Rising from ashes
Chapter 9:
The next morning, Harry awoke to see Hedwig perched on his bed-side desk, several letters tied to her legs.
He smiled. His feathered companion had been missing for the past week or so. He had become extremely concerned, worried that she had gotten lost. He had gone so far as to, with help from his father, interrogate the dragons to see if they had accidentally eaten a snowy white owl. Thankfully, this hadn't been the case.
"Hey, girl." He said, smiling.
He reached out an arm and Hedwig hopped onto it, the letters shaking with the movement.
"So was that what you were doing?" He said, patting her head. "You could tell I missed my friends and decided to get some mail from them."
Hedwig hooted.
"Well do you think you could tell me before leaving?" Harry continued in a gentle tone. "I was very worried about you. I thought that one of the dragons accidentally ate you."
Hedwig hooted.
"Don't you laugh at me." Harry retorted, though he was grinning.
He untied the letters from her legs and she flew back to the top of his wardrobe. Looking down at the letters, he could see that they were from Ron, Hermione and Hagrid. After a few seconds, he decided to open the letter from Ron first.
Harry,
Mate, where are you? About a week ago Dumbledore came to our house and asked if we'd seen you. When he told us you weren't at your Aunt and Uncle's house, everyone went crazy. Mum started panicking, and dad wasn't much better. He said that he would ask for help from all of his friends at the ministry, but Dumbledore said that we shouldn't make this public. But Fred and George, they actually started laughing. Dumbledore of course told them that this was no laughing matter, because you weren't safe out of your Aunt's house. They told him, straight to his face, that you weren't safe in your Aunt's house, and that they were surprised you hadn't done a runner sooner. Mum got angry at them, but I can't help agreeing with them. I mean, remember when the twins and I had to save you with dad's flying car and they had bars on your window?
You should see Hermione. She's panicking as bad as mum. Going to warn you, she might be ranting to you in her letter.
Hope you are okay. We'll be going to the Quidditch World Cup soon. Maybe I'll see you there. If not, hopefully on the train.
See you soon,
Ron.
Harry smiled. He would have loved to see Fred and George tell off Dumbledore. Maybe, when he sees them next, he will ask them to pull a few pranks on the old fool. Or maybe he'll ask them to teach him some of their tricks.
He then frowned. He didn't like it that everyone was panicking so much. Admittedly, when he had made the decision to go looking for his father, he hadn't thought about how his friends and the Weasleys would react to it. He had still been shocked that he wasn't quite a Potter, a bit angry that his father had just abandoned him, which led to him living with the Dursleys, and worried that he wouldn't be accepted. Now, he felt guilty for this oversight.
He then turned to Hagrid's letter, as Hermione's seemed bigger and, if Ron's prediction was true, then he would prefer to keep the long scolding for last.
Harry,
Where the ruddy hell are ya? Do ya know how worried we are?
Though, I can't blame ya fer doin a runna. I'm surprised ya didn't run a long time ago. Thoughs Dursleys are the wops' kinda people.
But ya could have told us wha ya were doin. Now we don' know where ya are and Dumbledore's gone crazy.
Jus' please, be careful. Hope ta see ya at the beginning O term,
Hagrid.
Harry smiled. His extremely large friend had gotten a small taste of what the Dursleys were like. So of course he would be a little understanding of why he had left. However, Hagrid was unfortunately extremely loyal to Dumbledore. This was concerning. He did not like keeping secrets from his friends, and was planning on telling Ron and Hermione everything once he saw them. However, he feared that he could not tell Hagrid. If Hagrid knew, then he was sure to tell Dumbledore. Even if he asked the giant of a man to not tell anyone, the man couldn't keep a secret to save his life.
He cared about Hagrid, he really did. Which is why his chest hurt when he thought of how he could not tell his friend the truth.
Sucking in a deep breath, he decided to bite the bullet and read Hermione's letter.
It was reasonably longer than the other two, and her hand-writing was not as neat as it usually was, as if she had been very emotional when writing.
