Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter or Eragon universes.

Edit 11-03-25: This Chapter was edited by TheDarkRanger1160, big thank you!

Any mistakes that remain are my own.

Harry woke up with the first rays of the sun. After keeping an eye out for Eragon the night before, he'd quite collapsed as soon as his head hit the pillow of his bed.

He rubbed his eyes and held his wand in his hands. As always, he felt the familiar warmth of his faithful partner.

Lifting his heavy head, Harry focused his attention on an empty jug that sat placidly upon the nearby table. Gripping his wand firmly, he extended it towards the object, its tip poised and ready.

"Accio," Harry murmured. He stared angrily at the jug, which wobbled slightly before finally coming to a stop.

What was he doing wrong?

He could feel his magic, but it always seemed to slip out of his fingers.

With a sigh of resignation, Harry recognized that dwelling on his lack of progress would do little to improve the situation. Determined to find solace and perhaps a fresh perspective, he made his way outside, seeking the open air and the embrace of nature.

As Harry ventured further into the outdoors, a gust of cold air enveloped him, causing a slight shiver to run through his body. The wintry landscape unfolded before him, blanketed in a pristine layer of snow that sparkled under the sunlight. Undeterred by the chill, he continued on his path.

With a nimble leap, Harry effortlessly cleared the small stream that ran near his house, marking his entrance into the spine. Along the way, he could see some broken branches and oversized footprints.

He was glad that none of the villagers went into that part of the spine. The revelation of Artemis's presence would have ignited a cascade of troublesome events, which would have disrupted the tranquillity of the past weeks and set off a chain reaction of unforeseen circumstances.

It took a few minutes before he reached his destination. His eyes widened for a second before he could suppress the impulse.

He still couldn't believe that Artemis had hatched for him and was bonded to him.

Artemis's scales shimmered with an otherworldly brilliance, akin to the pristine, snowy peaks of the most breathtaking mountains. With each movement, her scales reflected the light, creating a play of iridescent hues that danced across her form. It was a sight that filled his heart with a deep appreciation for the wonders of the natural world, reminding Harry of the profound bond he shared with her.

Saphira was lying next to Artemis and by the looks of it, both had been successful in their hunt.

At least that's what the remains of the bones showed.

The snow creaked under his feet, drawing the attention of the two dragons to himself.

"How is Eragon?" Saphira demanded of him.

Harry greeted Artemis and rubbed her jaw.

"Eragon is doing better. He had a high fever the night before last, but that went away yesterday morning," he answered truthfully. He didn't want the dragon's anger directed at him.

Saphira bowed her head, and her shoulders sagged. The relief to hear that her rider was somewhat better was clear to see.

"And his uncle?" Artemis asked curiously.

Harry shook his head. "He is not well. Gertrude and I helped him as much as we could, but the injuries took a lot of energy out of him."

He shrugged his shoulders. "While Garrow is strong, I don't know if he will survive the night."

Saphira closed her eyes and let out a deep, painful growl.

Harry flinched when she bared her teeth at them and smacked her tail against a tree, shattering it into a thousand pieces with her might.

"Murderer," Saphira snarled.

Artemis stepped protectively in front of Harry, but Saphira turned her head away.

"Do you know who the strangers were?" Harry asked Saphira when she seemed to have calmed down.

"Egg thieves, traitors," Saphira thundered. She flexed her hind legs and flew beyond the trees.

"She's confused," Artemis muttered to Harry. "And confusion leads to anger. And anger-"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Alright, stop. Don't you dare start quoting Yoda on me."

Artemis showed her white teeth as she grinned brightly.

"Eragon blames her for Garrow's injuries, while she is certain that she saved Eragon's life. I would have done the same if I was in her position." Artemis bent down slightly and looked into his eyes. Her blue eyes sparkled with her determination.

Harry walked up to her and rubbed the scales between her eyes.

"Eragon has not yet lost anyone close to him," Harry said, while Artemis enjoyed the caresses.

"He'll need time to emotionally heal. Time he might not have," Artemis argued.

