By the Divining Light
Epilogue

It was the last time he'd ever come here; to the spot beneath the apple tree where the grass whispered secrets and it was always spring. Where the sun always dappled the ground between the branches and the hillside rolled away over the cliffs to the waves below.

It had been a year since he had enchanted this place; frozen it to time and hidden it from the world. Already it was beginning to slip away; lost to the eternal ticking clock. Time would reclaim what was stolen and balance would be restored.

The stone lioness glanced sleepily up at him as he came to kneel at its side. His fingers traced the familiar curves of its body and it purred happily.

"It began today," said Harry softly. His voice was strained and his jet black hair had grown much longer in the weeks since he'd left Ireland. Stubble had begun to grow on his face too, giving him an even more haggard appearance. "Emmeline Vance was attacked but we managed to save her. I guess you don't know who that is, but you'd have liked her. She's almost as smart as you."

His voice trailed away as the wind picked up, shaking the branches of the apple tree enthusiastically. Pinkish blossoms broke free from their moorings and floated down around him, clinging to his hair and clothes. He looked up and saw a storm gathering, the kind that always predicted the end of a British heatwave. He smiled softly, even as eyes prickled.

"I'm still doing it," he said finally, breaking the silence. The lioness looked back at him in disinterest. "You made me promise to protect Neville and I am, I will. He's all I have left of you. You'd be pleased though, we brought Ron back, though it's hard on him, he's three years too young but we're all trying for him. He's taken your loss pretty hard too.

"The Ministry is proving themselves as inept as you always insisted. Fudge refuses to even investigate our claims that he's back but I think everyone knows that Dumbledore and I wouldn't lie and even Rita Skeeter is pushing for an investigation. You'd have probably liked her too, she's got the same vicious tongue as you."

He smiled fondly and gazed out at the channel as the lion rose to its feet and stretched. He wondered idly if when he brought the enchantments down here the Ministry would be able to track them back to him. The fidelius was complicated like that but he assumed Dumbledore would have warned him if it would.

"You'll be pleased to know that there haven't been any attacks against muggles yet," he continued after a time. "It seems Voldemort is wary of forcing the Ministry to retaliate. I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing.

"Neville misses you too. He wanted to come today but Dumbledore said it wasn't a good idea. I have the feeling that he suspected this was something I had to do on my own anyway. He's a good man. Even Snape mentioned you the other day; I think he misses having someone who can actually answer his questions."

Harry was quiet again for a long while, above him the heavens opened and rain began to spit downward. The enchantments on this place kept him dry, but he knew that the time had almost come.

"So, I guess this is goodbye," he said hoarsely. "I hope you're okay, I hope you're happy, I hope you can hear me. I hope you know that I won't forget you, but it's time for me to put this behind me. Neville, Dumbledore, the world; they need someone who can be strong now. I hope I see you soon and I hope you know how much this is breaking my heart."

He lifted his wand upward and with a noise like a thunder crack, broke the enchantments that surrounded the tree. He screwed up his eyes as the rain fell heavy around him; chilling him to the bone. A moment later Conlaodh wrapped himself around Harry, protecting him from the rain that fell heavy around him. The stone lioness lifted its head one last time with a melancholy expression, then slumped to the ground.  Together they watched as each drop of rain that fell against the back of the lioness broke the surface of the stone as though it were sand.

"Good bye," he whispered as the lioness dissolved into nothingness, the blossoms of the tree escaped and as he watched Spring dissolve into Autumn around him.

Sometime later when the sweet September rain had stopped falling with such reckless abandon, Harry rose from the grass and walked down the hill. At the base of the slope a small wooden fence separated the verge from a narrow footpath. Here Dumbledore stood and waited, his expression stoic, despite the sympathy obvious in his eyes.

He said nothing as Harry came toward him and vaulted the fence athletically. They stood for a moment and regarded each other, similar thoughts running through their heads, each waiting for the other to speak. It was Harry who broke the silence first.

"What now?" he asked, his voice hard. Dumbledore smiled.

"We shall endeavour to stop Voldemort, of course," he said, as though it would be the easiest thing in the world. "With force, if we must."

"It won't be easy."

"The important things so rarely are," said Dumbledore. The inflection in his voice was a far cry from the man who'd once told Harry that manners were some of the most important things in life. There was something strained in Dumbledore's voice, as though he'd been awake for far too long.

"How many of the old crowd are on board?"

"All of them," said Dumbledore brightly. "Though they are too few; as ever I seek fresh blood."

"Any potential?" asked Harry.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore. A silence lapsed between them for a while before the headmaster spoke again. "I had hoped that this day would never come, when I would have to send young witches and wizards to fight and die."

Harry knew he was thinking of Dorcas Meadows, of Fabian and Gideon Prewett, of the Longbottoms, of his mother, of Hermione. He was surprised to find that he no longer ached inside as he thought of her, somewhere here at the margins of life his love had died. There was only hardness.

Dumbledore motioned for Harry to walk with him. Harry glanced up once more at the apple tree and then followed Dumbledore along the little rutted path. Today was the first step toward beating Voldemort, one that Harry and Dumbledore must take together.

"What's first?" asked Harry.

"To a little village called Budleigh Babberton, near Topsham," said Dumbledore, his eyes gleaming excitedly. He extended his arm to Harry. "Come Harry, we must once again surrender ourselves to adventure."

The End

So, this entire story is going to work as a prologue of sorts to a much longer fic. I don't know when this fic will arrive or what it'll be called. So you might just have to keep your eyes out.