A/N: I'm so sorry for the long wait you guys, but here I finally have another chapter for you. I would love to hear what you have to say about it so leave me a review and let me know what you think!

Chapter 17

Radagast the Brown

It had taken them a total of twelve days to reach Radagast's dwelling, twelve days spent riding in vicious weather with the wind and rain unceasingly whipping about them. Every inch of Harry was drenched to the bone, his clothes clinging to his flesh like a second skin, rubbing uncomfortably whenever he shifted in his saddle. It had been a miserable journey from beginning to end, and the fact that his companion did not seem bothered by the weather only made Harry's mood darken. As petty as it made him, it would have been of some comfort to him had he had someone to commiserate in his misery. Glorfindel, the damned perfect creature he was, seemed to be untouched by the rain entirely, as if it was a sin against nature itself for the droplets to even come near the elf. To make matters worse, Harry found it impossible to direct his misery at Glorfindel as the elf had gone out of his way to make Harry as comfortable as possible, lending him his dry clothes and giving him the best spot by the fire at night. Therefore, Harry was left to stew in his own misery.

Radagast's cottage, in all its crookedness and with all its oddities, was a welcome, if not peculiar sight. Strictly speaking, the cottage should not have been standing. It tilted dangerously to one side, looking ready to fall over at the slightest breeze. Moss covered the entirety of the roof, with the exception of the chimney where grey smoke flew into the air. Enormous trees surrounded it on all edges, standing so close that it almost appeared as if the branches of the trees were holding up the structure. Had it not been for the steady stream of light shining through the windows Harry would have thought it to be nothing more than an abandoned cottage.

"It's quite an odd place to live, wouldn't you say?" Harry turned to Glorfindel, a hesitant look on his face. "Are you certain we shouldn't have turned east at the last crossing?"

"This is our destination." There was no doubt in Glorfindel's voice as the elf dismounted his horse, gently guiding the animal towards the stable, or rather, the shack that acted as the stable.

Harry remained seated for a moment, ignoring the constant drizzle of rain as he observed Radagast's home once more. It certainly had not been what he had expected, but then again Harry was not certain of what he had expected in the first place. Something more than this, surely.

There was warmth practically radiating from the cottage, however, and the prospect of escaping the rain and changing into some dry clothes chased away any hesitation lingering in his chest. With a quiet grunt, he swung down from his horse, giving it a gentle pat along the neck before gripping the reigns and following Glorfindel to the stables. Despite its ramshackle appearance, the stable seemed to have been built solidly enough, easily providing protection from both the wind and the rain.

"Have you met him before? The wizard?" Harry questioned as he began the process of stripping his horse of the saddle.

"No," the elf murmured, brushing down his stallion with some hay. "I've never had the pleasure, though I've heard of him, mostly from Lord Elrond."

"And what did he have to say about him?"

"Nothing much. He described him as a peaceful creature with a love for animals and all things that grow." Having finished with his horse, Glorfindel turned to Harry, helping him lift the saddle from the horse's back. "He is a solitary being who does not care for the troubles of Men. Because of this, he prefers isolation over socialisation, and finds more pleasure in the company of animals than he will ever find in ours."

"If he so cherishes his isolation how can we be certain he will lend any help to me?" Harry frowned.

"We can't," Glorfindel said, glancing at the cottage, "but the fact that he hasn't chased us away yet allows for some hope. I do not believe he is the sort of wizard who would suffer undue intruders in his sanctuary."

Leaving his horse in one of the booths in the stable, Harry moved to join Glorfindel at the entrance of the stables, green eyes narrowing as movement could be seen through the windows of the cottage. "How should we approach him?"

"We knock," Glorfindel replied, silently moving towards the slanting door of Radagast's home.

There did not seem to be nearly enough distance between them and the cottage, and Harry was entirely unprepared when they reached the door in mere seconds. The sound of Glorfindel's fist hitting the wood of the door echoed loudly in the night. Harry's body tensed in anticipation when he heard the sound of someone moving in response to the prospect of seeing Radagast the Brown was both exciting and terrifying, and Harry could not quite settle on which feeling was more appropriate.

Time stood still as the door swung open, its hinges squeaking in protest. Harry narrowed his eyes curiously, as he finally laid eyes on the wizard. Just as his voice was far from that of Gandalf, his appearance was also the opposite. Where Gandalf was tall and slender, Radagast was short and stocky, his hair a dark brown with a sprinkle of grey and his beard, whilst very impressive, could not be compared to that of the Grey Wizard. He looked far more ordinary than Harry could ever have imagined. In fact, the only remarkable feature that could be found on him were his eyes. They were the deepest green Harry had ever seen, as if all the colours of the forest had merged into one and gathered in Radagast's eyes.

