Chapter Four

He felt a cold dread worm its way into his heart as he stared into those icy blue-grey orbs. The last time he had seen this man had been when he and James had been chased from the very gates of this Castle when they had decided to wash the filth from the stinking Dwarf that barred their path.

He could vaguely recall running for his life when the crazed Dwarf had bellowed something about Goblins, before trying to bisect him with his wickedly sharp axe.

Merlin's balls, it had taken Lily and another Dwarf to pull the mad midget from both he and James and they had been a hair's breadth away from being cut to shreds.

Now like then, he felt as if he was a gnat before the powerful Wizard, and having just watched scores of Dementors burn under the powerful working of Magic that continued to bathe the world in its pale luminescence only cemented that feeling.

Despite being utterly naked and wanting nothing more than to cover himself and run away, he held his hands aloft in surrender as he steeled his resolve and held the man's gaze as he spoke.

"I want to see my son."

His voice sounded like a coarse file on stone, its dry rasp nearly making him wince as the old Wizard continued to stare at him in terrifying silence.

A twitch of the eye was the only warning he had before he found the man's fist racing towards his face quickly followed by a powerful spell that sent him flying backwards, tumbling end over end. Eventually came to a stop with a groan as he found himself staring up at the great pulsing moon-like orb that hovered above the castle.

"I suppose I had that coming." He groaned at the night sky as he rolled over with a grunt of pain, he spat out a glob of blood onto the stones of the bridge and ran his hand over his split lip, he winced as his grubby fingers probed the torn skin but it was just another to add to the others that peppered his already aching body. He had gained a multitude of scratches from the loose stones that littered the bridge, but he ignored it all as he climbed back to his feet only to find himself hoisted from his feet by another spell from the angry Lord Blackwood.

He found that he could not move a single muscle no matter how much he strained, he desperately tried to push against the binding magic with his own but his flight from the Dementors had weakened his already strained Magic.

The man glared at him with such fury that if Sirius could have moved he would have already turned tail and ran, but before he could say anything the look of anger slowly faded from Lord Blackwood's face to reveal one of mild disgust and pity.

"What, by the name of all that is good, are you doing here?!"

Sirius could say nothing, the spell holding him would not allow it. As if realising this, Lord Blackwood waved his hand and Sirius suddenly found himself able to move his head freely once more.

Looking at the man, he found his limited self-control slipping and he began telling the man everything that had transpired ever since that forsaken Halloween night to what had happened the last few days. He left nothing out of his escape from Azkaban, his random apparitions about the country or his hope of safety in his flat. How even that supposed hope had been a fool's dream, and the Dementors had found him before he had fled to here in the desperate hope that he could see his Son and Godson before they inevitably caught him.

With a startled yell, he found himself falling several feet to land in a heap at the man's feet, his arms trembled as he pushed himself up once more now that the adrenaline of the past few hours was finally leaving his body, but he froze as he felt something soft and warm drape itself over his naked body.

Looking up he found himself staring at Lord Blackwood as the man pulled his robe tight about Sirius's shoulders. He could only stare in confusion before the man hauled him to his feet as he explained.

"If you are to see Callian and Harry then you will not do it naked and stinking like a cesspit. It is a long walk to Kar Zurant, and we have a lot to talk about Black."

Despite himself, Sirius could only gape in confusion as the man began to walk away.

"You… you believe me?!" The question escaped him before he could even think about it, never once in all his time within Azkaban had another believed him. He had long given up on the slim hope that someone would realise the truth, and free him from the never-ending nightmare he had found himself in. The easy acceptance by Lord Blackwood took him completely by surprise and sent his heart racing at the thought of someone believing him, and the first embers of hope he had thought long since extinguished began to kindle in his heart. The House of Blackwood was powerful and influential and it may just be the key to his freedom, but first, he had to see his son and Harry. They were all that mattered to him at that very moment.

