A/N: What's to say? Enjoy.

Later that day, Harry flicked his wand, a simple levitating charm rolling off his lips as he walked from the small, adjoining kitchen and into the large and relatively bare training room. Behind him trailed a floating tray, which held a small cup of yoghurt and a fruit salad of fresh fruit, the perfect bait for one trying to lure and capture a faery. He floated the tray down into the middle of the small, summoning circle in the centre of the room and, while humming absently, bent down and held out his left hand, his wand clasped in his right. With a small flick and a murmured incantation, the wand tip suddenly glinted with strange silver light and Harry, still humming, ran it across his hand.

Skin parted where the wand tip touched and droplets of blood dripped from his hand, dropping into the small cup of yoghurt. Red stained the white surface as Harry held out his hand, watching as Meciel worked her dark powers through his body, sealing up the small cut in only a few seconds. He flexed his hand, feeling no twinge of pain, and then bent down to the yoghurt, picking up a spoon from the tray. With a few quick stirs, the blood quickly disappeared as it mixed with the yoghurt, while Harry smiled in satisfaction.

When trying to summon any creature, faery or demon, there were two things that were absolutely essential in trapping and containing them. First, you needed a true name. For demons, this usually wasn't a problem as they were only too eager to give out their names and allow themselves to be summoned. It gave them more chances to barter for power and gain more souls for their underworld. For faeries, however, true names were a lot harder to obtain and Harry got the impression that Meciel had gone to a lot of trouble many decades back to acquire this particular faeries name. The second thing you needed was a magical circle to hold them. Unlike demons, faeries played by different rules and the magical circle used to restrain them needed a small sacrifice in order to temporarily bind the being in the mortal realm. This was when Harry's blood came into it. When the fairy consumed or tasted the yoghurt and touched the blood, the sacrifice was acknowledged and the circle would close up, leaving it trapped for Harry's purposes.

“Does this look right to you?” Harry murmured out loud, his voice echoing through the quiet apartment. From within his mind, Meciel stirred and answered him.

'Yes, beloved. I can see nothing wrong with the summoning circle. Remember to keep your magic flowing into it, but do not activate it until the fairy has taken consumed the sacrifice.'

Harry nodded and took a deep breath, and then called out the name of the faery he wanted to summon. It was a series of lilting musical syllables far to complex for the human ear to decipher alone. The closest and most approximate English-sounding name that Harry could recognise was 'Cessbulby'. The words reverberated around the room as Harry leeched his power into his voice, making it compulsive and binding, and then he waited patiently, standing silently at the back of the room. If he had been trying to capture a faery without letting it know that it was being captured, then he would have hidden the circle, allowing it to wonder in and trap itself with the lure of food. But, this time at least, he was making no attempt to hide his actions and was literally yanking it from its home in the Nevernever to the apartment, not even giving the faery a chance to escape.

Suddenly, from within the summoning circle, a faint silvery glow started flashing into the air, growing brighter and brighter with each passing second. From within this silvery glow came a showering cloud of sparkling silver motes, which fell to the ground, disappearing as it touched the wood with soft pops and short, tiny blinks of light. The glow grew brighter and brighter until a flash of red and blue burst forward, and a female faery appeared. She had silver dragonfly's wings sprouting from her back, flapping quickly as she hovered over the wooden floor. Her body was tiny, no bigger than six inches, but distinctly humanoid and beautiful. A silver nimbus of ambient light surrounded her, highlighting her fae charms as her shaggy, silken little mane of pinkish-red hair swayed on the power of her own flapping wings. Her eyes, a bright blue set of orbs, were furious as she made a loud squeaking noise of anger, sounding more childish than annoying.

However, her anger almost evaporated as she sniffed the air, her face suddenly growing both excited and wary. She looked down and Harry could hear her gasp with excitement and hunger as she spotted the food. He ducked his head out from the next room, watching closely as the small, immortal being glanced around furtively and hovered down to the plate. The faery rubbed her little stomach and slowly dragged her finger through the small cup of yoghurt, licking her lips as she brought the dripping digit to her mouth and sucked on it. The instant she did, Harry focussed a slither of power into the circle and heard it close with a little snap.