Harry James Potter! What do you think you are doing? How dare you do something so reckless and idiotic? When Dumbledore told me that you were missing, you could not imagine how worried I was. You better not be running around the country with Sirius. Do you know how dangerous that could be? Even if Sirius is perfectly safe, the man has a kiss-on-sight order on his head! And there is no telling what trouble you could get into...
With every sentence, Harry became paler and paler. He did not think he had ever seen Hermione so angry. She may not have used bad language, but, oh Merlin, she had quite the imagination. Particularly when it came to threats concerning several parts of his body.
Her angry rambling went on for almost two pages.
... Yes, from what I have heard, you had a lot to justify the want to leave your relatives. However, I feel it was unnecessary to just pack up and leave without warning us. Please Harry, tell us where you are so we can ensure you are safe.
Hope to hear from you soon,
Hermione.
Harry let out a breath he had not known he was holding. He thought he should reply to his friends' concerns, as it was an entire month until the beginning of term and he did not wish for them to worry too much over him for too long.
He then looked at Hedwig. She had just come home from a long journey. She was most likely tired. So, Harry decided to wait a couple days for Hedwig to recover, before sending out his replies.
He tucked the letters into one of the draws in his desk, just as he heard a knocking at his door.
"Yes?" He said, turning to the door.
It opened and Murtagh stepped in, holding something wrapped in a cloth.
"Harry?" The man asked, looking at him. "Are you alright? You seem a bit pale."
"Oh, I'm fine." He replied. "I guess I'm still a little shaken up."
Murtagh came and sat on the bed beside him.
"What happened?"
"Well," Harry began. "Hedwig returned."
He gestured to the wardrobe, where Hedwig was now sleeping with her head underneath her wig.
"And she returned with some letters from my friends, Ron, Hermione and Hagrid. They were all concerned about me. Ron and Hagrid seemed more understanding of my reasoning, because they knew a bit about how bad the Dursleys were. But Hermione... She kind of sent me a two page rant on how worried they all were and told me that I had been stupid and reckless. And you don't want to know what kind of threats she made."
Harry shivered at the thought.
"Ah, well," Murtagh began. "What will you be doing concerning this?"
"First, I'm going to give Hedwig a couple days of rest." Harry replied. "Then I'm going to send them replies, telling them that I'm safe and that they don't have to worry."
"Are you sure that this will work?"
Harry shrugged.
"It's the best I can do."
He looked down.
"I... I guess I wasn't thinking about how this would impact my friends. I was just... You know..."
Murtagh put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Do not worry. You were overwhelmed by emotion and not thinking straight. You do not have to feel guilty for your decision."
Harry looked up at him and smiled.
"Now," The rider continued. "Enough of this. You shouldn't be upset on such a special day."
Harry groaned.
"Please don't tell me you're going to make a big deal out of this."
"Do not worry." Murtagh replied. "I have already informed Eragon, Sirius and Remus that you do not wish for a large celebration."
"Thanks." Harry said, relieved.
Murtagh gave him one of his rare, genuine smiles.
"I have come here because I wish to be the first to give you your present."
Harry felt his face warming up.
"You didn't have to..."
"Of course I did." Murtagh retorted. "You are long over-due for some gifts."
"No, really," Harry said. "I don't want anything. Being here, with you, is enough."
Murtagh smiled again.
"Still, I had to get you something. It's not much, but I have a feeling you will like it."
He handed Harry the object wrapped in cloth. It was long, thin, and heavier than he had expected, but still light. Hesitantly, he unwrapped it, to reveal a long, thin sword, in a leather scabbard. His eyes widened.
"No way." He breathed.
Murtagh smiled.
"Is this..." Harry began. "Is this... A real sword?"
"Yes." Murtagh replied. "I know that you have shown talent for many other kinds of swords, but you seem to be most skilled in this design."
Harry continued to look at it with wide eyes.
"Can I... Can I have a look at it?"
"Go ahead." Murtagh replied. "But be careful, it is really sharp."
Harry stood up and, slowly, removed the sword from its scabbard.
He could not help the thrill that filled him when he heard the steel of the sword sliding against its leather casing. He watched in wonder as the blade caught the light of the rising sun. It was so beautiful, and it was his.
