DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling
Warning – Mild Swearing
Chapter Nineteen – A Multitude of Nightmares
With a victorious smirk riding his lips, Harry emerged from the narrow dungeon chamber, pausing only to close the door behind him. Muted grunts and groans drifted through the wood, the sounds increasing the breadth of his smile. Heaving a satiated sigh, he stretched lazily, delighting in the pull of recently abused muscles. The tips of his wings brushed the ceiling as he rolled his shoulders, showering him in a fine rain of dust and broken bits of mortar.
He ducked his head and growled softly, shooting a displeased glare at the roof. The rumble trailed abruptly off, his chin lifting as his nostrils fluttered. His expression changed, slipping liquidly from displeasure to delight. Lips curving, he inhaled again, his lashes drifting downward as Draco's sweet scent washed over his senses. A purr reverberated through his chest, the noise growing noticeably louder as his wings began to droop. He was seconds away from becoming a contented puddle of Retriever on the dungeon floor when his eyes flew open. Immediately the purr turned into a disgusted snarl.
As he was standing there luxuriating in the blond's smell, said blond was on his way to the Headmaster's study to tattle. With a hiss of self-loathing, his wings flew open and his eyes narrowed, his entire being changing. His focus became that of a hellhound on the hunt, his feet barely brushing the floor as he swept through the castle. The path that he took was the one Draco had taken mere minutes ago, the wizard's smell a silent taunt the closer he drew to Dumbledore's chambers.
Harry slowed at finding the passage to the Headmaster's office already open, the narrow staircase brightly lit by dancing torches. Tipping his head, he listened carefully, searching for the sound of Draco's voice among the crackling of flames and the whisper of snow against the nearby windowpanes. A scowl grew upon his face as he heard the blond's cultured voice from above, his expression darkening as the young wizard continued to weave a tale any traveling bard would be enviable of. Lips twisting into a grim smirk, he prowled onward, silently mounting the torch lit stairs. He halted at the top before the closed door, leaning slightly closer to the heavy wood to sniff delicately as he lifted a hand to knock.
"Do come in, Harry," Dumbledore called jovially from within the chamber.
Shoulders hunching, the raven-haired demon lowered his hand to the knob and forcefully turned it. His orbs flashed a brilliant shade of jade as the old brass buckled within his grip, the metal taking on the contours of his hand. Barely restraining the growl that vibrated his chest, he forced the door open and stalked into the room.
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Harry murmured in greeting, his gaze sweeping the cramped study in search of Draco. A slight shift in the air currents within the room turned his head toward the fire roaring in the hearth. Slowly, he pivoted to face the triumphant blond, his orbs narrowing at the gleeful gleam in the other male's pale eyes. "Draco."
"Harry, how good to see you again," Draco purred, lifting the cup of tea he cradled to his mouth. He didn't bother to hide his smile, actually lowering the teacup marginally so the dark-haired demon could see the victorious smirk riding his lips. Brows drawing down, he slid his eyes toward the Headmaster, taking a careful sip before addressing the older wizard calmly. "There were nine of them, Professor. And the blood! It was everywhere . . . like some poor soul had been mercilessly slaughtered."
Fighting down the urge to hiss, Harry prowled further into the room, his every step imbued with quiet confidence. "The blood was theirs," he finally said, "Spilled in the heat of the moment." He turned back toward Dumbledore, carefully gauging the old wizard's reaction to the blond's damning statement. Indecision filled the air, the smell wafting from the ancient mortal's pores like smoke from a fire. "By nature, we are violent. It is a trait that has ensured Retrievers remain respected by all demons. And it protects the reputation we have nurtured carefully over the centuries."
Frowning, Dumbledore straightened in the chair behind his desk, his eyes wary as they moved back and forth between the pair. "And what reputation would that be?" He asked cautiously, his fingers seeking out the comforting weight of his wand.