The faery at once realised that she had been trapped and let out a shrill, high-piercing scream as she jumped into the air, her wings flapping furiously, Clouds of silver motes, her faery dust, blew into the air as she zoomed forward with great speed, almost a blur of light and noise as she tried to escape. But the circle shimmered with dark-reddish hues of magic as the faery struck into it, puffs of sparkling dust exploding from her body as she fell, landing on the ground roughly. She sat up, her blue eyes glowing with her anger as they searched the room for the one who had trapped her. It was at this time that Harry revealed himself.

“You!” The Faery demanded angrily, pointing a little finger at Harry. “Who are you? Release me at once!”

Harry seemed to consider it, his eyes flicking upwards as a thoughtful expression appeared on his face.

“Um…no,” He responded mockingly and watched with a certain degree of amusement as the faery screamed out in anger, folding her arms as she flew back into the air, anger etched into every pore of her cute little face, her hair flicking back as she spoke, menace dripping from her voice.

“Release me or I shall strike at you with all of the power of Winter,” She hissed threateningly, her words anything but cute. “Your house will fall under my mighty power; crumble into ice as I smite you with pox and boils! I will tear you from limb to limb, deliver your blood to the trolls, have the ogres devour your innards and place your head on the stalactites of the icy tombs! You will know true pain at my hand and power, but you can avoid your fate if you release me now!!”

Harry blinked, frowning in surprise and shock as the small faery glared at him angrily, her arms still folded. The nimbus of silver light flared around her and if Harry had been a metre or so smaller, he might have found her a little more intimidating. As such, the faery being trapped behind a solid and impenetrable magical barrier, Harry pursed his lips and shook his head.

“No,” He said slowly. “I really don't think I will.”

The faery let out a shrill cry of anger and flew back to the ground, landing on the tray with a dull thud. She glared up at him, anger and the promise of pain in her soulless eyes as she inspected the barrier. Finally, after a few moments, she let out another cry of anger. “Release me!” She demanded angrily, her blue eyes flaring with a powerful blue glow.

“No,” Harry said quietly and firmly

The faery's demeanour changed then and a petulant expression came over her face, much like a spoiled child who had been sent to her room without dinner, and the anger faded from her face, being replaced with an immature sulkiness.

“Release me!” The faery cried again, but in a whining and sulky tone instead of anger. “I am a worker of the Winter Lady Maeve. If she were to find out what you have done to me, she would hunt you down!”

“I know you work for Maeve,” Harry answered as he sat down, crossing his legs and peering at the faery with bright green eyes. “I want to know if you've overheard anything lately.”

“I'm very busy!” The faery protested, sniffing haughtily as it turned away from Harry's gaze. “Let me go!'

“C'mon,” Harry said, a smile curving his lips as he watched the sulky little faery. “We used to do this all the time, Cessbulby.”

The faery, Cessbulby, swung her gaze back to Harry and suddenly eyed him in a new light as comprehension dawned on her little face.

“Meciel!” She howled angrily. “It's you again! You always do this, always, always, always! I remember now!”

Harry watched the reaction without too much concern. From what Meciel had told him, faeries such as this had bad memories, as you would if you were an immortal being, and needed a bit of jogging to remember the last time they had been tricked and forced into a magical circle.

“You did it to me again!” Cessbulby cried out as she stamped her little foot down on the tray, a cloud of silver faery dust billowing out from the impact.

The slam made a sharp, tapping noise, rattling the small cup of yoghurt and Cessbulby suddenly seemed to remember the reason why she had fallen into the trap and whirled around, eyeing the fruit and yoghurt hungrily as she licked her lips. Her eyes darted back to Harry and the food, indecision on her face, until she seemed to come to a decision.

“Now that you've dragged me here and I am hungry,” Cessbulby said slowly. “I suppose I could take a little break.”

Harry smiled and gestured to the food.

“It's all yours,” He said enticingly. “Of course, if you're eating here, we may as well talk to each other.

Cessbulby eyed him again and smiled. Her entire face lit up as she whirled around and dove for the food with a greedy look on her face, scooping in tiny handfuls of the diary product and shoving it into her mouth.

Harry watched Cessbulby with a look of bewildered disgust as she tore into the fruit, dipping large chunks of mango into the yoghurt and swallowing it whole, cramming more into her mouth than a being her size should have been able to. Her stomach was looking a little bloated as Cessbulby licked her fingers, her blue eyes swinging his way as she continued talking.