"Thank you." He said in almost a whisper, still staring at the blade.
"It was the least I could do." Murtagh replied. "As much as I know you wish to look at your sword more, I believe we should get to breakfast before someone becomes worried."
Harry smiled and put the sword back in its sheath. He got dressed and clipped the leather scabbard to his belt. Together, he and Murtagh went to breakfast.
Just before they reached the dining hall, they were stopped by Remus, Sirius and Eragon. All three men were smiling.
"Happy birthday." They said in unison.
Harry groaned.
"I thought you asked them to not make a big deal." He hissed to Murtagh.
"Don't worry," Remus replied. "We won't. We just thought we should give you your present now, because we thought that you wouldn't want to draw attention to yourself."
"Thanks." Harry said, smiling.
"And don't worry," Remus continued. "I talked Sirius out of the fireworks."
Sirius pouted.
"Come on, it would have been fun."
Harry chuckled.
"Maybe next year." He said.
The wizard instantly cheered up.
"Well, until then," He began. "We thought that you might want something to add some excitement to your life that doesn't involve putting yourself into danger."
He pulled out a book. Harry raised an eyebrow, but took it anyway.
His eyes widened.
"The Marauders' Trickster Hand-Book."
"Wow." Harry said. "Thanks."
Sirius grinned.
"Feel free to share it with a certain pair of twins."
Harry chuckled. Oh, this was going to be fun.
Remus cleared his throat.
"Anyway," He began. "I have decided to give you a more... Practical gift."
He pulled out what appeared to be a simple woven bracelet.
"Errr, thanks?" Harry said in almost a question.
"This," Remus began. "Has several tracking charms on it. This is to ensure that, if you do get into trouble, that we will be able to find you. It is also charmed to be unbreakable. And I also have this."
He pulled out a second bracelet.
"This will act like a portkey, an object which can teleport you anywhere. It is linked to the first bracelet, and will help its wearer go to your location at once. The bracelet will also warm up if the person wearing its counterpart is in trouble."
Harry smiled.
"I will take that." Murtagh said instantly. "If that is alright with you." He added, looking at Harry.
"Yeah, sure." Harry replied. "I mean, this might help with you being such a hover-parent."
"I am not a..." Murtagh began, but stopped, obviously deciding that it was better not to start the argument again.
They both took their respective bracelet and put them on.
"Now then," Eragon began, smiling. "I am aware that Murtagh has already given you a sword..."
At this, Sirius and Remus spluttered in shock.
"However, I believe that it is a good idea to keep a spare weapon with you, just in case certain people steel your primary weapon." He continued, glaring jokingly at Murtagh at the last part.
He then pulled out a small object wrapped in cloth. Harry took it and unwrapped it, to reveal a dagger in its own leather sheathe. It appeared to be a smaller twin of his sword.
He looked up at his uncle and smiled.
"Thanks." He said.
He then, very gently and with some help from Murtagh, placed it in his boot. He stood back up.
"How do I look?" He asked.
Eragon examined him for a long time. Then, much to his surprise, the man broke into laughter.
"What, do I look funny or something?" Harry said, a little worried that he looked silly.
"No, no." Eragon panted. "It is just that... You only need a horn and a bow and you will look just as Murtagh did when I first met him, only a little younger, with a different style of sword, and with different coloured eyes."
Harry blinked, then looked at Murtagh. His father looked right back at him.
"You know, he has a point." Murtagh said.
Harry smiled.
"Thanks."
"Come on," Sirius interrupted. "Let's go have breakfast. I want to see how good Harry is with that thing."
He pointed to the sword at Harry's waist.
Harry laughed and continued walking down the halls, the four men following him.
When they reached the Dining Hall, he organized his usual breakfast and walked to where he usually sat with Hurzomna and Brinla.
His two friends were already their, and they smiled at him as he sat.
"Happy birthday Harry." Brinla said at once.
"Shhhh." Harry said, his eyes darting around the hall nervously. "I don't want anyone to make a big deal about it."
"As you wish." Hurzomna sighed. "Though, I do not know why you would not wish to celebrate the day of your birth. Surely it would be a joyous occasion."
Harry shrugged.
"Sorry, I'm just not used to people caring about when I was born."
Both his friends expressions darkened, however, it seemed that they were finally getting used to learning that Harry's life had not exactly been the best.
"Anyway," Brinla began, a smile creeping onto her face. "We have worked together to make you a present."
"Oh, you didn't...." Harry argued.
"Yes, we did." Brinla said forcefully. "You are our friend, and it is the least we could do."
Hurzomna then turned to a sack that he had not previously seen. From the sack, he drew a simple yet ornate wooden box.
"Oh, a box. You shouldn't have." Harry said jokingly.
Hurzomna rolled his eyes.
"It is inside the box." He replied.
Harry took the box and removed the lid. Inside, there was a glittering silver necklace with what appeared to be a deep red ruby pendant. The chain was made to resemble the scales of a snake, or maybe even a dragon.
"Wow," He said. "This is, this is beautiful."
"Thank you." Brinla said, smiling. "I made it myself, with some magical assistance from Hurzomna."
"How?" He asked.
Brinla shrugged.
"My Father is a blacksmith. I was always helping him in the forge, as I was the oldest and I had no brothers, only two younger sisters. We discovered early on that I had a talent for forging jewelry and artwork."
Harry smiled.
"Thanks, this is possibly one of the most beautiful things I own."
Brinla smiled at the praise.
"It's appearance is not the only good quality." She said. "Hurzomna helped me enchant it."
He turned to his elven friend.
"It was just some simple enchantments." The elf said. "Some spells to preserve it so the silver never tarnished. The ruby can also be used to store magical energy, just in case you needed a little extra."
Harry smiled.
"Thanks." He said again.
"So, do you have any special plans for today?" Brinla asked.
Harry shrugged.
"I'm hoping that Father will let me try out the new sword he gave me, but I'm not sure if he will, as he tends to think I'm made out of glass whenever we enter the training-yard."
The three laughed at this.
"And then," Harry began hesitantly. "Well, this afternoon, I have organized with my Father and Eragon to be tested by the eggs."
Both of the young riders' eyes widened. Then, Brinla's face broke out into a large grin and even Hurzomna's lips twitched in a smile.
"Oh, this is incredible." She said excitedly. "You are to be a Dragon Rider. This will be amazing. I am so happy for you."
Harry shifted in his seat nervously.
"We don't even know if any of the eggs will find me worthy." He argued.
"Of course they will find you worthy." Brinla argued. "You have already proven yourself to be a great and mighty hero. You are Deathsbane."
Harry looked down in embarrassment at the name the Riders still called him from time to time. It had actually stuck, much as Shadeslayer had stuck to Eragon, or, to a lesser extent, the name Kingkiller had stuck to Murtagh.
"I agree." Hurzomna replied. "I would honestly be more surprised if you are not a Rider by the end of the day."
"Thanks." Harry said, embarrassed from the praise.
He instantly began to feel nervous. What if an egg didn't hatch for him?
He shook his head. He would find out in a few hours.
Much to Harry's surprise, Murtagh did actually allow him to use his new sword. He said that he wished for him to become accustomed to the feel of the sword and to learn to be careful with the sharper blade. He showed Harry a spell to shield the blade, so that he did not accidentally hurt himself or anyone while using it.
Finally, they began to fight. To make the fight authentic, Murtagh had even brought a proper sword of his own. However, it was not his Zar-roc that he wielded.
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Is that Uncle's sword?"
"Yes." Murtagh replied.
"Why are you using his sword?" Harry continued. "Don't you have your own?"
Murtagh sighed and looked down.
"I do not feel comfortable using Zar-roc against you."
Harry blinked, but decided not to press the issue.
"Okay." He said simply. "Let's just begin."
Harry absolutely loved his new sword. Everything from the design to the grip was perfect for him. Unlike the old blunted swords, his glowed in the sunlight. It was beautiful.
Every time he swung his sword, he felt a thrill go through him. It was incredible.