One built upon a base of death, mayhem, and authorized assassinations. Oh, and lets not forget the merciless slaughter, Harry thought. Heaven, even describing them as bloodthirsty wouldn't be that far from the truth; although it definitely wouldn't earn him any points with either wizard. "A well earned one," he replied smoothly, stretching his wings toward the ceiling. His eyes flared a brilliant shade of green at the soft snort Draco emitted, the noise swiveling his head back in the blond's direction. "Of the nine individuals Mister Malfoy observed in the dungeons, only eight are my brethren. The ninth, James, was deployed by Zeus to ascertain that Hades demons were dealt with in a quick and efficient manner."
It took a long minute for the raven-haired Retriever's words to sink in, a minute in which Albus stared in mute shock at the winged male, his mouth opening and closing silently. "An Angel?" He finally managed to gasp. At the almost nonexistent dip of Harry's chin, Dumbledore slumped deeper in his chair, swiping a shaking hand across his mouth to still the quivering of his lips. "They're real."
"As real as I," Harry muttered. Of course, there was no need to tell the pair that James was a crow wearing the feathers of a dove. That not only was his halo a tad bit tarnished, but it perched crookedly atop a pair of horns. Giving a small wag of his head, he returned his attention to Dumbledore. "Their presence will be minimal in the battle that lies ahead. By rights, Zeus has no business even meddling in my Lord's affairs."
"Why do you have to be here, then?" Draco demanded suddenly, "If there are Angels to deal with the demons." His back was ramrod straight, his eyes flashing promises of pain in Harry's general direction. The thoughtful frown that blossomed across the Headmaster's face had his hands clenching around the delicate china cup he held, his body tensing as he waited for the older wizard to board the train of thought racing through his head.
Harry was unable to suppress the growl that rose up from deep within his chest, the rabid sound trickling over his tongue. "War." He spat angrily, reaching up to grasp the hilt of his sword. Draco was expertly undermining all his hard work, digging beneath the walls he had carefully constructed upon half-truths and out right lies. "A war unlike anything your plane has ever seen before. The clouds would rain down angels and the earth would spew forth demons. And together, we would tear your earth apart. Not on purpose, of course, but you'd all get in the way while we were attempting to mercilessly slaughter each other."
"You all seemed to be getting along just fine when I saw you." Draco snapped in a show of temper. He took a deep breath as he tried to regain his poise, eyeing Harry unobtrusively. His movements graceful, he reached out and set his teacup down on a nearby side table, ignoring the tepid liquid that sloshed over the rim.
"James is an old acquaintance," Harry bit out, "And thus, none of your concern." He bared glistening fangs at the blond, his eyes flashing a silent warning. Rasping his wings lightly together, he shifted his gaze to Dumbledore, his head tipping as his brow furrowed. "We've matters to discuss, Headmaster. Important matters which revolve around you, your castle, and all those who dwell within it." His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, fingers absently rubbing the tanzanite set within the metal.
Blinking at the abrupt change of topic, Dumbledore gave a grim nod, his gaze sliding to Draco's fuming form. "Mister Malfoy, please return to your dormitory," he ordered briskly. His brows rose slowly as the younger wizard turned narrowed orbs in his direction. "At once, Draco. And do refrain from taking any unnecessary detours."
Face reddening at the prompt dismissal, Draco sputtered unintelligibly. He looked back and forth between the pair, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of the armchair at the triumphant glow in Harry's emerald eyes. Finally, unable to find the words to properly express himself, he rocketed to his feet and stormed towards the door. "Just wait until my Father hears of this," he snarled, shooting the silent demon a look of pure hatred. With a final scoff of disgust, he flounced through the open portal, his hand finding the malformed knob as he passed.
Wincing at the resounding slam of the heavy door, Harry gave a slight shake of his head before prowling to the chair Draco had occupied. He dropped gracelessly onto the plush cushion and stretched his feet toward the crackling fire blazing in the hearth. "Within the next twenty-four hours Voldemort's army will attack." His eyes slid closed at the warmth emanating from the orange flames, a groan of undiluted pleasure spilling from his mouth.