Harry shook his head. Eragon was too young to be drawn into all of this.

Artemis had followed his thoughts.

"Sirius would have been proud of you."

Harry gave Artemis a weak smile. "Who knows... I should leave. Maybe Eragon is awake already."

"Then go," Artemis nudged him, and he fell backwards in the snow.

She ignored the complaints of her rider and blew a puff of smoke in his face.

"Eragon will need you."

"Hello Harry," Gertrude greeted him with a weary smile.

"How's it going?" Harry asked and offered her a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

He looked at Eragon, who lay motionless in bed.

"His leg injuries have healed very well," Gertrude remarked. "His fever is gone, too. All we have to wait for is for him to wake up."

Gertrude let out a sigh of resignation and turned her gaze towards the window, where she observed the renewed vigour of the wind.

"It looks like a storm is coming to us. Take care of Eragon, Harry. I'll see how Garrow is faring," Gertrude replied.

Harry nodded. "Let me know if his condition changes."

Gertrude quickly left the house, and Harry took her place to watch Eragon.

Her home had hardly changed over the years. It still consisted of the simple bed that Eragon laid on and the fireplace that filled the room with warmth.

Harry's train of thought was interrupted by a barely audible groan. He watched Eragon move and helped the young man sit up.

"Where am I?" Eragon murmured. He gratefully accepted the pitcher of water Harry handed him to soothe his dry throat.

"You're with Gertrude. You just missed her," Harry explained, and started to chop vegetables to prepare a warm soup for Eragon.

The water was already boiling at the fireplace and with the few spices that Gertrude had, he didn't have much to choose from.

It didn't take long for the soup to be ready. Eragon wasted no time and quickly consumed the nourishing soup, finishing it in just a few swift and eager swallows.

"No wonder you were so hungry," Harry remarked with concern. "It's been almost three days since you've lost consciousness."

Eragon stared at him, his mouth slightly agape.

Harry smirked. "You know, usually I was the one who was bedridden. It feels like a change of fate."

Eragon gulped. "Three days?" he asked quietly.

Harry nodded and took the empty bowl from him.

"What about Uncle Garrow? How is he?" Eragon demanded, his eyes wide with fear.

Harry exhaled slowly. "Do you want to know the truth?"

Eragon's eyes widened, and his face grew pale. Despite everything, he nodded resolutely.

"He's not well. His injuries have left him very weak, and he still has a high fever. Gertrude is with him right now," Harry explained.

Eragon covered his eyes with his arm. Tears ran down his cheeks.

"It's all my fault," Eragon sobbed. Harry wasn't sure what to do, and instinctively placed a comforting hand on Eragon's shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Eragon-"

Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open, and the cold wind extinguished the fire in one go.

Before them stood Brom, his visage etched with anger, casting a stern gaze in their direction.

"It's good to see you're awake," Brom said to Eragon, taking the nearest chair. He moved to Eragon's bedside, and before he could even react, Brom grabbed Eragon's right hand.

The old man looked carefully at the Gedwëy Ignasia, the mark of the Dragon Riders.

"Shit," Brom muttered under his breath.

"Hey!" Eragon cried, pulling his hand away from Brom.

"When were you planning to tell me about this?" Brom snapped and turned towards Harry.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I had other concerns, and it wasn't like you were around in the last few days."

"Where have you been anyway?" Harry questioned him when he noticed the laceration on Brom's head.

But Brom waved him off. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that there is another Dragon Rider, and you did not tell me about him!"

Brom then turned towards Eragon, who was looking at them with questioning looks.

"Who are you really? How do you even know that I'm a Dragon Rider?!" Eragon frowned and glared accusingly at Harry, who quickly raised his arms in defence.

"I didn't tell him anything," Harry promised.

Brom nodded. "That's right. Anyone with eyes could have figured that out the same way I did. You weren't very...careful when you left Garrow's farm."

Harry raised an eyebrow questioningly as a thought struck him.

"The footprints," he said with wide eyes.