"I have it on good authority that you are being truthful about your innocence. Now move Black, it has been a long day and I fear it will be even longer still."

A dozen questions burned to get out but the only one that he could think to ask at that moment was. "If you know I'm innocent then why the fuck did you hit me?!

His raspy voice had taken on a hysterical note towards the end and he found himself poking his tongue at his split lip once more.

He found himself backing up suddenly as Lord Blackwood spun to face his hand aglow with spell light, the man seemed to gain control of his emotions as his hand balled up a fistful of the robe and Denevan Blackwood pulled him close.

"You fucked my daughter and left her with child!"

The words escaped the man in a hiss as he spoke through clenched teeth, and Sirius had to fight the sudden urge to empty his bladder as he felt the man's power surge about him in his anger.

Taking a step back he could only stare after the man as he turned back to walk along the bridge as he led him onwards, the notion that he may have had better luck with the Dementors suddenly drifting through his mind before he gave a shake of his head and followed after the man.

Silently the pulsating sphere of Magic gently floated across the room, as it passed before Callian its gently yellow glow changed. Purple light began to bloom within the sphere as he brought his Magic close to that of his friend.

"Good, Adria. Now hold the sphere until you feel my Weave overlay yours entirely."

Adria could only nod her head, her brow beaded with sweat as she stared resolutely at the pulsating sphere of energy. Carefully Callian layered his Magic over that of his friend, deftly usurping his friend's hold on the sphere.

Callian easily brought the sphere across and waited patiently as the next in their small circle tried to pluck the sphere from him. Draco sat still, his eyes closed and looking as if he had fallen asleep, yet, his Magic was anything but dormant. To Callian's eyes, it danced about him in a chaotic storm of barely controlled power, out of all his friends the young Slytherin was having the most difficulty in learning to progress beyond a rudimentary control of his Magic. Eventually, Draco managed a faltering grasp of the sphere and Callian released it to his control only for the boy's grasp to flicker and die as a loud bellow of outrage came from behind the closed doors into the next room.

Hermione shot a fearful look towards the door as her father's booming voice could be heard, the man had been in a rage ever since they had returned from Hogwarts. In truth he could not blame the man, his daughter had been removed from the school because an evil Dark Lord's spirit had decided it was too damn stubborn to die. On top of that, said Dark Lord had then tried to get them somewhere they had all been assured was safe. His grandfather had yet to return, the man had sent word to them that he would be delayed, but had not seen fit to explain what had delayed him. His grandfather had however requested Keeky's aid. The House-Elf had disappeared with an eager grin after he had given his assent, the young House-elf had been restless ever since they had fled the Castle and had been eager for new work to occupy her. Despite his amusement at his House-elf's antics, and his time spent teaching his friends the beginnings of Spellweaving, Callian could not shake the feeling that this was merely the calm before the storm.

With his grandfather's absence, it had fallen to his mother to try and keep their guests calm. Amerytha Blackwood was many things, but a peacemaker she was not. He could not help but think that the irate shouting of Douglas Granger was only stoking the flames of a very fiery Dragon when angered, he had to hope that his Dagün and Tyrna could help to mitigate the fallout if things went poorly.

As they had for the last hour, they tried to ignore the angry hum from the next room and their small circle returned to their spell practice. Each of them sat knee to knee with the next in line, five first years slowly passing a pulsating sphere of Magelight between them. Draco was laboriously creating another sphere of light as a loud shout boomed outwards once again.

Harry shot a look over his shoulder at the closed doors before turning back to look at the rest of them. "Damn Hermione, your dad has got a pair of lungs!"

It was as if the tension that had been steadily growing ever since they had left Hogwarts broke about them as the first giggle escaped from Adria quickly followed by the rest of them.

There was little chance of them returning to their spell practice with Douglas Granger's seemingly unending tirade reaching them, so Callian offered to show them more of the Hold.