“And Meg told me that Toot said that he had heard O'Reilly say that Anthadia, who's one of Winter's bastion commanders, lost an entire scout unit in summer's territory,” She was saying cheerfully as she reached for another grape with her little hands, ripping into it with her sharp nails and holding it to her head. Grape juice oozed from the hole as Cessbulby chugged it down, fruity liquid spilling all over her tiny clothes.

“Anyway, Maeve was so angry with him that she ripped off both of his arms and threw him down a volcano to burn in punishment for a few years,” Cessbulby concluded, tearing at the flesh of the grape with greedy hands.

“What about the Order of the Blackened Denarius?” Harry asked quickly, before Cessbulby could continue on with her strangely fascinating but totally irrelevant stories of Winter Court politics. “Has Maeve watched anything with them in it?”

Cessbulby shrugged carelessly, reaching for the last grape and gnawing on it. Harry waited as she ripped open the flesh and sculled the juice down, licking her lips when she was finished and directing her gaze back at Harry.

“Nothing special,” She said cheerfully, shrugging, and then let out a small burp, patting her mouth absently. “There are still the fights between Nicodemus and his lot and the other Fallen who won't follow him. Big fight up in the icy country the other night, it got us all excited!”

“Anything else?” Harry pressed firmly, his eyes serious and intent as he leaned forward. “Something closer to this place?”

Cessbulby frowned, considering the question carefully as she cocked her head, her expression thoughtful. This lasted for about a second before a blinding smile came over her face.

“Nope,” She answered cheerfully as she stood up, wiping her mouth on her sleeve, her gleaming silver wings fluttering behind her. Harry frowned but nodded as he also stood up, a polite smile washing over his face.

“Did you like your meal?” He asked courteously.

Cessbulby took a deep breath, her head rising as a superior and haughty expression flickered onto her face.

“I deem your offering acceptable to a faery of my stature,” She stated imperiously. “Now, I must leave and attend to my duties. Release me at once, Denarian.”

Harry bowed his head, hiding his mockery and putting a serious expression on his face as he moved forward, preparing to shatter the magical integrity of the circle with a physical object. He casually wave his hand through the gleaming dark-red circle of magic and saw it splutter out, the magic flickering and cackling as it lost its form and dissipated.

“I hope you enjoyed the break,” Harry said to Cessbulby, who fluttered in the air in front of him. “We should do this more often.”

Cessbulby narrowed her eyes, staring at him with a trace of suspicion as she hesitated, before a brilliant and somewhat sly smile came over her face.

“Oh yes, but not too often, methinks, or else I might get into trouble. Now, I will depart from here,” She said imperiously and ruined her self-absorbed expression as winked a luminous blue at Harry and allowed an almost-childish cute grin to appear on her face. “Meg told me that they had caught a summer fairy in Winter so we're going to go and rips its wings off. It will be fun!”

Cessbulby ignored Harry's blink of shock as she disappeared in a soft sparkle of faery dust, silver motes of shining magic falling to the ground in a heap of wave as the small faery travelled back to the Nevernever. Harry watched this as he sat back, a slightly bewildered look on his face.

“It's wrong that something so cute can be so…bloodthirsty,” He said out loud.

'It's a Winter fairy, icy, cold and totally without remorse,' Meciel said, humour laced in her voice. “What did you expect, beloved?'

Harry gave a small shrug as he brought out his wand, flicking a casual levitation charm and sending the now filthy and food splattered tray into the kitchen as Meciel continued talking.

'Congratulations, beloved. You have just gained a powerful source of reliable information, especially since that faery that works close to the Winter Lady.'

Harry gave a snort as he turned the water on, letting it fill the sink.

“She didn't tell me anything about the Fallen that tried to bump me off the other night,” He said as he begun scrubbing the dirty tray with a sponge. “I only just managed to get away from him.”

'He took you by surprise, beloved, but I know him. He is in one of the lower Fallen, driven to madness by the Void to where he was banished.' Meciel said, disgust and revulsion echoing in her voice. 'He cares nothing more than for the taste of blood, for violence and indulging himself in his pleasures.'

“Who do you think sent him?” Harry asked as he moved onto the next plate, turning the tap off and reaching for the detergent bottle, emptying it into the sink.