Mouth falling open, Albus stared at the demon. "How-" was all he managed to say, completely flabbergast by the few simple words. He stood in a whoosh of maroon robes, circling his desk to pace worriedly in front of an obviously unconcerned Harry. His strides were short and choppy, his gait like that of a three legged doe.
"It's really quite simple," Harry replied, giving a lazy wave of his left hand. "They'll storm the castle at night when it's least expected. Your wards, while seemingly adequate, will neither stop nor slow them. Any witch or wizard who gets in their way will be killed without a second thought. And once they gain entrance to Hogwarts . . . well, it'll pretty much be a free for all." One eyelid lifted slowly, allowing him to watch the Headmaster's frantic pacing. Besides that slight movement, he made no attempt to ease Albus Dumbledore's fears or placate him with hollow assurances.
Dumbledore stood frozen, staring at Harry in horror. "The Ministry must be contacted. The Order must be alerted," he croaked, his mind reeling. There were so many things that could happen. So few things he could to do to prevent such a nightmare from actually occurring. He spun around and moved quickly toward his desk, intending to begin the writing of letters that would summon various individuals to the aid of Hogwarts.
"You will contact no one," Harry said quietly. "The matter will be handled."
Wheeling on the relaxed demon, Albus heaved a frustrated growl and reached up to tug on his beard. "Handled by whom? That mangy bunch in the dungeons that can't even get along with each other? You expect me to leave the lives of my staff and students in their hands?" He demanded angrily, freezing in mid beard pull as Harry's second eye popped open. The look in those twin jade spheres was enough to force him back a step, the action bringing a smile to the raven-haired male's lips.
Leisurely straightening his spine, Harry adjusted his wings, his gaze never straying from the wizard. "My brethren and I were bred for this purpose. To punish and kill those who choose to ignore the laws of Hell. If there is one thing we've become very good at over the centuries, it's dealing with unruly demons. We might fight over anything, for any little reason, but we do take our duties seriously."
"And you expect me to trust you? And that lot?" Dumbledore snapped in disbelief, anger over the Retriever's highhandedness overruling his fear. He drew his wand from the folds of his robes, giving a threatening wave of the tip in Harry's direction. "I will not, under any circumstance, leave my castle unguarded; or under the complete protection of you and yours. All you've shown me since your arrival is that you can be a conniving liar! And that isn't exactly a trust building characteristic, is it, Harry? I will be contacting several of my acquaintances." His eyes dared the demon to the refuse him, his entire body quivering with self-righteousness.
Harry laughed. He tipped his head back and laughed. His amused chortles rang through the room, drawing Fawkes' head out from beneath a fiery wing. Thirteen seconds later, he lowered his face, his chin still quivering and his chest falling with each heavy breath he took. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, do you really think I care if you trust me?" He slowly shook his head back and forth, a large grin upon his lips. "You do whatever you believe you must, just keep your sacrifices away from my kin and their blades." With another playful chuckle, he stood.
"You knew. You knew all along that it would come to this!" Dumbledore fairly roared. His face turned a bright shade of red and his fingers clenched around his wand. Pale orbs spitting fire, he flicked his wrist, watching in satisfaction as a shimmering globe of green magic shot toward the demon. His breath caught in his throat when the ball connected with the dark-haired male's middle, the magic seeming to expand on contact. In a flash of dark light the glowing orb was absorbed by the demon's body, leaving the pale skin unmarred.
Running a hand over his stomach, Harry widened his eyes innocently. "If I were you, Headmaster, I'd lock down my castle and pray to Zeus and his beloved angels." With a farewell flick of his fingers, he turned around and glided from the study, a smirk firmly seated upon his face.