"Well, what are you standing there for?" Radagast's bushy eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance. "Give me a proper greeting, or did the Halflings, with all their politeness, fail to teach you manners?"

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Harry quickly introduced himself, flushing as he stumbled over his words. It had been a long time since he had been so affected by another person. He felt like a child being reprimanded and could not seem to get a hold of himself, much to the amusement of Glorfindel who was smirking beside him.

A sigh, as if an immense burden had been laid upon his shoulders, escaped the wizard as he stepped aside. "Come in then, before you catch your death. Gandalf would have my head should anything happen to you."

The inside of the cottage was surprisingly cosy, and where the front of the house was messy and looking ready to fall apart, the inside was straight and tidy. The fire was crackling pleasantly, providing a warmth Harry found he appreciated immensely. The layout of the cottage was quite basic, and with the exception of one room—Radagast's bedroom, Harry suspected—the entire cottage was made out of one space, joining both the kitchen and living room together. There was nothing fancy about the wizard's living arrangements, no flair for decorations as there had been in Caras Galadhon, yet Harry could honestly say that he found it to be a comfortable living space.

"Have a seat then," Radagast said and gestured towards the three chairs by the fire. "I'll put the kettle on."

Tentatively, Harry moved further into the room, quietly approaching the chairs and hovering uncertainly for a moment before lowering himself in the one closest to the fireplace. The warmth from the crackling fire immediately washed over him, and with a sigh, he relaxed into the softness of the chair. The sound of Radagast moving about in the kitchen was comforting. It reminded him of Bag End and the evenings spent in the company of Bilbo and Frodo with a steaming cup of tea. A stab of longing hit him at the thought. It seemed such a long time since they had left behind the rolling hills of the Shire, and Harry hadn't had much time to miss the place. Until now that was. He could practically see Sam's old Gaffer tending to his prized vegetables, could hear the sound of children laughing and running around echoing through the hills. He could hear Bilbo and Frodo bickering in the kitchen as he was seated in his favourite chair, reading his favourite book in Bilbo's study.

The sound of teacups being placed on a wooden table startled him, harshly shattering the memory of Bag End and dragging Harry away from his thoughts and back to the unforgiving reality that he might not live to see Bag End again. It was a sobering notion. His stomach rolled uncomfortably at the thought, nausea hitting him like a tidal wave and chasing away any desire for the cup of hot tea sitting before him. Despite this, he followed Glorfindel's example and grabbed a hold of the cup, taking a small sip before putting it back down on the table. The sweetness of the liquid did nothing to assuage his nausea and he barely managed to keep the grimace off his face.

"I apologize for our late intrusion," Glorfindel's steady voice sounded from beside him, breaking the heavy silence in the room. "We had originally expected to arrive sometime this afternoon when we were unexpectedly delayed."

"No matter. I had eyes on you," the wizard replied nonchalantly. "Should something have occurred, I would have known."

"You knew of our coming then?" Harry questioned, shifting in his seat as the cold settled in him once more, not even the heat of the fire able to warm his insides.

"How could I not? Lady Galadriel can be horribly insistent when she wishes. I don't expect I would have had any peace should I not have agreed to take you on," Radagast grumbled to himself, glaring disgruntledly at his tea.

"She already contacted you?" Harry wondered.

"Dear boy," the wizard exclaimed in astonishment, his mood abruptly changing, "the Lady contacted me the moment she caught wind of your magic. She's been informing me of your progress ever since she began teaching you."

"Now." Radagast quickly moved on, denying Harry any chance of digging further. "Where is this familiar of yours? I trust he is still with you?"

"Of course," Harry replied, unbuttoning his shirt in order to reveal William's long body tightly wrapped around his torso. "You'll have to excuse him if he comes across as hostile. The coldness of the weather does not agree with him, and he has a habit of lashing out when he is uncomfortable."

"He is a magnificent specimen," Radagast murmured as he took in the dark, scaled body. "Would you mind unwrapping him? I can't quite get a proper look."

"Certainly," Harry said, moving to loosen William's grip on him despite the snake's moody protests.

"Be good." Harry gently placed the snake on the table before them. "I don't want to see any unprovoked biting."

"My bites are never unprovoked." William drew himself to his full height, his hood flaring. "It is not my fault you surround yourself with moronic beings who, with their every actions, beg for my venom."

"Fascinating," Radagast exclaimed, his remarkable eyes shining in excitement. "The serpentine language has always been a mystery to me; I have never quite managed to crack its code. Yet here you are, conversing as if it comes as natural to you as breathing. No wonder you've chosen a serpent as your familiar."

"Well, I would not say I chose him so much as he came to me," Harry commented drily, sending a wry look in William's direction. "I conjured him when I first began practicing my magic in Rivendell. He has been with me ever since."

"Ah, then he is a result of your magic?" Leaning forward to study the snake, Radagast expertly ignored William's steadily rising agitation. "This is a first for me, I admit. I have never come across a familiar conjured by magic, and while it might not affect anything, do be patient with me should anything unexpected occur."

The wizard nearly seemed hypnotised as he faced William head on, gasping in delight when the snaked flared his hood aggressively. Nothing seemed to faze Radagast, and despite William's many lunges towards him, he did not seem deterred. When William's fangs were inches from latching on to the wizard's nose, Harry moved to intervene.

"William." With a gentle hand, he grabbed on to the snake's tail. "What did I say about the biting?"

"It is provoked!" William practically snarled, refusing to back down. "The moron is practically begging for it. Let me teach him a lesson. Let me show him that I am not something to be gawked at."

"Enough." Harry tightened his grip, forcefully pulling his familiar back and away from the fascinated wizard. "We are guests taking refuge in his home; I will not allow you to repay his kindness by killing him. Control yourself, William!"

"Fine," William relented, moving up Harry's shoulders to wrap around his throat, dangerously tightening his grip on the soft flesh in a final act of defiance before settling down. "But keep the wizard away from me. I will not be put on display like some common beast."

"Of course not," Harry cooed, soothingly stroking the top of William's head, "he's just in awe of your magnificence, is all."

"He has quite the temperament, hasn't he?" Radagast commented when the snake finally settled on ignoring everyone in the room, including Harry.

"I told you. He becomes moody when he is cold. Although, in his defence, he can be very charming and pleasant when warm."

"No matter." Radagast said, waving it off. He emptied his cup of tea before rising to his feet. "Now, I am sure you've had a long journey, and I imagine you are in need of a good night's rest. You may have my room."

Time was scarce, and Radagast wasted none of it. The next day, after the most peaceful sleep that Harry had known since the beginning of their journey, they immediately began training. Radagast was ruthless, his expectations was as high and brutal as his teaching methods, and as the days passed, Harry could hardly believe that he was still standing. Every day saw him pushed to his limit as Radagast tirelessly manipulated and twisted Harry's magic, including exploring every inch of his bond with William. It was with an unexpected viciousness that the wizard tore at the bond between them, testing it and bringing it to the breaking point. A week passed by in this manner, and soon Harry had settled into a routine of collapsing into bed every night, desperately curled around William's prone and exhausted figure. The constant manipulations and hammering against their bond had created a desperate need in him to confirm the continued existence of it; he was more aware of the fragile string connecting them now than he had ever been.

Sleep had become a curse. The frequency and intensity of his nightmares had increased, and every morning was filled with a horrible emptiness as he always woke in fear of having lost William. Harry had never realised how reliant he was on the snake until the mere prospect of being without him sent Harry into a panic attack, and the only thing that could calm him was the feeling of William's scaly body against his.

The atmosphere in the small cottage had become tense, darkening whenever Harry's condition seemed to grow worse. Shadows lingered under his eyes, the bright green of them marred by darkness, and his skin had turned a sickly pale colour. Just as Harry's condition worsened, so did William's. The snake was colder than he had ever been, unable to move more than a few inches at a time and always staying curled up next to Harry on the bed in order to preserve warmth.

That morning followed a particularly brutal session with Radagast, and Harry could barely move, lying there in a daze and unable to do anything but listen to the world around him. William's cold body nestled against his neck anchored him, preventing him from drifting any further than he already was. The sudden sound of raised voices reached him, drawing his attention for a moment.

"Whatever you are doing it is not working," Glorfindel's agitated voice echoed from the living room, his normally soothing voice slamming harshly against the walls. "It is killing him. Every time you push their bond, each time you drain him of his magic, he grows closer to the brink of death."

"It is necessary," Radagast said calmly. "They are each other's strength and weakness. Harry can never truly reach his full potential without being completely aware of his bond with William, and he certainly has no chance of controlling his connection with the Nazgul without being at his full potential."

"And you believe this is the way of achieving it? How can he truly become aware of it when you keep tearing them apart?"