'He was most likely sent by Deirdre to hunt you down and kill you,' Meciel answered thoughtfully. 'It may have been on her father's orders, but I do not think that Nicodemus would have sent such an unreliable weapon to kill you. Deirdre is probably nursing her wounded pride but has other matters to occupy herself with.'

“Next time, I'll be ready for him,” Harry said grimly, scrubbing at the plate furiously.

'You could defeat him should you go prepared, beloved. He will attack with anger and rage, not with strategy and cunning. But while your demonic form is very powerful, it brings with it a great rage and hatred. You must strive to keep them under control if you wish to win.'

Harry nodded thoughtfully, a pensieve expression on his face.

“I suppose we'll see if I can manage that when he attacks me again,” He said heavily, placing the other dish on the rack.

'I have faith in you, beloved. I always do.'

Harry smiled softly, and then snorted as he shook his head in amusement.

“You know, you're not as nasty as you try to make yourself out to be,” He said smugly and he could feel Meciel's amusement within him.

'Perhaps.'

Harry finished up the last of the dishes in content and comfortable silence, drying his hands on the ragged tea-towel and leaving the kitchen, making his way back into the large, empty training room.

'Have you considered using the circle do summon the demon again?'

“I got to find a schmuck to use as a sacrifice, don't I?” Harry asked, pursing his lips. “Nah, we'll see if we can lure this guy out first and I have an idea already. So, Meciel, do you like McDonalds?”

Later that night

“Welcome to McDonald, how may I serve you?”

Harry stared at the teenage girl in front of him, eyeing that bright phoney smile with a barely hidden shudder as he glanced around the small restaurant, which was mostly empty at this time of a night. A group of teenage boys with faces of metal piercing and chains and sporting dark clothes sat at one table, talking softly with each other. On the other side of the restaurant, Harry noticed a balding and chubby man with a briefcase devouring a burger, while in front of him, the girl continued smiling as four other teenagers dressed in the uniform worked behind her, cooking up fries and burgers.

“Hey, what do you want?” The girl prompted gently, a real smile coming over her face as she brushed her ratty, sweaty hair out of her eyes, and gazed at the kid in front of her

Harry made a humming as he frowned at the overheard menu. With a look of mock-indecision, he reached into his dark raincoat, gripping the cold metallic handle tightly.

“Well, to start off with, I'd like…” Harry trailed off, his face marked with childish hesitancy, before it hardened into something colder, something darker, and he brought the revolver out of his pocket and aimed it at the girls head. “The money. Yeah, I'm going to have to go with the money.”

The girl made a squeaking noise, her eyes wide with fear as her mouth clamped shut, her lips pressing together until they were white. Her eyes darted around the room as Harry gestured pointedly at the register with the gun and she opened it up with shaky hands, piling bills of money out into a takeaway bag. Harry noticed movement from the corner of his eye and turned his head, seeing the chubby man rising to his feet, his empty tray in his hand.

“Hey!” Harry shouted, swinging the gun at him. The man looked up in puzzlement and visibly started, his chins wobbling as he noticed the gleaming barrel of the gun levelled towards him. “Sit the fuck down, fatty!”

The man quickly sat down, panic and fear easily visible on his face as Harry swung around, levelling the gun at the teenage kids, who had looked up at his shouting.

“And you, you fucking punks! Sit back down! You're not going anywhere!” He snarled, letting the darkness flash in his eyes as he watched the teenagers hurriedly sit down again.

He turned back to the register, seeing the frightened girl shove a fistful of money down the bag, her eyes blinking away tears as her gaze flickered between him and the register. Behind her, the other workers were curiously absent, probably trying to stay out of sight and ring the police.

“Alright, that's enough!” Harry snarled and snatched the bag from the girl and shoved it into his coat, while the girl flinched at his tone and sudden action. “Now, there's one more thing I want you to do.”

“W-What is it?” The girl stammered out, her dark eyes welling with tears.

“Take this down and don't get it wrong,” Harry said clearly. “Now, I want a medium quarter-pounder meal,” Harry begun. “I don't want coke, though; make it a chocolate thickshake instead. With the fries, I want them heavily salted…lots of salt, alright?”

The girl blinked in astonishment but one glance from Harry made her straighten up in fear as she ducked her head, nodding quickly.