Though Murtagh eventually defeated him, he was still smiling by the end of it.
Just after lunch, he was led by Murtagh and Eragon from the main building to a smaller hall. Though it seemed unoccupied, the building was well kept and from what he could sense thanks to his training in the Ancient Language, was heavily warded.
They led him to a small door at the front of the building. Both Murtagh and Eragon turned to him.
"Harry Murtaghsson," Eragon began. "Within these walls are the eggs of the Dragon Riders. You have come here to be tested, to see if you are worthy of being a Dragon Rider."
Murtagh continued.
"Once you become a Rider, there is no turning back. It is a life long responsibility. You and your dragon will become guardians of the balance of magic in the world. Are you ready?"
Harry did not hesitate in his reply.
"Yes, I am."
"Very well." Eragon replied. "Enter and examine the eggs. Find which calls to you the most, not by its visual aspects but by your instincts and your magic."
The two men turned and placed their right hands on the door. Red and blue magic glowed. They removed their hands and the door creaked open.
Harry sucked in a deep breath, and walked towards the door.
Just before he entered, Murtagh stopped him.
"Remember Harry," He whispered in his ear. "That no matter what happens, I will always love you."
Harry smiled at him and walked through the door.
The door closed behind him, and Harry was left alone with the dragon eggs.
For what felt like several hours, he wandered around the building. There was absolutely no light in the room. Harry supposed this was to help potential riders to search with their feelings and not their eyes.
He felt around the shelves. There were not as many eggs as he would have thought, only around fifty or so. He felt every single one of them.
However, his attention kept straying back to one in particular. He did not know why he was drawn to this one, it was just something inside of him, telling him that this one was more important than the rest. Maybe this was what Eragon meant by using his instincts.
Eventually, he stopped looking at the other eggs and just sat down with the one that he kept going back to.
It was quite large, almost too big for him to hold in one hand. He placed the egg in his lap.
"Hey there." He began, feeling a bit silly for talking to an egg. "Guess it's pretty lonely, being stuck in an egg that's stuck in a dark building."
He continued to sit and talk to the egg.
"I guess I can kind of get it. For ten years I had a small cupboard under the stairs as a bedroom. It was also where I was sent whenever my relatives wanted to punish me. They weren't the nicest people ever. But hey, I've now got my Father, an awesome uncle, a godfather, an honorary uncle, and some friends to help me. Maybe soon I'll have a dragon."
He felt the surface of the egg. It was smooth, and somewhat warm.
"It sucks, being alone. I've felt like that for most of my life. It's really hard. When your alone, it's hard to fight the dark thoughts. But every time I felt myself falling to my dark thoughts, I just reminded myself that I needed to be strong, to show everyone that it would take a lot more to push me down."
He shifted a little to get more comfortable.
"So many people have tried to push me down, to take me out, to make me feel like I wasn't good enough. But I'm still here, standing stronger than ever. I guess what they say is true, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
He stroked the egg.
"You know, from where I come from I'm famous for surviving a dark wizard who tried to kill me as a baby. I guess that that's what I am. I am a surviver."
Suddenly, he heard a cracking sound. He jerked in surprise. Then, there was another. And another. He realized that it was the egg.
Though he couldn't see it, he could still feel as the egg shook. He could hear as the dragon within it broke through the shell.
Finally, he felt several shards of the shell flying away, and a small claw touch his leg.
Harry reached out his hand and felt for where the dragon was crouched in his lap. As soon as his hand met what he believe to be the dragon's back, a sudden shock went up his arm. He felt a stab of pain in the palm of his hand. He could feel a rush of energy go through his entire body.
Just as quickly as it came, the pain and the rush stopped. Harry could sense a new, unfamiliar yet not unwelcome presence in his mind.
[Hello there.]
He said tentatively.
Instead of words, Harry was answered by feelings of joy and excitement.
Harry smiled.
For several hours after Harry entered the egg chamber, Murtagh and Eragon waited outside.
At first, Murtagh sat in the grass and waited patiently. However, he was soon pacing back and forth.
