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Words count: 6805
Sirius' motorcycle roared very loudly. If somehow those vampires couldn't hear their hammering heartbeats before, they surely had given themselves away. Just as the motorcycle began to float and rotated so it can leap off to the bright sky, one of the vampires showed up at the door.
It happened very vast. They were close to the ceiling, but Harry's right leg was clung on by the vampire. He could hear the crack, and Renesmee's cries amidst the uproar. The motorcycle spun and Renesmee sent a piercing blow to his face as she held on the motorcycle's silver handle. It was enough to buy Harry time to roll the gas down to its maximum speed. In one split moment, Harry realized that the wand on his pocket was gone.
They jolted upwards, leaving Sirius' last real legacy, enraged roars slowly fading from their ears as the motorcycle flew higher to the open sky.
Chapter 15 – The Retrieval of the First
Harry's mind was thoroughly blank as his fingers stilled over the hard edge of the paper. After three days of sleepless night, his mind found a way to complete nothingness. Or perhaps it was the heart that was empty. They did say that brain was connected to heart after all. His heart, once rejuvenated from the darkness of the war, had now begun to succumb to numbness once more. Numbness and grief, he could deal with. It was the inability that made his legs lose the will to stand.
His will, his hope, died out the moment his magic was lost.
His life without magic was not something he wanted to remember. It was full of stories that he'd rather lock up. He'd like to think that magic did not define him, that he was a person underneath the power bestowed upon him. He truly believed that no human being was lesser than others simply because of the lack of existence of magical core. He fought a war for this cause. Yet his heart screamed, aching for magic to return.
That night, his fingers brushed over the smooth letter, hardening the edge as his resolve grew. It is human nature to realize how significant a thing is after it disappears. Hero or no hero, Harry was no different. He had stoop so low to sneak up on snatchers and grabbed their wands. It was something he was greatly ashamed of, but the truth was all that mattered. Nothing answered him, not even a little spark of defiance.
So lately Harry had been staying awake all night. Finally, on the forth, Renesmee went for groceries in a town which name he didn't bother to find out. He squinted before a fireplace, lit flame with matches that Renesmee bought him. He wanted to read it once, but halfway there his vision blurred. This was it. It was the end of what he thought would be a very long way to go.
The flame barely touched the tip, and Harry saw it blackened for half a second before it was snatched away from him. It was now in Renesmee's trembling grasp. Harry couldn't find any word to say, so he watched her held the paper to her body, as if it was something so precious for her.
"Don't do this," Renesmee said, any emotion void from her tone. "From many things that you wish you didn't do, this one will be your biggest regret."
"Try to understand. I don't want this. Things have changed. We've got to cope with it."
"By burning your dreams?" Renesmee retorted. He half expected her to cry, but all he could detect was anger.
"Dreams can only be pursued when you're alive," Harry spoke quietly. "If I don't do this, I won't have much time left."
It was true. It left a gaping hole in his heart, but nevertheless it was the truth. He had been running from it for months now, pretending that he was as normal as other wizards. The hints of his bizarre condition had been dropped since the accident. He had long known that his body was gradually changing into a stranger, and perhaps it was the matter of time until his mind was taken over. His biggest regret would be spending months avoiding this matter until the power was stripped off him. He was too busy living in the present that he had forgotten to think just how long the present would last.
"You've got much time," Renesmee said, her voice oddly light. "Don't say it like you're dying. You're not. You're Harry, right? You have the talent to evade death since you were born."
Harry tried not to smile too wryly at her attempt.
When Harry didn't reply, she continued, "And they're not your dreams to banish, Harry. They're your parents' legacy. Whatever you're facing now.. It's not the end. You've got so much time. So much potential."
"God," Renesmee groaned, sitting beside him before the fireplace. "You're so like my father."
Recalling every story about how possessive and brooding Renesmee's father was, he couldn't help but to feel offended. "Excuse me?"
"What's with the tone?" Renesmee demanded, annoyed. "I'd let you know that Dad is a very nice, although a little dramatic, kind of dad. There's not a single dad in this world that can be as cool as he is."
"You're the one who told me about how annoying, cryptic and overprotective he is," Harry pointed out. "It doesn't help the fact that you're saying we're similar with that tone."
"I'm just saying that you're broody like Dad," She smiled innocently. "Like him, you tend to be an over thinker. You both also have the knack for dramatics."
"I. Do. Not."
Renesmee's laughter sank his increasing annoyance. He had long wondered how she managed to do that. It might be her own talent, like the little happy bubble she was. Or perhaps it was the feeling of her hair against his shoulder.
"So, the other I found this cute little muggle kid who thinks holding up your middle finger is cool.."
Staring at her bright, contagious smile, Harry shook his head in exasperation as he smiled himself. The slightly burnt paper went back to his pocket, safe as it should be.
Even though the list was now secured in his backpack, his resolve did not lose its purpose. As soon as his leg was fully healed, Renesmee bought him stacks of muggle beers despite her reluctance. At night, they went to the closest beach they could find, aiming for the empty spot that no one could reach. Renesmee didn't really like the idea, but she watched in worry as Harry drank. Much to both his relief and frustration, he simply could not get drunk. Perhaps his body was too used dealing with heavy, suffocating stuff like Firewhiskey and Poctalin that some beers were inadequate. Afterwards he would feel completely uncomfortable in his own skin, full and unfulfilled.
Renesmee thought the idea of meditating for him. She had learned it from Japan, and even though she was unable to properly do it due to the impossibility of peace with super-hearing, she knew the theory enough to pass it to Harry who was delighted to remove drinking from his options. Trying to meditate was both frustrating and calming, though the first was more of a prominent effect. He did not have the patience. Renesmee didn't give up easily though, since she much preferred this idea than the first one. And when Renesmee was dead set on teaching, she was demanding.
Yet days had passed and nothing had shown results. Harry knew that the perfection of meditation took years, but he did not have the benefit of time. Every passing day that he spent meditating felt like a waste of time for him, and when his mind had this circling on his head, meditating became impossible to do.
It was probably a whole month after that that he realized something that he should have done long ago. Filled with both dread and excitement, Harry told Renesmee to pack. When he touched the motorcycle, something in him stirred. Renesmee didn't offer to take the handle. He knew how much this meant for Harry, after being drained from any other things magical.
The sight of the small island getting nearer caused his throat to tighten. Trying his best to ignore it, upon arrival, Harry jumped off the motorcycle that was parked at the edge of the island. The sky was gloomy, as if reflecting how he felt. It was exactly as he remembered, and the memory that flashed in his brain was full of devastation. Ignoring this, he walked, and walked, before stopping. He turned around to glance at Renesmee who was staring at him in a great distance, waiting in her spot. Harry's finger ran across the smooth stone, before lifting the heavy stone with his bare strength.
Staring at the remnants of Albus Dumbledore, he stilled. He neither had thought that he would ever open his mentor's grave, nor had he planned to take the cursed wand back. He was enraged when he found out that Voldemort opened it—and now the guilt was enough to make his legs weak. But he had a mission, a promise that he owed to himself. Slowly, he touched the tip of the wand. The warmth that shot his entire body, the overwhelming power almost made him fall due to shock, but he held his body so that he wouldn't ruin the grave. He retaliated quickly but carefully. Replacing the heavy stone to the original position, he sent his dead mentor one last look before the tomb completely shut.
It was impossible to dismiss the bond that he felt. He felt like a dying, dehydrated man who finally found a lake to swim in. Only that the power was much more than that of a lake—he felt overwhelmed by the magic that he felt on his fingertips, under his skin, flowing inside of his vein. He had never been so magically aware before. For the first time in what felt like forever, Harry Potter felt alive.
Holding the wand up to the sky he was staring at, he took a deep breath. He neither spoke nor think of any spells. All he did was to relieve what was running in his body. He could feel the magic flowing inside of him, surging for his right hand, bursting at the tip of the wand.
And along with the sound that matched a thunder, a huge jolt of gold exploded in the sky.
His eyes widened. He vaguely heard Renesmee's scream behind him, but his mind was too hazy, too occupied to care. He didn't understand why he denied this to himself years ago.
There was no fear. The corner of Harry's lips twitched upwards.
I have longed for this moment far too long, the voice spoke softly. For the day that you stop denying the power that you were destined for.
Such a power, Harry thought almost grimly. It's rather scary for me.
The voice sounded amused. This is a mere fraction of your power. Your true power comes forth the moment what are truly yours are brought together.
The Hallows, you mean?
The wand, the stone, the cloak, the voice agreed. Reuniting the three would result in the restoration of my power. And my power, Master, belongs only to you.
The same, peaceful daze crept to his mind. In response, he bit his tongue. The sudden pain cleared his head and the resolve that was almost buried slowly floated. Power is not what I'm seeking. I'm trying to find out what is going on with my body.
Your body is adjusting to the growing magic within. I assure you, Master, the changes are nothing but beneficial for you and no disadvantages would be thrown in your direction.
I would like total control of my mind and body, Harry pressed. Power like this is useless if I can't control it. I don't want to destroy; I want to protect.
And protect you shall, the voice agreed, even though the tone was off. Unfortunately there is nothing I can do regarding your control. It is something that you have to master yourself.
His surrounding shifted. He felt the smoothness of the grass on his back, and when his eyes adjusted with the light, his vision was filled with Renesmee's worried face, as pale as the moon. Harry couldn't help but to smile as drops of tears wet his cheek. Of course she was crying.
"Oh my God," Renesmee quivered. "Harry."
"Ssh, it's alright now," Harry muttered, guilt twisting his insides. "I'm sorry. What happened?"
"After you casted that spell, you fell to the ground. You didn't respond to anything. And then your heartbeat slowed down," Her voice shook, and Harry squeezed her hand lightly. "I thought.. you were dying.."
"I'm sorry," Harry murmured again, hoping it was enough. "I'm sorry."
As dangerous as it might seem to her, Harry would not stop at this. He was so close, so close to getting the answers that he was dying for. He had to speak to Death again. Looking at Renesmee's state, it probably had to be awhile to attempt this again. It was probably a good thing. He was lacking control in his own mind state, easily dazed and very easily distracted by the voice. It was something that he had to work on, and he swore that he would do anything he could to hold control.
Renesmee practically dragged Harry away from the tiny island. She insisted to take hold of the handle, letting Harry to lie back on the side car, drawing in the air with his new wand. The flight wasn't so boring with colorful sparks circling them. Renesmee still looked shadowed, so Harry sent her a couple of harmless birds chirping by her side. She giggled, and Harry was content with life again.
After returning to their tent, Harry felt less agitated. He began to appreciate meditation much more now, so he put more work into it. Renesmee was more than eager to help him, clearly disliking the idea of him ever attempting the connection with Death ever again. Especially when she heard his stomach growling; storming into the kitchen even faster than she usually was. She broke her made-up policy to not bother his meditation and brought him a plate of food that was too distracting to continue.
Aside from aiding him in his meditation, Renesmee also wrote letters in her spare time, forcing the reluctant Shinji to send dozens of letters to George, Luna and even Ron and Hermione, whom she didn't really have time to get to know yet.
Renesmee's decision to contact his friends caused his phone to be bombarded by Hermione's calls and messages. Reassuring both Ron and Hermione that he was completely fine was not a simple task. Both of the newlyweds were convinced that they had to return from their honeymoon earlier to be by his side, but Harry forced them to swear to not do that. When he told them that he wanted them to be happy, Hermione cracked, sobbing through the line.
"Take care of her, mate," Harry told him seriously.
"I will. And you, you bloody git," Ron growled, causing Harry to grimace. "You take care of yourself."
Luna was less drastic, even though the number of letters was big. She wrote that she believed in Harry's abilities and knew that if Harry was dead, she would have felt it by now. Seeing so many letters on the table, Harry was tempted to write another letter for Draco Malfoy, but he decided that the ex-death eater wouldn't appreciate it this time. Besides, he had a lot in his mind without Draco Malfoy's howler ringing in his ears.
Perhaps it was because of the letters that they had a visitor.
"You told him where we are?" Harry immediately asked after casting a spell on the entrance so it was visible enough to see George Weasley standing in front of their tent.
Renesmee looked panicked. "Do you.. mind?"
"No, not at all," Harry said. "It's just alarming if he could trace us when he should not have the way to."
Renesmee smiled in relief and stood up, leaving her freshly-made spaghetti on the table. Both were already at the door when Harry waved his wand to unlock it. "George!"
It was Renesmee's voice which was the loudest, knocking the tall ginger into a hug as she shouted happily. George wasn't surprised with the enthusiasm, but Harry noticed that something was bothering him.
"What is it, George?"
"What? I can't visit my best mate now?" George grumbled light-heartedly, and Harry smiled involuntarily.