“One medium quarter-pounder meal, chocolate thickshake, fries with extra salt,” She rattled off quickly, her mind easily slipping into the more comfortable routine to the point where she couldn't help herself. “Would you like anything else with that?”

Harry stared at her as she flushed, embarrassment spreading over her cheeks, and then nodded.

“Yeah, there are two things,” He said calmly. “First, get me some cookies….no, not that box…yeah, that's the one. As for the second thing, I want to know…”

Here Harry swivelled his gun around, turning his head as he levelled the revolver around one of the teenagers, who had sneaked out of his seat and had crept behind Harry.

“What you're doing out of your seat.” He finished coldly.

The teenager gulped, but forced a defiant look on his face.

“That's not a real gun,” He tried to sneer, but failed miserable, his tone uncertain. “I'm not an idiot, for fuck's sake! C'mon, you're only a little boy for…”

Harry rolled his eyes, lowered the barrel of the gun and pressed the trigger. A deafening roar burst through the restaurant and the boy gave a scream of fear, jumping backing as the ground near his feet exploded in a tiny geyser of dust, a relatively large hole appearing in the floor.

“Do you really want to die for a medium quarter-pounder meal, with a shake instead of a coke and some oversalted fries?” Harry asked the teen, derision on his face. “I mean, is that how you planned to go out?”

The boy slowly shook his head and without any further prompting from Harry, quickly made his way back to his seat and collapsed in it, his face pale and shaky, while Harry turned back to the girl and grabbed his meal.

“Now, I'm leaving now,” Harry said clearly and loudly. He held up his gun, the barrel still emitting small wisps of smoke form the recent discharge. “If anybody leaves, anybody, I will shoot you. Do we understand this?”

The girl in front of him nodded quickly, her hair bobbing up and down as Harry ran his eyes over the room, meeting the gaze of everybody there. He allowed himself to give a small, smug smile and quickly turned and walked to the exit, opening the door into the cold darkness and slipping outside.

Outside, Harry gave a small snicker as his face caved in, the coldness and darkness fleeing as quickly as it had came as he fumbled with the bag, his gun still in hand, and munched on a couple of the fries.

'Was that really necessary?'

“Oh, c'mon,” Harry protested in amusement as he walked away from the building. “We got what we needed done and I got some money and food out of it. They won't be stepping out of the building anytime soon.”

'Beloved!'

At Meciel's sudden warning, Harry looked forward and allowed his eyes to widen in shock. There in front of him, bathed under the light of the nearby lamppost, stood a man. He had bloodshot eyes and a fanatical, drugged-up look on his face, his body lanky and gaunt, but also strong. Madness shined in his eyes and he bared his teeth out threateningly, showing off the permanent bloodstains.

For a moment, the two of them stood there, staring at each other, before the man let out an animalistic growl and started to move forward. Harry dropped the bag, his dinner forgotten, and raised his gun, his stance instinctively shifting as he fired.

Loud, booming roars echoed into the night sky as the gun flared with bright light. A bullet slammed into the man, knocking him to the side as the scrambled across the ground, taking cover behind the nearest car as Harry continued firing, a few bullets striking into the car. The moment Harry heard a click as he pressed the trigger he did what any smart boy would have done.

He ran.

Harry ran as fast as he could, ducking behind a car as he tore through the parking lot. Adrenaline and excitement pounded into his veins as he heard the man behind him chasing after him, heavy footsteps accompanied by frenzied, snarling pants, the man sounding more like a dog than a man. Harry didn't turn his head back as he sprinted down the street and turned right at one of the alleyways. The man chased after him, bloodlust shining in his eyes as he let out a vicious snarl, an impossibly deep noise coming from the back of his throat as the dim, logical part of his mind remembered that alley was one-way.

Harry suddenly stopped and spun around, the fear and surprise gone from his eyes and replaced with a look of ruthlessness and determination, his eyes glinting in the dark night. As the man turned the corner, spittle and drool flying out of his mouth, Harry let an arrogant smirk wash over his face as the man stopped; his eyes suddenly cautious as he found his target standing in the middle of alley, seemingly unconcerned.

“You're an idiot for coming back to the same place where you first attacked me,” Harry said coldly, raising his left hand as the jewel on the ring glinted with dark, powers, a searing heat roaring into his veins with a rush of pleasure and power. “Did you really think I wouldn't be prepared?”