"I am aware it is not ideal," Radagast admitted, "but with what little time we have and the fact that the snake is a result of Harry's magic, this is the only method available to us. Harry needs to become so desperate and deprived of his magic that he has no choice but to turn to his instincts. He needs to be at the point where he will instinctively turn to his bond with William and tap into the dormant power that lingers there. It is the only solution."

"And you are willing to risk Harry's life to achieve this?" Glorfindel asked heatedly.

"What choice do we have?" the wizard replied. "Teaching him in any other way would take years. Years we do not have if the frequency of his nightmares is any indicator. At least this way he has a fighting chance."

Tired of the constant noise, Harry curled even further into William, shutting out any sound other than the constant, soft hissing emitted from the snake. The soothing rhythm of William breathing slowly lulled him back into a state of sleep, providing him an escape from the constant, annoying noise outside his room. Darkness enveloped him in a warm blanket, cocooning him in softness. It was a divine place. There were no hooded figures to hurt him, no annoying voices demanding that he should stay awake. He could sleep here; he could close his eyes and allow himself to be swept up by nothingness. Nothing would disturb him in the darkness. He could stay here forever; he wanted to stay here forever.

Except there was a small, dim light refusing to leave him alone. No matter which way he turned or how much he sought to shield his eyes, it would not leave him alone. Frowning, Harry swatted at it, growing annoyed when his hand touched nothing but empty air and the light flitted around him. It was like a small insect, flying around his head, determined to get as close as possible if only to get a small bite out of him. Growling to himself, Harry shifted into a sitting position, lamenting the loss of the comfortable softness before increasing his efforts in swatting the light. It escaped him again, teasingly darting away before flying closer once more.

"Leave me alone!" Harry cried when another attempt at swatting the damned thing failed.

It landed on his nose in response, its touch heated as it lingered for a moment before fluttering away, almost seeming to beckon him. Reluctant to leave his soothing cocoon, Harry rose to his feet, a frown adorning his face as he hesitantly followed the little light. It seemed to grow slightly in strength, as if excited that Harry had done as it intended. They wandered for what felt like hours. They encountered nothing but darkness, and yet the light persisted and refused to allow him to turn back. Several more hours must have passed before the light finally stopped moving, hovering in the air as if uncertain of something.

"Well?" Harry snapped when the light remained unmoving. "What did you lead me here for?"

A strange humming sound emitted from the light as it finally began moving again, darting back to hover right in front of Harry's face before beginning to pulse, its dim light fading in and out. A responding light suddenly caught Harry's attention; it was pulsing brightly in the distance and seeming to grow stronger with each second that passed. It beckoned him, calling out to him, and it seemed strangely familiar to him. It was as if he had seen it before, yet he could not remember where or when he had encountered it.

Curiously, Harry stepped closer, eyes widening when the light appeared to shiver in delight, its glow increasing in strength. He was tempted to touch it, to reach out and grab a hold of it, to feel its warmth slipping between his fingers. He was moving to act on that desire when the smaller light suddenly flew at his face, aggressively pushing him back. A high-pitched screech echoed in the darkness, ringing viciously in his ears and forcing him down to his knees.

The light that had previously been so warm and beckoning suddenly turned a dark blue, the air around it dropping dramatically in temperature as a thin layer of frost covered everything within its reach. Harry could see his own breath in the air, his lips turning cold and numb as the temperature continued to drop around him. Whispers, hauntingly familiar, came from the light, replacing the screech and echoing through the air. It slammed into him brutally. His breath was knocked straight out of him as his knees gave way from underneath him, sending him sprawling to the ground. Desperately gasping for air, Harry barely managed to gain his wits before the smaller light once more flew to him, growing in size until it surrounded Harry in its entirety. With a brutal force, the two lights clashed together, a loud bang echoing in the air like the deep rumble of thunder. Sparks flew through the air as the two lights grinded against each other, relentlessly and savagely tearing at the other.

"Shit," Harry cursed as a massive gust of wind knocked straight into him, pushing him back a few feet.

The darkness surrounding him seemed to tremble as an immense power radiated from the two lights, almost pulsating through the air. It wrapped around him tightly, and Harry felt as if the very air in his lungs was being squeezed out of him as the power slowly seeped into his skin. The power burned, viciously incinerating his flesh as it made its way through layer upon layer of tissue and bones. An inhumane scream, scratchy and high-pitched, tore through Harry's throat as the power sought his core, destroying his body to reach the pure magic that lay inside.

In one final agonizing pulse, the power tightened its grip and his core went out like a flickering light bulb.