Brom agreed. "Exactly. On top of that, a certain someone came up to me not long ago and asked me dozens of question about dragons. It wasn't difficult to link one to the other."

Feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over him, Eragon averted his gaze, unable to meet Brom's and Harry's eyes as they bore into him.

"You should go see Horst," Brom said to Eragon.

"Horst?" Eragon asked, confused.

"Garrow has been placed with Horst. He's getting worse."

Eragon paled. "Why are you only saying that now?"

He was about to move out of bed, but Brom held him back with a strong arm.

"I will give you until tomorrow, then you will have to decide what you are going to do." He gave Eragon a harsh look.

Eragon just stared at him.

"You have to choose," Brom let go of him, and this time, his eyes shone at him gently. "Are you going to leave Carvahall, or stay until you are discovered, and the king's servants start hunting you? The fate of Alagaёsia is in your hands, but what will happen? Will you join the king or the Varden? Will it end in tragedy?"

Brom ignored Harry's scowl. "Are you the one destined to kill Galbatorix? All fascinating questions, and I will do everything in my might to be there with every step you take. After all, I am a storyteller at heart. But first, go see your uncle."

Shortly thereafter, Brom said goodbye and Harry helped Eragon to Horst. Brom raised many questions, but there was one that stood out for Harry.

What are you hiding, Brom?

"Harry? Shouldn't you be watching Eragon-?" Katrina asked, who opened the door to Horst's house.

Katrina raised an eyebrow when she saw Eragon standing behind Harry. "It's good to see you awake, Eragon."

Harry and Eragon crossed the threshold and found themselves in a large, well-lit room.

Elain, Horst's wife, was standing at the bottom of the stairs. She gave Eragon a sad smile and nodded encouragement. "Your uncle is upstairs in the next room. Gertrude is with him. Would you like-?"

Before she could finish her sentence, Eragon rushed forward and limped up the stairs as fast as he could.

Filled with concern, Harry attentively watched as Eragon retreated upstairs, his footsteps echoing through the silence until they were replaced by the sound of a door forcefully slamming shut.

"How is Garrow faring?" Harry inquired.

"Garrow is fighting, but he's getting worse and worse. If nothing changes soon, well, we can only hope for a miracle. Garrow is stubborn, but he's also reached his age," Horst answered, as he entered through the front door.

Harry clenched his fists. Why couldn't he use his magic now of all times?

"Can you explain to us what happened?" Horst asked.

Harry grimaced inwardly. He could not tell them the truth.

"I had an appointment with Garrow. I wanted to ask him if he could plant some dittany, in exchange he would get to keep some of the medicine. Then, when I saw black smoke rising from the barn, I ran, but it was already too late. Eragon came at the same time out of the woods, and we found Garrow in the rubble," he lied.

"Poor boy," Elain exclaimed, she clasped her hands and held them up to cover her mouth.

"How did his injuries come about?" Horst now leaned forward with interest. "We have found tracks of a gigantic beast that I have never seen in my life. Did you see something?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, which Katrina quickly noticed. "Harry, you're clearly exhausted. Would you like to lie down?"

Harry nodded his thanks and followed her out of the room. "Rest, Harry. Then you can pick a story that's fitting for you."

"Katrina, I-"

"Stop," Katrina demanded.

"No more lies, Harry. I know you too well, and you're a terrible liar. I've known for a long time that you keep certain things secret," she whispered.

She glanced at him sadly. "I hope that one day you can tell me everything."

Before Harry could say anything, Katrina left the room, leaving Harry alone.

He slumped on the bed and stared at the closed door. "You have no idea."

As dawn broke, Harry stirred from his slumber, the early morning light casting a pale glow in the room. The chill in the air was palpable, making his breath visible as it formed a misty cloud. He glanced towards the window, where the first rays of the sun burst forth, painting the sky with a soft, golden hue.

He got up quietly and walked down the hall where, to his surprise, the door to Garrow's room was open. His heart dropped when he saw a crowd of people standing in his room. Harry stepped cautiously forward, while he heard someone sob.

Eragon was sitting on the floor, tears streaming down his cheeks as Elain held him close.