Ron blinked against the bright sunlight. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes, turning in a slow circle as a familiar giggle reached his ears. "Hermione?" Brow crinkling, he stared in confusion at the sight that met his eyes. He raised a hand and scratched the side of his face, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
Neville . . . with his head in Hermione's lap. And Hermione was running her fingers through his hair, her gaze locked on his face. A besotted smile slid over the bushy-haired witch's lips and she whispered something inaudible to his ears.
And then the bright image wavered. Darkness began to flow around the edges of the picture, creeping upwards slowly until the heavy shadows became all consuming. A shiver of fear raced up his spine as he swiveled warily, wide eyes frantically searching for Hermione and Neville. Voices reached his ears, fraught with anger and disgust.
"You're doing it all wrong," the first voice hissed.
"How would you know?" Mumbled the second voice.
"Who's the incubus here?" The first voice snarled.
"You're going to give him a wet dream? Where the Heaven does that get us?" Grumbled the first voice, seeming to relent.
With a malicious chuckle, the first male murmured, "It's my turn."
Ron frowned and tried to turn toward the commotion, only managing to wade further into the darkness. Something brushed his shoulder and he froze. Nervously, he lifted a hand and ran it across the tingling area, finding only the smooth cloth of his shirt. Just when he was about to lower his fingers, something settled lightly atop the back of his hand. Fighting down a whimper, he moved his fingers in front of his face and then screamed. He wildly waved his arm, trying to free himself of the small black spider as his shrieks rose in volume. And then another, much larger spider, alighted gently on his shoulder, its pincers reached toward the wizard's face.
Ron jerked up in his bed, his eyes flying open as he desperately searched his quit for spiders. The bed curtains surrounding his bed swung lazily back and forth, marking the passing of someone. Or something. With a frightened whimper, the redhead yanked his wand from beneath his pillow and held it over his chest, his eyes locked on the shadows above him.
How wrong Dumbledore was. In all of Harry's wildest nightmares, he'd never imagined it would come to this. Never even entertained the thought that a simple retrieval would end up in a war between the breeds. Or that he'd end up in the middle of it all with his interests being so scarily similar to those of Zeus
Mumbling a curse, he slipped sure-footedly down the stairs, pausing briefly to sniff the air before heading in the direction he'd come from earlier. Three stairwells and countless intertwining corridors later, he located his prey. Green orbs slitting, he slid into the shadows, gradually closing the distance between himself and the blond. He froze when the wizard halted in front of a tapestry and clasped his hands behind his back, casting a bored glance down the darkened hallway.
It seemed he was expected, Harry mused, smiling wolfishly. "You interfere in matters that do no concern you, Draco Malfoy." His grin grew as the blond flinched ever so slightly, his pale eyes widening fractionally as he searched the passage. Arching his wings in a threatening display, the Retriever glided free of the clinging shadows, his presence dimming the already faint light offered up by the nearest torches.
Drawing himself up, Draco whirled to confront the demon, his hands falling to rest on his hips. "Ah, but you see, Harry dearest, these matters do concern me." Orbs narrowing, he stalked toward the raven-haired male, his footfalls echoing eerily in the empty corridor. "As I am currently residing in this castle, the castle which will soon become a battleground courtesy of you and your kin, I believe my interference is extremely plausible! And if you can't wrap your pea-sized brain around the reasons for my worry, you should be cruicoed!" His last words were almost incomprehensible, ending as they did in a shriek of pure fury.
Wincing at the shrill screech, Harry lifted a hand and gently rubbed the lobe of one sensitive ear, his eyes flashing dangerously. "You'll not be harmed, this I promise," he snarled softly, the pledge sounding anything but reassuring.
Face reddening, Draco halted directly in front of Harry, one delicate finger jabbing the demon in the chest. "You can't promise me that! Things happen during war that are unforeseeable! Promising me safety is like promising me it won't be cold out tomorrow! Or that the sun won't rise! Completely undoable," he hissed angrily. His finger fell away from Harry's broad chest as he took a wary step backward, his eyes locked on the ring of red slowly growing around the dark-haired male's pupil.
