844Harry Potter and the Four Horsemen
Disclaimer: As Before
Dedication: I would like to dedicate this story to ADVPhoenix for creating the challenge and to everyone that stays with me throughout everything I do. My recommended read for this story is Midnight Sun and it's sequel Darkest Night, Shadowed Dawn by Herald-MageAnduli, which is an amazing pair of stories featuring the topic of this story: Wrong BWL.
Harry/Hermione
Neville/Luna
Normal Speech
'Thought'
'Mind Link'
/Parseltongue/
Review Responses:
Luxord5294: While it's a nice idea, it's not how I write or post my stories; thanks for the idea, though;
Thisisnutz: I'm sure that my bite by the Harmony Bug will be infecting more of my stories soon; and thank you for the note about the name;
ADVPhoenix: Like I said, I CURSE you for bringing my inspirational side out again; but, seriously, thanks;
DraconicWrath: Well thank you for being honest and I hope you continue to enjoy this story;
StormyFireDragon: Yeah, Storm, I sent you that PM explaining things better than I could;
Man of the western light: While that would be a good idea, I have my own little idea for what the steeds look like;
AbrielNexus: Yeah, now I just have to find a way to work that into the story, but don't worry, I'm bound to find a way;
SleepyMangaHead: Sounds more like something that Harry would dream about or make a lovely little omake for the story since I don't plan on that happening just yet;
Harryhermionealways: Even if she does do that, she still has to answer for her crime against her former flesh and blood;
Nevertheless, Harry's mind felt clearer than it had been in over a year: yes, this scythe, these new powers, the mysterious Ragnarok, each of these things would give him the means to achieve his revenge and, when he found and bound the other three to his power and his leadership, Harry knew what he would do.
He would show them what true darkness looked like…
Chapter 2: The Horsemen Gather
Since that fated night in July, Harry had undergone a remarkable transformation over two years and, when his letter inviting him to Hogwarts turned up, he didn't waste time. He not only sent the response, knowing it would stick a real thorn in his target's side, but he also sent a letter to his godfather to meet him at the Orphanage and take him to Diagon Alley. The reason that he did this was because, not long after he'd been left at the Orphanage, he and Severus had met and the man had told him straight: I despise your Father, Harry, but you are my godson and I cannot hate you. Anything, anytime, day or night, you let me know.
When Severus arrived on the eve of Harry's eleventh birthday, he seemed content to notice that his godson hadn't given up his lifestyle just because he was in an orphanage that was used for Muggle children: Harry was still tall and lean, his black hair now stuck up on his head like a crown of raven-black thorns. His eyes shone without any glasses or visual impairments restricting his vision – unlike Jason, Severus noted, who took after his accursed Father and wore glasses that made him look stupid – and, as though he was completing the image, Harry's dress sense had also changed.
He was now dressed in black denim jeans and a dark shirt that was covered by what could be described as a biker's leather jacket, two sets of silver spikes protruding from the shoulders of the jacket. Over Harry's feet, he wore a pair of black boots that seemed to make him look taller, though Severus knew that wasn't the case as Harry had always been tall for his age.
Despite his dark, brooding appearance, