the same tower at Hogwarts where he'd passed out after the war. He had woken up with a pain in his stomach that at first felt like hunger. This had confused him since MiM had explained that he'd never feel hunger as a spirit. He'd be able to eat but he'd never need to.

As he'd pondered this feeling, it had changed from the feeling of needing something to eat to reminding him of a feeling from Before – something to do with a trophy and an older boy and a tug like a fishing hook at his naval. It had given him a momentary panic attack to think he was going to disappear and be pulled to places unknown. That hadn't been the case. Instead he'd had to follow the feeling of his own will. The pressure only lessened when he moved in the direction the feeling took him. He'd followed the feeling from Hogwarts to London, more specifically to the Great Ormond Street Hospital to see his first child across the Realm. The feeling hadn't let up until he found himself in the operating room where an eight-year-old girl name Susie was receiving a kidney transfer. She hadn't been going on, she had just needed someone to keep her company in the Realm as she underwent her first surgery.

His existence had continued on like that for the most part. He'd feel the pull on his core that would lead him to children within the United Kingdom. Then after a while he'd been pulled to places throughout the European Union. It progressed like that as his range expanded to encompass children around the world. Unfortunately, Harry had been straining to keep up with the demand before his range expanded past the western world. He had followed the pull of his magic to every corner of the globe trying to help as many children as he could. Even with his magic, it was impossible for him to answer every summons. There had been too many children, too many pulls, to keep up with. He couldn't be everywhere he needed to be at the same time. There was not easing the pressure.

The feeling had come again and returned with more strength, as he'd become more attuned with it. He'd just finish escorting one child only to feel pulls from two or three more. Four months later he hadn't been able to bare the feeling of his core pulling him in every direction. It had been too much. He couldn't keep up. While one tug applied just a bit of pressure, the hundreds he had been feeling by then were tearing him apart. Harry hadn't been able to make it stop. He hadn't known how. As the pressure had increased, the pain had spread to his head and exploded behind his temples. He hadn't been able to think or move. When he couldn't take it any more, he'd screamed at the top of his lungs in a vain attempt to ease some of the pressure. After he'd ran out of breath, he'd wrapped his arms around his middle, sank to his knees and pressed his forehead into the earth. He'd really wished he could pass out. He had been sure that was the end for him.

Across town from where Harry had collapsed, gold dream sand danced in rivers across the sky. Sandman had stopped what he was doing when he heard the scream. He'd checked that his dream sand would operate without his personal direction before he'd gone to see what the trouble was. He'd found Harry where he'd fallen and decided to help. Harry could only imagine what Sandy had thought of him when he'd found him: this unknown spirit he'd never seen before, kneeling and screaming in pain on the ground, who hadn't even been able to sense his approach.

Harry still couldn't figure out how Sandy had done it. Harry had been too absorbed by the pain to notice anything around him. He hadn't even felt Sandy's hand on his shoulder. Somehow though, Sandy had been able to ease the pain just enough for Harry to be able to focus on something else. He had then been able to feel the hand on his shoulder and the presence of Sandy beside him. When he hadn't heard anything after a moment, he'd opened his eyes and raised his head. The pain had still there for sure but it hadn't been as crippling. He'd been able to see Sandy clearly enough to understand the images and gestures he was using to communicate. Thank goodness that Harry had so much experience communicating in different methods with MiM otherwise the rapid pace images would have made him hurl.

"Direct strands of your magic to follow the pulls and project an image to act in you stead. The strands will be able to travel much faster than you will my friend and they can allow you to be in more than one place at a time," Sandy had directed by miming the instructions. For Harry, it hadn't been so much about reading them as understanding the meaning as a whole, almost as if Sandy had been speaking telepathically to him.

Harry had concentrated through the pain, something he sadly had a lot of experience with, and focused on following Sandy's instructions. MiM had taught him how to direct his magic in similar ways during training. Harry's consciousness had sunk within himself to his core. Wading through the hundreds of pure white strings of the pulls to the golden light of his magical core, Harry had attached just enough of his magic to each white string to make a lifelike projection of himself appear to every child that needed him. He'd watched as the white strings had detached from his core pulling a little ball of magic at their ends like a fish caught on a line. Off they went and with them went the pressure and pain associated with a pull that went unanswered for too long. It had taken him a good amount of time to go through all of the strings and attach projections to each but it had gotten easier as he'd gone along as the pain had decreased with each answered pull.

He'd returned to full awareness after releasing the final pull only to find a golden little man standing calmly in front of him with a smile on his face. He watched a quick series of images made of the same golden colour and granular texture flash above the little man's head. "That's it. Try to answer the pulls as soon as you feel them. You might need to physically sit down and concentrate on each one until you get used to the process. This will prevent another instance of pain such as the one you just experienced. After you get practiced at it you'll be able to do it in your sleep."