"I promise on my immortal soul," Harry wheedled, lowering his lashes in hopes of concealing the fire mounting within his shining orbs. He needed to get Draco to understand. To show him the same trust he'd shown him before he knew the truth about Harry's identity.
Giving a harsh laugh, the blond tipped his head back arrogantly, eyebrows lifting. "You mean your already eternally damned soul? How positively sweet. Why, I can almost feel the love!" He raged, placing a hand theatrically over his heart.
In a fit of fury, Harry roared, the sound setting the wizard back on his heels. Chest heaving, he stared at the startled blond, his hands fisting at his sides. "I go to war tomorrow," he growled. The reaction his statement garnered was not the one he had been hoping for; nor was it even one he'd been expecting.
"So?" Draco asked ruthlessly, his shoulders rising in indifference. "So does my father, which brings us back to your insulting behaviour prior to that little performance in Dumbledore's study. How dare you-"
Harry closed his eyes and groaned inaudibly, one hand rising to gently massage the pounding that was beginning behind his right temple. His orbs flew back open when a clenched fist slammed into his diaphragm. The abruptness of the gesture caused him to stumble backwards in surprise, his wings unfurling reflexively to help him regain his balance. Unfortunately, the razor sharp hook on the end of his left wing bit into the cloth of the tapestry the blond had been admiring earlier, slashing a jagged line through the ancient material. "Hades' Horns!" He muttered in disgust, attempting to retract the sharp claw without further damaging the image worked into the cloth. Finally, after several light tugs, he snarled in frustration and gave an angered flap of his tangled wing, jerking violently on the entire wall hanging. His eyes widened and his chin jerked upward as the distinct sound of snapping metal reached his ears.
"Now look what you've done." Draco said, internally gloating over the demon's predicament. Mildly curious, and always eager to watch someone screw themselves over, he followed the Retriever's gaze toward the thick shadows above them. His pale orbs widened in disbelief, however, when he found himself peering at a massive wall of fabric that was falling unhurriedly toward them. Lips parting in shock, he realized he'd greatly underestimated the size of the tapestry and the exact magnitude of Harry's screw up. "Imbecile!"
Ignoring Draco's furious insult, Harry lunged forward and thrust his wings over the blond's head, protecting him from the heavy weight of the cloth. The sheer mass of the fabric forced him to his knees, his wings shaking with the effort to keep the material off the wizard's delicate shoulders. "This is all your fault," he informed Draco as he crouched above him on his hands and knees, the tips of his wings beginning to curl downward as the full length of the tapestry came to rest on his back.
Gasping at the scandalous statement, Draco balled his hand into a fist and dealt the demon a punch, albeit a much weaker one then the previous. "You oaf! You moron! You stupid beast! You brainless-"
In fear of losing his hearing, Harry did the only thing he could think of to shut the blond up. His lips closed over the blond's mercilessly, stilling his tongue and causing his next insult to die a silent death. For a fraction of a second, he froze, unsure of the reception he was going to receive. And then Draco parted his lips ever so slightly, the small movement causing a shudder to rack the Retriever's entire body.
He groaned loudly, the sound muffled by Draco's mouth. Silken hair feathered over the fingers he'd splayed to either side of the wizard's head, causing his dagger like nails to curl into the hard stone. Beneath him, the blond whimpered, lifting his hands unconsciously to slide them along the muscled planes of Harry's chest. Under Draco's cool hands, his muscles rippled and his tongue slid over bruised lips, sinking deeper into the blond's mouth.
With a gasp, Draco dragged his lips from Harry's, tilting his head back as he panted for breath. A soft huff escaped him as the dark-haired demon slid his open mouth down the smooth length of his throat, his tongue blazing a fiery path over the milky skin. His eyes flew open at the rasp of fangs, his fingers sliding upward to tug at the black strands cascading around his face.
Harry turned his head away from the blond's neck, pressing his nose against the flushed skin. He inhaled deeply, his eyelids drooping at the heavenly smell rising from the wizard's flesh. "Hades," he mumbled, "I love you." And then time stopped, momentarily.