"There's something bothering you, though, right?"
"What's wrong with you, Harry?" Renesmee said, pushing George inside. "Just let him in and taste my spaghetti. It's the best in the world, aside from Esme's, of course."
"You know, I'd really love to meet this Esme," George said as he helped himself to the kitchen. "Great cook, gorgeous and kind. I've met my share of ladies but hearing your description, so far the woman intrigues me more than anything."
Renesmee choked on her coke.
"Bloody hell, George," Harry rolled his eyes, even though he couldn't hide his amusement.
"What the bloody hell!" Renesmee exclaimed, looking positively green. "God, that is so wrong. She's my grandma, you git! This is sick. You're sick."
"She might be your grandma," George said in defense. "Not mine. As long as she's lookin' young, she's good. Besides, I've got the hots for older women.."
Renesmee began singing, ignoring George's snicker. Harry interfered for Renesmee's sake, "Didn't you say you only want 'great cook, gorgeous and kind'?"
"Yeah, yeah," Renesmee instantly chirped in, obviously happy for the change of subjects. "Don't you think I fit the criteria?"
Renesmee winked, and George didn't hesitate to wink back. "Well, you sure do fit, but unfortunately for me, you're taken, my lady."
"..taken?" Renesmee echoed.
George innocently tilted his head to Harry's direction, who definitely did not miss it. Renesmee's face burned bright red. Harry's smile grew wider behind the hand that covered his lower face.
"So, what are you doing here?" Renesmee asked, still flushed. Harry could imagine all the torture that George would get from her, but that probably couldn't cut it. "You did look troubled."
"Ah, well, I don't really know how to say this," George's expression turned serious. "It's been on my mind for a long time, but I guess I just found the guts to actually spit it out.."
"Get on with it," Renesmee pressed.
"You won't like it, Harry," He turned his face to Harry who was leaning on the wall. "I know you won't."
"We don't know for sure," Harry shrugged. "Whatever it is, I'll hear you out first."
George shifted in his seat. "You remember Lupin, don't you?"
Harry stared at him for a while, not saying a word. "Are you asking me whether I forget about him? How could I?"
"That's not what I mean," George shook his head. "Do you remember Lupin coming to Grimmauld Place when you three were still on the run?"
"Lupin coming—No," Harry growled. "No. Not a million chance, George."
"Why?" George stood. "Lupin got a wife and a baby to take care of. He's got shitload of Order responsibilities. I don't. I have nothing to do."
"You're going to come with us because you are bored?"
"I want to help," George said firmly.
"Look, be considerate here—"
"What is going on? What does he want to do?" Renesmee asked. "What, Harry?"
"I'm not weak. I can help you guys."
"He wants to bloody come with us!"
Renesmee went quiet and wide-eyed, while George replied hotly, "I'm a fully competent wizard. I've lived through war to tell about it!"
"Wizarding War, George! Have you lost your mind?"
"This is different, George," Renesmee interjected quietly. "The strength is on another level. You don't forget how badly you end up in Hawaii, do you?"
"Without help, you would have died and no one can bring you back!" Renesmee yelled.
Harry's head snapped so quickly to stare at Renesmee, eyes widened. None of the two realized this, though, as they went for a shouting match.
"—this is not about honor or all that crap. Don't you see that there's no personal gain involved? I barely know about it!"
"—which proves my point why you can't come with us—"
"I just want to help."
"You can't," Harry's quiet voice somehow stopped them. "It's not that you can't help us. It's that I will not allow it."
"You know when I've set my mind on something, nothing could ever change it," George said, daring him.
"I don't care," Harry snapped. "Fred's gone. I'm not gonna let you die."
George's face darkened, her fist balled at his side. Harry saw George's eyes water, and he brushed the guilt away.
"I'm sorry, George. You can't come."
George still hadn't replied. The silence was thick, and Renesmee hesitantly put her hand on his shoulder. "—George?"
George gave her a small smile to reassure her, and disappeared through the entrance without sparing Harry another glance.
"It's alright," Harry smiled sadly. "I'll be fine."
But his eyes caught her face. He wasn't the one that needed comfort.
"Hey," Harry called her softly. "Come here."
As he pulled her into a tight hug, Renesmee began to sob. Harry remembered the first time they met he thought that this particular habit of hers was incredibly troubling, but now he understood. She cried a great deal, but mostly her tears were for the others. And a lot of them were for him.
He kissed her forehead, and whispered that everything was going to be okay.
"Where are we going?" Renesmee asked, seeing Harry waved his wand around, putting off the tent.
After the tent went back to his backpack, he rode Sirius' motorcycle. "We're going back to Britain."
"Why?" Renesmee asked. "I thought you said it's not safe."
"It's not," Harry sighed. "But what choice do we have?"
"What are we going to do?" Renesmee queried warily.
They shot through the sky like a speeding bullet, and Harry smiled at the familiar calming breeze. God, he missed flying.
"We're retrieving the stone," Harry answered simply.
They were silent for a while, as neither knew what to say. The stone was the last missing piece of the puzzle, the last remaining Hallow that was still not in his hands. If he truly wanted to control this power, then he suspected that he had to possess the three of them.
"This whole Death thing worries me," Renesmee finally murmured. "But the number of the vampires that are after us is also alarming. It's too big to come from Volturi. They're sneaky. Not to mention they're half-breeds."
"Fuzename told us that they were going to hand you to them," Harry reminded. "Something about restoring their honor and all. Which means that Volturi wants you."
"Oh, I know Volturi wants me to either join them or die. But the half-breeds couldn't be from them. It's too messy—not really their style."
"Any particular suspects then? Other than the rest of Fuzename clan and Volturi guards?"
"I don't know. Nahuel's a quiet, but he's kind. So is his aunt. Though I heard he had sisters and a father.."
"A father?" Harry stopped. Why did this never come up before?
"How was.." Harry started. "..this Nahuel created?"
"The same way I was created," Renesmee's voice turned lower. "Biologically. Joham's a mad scientist. Nahuel said he loves to experiment more than this immortal life."
The grip on the handle tightened. "Now that's suspicious, don't you think?"
"Maybe," Renesmee shrugged, and Harry raised his eyebrows at her nonchalance. "But Volturi wouldn't be that front to let him reproduce any more than that. The majority of vampires were present to hear them swear to take him down. I don't think they want to risk any public jab right now."
"Fair point," Harry admitted, even though he still had this odd feeling about this mad scientist. "What about those Romanian vampires? It makes sense that they're building an army against Volturi. You told me they were pissed that the war didn't happen, after all."
"Stefan and Vladimir?" Renesmee snorted. "They can't do shit."
Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Watch out—storms ahead."
They needed to restock their potions, mostly for healing purposes. Renesmee was thrilled for another chance in Diagon Alley which she claimed as her favorite shopping center, but she then sulked when Harry reminded him that they didn't have much time. So they landed near Leaky Cauldron, and before Renesmee could carelessly walked into the door, Harry pulled her from the crowd and whispered in her ear, "We're gonna have to do something about our appearance."
"Polyjuice potion doesn't have any effect on me," Renesmee clarified, clearly miffed by this fact.
"I know that," Harry said impatiently. "You're gonna use the cloak, and make sure you don't touch anyone. I'm gonna be the one drinking the potion, since the cloak's not enough for us."
"So what? You want me to take a random woman's hair?"
Harry glared at her. "I want you to take a man's hair. Be sure he's muggle, though, so we don't have to sedate him."
Under two minutes, Renesmee came back with a lock of blonde hair. Harry went to the nearest muggle stall, forcing the potion down his throat. He had quite a few of it, but it didn't mean he liked it. Sighing when the transformation was done, he opened the stall to look at the reflection of a tall, thin young man with feminine face and smooth, long blonde hair.
He stormed out, facing Renesmee who seemed to have a giggling fit.
"You can't pick something normal, can you?" Harry snapped. "Something to remain unnoticeable since we're, I don't know, trying not to be found?"
"Oh, come on, Harry," Renesmee grinned, not bothered in the slightest. "You look pretty."
Grumbling under his breath, Harry turned his hair into a ponytail and walked past the crowd, leaving Renesmee to follow him.
The two of them parted ways, Harry to Potion shop and Renesmee to food stores. Both had agreed to not waste any time shopping things they did not need, albeit Renesmee a little reluctantly. In less than one hour, Harry already went to the alley next to Flourish and Blotts, their meeting place. Having nothing to do, he glanced around and his eyes caught the headline a man was reading.
SAVIOR STILL MISSING.
"There you are," Harry said, a little distracted. "Come on, we've got to keep moving."
Disapparation was much more convenient, in spite of the nausea. Now they were standing amidst the Forbidden Forest, sending Harry flashbacks that he tried to blink away. Renesmee noticed his tense pose, and squeezed his hand. "Come on, Harry."
Through the walk, Harry had his guard up at all times, putting up a muffliato and a disillusionment charm. Meanwhile, Renesmee scouted the area as wide and fast as she could, tracing for a hint of obsidian hidden under the leaves.
"I couldn't find anything," Renesmee hissed in frustration. "Is it possible for someone to pick it up?"
"Highly improbable, but yes, there's a chance," Harry conceded. "There was no one else with me that night. If someone found it, it had to be.."
"..a centaur," Harry finished, his widened eyes staring right behind Renesmee. She turned around and what she saw made her yelped in shock.
What they were seeing was not any centaur; it was Firenze. His expression was murderous, his fists balled at his side with strength that could destroy half the forest. On his back, sat a male half-vampire whose throaty laugh echoed in the woods, his leg kicking Firenze's lower back to make him run faster. They were outrun by a group of centaurs, all of them with a half-breed on their backs.
"Firenze! What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"
"Do you realise who this is? This is the Potter boy."
Firenze fell, not because he couldn't bear the half-vampire's weight, but because the shame and disgrace brought him down. He gritted his teeth, his strong hands holding him from touching the ground.
"Oh my God," Renesmee croaked.
"OI! What the hell are you stoppin' for?" The male half-vampire said in distaste. "Ain't ya a horse? You damn animals better treat your betters right!"
It took all of Harry's self-control not to bust that half-vampire's head right there.
Renesmee stroked his arms lightly as she said, "There are others."
At their right, the same disgusting image was displayed. There was their leader, wearing a black robe that hid almost all of his face, followed by three identical half-breeds, all of them riding centaurs at a slower pace.
"That's—that's the same man!" Renesmee exclaimed.
"The one that saved you back in Halu'iowa."
"Huh," Harry responded, not really caring about the man's kind deed toward him in the past. All he was seeing in the future was the man's blood.
"I've got a bad feeling about this, Harry," Renesmee told him quietly. "But you're gonna go anyway, aren't you?"
"Yeah," Harry answered just as quietly. He turned to face her. She seemed nervous, yet brave. She understood that he needed to do this. "Muffliato. Try to get as many centaurs as possible away from the clearing. I'll get the bastards distracted."
Harry opened his backpack and took a white belt, putting it on Renesmee's jeans. She looked confused, but she didn't object.
"If things go wrong," Harry murmured. "Touch the steel with your index finger."
Renesmee's eyes widened with realization. "A portkey?"
"To somewhere safe," Harry nodded. "Promise me you'll protect yourself with all you've got."
Her expression shifted immediately, suddenly understanding the gravity of the situation. This man was a complete enigma, and Harry wasn't a fool to believe that the man who saved his life would have to be a kind man. They were walking to the lion's den. Staring at Firenze's state, there was no other choice.
"You're overthinking a bit, aren't you?" Renesmee joked lightly.
"Promise me," Harry pressed lowly, his green eyes staring right into hers. "Promise me your safety."
There was a split second full of something he couldn't describe, bubbling inside his chest, filling it with more air than it needed. He couldn't look away from her eyes, hopelessly captivated in their depths. And then Renesmee did what she had never done before. She closed the distance between them and pressed her lips against his.
It was nothing, nothing like he had ever experienced. Nothing had ever come close to the warmth, the closeness, the ecstasy that filled him. His heart hammered against his chest, so loud that it felt like it exploded with every heartbeat. His mind was blank, unprogressive, and even though a small part of him screamed that he did not need this in such a dangerous situation, everything else that had put him in distraught was suddenly irrelevant. All he could comprehend was the taste of her lips, moving against his, sending the sensation of hot Firewhiskey down his throat, spreading the warmth to his fingertips..
Renesmee's lips moved away. Harry opened to see there were tears brimming in her brown eyes.
He waited for her to say something, but no words were uttered. All she did was looking at him with mixed emotions—disbelief, bewilderment.
The inhuman shout behind them caught their attention. It was Firenze's, his eyes staring wide with horror at his fellow companion who was beheaded before his eyes. Then suddenly Firenze went berserk, moving as fast as his could, rage burning with his every move, tears falling from his eyes. The half-breed rider raised his hand with an excited expression plastered on his face.