"Murtagh, what are you so worried about?" Eragon asked. "After all, you are not the one being tested."
"I know that." Murtagh replied, a little more sharply than he intended. "I am only concerned."
Eragon sighed.
"Murtagh, we have discussed this several times. You do not and should not have to worry about how Harry is viewed if he becomes a Rider."
Murtagh glared at his brother.
"And what if someone attempts to force him into slavery just as Thorn and I were?"
Eragon sighed.
"Murtagh, you do not have to worry so much about this. Last I was aware, there are not any dark sorcerers who are making a grasp for power."
"But there could be." Murtagh argued. "You never know. One could be rising as we speak."
"And I highly doubt they would go after Harry specifically."
"Why wouldn't they?" Murtagh argued. "After all, Harry is famous for defeating a dark wizard when he was an infant. And he is also the son of Murtagh Morzanson Kingkiller and the nephew of Eragon Shadeslayer."
"Yes, exactly." Eragon replied. "And we will not let anything happen to Harry."
[Nor shall we.]
Thorn agreed as he and Saphira landed next to their Riders.
[We can sense that he is close to becoming a Rider.]
A sudden thrill went through him.
[Are you sure?]
[Yes.]
Thorn replied.
[I can sense that an egg is about to hatch.]
Murtagh could not stop the large smile that spread across his face. Despite his worries, this was still a great moment. His son was about to become a Dragon Rider.
His heart swelled with pride and his eyes filled with tears of joy.
His feelings were only amplified when he sensed the surge of magic that came from the egg chamber.
He looked to Eragon, who was smiling just as widely.
"I knew he could do it." Eragon said.
Still smiling, both men turned to the door and opened it. Once the door opened, he could see Harry, sitting on the floor with a newly hatched dragon in his lap. Murtagh was over-joyed to see his son as a Dragon Rider. However, he could not prevent the stab of fear that came once he saw the colour of his son's dragon.
Red, of course. Morzan, him, now Harry. A legacy of red.
Still, he smiled as Harry got to his feet, clutching the dragon to his chest like a small child. His son walked to him and he instantly wrapped the young man in a strong embrace.
Later that night, Harry was sitting on his bed, his little dragon attempting to wander around on unsteady legs. Harry thought that it was really cute. Maybe this was what Hagrid saw in Norbert, only Harry was not about to call himself mummy.
After he had returned with Murtagh, Eragon, and his dragon, he had instantly gone up to his room, still holding his new little friend. Murtagh and Eragon had informed him that, tomorrow, they would have a ceremony officially making him part of the Dragon Rider order. Harry was both excited and nervous. On one hand, he was hoping that, by becoming one of the order, he would finally find somewhere where he could fit in, just as he felt when first entering the wizarding world, just before he discovered the dark truth.
However, he was also afraid of being rejected by the Riders. While most of them had somewhat grown to trust him, there was still the fear of rejection that had been beaten into him by the Dursley's abuse.
Thankfully, he had his dragon, who sent him feelings of joy and comfort.
Now, he was looking through a book of Dragon names, while occasionally glancing over at his dragon. Thanks to Thorn and Saphira, he knew that his dragon was a female, so that was the kind of name he was looking for. He was just having trouble finding the right one.
[Hmm,]
He began.
[How about Delil?]
The dragon shook her head.
[Okay, how about Iomnaeni?]
Again, she shook her head.
Harry went through a few more names. Finally, he found one.
[Okay, how about Colaen?]
For the first time, her head perked up. On her wobbly legs, she walked over to the bed and jumped up next to him.
[Do you like it?]
He asked.
For a long time in which Harry believed she was thinking about it, she was silent. Finally, Harry felt emotions of satisfaction.
[Okay, Colaen it is.]
He smiled.
The newly named Colaen jumped off of the bed again and walked to his wardrobe. She nudged open the door to reveal where Harry had dumped all of his old clothes from the Dursleys in a large pile at the bottom. Colaen tugged on one of the horrid garments.
Harry put the book down and got up from the bed. He walked over to the wardrobe.
[Don't.]
He said.
[I highly doubt they taste nice.]