Harry looked ahead and saw how peacefully Garrow lay in bed. He looked like he was about to let out a bit of wisdom, which Harry had come to appreciate.

His eyes remained closed, and no words escaped his lips.

Katrina stood next to Harry and grabbed his hand tightly. "I was hoping to call him father one day," she whispered, so only Harry could hear.

Her eyes were red from crying.

Harry squeezed her hand when he remembered something. It seemed years since he woke up from the fight against Quirrell in the hospital wing and heard those words.

"To the well-organized mind, death is but the next adventure," Harry whispered. Eragon looked up, his eyes filled with despair, but something started to shimmer in them.

As the cold wind whipped around them, Harry and his companion braced themselves against its biting chill. In the distance, he could see a squirrel dancing between the snow-covered branches.

Harry rubbed his tired eyes. After Garrow's death, he barely slept and had helped the villagers with the funeral. It was a simple funeral, but it stirred unfamiliar feelings in Harry.

It was the first time he attended a funeral. When his godfather died, there was no body to bury and no burial either, because who would throw a funeral for a suspected mass murderer?

Harry snorted and pulled his robes more tightly around him.

It was sad to watch as Garrow's body was laid in the earth, but there was a certain acceptance and closure as the earth was poured over the grave.

With one last look at the grave, Harry turned away. He followed the path to the burnt courtyard where Katrina and Eragon stood.

Eragon's face was still pale, his eyes were red from crying and showed a fire of determination.

"How are you?" Harry asked cautiously.

Eragon shrugged.

"All right," he murmured.

Katrina looked at Eragon in concern. "Come, we should warm ourselves by the fire."

But Eragon shook his head and looked towards the farm. Nature had already begun to take its share back. Snow and mud covered the rubble and hid what had happened.

"I just want to be alone right now," Eragon croaked out, and walked slowly towards his former home.

Katrina started to follow him, but Harry stopped her by grabbing her shoulder.

"Go ahead, I'll be right behind with Eragon," Harry said.

"Alright, but don't take too long," Katrina muttered and headed towards the village.

Harry followed Eragon and watched as he reached through the snow with one hand and pulled something out. It was a small box decorated with small stones. The lid was coloured black and hung loosely on its hinges.

"Garrow gifted it to Aunt Marian when Roran and I were little. We've kept all our life savings there ever since."

Eragon gripped the box tightly in his hands, which caused the lid to snap off and fall to the ground.

"I'll have to leave Carvahall," Eragon said determinedly.

Harry lifted the lid of the box and handed it to Eragon.

"And you won't be alone, but remember one thing," Harry said.

Eragon looked down at the memento in his hands.

"Never forget where you come from and who you are. Once you do, they will win without hesitation."

Harry smiled weakly. "Come, we should go prepare and tell Brom about your decision."

Eragon nodded hesitantly and turned away from the farm with one last look.

"Who are they?" he asked uncertainly, as they followed the path to the village.

Harry wrapped his arm around Eragon's shoulders.

"I have no idea."

The next morning, Harry met Brom and Eragon outside the village.

"Harry! It's about time you came," Brom snapped at him.

Harry narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"Something happened?" he asked cautiously. The two looked rather grumpy. While Eragon's anger could be attributed to the loss of his uncle, the source of Brom's intense anger remained a mystery to Harry.

"This… boy wants to travel after the Ra'zac. Although, we have much better things to do," Brom said, glaring at Eragon.

"The Ra'zac?" Harry asked, confused.

"They were the ones which killed Garrow! Who says they won't be coming back? I will find them and kill them," Eragon vowed determinedly.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Revenge can distract you from your goals."

"Wise words," Brom said, his eyes widening as he saw the two dragons approach them.

Brom could still hardly believe it. For the first time since the fall, they had a real fighting chance.

"What's her name?" Brom whispered to Eragon, not daring to take his eyes off the blue dragon, afraid this was all just a dream.

His breath was stuck in his throat. She reminded him so much of her.

"Saphira," Eragon answered.

Brom closed his eyes in forgotten pain.

Of Course.

Old memories of his partner flashed in front of his eyes, while Saphira studied Brom intently.

"It was the only name that pleased her," Eragon argued, while Harry carefully greeted Saphira.

The last time they had met, she had flown away angry. He wouldn't tempt fate to suddenly become dragon fodder.

"I will protect you," Artemis snorted through their bond.

"We should be going," Brom murmured.

Eragon nodded. He took one last look at the burned farm and started walking with clenched hands.

Harry allowed Ares to walk beside him. He took one last look around before he followed the two.

"I hope the letter will do," Harry said through their connection.

"She's going to be mad," Artemis remarked. "Like really mad."

Harry made a face as he pictured Katrina reading the letter, he had left her.

"It's better this way."

He would prefer for her to be angry at him, than for her to know something that could endanger her. He would not risk her life.

"If you say so."

She broke the connection and eagerly flew off with Saphira.

"I still don't understand what's so dangerous about the Ra'zac," Eragon grumbled, with his arms folded.

"They will never stand a chance against Saphira and me," he continued to complain.

Harry rolled his eyes. He was busy making some soup for them and had to spend the last few minutes listening to Eragon's bitching.

Which was understandable. Eragon was only sixteen and needed to let his emotions out, and of course was full of teenage bravado.

Especially after everything that had happened to him over the past few days.

Harry grimaced when he remembered the little tantrum he threw in Dumbledore's office.

"Little?" Artemis chuckled.

"But it was deserved," Harry argued with her. "He shouldn't have lied to me."

"You're right," Artemis admitted. "If he wasn't dead, I would tear him apart with my claws for everything he had done to you."

Harry suppressed a shiver. He could imagine that quite well.

"Thanks for looking out for me," Harry snorted, taking the soup off the fire, which was finally done.

"Always."

Harry returned his attention to Eragon and Brom's conversation.

"-not much is known about them. But I can tell you one thing: they are not humans."

"How many of them are there?" Eragon asked curiously.

"I only know of those you've met. There might be more, but I don't know about that." Brom accepted the bowl of soup from Harry gratefully.

"You must know that the Ra'zac are the king's personal dragon hunters. Wherever there were rumours of a new dragon, the king would send them to investigate."

Brom blew out a series of colour-changing smoke squiggles. "And each time they left a trail of death behind."

Harry had a huge grin on his face when he heard Eragon complain about Brom.

It felt good to know that Eragon felt, just as he did, when Brom started practicing the sword with him.

Since Eragon's legs quickly healed thanks to the Diptam, Brom came up with the idea of having Harry fight Eragon.

At first, Eragon stood with confidence, but after a few moments, Harry was able to take advantage of Eragon's poor defence and hit him around the arms with his stick.

Brom then explained to Eragon and taught him in the same way he once did with Harry, with lots and lots of bruising.

While Harry had disagreed about it in the beginning, he couldn't complain about the results. Brom had been a strict teacher, but that was how Harry quickly mastered the use of a sword.

Even so, he would hate to be in Eragon's shoes. Harry chuckled inwardly because he knew exactly what was in store for Eragon.

But one thing had to be handed to Eragon.

He showed incredible willpower and kept getting up, even though he was knocked down every time and was visibly exhausted.

Harry knew immediately that Brom wanted to push Eragon to his physical limits, but it turned out that both of them were just as stubborn and neither wanted to give in.

Eventually, Brom had enough.

"That's enough for today," Brom announced exhaustedly. "It's late and my old bones hurt. We'll continue tomorrow."

Eragon gasped and crawled around the fire to his sleeping place.

Taking pity on Eragon, Harry threw him an ointment against bruises to lessen the pain.

"Take this, Eragon. Apply this to the areas that hurt, and the pain should subside somewaht for tomorrow," Harry explained.

Eragon took the ointment and gently rubbed his legs. Noticing how quickly the ointment was working against the pain, he eagerly began rubbing all the areas that were sore.

Harry found it amusing that even with the ointment he gave Eragon, his muscles appeared to be quite sore the next day.

"Mighty warrior," Brom snorted.

Eragon heard the old man and shot him a glare.

Eragon walked in short strides, grimacing when the ground was uneven and there were obstacles to be overcome.

The Spine was a dangerous place for a reason, and nobody should underestimate it. He was after all one of the few brave people from the village to hunt in the spine.

During the day, they finally reached Therinsford.

They were about to cross a bridge that spanned the Anora River when a dark figure appeared from the bushes.

Harry moved his hand to his wand, remembering that he still hadn't had any success in using his magic.

He still had enough rune stones in stock, but it was only a matter of time before they too would run out.

'I really need a weapon,' he thought with a grim face.

As the figure stepped into the light, Harry relaxed his grip and chuckled.

In front of them was a greasy man with his back bent, blocking their way to the bridge.

He gave them a wide grin that bared his miserable, black, rotting teeth.

"If you can still call those teeth," he said quietly, and Eragon snorted next to him. It reminded Harry of the time his cousin Dudley came home from a boxing match with half of his teeth missing.

He slowly stroked Ares' dark mane as the man approached them with false confidence. Ares was looking at the man in disdain.

"Hello fellers. This is my bridge. Going over wil' cost ye' something."

Brom sighed and Harry raised an eyebrow as he pulled his purse out.

"How much?"

"Five crowns," the man replied with a greedy smirk.

From the angry look on Eragon's face, the gaps between the man's teeth would soon widen, but Brom silenced Eragon with a look before he could say anything.

The man provocatively placed the coins one by one in his sack of coins that he wore on his belt.

He stepped aside and bowed mockingly to them.

"Thank ye' very much."

As Brom stepped forward, he stumbled and caught the man's arm to support himself.

"Watch ye' step," the filthy man snarled at him.

"Bastard," the man murmured softly and walked away.

"Sorry!" Brom apologized.

"Not bad, for an old guy like you, Brom," Harry laughed as they walked across the bridge.

Eragon gave Harry a puzzled look. "What do you mean? He just lost five crowns!"

"Are you sure?" Harry asked with a big smile, looking over at Brom.

"You can't argue with every fool in the world," Brom said, opening his hand with a pile of coins glittering in the sunlight.

"You stole those!" Eragon exclaimed, and Harry laughed as they heard a screech and swearing in the distance.

Eragon stared at the storyteller while Brom grinned. Meanwhile, Harry just caught a boy running away from his friends between two houses.

"Do you know where we can buy horses?" Harry asked, and Brom gave the boy a coin as he pointed them the way.

Two long rows of stables could be seen behind the barn's open double doors. At the end of the aisle stood a strong-armed man, grooming a white stallion.

"That's a beautiful animal," Brom remarked as they approached him.

"Yes indeed. His name is Snowfire and mine is Haberth."

He greeted all three with a firm handshake. There was a short pause while Haberth waited for them to introduce themselves.

When this did not happen, he asked, "What can I do for you?"

Brom nodded. "We need two horses with saddles and bridles. The horses have to be quick and have stamina, we have a long journey ahead of us."

"Just two?" he asked, and Harry answered for Brom.

"I've got my own. I met them both on the journey and will accompany them at least till Yazuac," Harry explained.

Haberth nodded and thought for a moment. "I don't have many animals that would even qualify, and the ones that do don't come cheap."

He eyed them as if gauging whether they could afford the price.

"The price is irrelevant. I'll take the best you have," Brom said.

Haberth nodded, surprised and started taking down saddles and other items. A little later, two identical heaps lay on the ground. Next, he walked along the hallway between the stalls and brought out two horses. One was a fox with light mane, the other a roan.

"He's a bit hot-tempered, but you won't have any problems with a strong hand," Haberth said.

Brom allowed the horse to sniff his hand.

"We'll take him," he said, then regarded the roan. "I'm not sure about the other one."

"He's a fast runner."

"Hmm… What do you charge for Snowfire?"

Brom took a coin from his pouch and began tapping it on the stable.

Haberth averted his eyes from the coin and looked lovingly at the stallion. "Actually, I didn't want to sell him at all. He is the finest steed I have bred - I intend to use him as a stud."

"If you were willing to break up with him, how much would it cost me all in all?" Brom asked.

"No less than two hundred crowns!" declared Haberth. Brom smirked, "Done" and started to count out the required coin.

Haberth sighed, "Though it pains me to sell him, I accept, just take good care of him." Brom nodded his head and reassured the man that he would treat the horse like some horse from legend, Harry had stopped paying attention at that point and didn't catch the name.

Eragon tried to pet the fox on the neck like Brom had done, but the animal flinched away.

Harry did the same to the brown one, and this one leaned into his hand.

Animals have always interested him. They never really had a problem with him and in his free time, he had often helped Hagrid with his numerous animals.

Brom made the deal with Haberth, and as they walked away, Brom placed the reins of Snowfire in Eragon's hands.

"Go to the other side of the town and wait for me there."

Before Eragon could say anything, Brom had disappeared between the houses.

Eragon and Harry were waiting at the outskirts of the village and watched Harry interact with Ares and then finally said frustrated, "I wish Brom would just answer my questions."

Harry nodded. "I felt the same way when I was your age. There is often a good reason why some questions are not answered."

Harry looked into Eragon's face. "Whether you can accept that and live with it is another matter entirely."

"I still hate it," Eragon grunted, annoyed with the situation. Brom returned shortly, and Eragon immediately asked where he had been.

"You won't let me rest even for a second," Brom laughed and then continued. "I asked around if the Ra'zac passed the village," he explained.

"And? Did they come here?" Harry asked.

"They came here, too. Like us, they have bought horses. I met a man who saw them. He described them riding as if death itself was chasing them."

Harry mounted Ares, and he could feel the stallion's eagerness in his mind.

"Then we should be quick to follow them."

Harry kept a little distance from Brom and Eragon, wanting to be alone for the moment, and was not keen on Eragon's many questions.

Harry smiled sadly.

Eragon bore too many resemblances to Hermione.

A few hours passed and Harry was the first to reach the Dragon Riders' outpost.

It was the only place where they could leave the Palancar-Valley with their horses.

All around them, the peaks cast a wide shadow over them, as if the sun were hiding from them.

It was a gigantic mountain, on the top of which stood a mighty tower. Harry squinted and could see from afar that part of the walls had collapsed. But the tower still stood, keeping watch over the valley.

Harry eyed the place. He had read about it.

Ristvak'baen, the place of sorrow or as the commoners called it by another name - Utgard.

The place where Vrael, the last leader of the Dragon Riders, was killed by Galbatorix.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Artemis asked suddenly.

"I do not know. This place...can you feel the sorrow in the air? After all these years, the magic has still not forgotten what transpired here."

Through their bond, he could feel that Artemis sensed it as well.

"Nature still sings the song of agony."

"That's right," Harry said, listening with one ear to Brom as he continued to tell Eragon about Zar'roc.

"I really need my own sword," Harry frowned.

"I'm glad you don't have the silver-sword with you," Artemis said after a moment.

"Do you mean Gryffindor's sword? Why?" Harry asked, confused.

Harry could feel Artemis unease. "I do not like it. In the wrong hands, this sword is too dangerous."

Harry could understand Artemis' discomfort.

Dragons are supposed to be the supreme hunters. The idea of losing a fight to just a small scratch from a sword, would unsettle any proud creature. It would've helped immensely against the Black King's dragon, but he understood how she felt.

"You're right. Still, I should see to a sword. Let's hope we will find a blacksmith in the next village."

Artemis seemed to disagree with him. "You won't need a sword as long as I'm with you, Harry."

A/N: Initially I wanted to let Garrow live, but eventually I decided against it. In my opinion, his uncle's death was one of his greatest motivations for opposing Galbatorix. Of course there is a certain event coming up, but as far as i remember I don't think Eragon really connected Yazuac with Glabatorix.

No worries, Harry will keep his magic. It's only temporary.