Before his fist smashed Firenze's skull, Harry had already burnt his whole body.
Shouts of shock and surprise echoed in the forest. A huge number of centaurs and half-breeds stopped whatever they were doing to stare at him, gaping at the human wizard who recently just killed a half-breed with a single strike. One second passed, and then the chaos erupted.
Harry didn't waste a single second. He couldn't be hit even once. His body was still human, and had he been hit, the consequence would be devastating. Harry quickly conjured three meter high rocks that circled him. He levitated and threw Firenze away, caught by Renesmee, still concealed in disillusionment charm. As Firenze was safe and out of the picture, Harry held his wand firmly and felt the tip burst.
He had never practiced this spell with this wand before, and he was pleasantly surprised to see that the fire was much more agonizing, yet easier to control. He waved his wand around, spinning and danced at the center as magic was flowing out of his body like currents, wild and uncontainable.
The rocks were destroyed within one second and dozens half-breeds stormed, roaring, only to be engulfed into the sea of fire. Sounds of powerful roar were instantly turned into agonizing screams. Harry stood impassively. He did not enjoy this, but he also did not feel pity for the ones who hurt his friends.
The sight apparently scared the smarter lot who were still on their previous spot. The moment the fire died down, they scurried, teeth, fist and leg aimed at all of Harry's body parts. Another Fiendfyre was casted, and this time Harry held the spell as he rotated around his body, spinning like a blade of fire. He noticed that there were no more centaurs near, so he released the fire completely, sending fire in all directions. Half of the standing half-breeds were out, and the remaining ones had something missing from their body parts.
He couldn't help it. He smiled. The control that the Elder wand had was incomparable.
But the battle did not end that soon. Renesmee began to attack as well, discreetly, as the reinforcement of the half-breeds arrived. Harry was getting nervous. Just how many are they?
Fiendfyre was the best solution, and he needed Renesmee to stay as far away as possible to conduct it. Renesmee understood, and she spun away from his glowing wand, knowing full well that Fiendfyre was going to burst. She was destroying and beheading the half-vampires with ease; the number might be great, but these half-breeds lacked the skills and technique that Renesmee had mastered over the span of months.
Harry conjured another set of tall rocks. The half-vampires stopped dead in their tracks, expecting sea of fire to be roaming inside it. Harry used the extra time to point his wand at the sky, letting the magic burst forth.
"RUN!" Harry shouted to Renesmee.
The stone, the trees and the ground exploded.
Half-vampires, their guards momentarily off, were inevitably burned with the Fiendfyre that followed. Harry's eyes immediately searched for Renesmee as he tried to catch his breath, and was relieved to find the bronze-haired girl was standing at the top of the tallest tree.
"Impressive," A deep voice said.
It was the man that saved his life. His hood still covered the upper part of his face, but Harry could clearly see the grin on his face.
"In hundreds of years," The man continued. "I've never, ever seen such a display of power from a wizard."
Harry's enormous flame sped towards the hooded man. The man didn't move an inch.
The ball of fire was reflected to his side, as if crashing against a mirror, and exploded at the trees nearby.
What the hell?
"That's rude, Mr. Potter," The man shook his head. "I'm not quite finished yet."
Gritting his teeth, he gathered all of his magic into his hands. "FIENDFYRE!"
Harry's stomach sunk when the powerful spell was again repelled. The man sounded annoyed, "What is it with you, boy? Just let me finish talking first."
The situation was deteriorating. He was magically and physically exhausted, and the man in front of him was possibly invincible. Harry tightened the grip on his wand.
"Since you're so impatient, I'll cut this short. My name is Joham," He said, uncovering his hood to show a handsome pale face of a middle-aged man. Harry heard Renesmee's gasp, and he suddenly remembered their conversation on the way here. "I'm a registered Scientist and regarding the fact that I find you extraordinarily fascinating, I would like your permission to conduct an experiment on you, Mr. Potter."
Harry's blood went cold, but he ignored it. "No way in hell!"
He casted everything he could think of; Fiendfyre, Reducto, Expelliarmus. Nothing touched Joham, whose grin was like a cheshire cat, a predatory look in his red eyes. Harry was disgusted at the way this man looked at him, as if he was a piece of meat that he could happily butcher back in his basement. Or perhaps that was actually what the insane vampire was thinking.