Harry had been so grateful to the little man, Sandy as he'd introduced himself, that he'd hugged him. It had felt like lying face down in the sand at the beach on a warm afternoon. Sandy was now the only friend Harry could name. He regularly visited the little man on his cloud whenever he felt lonely. Sandy had explained more about the spirits and the world of children that MiM hadn't covered, including the history of interactions between the Guardians and the Boogeyman. Sometimes Harry had gone to him with specific questions about how to use his powers. Most times though, they had sat in silence just enjoying each other's company.

Jack was right about one thing. His purpose was technically just to help children to the other side. The "one last wish" rule he'd adopted had been his own. He had come up with the idea to make his job easier for both him and the child. It was one of the things that had come from his discussions with Sandy. It had been terrible for him to watch a child suffer as he waited for them to pass. He also had found that they were more distressed when he met them in the Realm. By comforting them beforehand and reassuring them that he'd be there to help them through it had been much less stressful for him and the children. No, Jack was wrong. There was nothing malicious about his cause. Snow Cone wouldn't understand that so long as he viewed death as something evil and denied that it was a natural process. He threw another rock as hard as he could into the lake.

Was this curse of constant liable and slander going to haunt him for eternity? It seemed he could never escape it for long. For some reason he'd thought the spirit world would be different. Sandy had accepted him so easily as a friend and he was on amiable terms with North after their one meeting. They had accepted him as one of their own. They had welcomed him, maybe not with open arms, and they had guided him in the operation of his responsibilities. Sure it was only two of the five Guardians but it had given Harry hope that this existence was going to be better than the last.

Maybe it was just Jack. Harry saw the signs within the first minutes of meeting him that the winter sprite was fighting some demons of his own. Jack's initial, instinctual reaction when startled, the defensive behaviour when Harry had introduced himself and asked Jack to walk with him, and the suspicion and accusation at the end of their meeting were all signs of some psychological trauma. Harry didn't yet have enough information to properly determine what exactly that trauma may be but he had enough personal experience from the war to recognize the symptoms in someone else. He honestly wanted to help the sprite as much as he hated him. Not out of pity but because he felt protective of him. He felt responsible to help since he knew how to help. He threw another rock in frustration that realization inspired in him.

He was angrier at being made to feel guilty and doubtful in his purpose than he was at the Snow Cone but it's hard to stay angry at a feeling. Jack had been the cause of him feeling this way so Harry focused his anger against Jack. But the more he analyzed Jack's behaviour and recognized his actions for what they really were, the faster the anger drained out of him. He heaved a sigh that felt as if he was deflating and sat down on the bank of the lake, too emotionally drained to return to his tower. In his emotional exhaustion, he failed to notice the lengthening of the shadows around him.

"I'm telling you North, this Harry guy is not someone we should be trusting. I just have this feeling about him," Jack implored one final time.

His plea fell on deaf ears though. North had stopped listening to Jack half way through that sentence. He was too distracted by the ringing in his ears. Usually this wouldn't bother him but this ringing was the same pitch, frequency, and annoyance as an analogue alarm clock. And that was precisely what it was, an alarm. Except that instead of waking North up, this was the alarm North had set just under fifty years ago as part of a surveillance system that was monitoring the world for any evil activity. This was the first instance that it had gone off since testing had been completed after instillation. So North was understandably concerned to hear the alarm that informed him if Pitch ever resurfaced.

"Come with me, Jack", North interrupted Jack mid-rant and walked out the door without waiting for him.

"Wha – wait a second, wait for me," Jack called as he ran to catch up.

Jack followed North from his office to the command platform that overlooked the globe. To Jack, everything looked as it should. The globe was illuminated and it was rotating, as it should. North, on the other hand, knew what to look for. As the globe spun, his eyes scanned its surface in search of anything out of the norm. It shouldn't be hard to spot once it was in view. North had made sure during the programing that the visual alarm was a flashing red light so it would be easily seen. Among all the gold lights on the globe, a red beacon no matter how small should stick out like a sore thumb.

There it was. As the globe continued it's counter-clockwise rotation, Western Africa, Western Europe and the United Kingdom came into view. The small red dot was flashing near the top. North's eyes focused on it.

Northern Scotland.

A/N: And the plot thickens. I hope you like it. Thanks to everyone for the reviews. I love the support and I've gotten some great ideas from your suggestions. Please keep sending me great feedback. I've already got a small start on the next chapter but I don't think I'll have it finished before the New Year.

Happy Holidays Everyone!

~*~ sundance-gurl