"What!" Draco rasped, staring at the demon with horrified eyes.
Oh shit. Oh fuck. Please, Hades, let this all be some horrible dream, Harry thought. Highly doubting he'd receive divine intervention for such an incident, he licked his lips and returned his attention to the stiff form beneath him. Instead of replying to the wizard's yelped question, or making any other intelligent sound, he simply peered at the blond.
Watching a myriad of emotions race over Harry's face, Draco grit his teeth and balled his fingers into a fist. "Dumb demon!" He spat, slamming his fist into one glowing emerald. As Harry reared up with a pained howl, he rolled over onto his stomach and clambered to his hands and knees, scuttling away from the raven-haired male. When he finally reached the edge of the tapestry, he shot to his feet and ran down the hall, not even bothering to glance over his shoulder.
Harry, on the other hand, simply tore through the delicate material and rose to his feet. He didn't take chase, though the urge was there. Besides, even if he had captured the blond, he hadn't a single idea of what he'd say to him. With a rumbling snarl, he whirled around and slipped into the shadows, finding comfort within their protective arms.
Sliding silently through the shadows, Remus and Sirius passed through the Gryffindor dorms. The pair exchanged the odd shove and narrow eyed look, barely managing to keep from giving their presence away. Their behaviour remained the same all the way down the stairs and across the common room, although a small chair somehow managed to become entangled in Sirius' legs, thus causing him to collapse atop a tiny chess table. The crash from that particular collision echoed through the chamber, bringing both immortals to an abrupt halt before they made a mad dash toward the exit.
"You almost ruined it!" Sirius snapped at Remus, slamming the portrait aside and practically tripping out the portal.
"Ruined it!" Remus spat in return, his feathered wings arching above his back. "The only thing you need to worry about getting ruined is your face! Which is exactly where Harry's fist is go to land when he finds out what you've done!"
"Don't you mean 'what you've done'? I mean, you being the dream expert and all," Sirius mused, turned to face the Incubus just as he a balled fist hurtled toward his nose. The fist connected with unerring accuracy, ringing an eerie screech from the demon's throat.
Still trying to decide whether or not another blow was necessary, Remus stood quietly and watched Sirius try and figure out if his nose was broken. "If you even try to place this act of stupidity on my shoulders, I'll kill you." He threatened in a hiss, his wings rustling in a show of temper. Shooting a warning look at the minor demon, he vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving Sirius to contemplate his fate.
Harry stood unblinking on the roof of one of Hogwarts' many towers, his dark wings splayed. A cold wind stirred his hair and raised goose bumps along his arms; setting the black kilt he wore to fluttering lightly against his thighs. His nostrils flared as he exhaled, clearing the smell of demon magic from his nose. He lifted a hand and encircled the pommel of his iron blade, his fingers tightening as a hollow wail rose from the depths of the Forbidden Forest.
"Hades will kill them all," Maylan murmured, his sudden appearance earning nothing more than a disgruntled huff from the raven-haired Retriever. Arching his broad wings, he lazily strode forward, his gaze locked on the sprawling forest before them. He dropped a hand to the massive mace dangling from the thick leather belt he wore, fingers smoothing gently over the deadly metal spikes jutting from the heavy ball.
"At this point, Hades is the least of their worries," Harry said quietly, his eyes never leaving the heavily shadowed forest. He shifted and hunched his shoulders against the oppressing feeling of grief and despair that filled the air; the toll that came with having so many demons gathered in one small area. In the short period of time that he'd been at the castle, the sensation had grown. Tonight, it felt as if a blanket of pure malevolence had been draped over Hogwarts and its grounds.
Maylan chuckled lightly, turning his head so he could peer at the other Retriever. "Hades might be the farthest thing from their thoughts, but he's very much present in ours." He returned his gaze to the forest, his blue orbs narrowing at small flickers in the shadows among the skeletal arms of the ancient trees. His fingers tightened on the head of the mace, one of the iron spines digging into his palm and drawing blood. With a muted curse, he lifted his hand and glared at the smoking wound, his brow furrowing. "If Hades ever learns of this . . ."