Without another word, Harry focussed his magic and let the searing power roar out of him, building up in his trap as he awaited the right chance to activate it. The man snarled, stepping forward and placing himself exactly where Harry wanted him. With a flare of light, Harry activated his magical circle and watched with cruel, green eyes as a dome of glimmering hues of dark-red and purple magic enveloped the other Fallen, who let out a piercing scream of pain. The temperature in the alley suddenly increased as Harry poured his power into the circle. The other man's skin started to sizzle as the heat inside the circle dramatically increased and he was still screaming when he began to change, an almost instantaneous change as he grew, shaggy, dark fur enveloping his body as a thick, cruel muzzle jutted out from his mouth, curved fangs sprouting out.

In almost three seconds, a massive dog-like creature stood where the man had. Two sets of glowing eyes glared at Harry with demonic hatred, one set glowing blue, the other cherry red, and the beast let out a loud roar, the sound echoing in the alley. Harry grimaced as he tried to hold the circle, dark powers flowing through him in a torrent of cascading heat, but the creature thrashed, snarling and snapping out with its teeth at the barrier and Harry gave a small cry of pain as he lost control. For a second, the barrier flickered out of existence and it was all the time the creature needed to jump out, advancing towards Harry with a vicious snarl. It jumped forward, fully preparing to rip Harry's throat out when the young boy changed, bony wings springing from his back a thick bone-plated tail bursting from Harry's back. A set of glowing silver-eyes appeared below his green ones and thick, powerful arms shot out as Harry, now a bone-wrym, snarled, backhanding the other Fallen away.

The Fallen let out a loud whine as he was pitched through the air, landing on his side as he struck the pavement. The Fallen demonic dog shook its head dazedly as it climbed back up to all fours, rage and hatred flashing through its eyes as it whirled around and charged for Harry again. Harry let out his own roar of pain as he swiped at the demonic dog, missing it as it sunk its incredibly powerful fangs into one of his legs, but a vicious slash with one of his wings managed to pry the demonic dog off him, giving the thing a good kick as he hurled it down the alley again.

The dog landed roughly, a soft whimpering noise coming from its mouth as it struck the concrete with great force. It staggered up as Harry roared at it, a demonic rage clouding his mind as the pain, no matter how slight, dove deep into his primal instincts. He could feel a haze of power come over his mind, he had never been stronger, faster, and more powerful as he was now and he let out another triumphant roar, the noise echoing in the alleyway. The dog let loose his own snarl, injured but insane as it staggered up, madness shining in its eyes as the two demonic creatures prepared to do battle again.

At least, they had planned to.

It was at that moment that two figures, men, strode into view. Harry glared at them, his eyes burning with demonic rage and bloodlust, while the demonic dog did the same, baring its teeth as it snarled ferociously, salvia dripping from elongated incisors. The men, however, didn't flee or even shy away as they turned to the demons, their faces stern and hard.

“Surrender now, Denarians,” commanded the tallest of them, a Russian with dark skin and heavy eyes. His voice was strong and resonating with something odd undertones of something powerful laced throughout it and for a moment, Harry could have thought he had heard a barrage of loud trumpets playing a single, crisp, clear note.

The demonic dog snarled and at once, leapt for them, his fangs glinting in the moonlight as he flew towards them. The two men reacted simultaneously, sidestepping to either side of the flying dog, and swords suddenly appeared in their hands. The water-patterned steel of the blade glowed with a steady silver flame that slowly grew brighter as the men moved as one, the blades whistling through the air and slicing into the demonic dog's thick hide with ease. The dog gave a loud, high-pitched whine as it collapsed to the ground, its eyes pained yet angrier and more crazed than before.

“Stop resisting,” commanded one of the men, who sported dark hair sprayed with silver and a well-trimmed beard. “There is always a chance for repentance!”

The wounded Fallen, despite his injuries, snapped out with his teeth, spittle flying to the ground, and them man took a hasty step backwards as his sword flew up, slicing into the thick, furry snout. Silver fire flared in the alleyway as the blade cut into the other Fallen and the man stepped back as the demonic dog crumpled to the ground, blood oozing from its latest and undeniably fatal wound.

“You!” called out the Russian man, his gruff voice thick with accent. “Surrender now!”