"It seems like you do not understand," The man showed him a feral grin. "Whatever your decision is, the scientist has the right to run the experiment whenever he sees fit. And today is a very good day for science."
Suddenly the man disappeared, and Harry immediately put the strongest Protego he had. His eyes could barely see the vampire move, but they registered the sight of Joham's leg impact on is next second Harry was on the air, his abdomen in excruciating pain and blood coming out of his mouth. He managed to land safely, instantly standing, ignoring the pain that was weighing him down. Joham's attack was much stronger than the other vampires he had encountered.
"You've realized that my kick is strong, haven't you?" Joham said. "Not like the other wimpy vampires, and definitely in a different leagues from these children," He gestured to the half-breeds that were watching their exchange, some of them agitated to join but it seemed that Joham ordered them to not interfere. "You've got internal bleeding, and I've cracked four of your ribs."
He pointed his wand at the man who was standing six meters away from him, cold blood red meeting horror-struck emerald green.
He felt the power flowing in every inch of his body, channeling them to his fingertips, shivering from the sensation. Joham stopped to watch Harry with newfound interest, not moving from the direction the Elder Wand was pointing at. A huge, intense golden jolt shot with the speed that matches a vampire, and the ground before him cracked, dusts covering everything for a moment. Harry held his breath. His magical reserve was next to zero, and if this didn't work..
The dusts slowly cleared up, to reveal Joham crossing his hands, standing a litte farther than he was before. Completely unscathed.
"That impact of the spell would have me blown away if I wasn't putting my defense," Joham said in a complimentary tone. "Impressive. No one's been able to do that for decades."
Then he blurred, and Harry's heart almost stopped. He wasn't fast enough—Joham was already in front of him, punching his torso that Harry screamed, crashing against a tree that fell down because of the force.
Then Renesmee shot from the tree and aimed a flying kick. It was supposed to hit Joham's face, but her leg was easily repelled and Harry watched in horror as she was tossed away like a rag doll.
Joham looked at Harry and Renesmee, for the first time looking absolutely surprised. Then he started to guffaw. "Now this is interesting!"
"Dear Renesmee!" He exclaimed. "I've been waiting forever to see you. You are far more lovely of a specimen than I imagined."
"Go to hell, Joham," Renesmee hissed. "I can't believe Nahuel was born from someone like you."
"Ah, poor, misguided Nahuel," Joham shook his head. "He's one of my most desirable sons. The day my son come back to me will be the day that I finally be at peace."
"The day he joins you is the day hell is frozen over," Renesmee seethed.
Renesmee was missing again. Harry's vision started to blur, but he managed to see Renesmee attempting to kick the man in the crotch. She was thrown away by the impetrenable and invisible barrier, but this time she landed gracefully.
"RENESMEE!" He screamed as Joham raised his hand. "NOW! NOW!"
Renesmee glanced at him, her eyes full of hesitation.
The bronze-haired half-breed was as fast as Joham, who still hadn't managed to capture her. The man looked positively gleeful at the thought that a mere half-breed was faster than him, a skilled vampire that had lived for centuries.
"Stop!" A female voice said right beside him. Harry's head was locked by the speaker and his wand had been taken by another. "Or this young man pays."
"Smart thinking, Esther," Joham laughed approvingly. "Now, Renesmee, wouldn't it be nice if we rest from this little tag game for a while?"
Renesmee took a watery look at Harry, and she nodded. Around them, stood roughly fifty half-breeds, all of them in fighting stance.
"NOW, RENESMEE!" Harry screamed as hard as he could. The arms around her neck got tighter, and Harry was barely able to breathe.
Renesmee closed her eyes and walked towards Joham who beamed.
"Children, we've got ourselves a pair of new shiny lab rats!"
*silently waiting for flames*
Senior year and the final exam are much rougher than I expected. That's the main reason I haven't updated for months, aside from the classic "Life gets in the way". After this chapter is written, I have to focus on the upcoming test in June, so don't expect another chapter until July. Or we can have the best scenario and on 27th May my name is listed as a student who is accepted to this university that I've been dying to go into. If that happens, then I can update another chapter in June! Wish me luck, guys.
Review! Always nice to hear your thoughts, whether it's positive and negative. Helps me to learn, you see?