They left a message with one of the door guards who was unapologetically listening into the adjoining room with his ear pressed to the door. While another of Belor's Household guards, Harl Threespires accompanied them, the burly Dwarf had known Callian since he was a babe and was a long-time companion of his father. A ropey scar ran from the Dwarf's temple to his chin, leaving a thumb thick rent in the oily black beard that was tucked into the stout leather belt that cinched the Dwarf's mail shirt about his even stouter waist. Yet, the ugly puckered wound did not detract from the warrior as a wry grin spread across his face. "Lad, yeh have no idea how much standin' about, listenin' to pissy manlings grates on my tits."

Callian could only laugh as Harl shot the group a searching look, Hermione looked outraged but another loud bellow from her father seemed to steal whatever words she was going to offer in defence of Douglas Granger. Seeing her look, Harl offered her a knowing look. "Be thankful, lass. Yer Da is wanting to pull yeh from the longun's school, it's only thanks to lady Blackwood's understandin' that yeh aren't being escorted from the Hold."

The Dwarf shot a look back towards the way they had come. "Still her patience will only extend so far and he best beware. Ol' Ironmane is in there with yer Dagün and that Dwarf dotes on yer Ma, if the ol' one thinks her Ladyship is in danger then the gods help the longun's."

Hermione looked torn between rushing back to stop her father from making any rash decisions and outrage at the Dwarf's words.

Soon however her concerns were swept away as they stepped from the great doors of The Pillar and stared up at the rising tiers of Kar Zurant's undercity.

Brilliant lamps of ever-burning flames hung about the city, another creation of his grandmother that she had gifted to the Dwarves of the Horn Crags. Their warm amber glow bathed the city in light and allowed the bustling streets to never cease a constant flow of traffic.

No one spoke. They were left staring in awe as they got their first true look at the magnitude and beauty of the Heart of Kar Zurant.

The hours flew past as he led them on a tour of the Undercity, despite the late hour none of them harboured any thoughts of sleep and their Magical practice had only invigorated them further. They had all been suitably impressed when they had taken the great elevator up into the upper city and what many among the Undercity called The Commons.

As always the upper city was even busier than that of the lower levels. It, like many places in the Magical world, never stopped. There were many who operated on a different schedule than those of normal people and as such needed to conduct their business after the sun had set. His father had little care for the ridiculous fears that the Ministry harboured toward those who suffered with such afflictions, as long as they kept the peace and were willing to pay then all were welcome.

Callian soon brought them to halt before a sprawling establishment that was tucked away within a large courtyard off of the main thoroughfare, a stone relief protruding from the wall of the second floor naming the place the Twilight Harvest. He smiled at the line of thick stone planters in the centre of the courtyard, the colourful flora an eye-catching sight as he led the way into the heaving tavern. Patrons, both human and dwarf in various states of sobriety lounged about the main taproom and he could hear a soft drum beat coming from one corner of the room as a young female dwarf began a haunting melody, it was an old song that Tyrna had often sung for him when he had been younger. It spoke of the fall of Kar Vaneth and the flight of the Stormanvil Clan. About the room he could see many of the dwarves staring into their tankards, the memory of his father's people was long indeed and many of the older patrons here had probably survived the sacking of Kar Vaneth.

A great booming laugh greeted them as a Callian waved towards the proprietor, a tall, pale and rake-thin man who stood head and shoulders above the crowd as he made his way towards them.

"My Lord! The hour is late, I would have thought you would be asleep by now!" The man's voice easily cut across the loud chatter of the taproom and Callian grinned as he shook the man's hand eagerly.

"There was trouble at the Castle, Master Dellen. Our parents are still sorting through things back at The Pillar, so I decided to show my friends the wonders of the Crag Horns and there is no place better for good food than the Harvest."

A wide smile split the tavern keeper's face and he heard a gasp behind him as the man's elongated canines became visible for all to see.