"We'll all be dead," Harry said, the words nothing more than a whisper.
"We'll all be dead," Maylan agreed softly, closing his fingers around the gash in his palm. He lifted his eyes slowly, meeting Harry's perfectly empty orbs for a moment before turning his attention to the demons gathering below them.
Blinking only once, Harry lifted his chin and glared up at the sky, his lips firming. If Hades did learn of his whereabouts he'd be collared, chained, and then dragged back to Hell where he'd most likely spend the rest of his existence as a footstool in the Throne Room. Nose crinkling, he shuddered lightly and reached for the hilt of his sword, taking comfort in the cool metal. He did, however, have one other option. The scar on his brow marked him as a disciple of Zeus, and that might just be enough to distract Hades from wrapping a band of iron around his throat. Yeah, he thought, he was definitely damned if this went bad.
In a rush of icy wind, the other seven Retrievers and Remus came to rest on the tower roof. They closed their wings neatly and adjusted the dark cloaks they wore, shooting nervous glances at Harry as they moved. Prowling stealthily forward, they lined up alongside Maylan, their glimmering orbs immediately going to the slowly brightening forest.
"Can you smell them?" Cadyn asked dreamily, his eyes drifting closed as he inhaled. When he reopened them, they glowed eerily, the pupil having vanished in a flood of chocolate brown.
"Oh, aye," Mortwyn purred softly, licking his lips as he leaned forward.
Nostrils pinching, Harry glanced over at Braxton, noting the demon's flushed face and uneven breathing. He didn't need to make eye contact with the blond to know what he'd find within his shining orbs: Lust. Not for flesh, well, kind of for flesh, but more so for the blood that lay beneath that flesh. Blood lust . . . the lust for blood. And, of course, for the battle that would lead up to that bleeding. It was a strictly Retriever trait.
"I think I lost my balls somewhere around the third floor," Sirius said, his teeth chattering as he hauled himself onto the slippery tiles of the roof. He shot a glare at Maylan as the red-haired Retriever chuckled loudly, climbing awkwardly to his feet and limping toward Remus. Hands tucked into his armpits, he turned to face the direction the group was facing, scanning the seemingly abandoned forest with growing confusion. After several long minutes, he rocked back on his heels, his brow furrowing. "So, . . . what are we looking at?"
Sighing, Harry shook his head sadly. "How is it you became a demon again?" He asked regretfully, gaze shifting from the forest to the horizon. Red and mauve bloomed upon fluffy white clouds, stretching delicate fingers of pink across the pale sky. He hissed softly as the sun spilled over the earth's edge, setting the Forbidden Forest aflame. Streaks of orange and gold light consumed the darkness and all that had hidden within it, leaving the eleven demons cursing angrily and shielding burning orbs with arched wings and splayed fingers. "Back to the dungeon," Harry ordered sharply, peeking around his curved nails.
Rather than argue, the eight Retrievers tossed themselves off the tower, dropping eagerly toward the safety of the castle's lower levels. Meanwhile, Harry lowered his hand and stared intently at the Forbidden Forest, his lips curving. "Tonight, it begins," he breathed.
"Don't you mean 'ends'? As in, 'it ends tonight'? Begins would imply the start of something, whereas this will actually be the end-" Sirius blabbered happily, obviously having gotten over the traumatic climb to the tower roof. And Remus' threat of death.
"Shut up, Sirius." Harry said evenly, stepping to the edge of the roof and opening his wings. Without bothering to glance over his shoulder, he leapt into nothing and dropped gracefully toward the ground. Besides, either way you chose to look at it . . . the sinking of this sun would signify the beginnings of Harry's war.
A/N: As always, thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review. And yes, the next chapter is the one we've all been waiting for.