Harry let out a defiant roar, his demon form clouding his mind with bloodlust and demonic rage. Distantly, in the back of his mind, he could hear a woman saying something frantically, her voice pleading with him to listen to her, but the more primal instincts of his brain reacted the obvious threat in the man's voice first and lashed out with his wing, bone as sharp as steel lancing out towards the man. The man stepped back, his sword flaring with blazing silver fire as he parried the blow and Harry let out an enormous scream of agony, his bestial roar echoing out through the night as the blade sliced through the bone, tearing through the powerful dark enchantments and Denarian power with ease.

He staggered back, his mind clouded with pain and rage as he lashed out again, his armoured tail flicking through the air, tearing through a brick wall with ease, and slamming down on the ground. The man dodged this blow, throwing himself to the side as Harry's tail smashed into the concrete, while the other man advanced, his silver sword glimmering through the air as it struck into his tail and shattered the armoured bone, diving deep into the vulnerable flesh. Harry let out another scream of pain, liquid silver flame seemingly running through his body, and staggered backwards, lashing out with his fists as he avoided the blades of the men as they surrounded him.

'You must stop, beloved! They are Knights of the Cross; their blades can cut through your most fearsome enchantments! Cease your attack!'

But Harry was too far gone, his mind clouded with his baser instincts as he continued to rage, fists and tail smashing into the surroundings brick walls and building sides as the men, the Knights, moved forward with deadly grace, slicing away at him, attacking his exposed flanks and leaving searing trails of blood and silver fire as their swords flared with holy light.

Eventually, after thirty seconds of complete and utter madness, one of the knights moved forward, his sword poised. Harry glared down at him with his two sets of eyes, power flowing through his weakened body as he raised his fist, preparing to smash the man into the ground, when the second knight darted forward, his blade slicing through the air with a deadly hiss. Silver fire blossomed in Harry's chest as he let out his third and final scream of pain, agony coursing through his veins as he collapsed to the ground, his body making a loud thud as it slammed into the concrete, while the knight pulled his glowing blade from his chest, standing above him grimly.

'Transform, beloved! This form is about to die! You must transform!'

The agony had washed away his rage and Harry closed both sets of eyes, dispelling the remains of his once-mighty enchantments. His body shrank, his tail disappearing and his one remaining wing of bone melting into his back. After a second or two, Harry, fully human, collapsed to the ground, silver fire still burning in his chest. Clarity suddenly returned to him and he let out a quiet moan of pain as he rolled over, his green eyes wide as he frantically touched his chest. His fingers touched something wet and when he drew them back, he saw crimson blood, and he let out a quieter moan, his mind already drifting away as his pain dulled.

“Meciel…” He muttered softly to himself, his voice barely a whisper as he fumbled for one of his weapons, the gun, the wand, the sword hidden under his long rain-coat, anything! But his fingers were clammy, shaking and barely moving, so he lay there silently, his emerald eyes staring up at the beautiful night sky.

'Beloved!

Harry heard Meciel's cry of concern and distress as something came into his view, blocking the stars and moon from above, and he blinked. Dazed emerald eyes stared up at the knights as they approached him, both looking shocked, surprised and decidedly grim. They glanced at him and then each other, their mouths moving quickly as they talked to one another. Harry tried to listen in, he really did, but he could only hear bursts of the conversation, as if he were losing his hearing.

“Just a child….still a Fallen….will you be the one to kill him…Still one of the black Denarian, Meciel probably conquered his mind…what do you suggest?”

“Going to murder me now?” Harry taunted weakly, his emerald eyes struggling to focus in front of him. “Go on then, finish it off you bast…!”

He never finished the sentence as he burst into a fit of coughs, loud, choking sounds suddenly sounding very loud to his ears. He could feel a thick liquid escaping his lips, staining his white teeth and he shuddered, closing his pained emerald eyes as tears welled in them, trickling down his cheeks. Slowly, and with great effort, he reached up with a shaky hand and clasped his chest, where the coin of Meciel hung on a heavily enchanted and charmed necklace.

'I cannot heal this, beloved, not this soon after the sword. Heaven's wrath still lingers within you, it is clouding my ability to….beloved? Beloved, listen to my voice! No, listen…don't fall asleep….don't…asleep…I…dieing…time…………beloved'

And that was when Harry's world went black.