He picked up what Colaen had been pulling on and rinkled his nose.
[My relatives made me wear these.]
He continued.
[Disgusting, I know. I just haven't gotten around to disposing of them.]
He grinned.
[I believe that last time I thought about getting rid of those rags, I wanted to burn them.]
He chuckled at the thought.
Colaen sent him an image of the pile of clothes burning and a feeling of satisfaction.
Harry glanced at his dragon.
[You think I should do it?]
Colaen did something that Harry supposed was the dragon equivalent of a nod.
Harry thought for a second.
[Well, there is a pretty large fire-pit. I guess I could ask Father if I could use it.]
Harry could feel the excitement from his dragon.
He smiled.
[Alright, lets go do it.]
And with that, he scooped up Colaen and left his room.
Harry found Murtagh in his bedroom, reading. When the door opened, the man looked up to see him.
"Hello Harry." He said, smiling. "Have you and your Dragon agreed on a name yet?"
"Yeah." Harry replied, smiling. "We've decided to call her Colaen."
Murtagh smiled.
"That is a wonderful name."
"But that's not why I came here." Harry continued, still smiling. "I was wondering, is it okay if I used the fire-pit?"
Murtagh frowned.
"I suppose, but..."
"Thanks."
And with that, Harry quickly left the room.
"Wait!" Murtagh called, running after his son.
Fortunately, he did not catch up to Harry until the younger rider had reached his room. Harry, still holding Colaen, walked into his room and opened the wardrobe fully.
"Wait!"
Harry turned to see Murtagh, panting, in his doorway.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, nothing." Harry replied, grinning.
Murtagh frowned.
"What are you planning?"
"Oh, well," Harry began. "You know how I still have all these old things from the Dursleys?"
"Yes." Murtagh replied suspiciously.
"Well, I've decided to get rid of them." Harry replied.
"And why would you need the fire-pit?" Murtagh asked, though Harry suspected he knew the answer.
"To burn them of course." Harry replied.
Murtagh sighed and rubbed his temples.
"Why are you burning them?"
"Why wouldn't I burn them?" Harry retorted. "I want to get rid of them, permanently."
Murtagh sighed and walked into the room. He then picked up the large pile of clothes.
"I shall assist you, as it appears your arms are currently full of a newly hatched dragon."
Harry chuckled.
"Okay, but I want to start the fire."
It was so late at night that there was hardly anyone in the halls. They did not meet anyone as they went down to the fire-pit, Murtagh carrying the clothes and Harry carrying Colaen.
Once they left the doors and reached the fire pit, Murtagh dumped the disgusting clothes on the fire-pit and Harry gently placed Colaen on one of the logs surrounding it.
[Stay there.]
He said.
[I don't care how pretty the fire is, it will hurt you if you go to close.]
He patted his dragon on her head.
He turned and walked closer to the fire-pit and the pile of clothes.
With great satisfaction, he said, "Brisingr", and stepped back as the red flames went up.
He walked over to the log where Colaen was and sat beside her. Murtagh sat on his other side.
Together, they watched the flames clime high. A smile spread across his face as he watched the horrible rags that he had been forced to call clothes went up in smoke. These were the last physical objects that tethered him to his horrible relatives, and they were now burning away.
He thought about his childhood, of the scared little boy curled up in his cupboard and longing for someone to love him. Of the lonely days and nights that he cried himself to sleep and wished for the pain to end, one way or another. For so long, he had been alone.
He looked to his Father, then to his dragon. Two people who loved him.
He thought about all that he had now, friends, family, people who loved him for him, and not for his fame. He had a home.
He looked at the fire again.
He had had an awful childhood. He had dreamt for so long of leaving his tormenters behind.
Well now he had.
He had been through hell, and he pushed through it. He was strong, he was a surviver.
As he watched the fire, he thought that the clothes were not the only things burning away.
The scared little boy in the cupboard was gone. And from his ashes, like a phoenix, he rose. He was covered in scars, both the kinds that could be seen and that could not be seen. But he was stronger for them.
And, finally, he could feel as if he could put his past and the Dursleys behind him.