Master Dellen turned his attention to those behind Callian, and his smile slipped from his face.

"Worry not children, you have nothing to fear while in the walls of my tavern."

Callian could see that the Vampire's words had done little to ease his friend's fears, and he quickly explained.

"Dellen is a friend of my mother's, they fought together during the War. If the stories they tell are to be believed then he was also a friend of your mother's." He finished with a look at Harry, who turned to stare at the Vampire in a new light.

Dellen gave a slow nod of his head as he turned sad eyes towards Harry. "Your mother was a true gift, there are few in this world with a heart more accepting than hers. She did not care that I had been gifted with my affliction, but instead saw the man beneath the monster."

Harry's eyes seemed to focus on a spot above the Vampire's shoulder as he went very still, Callian felt a tingle creep down his spine as his cousin communed with his mother's spirit.

The strange pseudo-possession always made him uncomfortable but to his second sight the strange flickering miasma of magic at the core of Harry's being as the two souls interacted disturbed him in ways that he could not put into words.

Eventually, Harry focused back on the Vampire, a smile splitting his face. "Then I am glad to meet you, Master Dellen, I am sure you have many stories you could tell me about my mother. I'm sure she would be pleased to know you are safe and well, and finally got everything you dreamed of."

Dellen cocked his head at Harry's words, but before he could question the boy Callian stepped between them as he asked the Tavern keeper if he had a private dining room available for them all. The Vampire nodded and with a last quizzical look towards Harry, he led them down a short corridor towards a flight of stairs leading to the upper floors of the Twilight's Harvest.

They were soon shown into a well-appointed dining room. Thick carpets covered the polished oak floor, and warm light spilt in through a large window that looked down onto the taproom below. The soft haunting melody reached them through some clever enchantment while the other noise of the taproom was muted to the faintest hums.

Master Dellen soon left them after they had ordered a light meal for everyone and a mug of ale for Harl who had plopped himself into one of the padded dining chairs with a sigh of approval.

For the first time since they had fled Castle Blackwood, Callian watched as his friends began to relax. It was a welcomed sight to see as they began to laugh and joke as they settled back into their chairs. Hermione and Adria had taken to teasing Draco over his table manners, as the boy carefully cut his food with small precise movements. To the blonde's surprise, Harry was the one that stepped up to banter away in his defence and Callian found himself smiling as the pleased smile split the Malfoy heir's face. Leaning back into his chair, Callian too felt the tensions of the past few days begin to ebb away. Plucking a morsel of meat from his plate and popped it into his mouth. The shadow of Lord Voldemort seemed to be lifting, at least for the time being. He knew it would not be long before they would have to deal with the Shade once again but for now they could find some measure of peace.

He closed his eyes, content to listen to his friends bantering back and forth. Taking a deep breath he let himself relax and soon found himself balancing on the edge of wakefulness as the tiredness of the past day finally began to catch up to him.

He could feel his head falling forward to rest upon his chest, he found his mind conjuring a thousand skittering images that danced before his eyes so quickly that he could only remember the barest fractions of them. Dwelling within that torrent of images he found himself standing within the Great Hall of Hogwarts, the carnage of the Halloween feast lay all about him as he once more stood before the hulking form of his nightmarish, trollish tormentor.

He wanted to run, but something stopped him as he registered the eerily stillness of his nightmare. For the first time that he could remember he found that he was not being chased by the monstrosity, instead, he found that it had frozen just as it had reached him.

You have the strangest of dreams…

The soft airy voice floated through his mind as he cast his gaze about in search of the newcomer to his nightmare.

There was no one in sight as he tried to reach for his Magic, only to come up short as he found his power hovering just out of reach.

Your Magic doesn't work here I'm afraid…

Callian desperately reached for his Magic, ignoring the voice that seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. For the first time since he had first instinctively used his magic when he was a child, he found himself unable to draw from his Reservoir.

With a howl of frustration, he turned to stare about the ruins of the Great Hall. "WHO ARE YOU!?"

His cry seemed to echo about him for several long seconds before he heard the snapping of twigs behind him and he spun to find that his surroundings had changed.

He now stood upon the worked stone of the Syphon stone in the heart of the Forbidden Forest.

This is one of my favourites…

He stared at the still form of the Seeker of Secrets, as the Dwarven God stood before the twisting roots of the great tree. He had had this dream the day after he had returned from Hogwarts, only in his dream the Seeker of Secrets merely watched from afar as the Syphon Stone pulled away all of his Magic until he had woken in a cold sweat.

"Favourite! Who in Merlin's name are you!"

An innocent giggle answered him as he spun once more to see himself asleep in the chair he knew he was sitting in at this very minute. The room about him was blurred as if it was out of focus, and he had to strain to just make out the end of the table where he knew his friends had been sitting only to find them missing.

Their absence sent an unpleasant thrill running through them and he began to call for them in the hopes that one of them would hear him, but only silence answered him as his panicked voice echoed back to him.

They are still there, back in the real world…

Callian found himself staring at the indistinct figure that stepped from behind the chair his dream figure was sitting in.

Callian made to grab what he thought was a girl but the flickering image flitted through his fingers like mist, seemingly out of reach just as his own Magic refused to answer him.

"Who. Are. You!" He snarled as once more tried to seize the stranger.

I am a dreamer. I'm not supposed to reach out to people like this, but your dreams are so interesting I couldn't help myself…

Callian wanted to scream in frustration. The voice was definitely feminine and quite young if he was to guess, but trying to get answers from them was like trying to draw blood from a stone.

"Dreamer? What the hell is a Dreamer?! You still haven't told me who you are!"

He caught the flash of large silvery-grey eyes widening in horror before they winked out of existence as he heard a watery gurgle behind him. This time when he turned around he did scream as he fell backwards as he stared at the eldritch abomination that hovered at the edge of his strange blurred perception.

The Chthonic figure of Sargh' Zhulish stared at the spot where the strange figure had been standing with an indecipherable look upon its alien face before he turned back to look at Callian. Several long seconds stretched between them before Callian found himself hauled to his feet as Sarg' Zhulish pulled him none too gently from the floor.

"You should not be here Child."

Callian found himself unable to speak as he stared at the creature, this was one of the few times that he was about it that he did not have either Jastor or his grandfather with him and he felt suddenly very vulnerable.

"You have nothing to fear from me child, but this place is not for you. The world of dreams holds many dangers for the unwary. I will return you to the mortal world."

Before he could question the creature, Sargh' Zhulish grasped his head and with a sickening lurch he found himself lurching forward in his chair with a gasp as he stared across the table at his laughing friends as they continued to banter back and forth.

He felt a hand upon his shoulder and he flinched violently as he jumped up to stare into the concerned face of Harl as the Dwarf raised his hands in the hopes of calming him.

"Yeh alrigh' lad? Yeh were gettin' a mite twitchy in yer sleep."

Callian cast a look about the room searching for some sign of his dreamland visitors, but thankfully there was nothing to see.

"Sorry Harl, just a few bad dreams."

The dwarf gave him a long searching look before he gave a nod of acceptance at his words.

"I don't blame yeh lad, yeh and yer friends have been through the gauntlet recently. But take it from someone older and hopefully a little wiser than yeh, talk to someone about the bad things before they swallow yeh."

Callian just gave a slight motion of his head, whether he was agreeing or not he was not sure. A soft knock on the door sounded before they found themselves being greeted by the thin face of Dellen telling them someone had arrived to collect them.

Soon Jastor stepped into the room, but the older wizard did not take his gaze from Callian as he escorted them from the tavern and opened a portal for them.

It seemed that Sargh' Zhulish had told his friend where to find them, and judging from the erratic wizard's gaze he had some explaining to do.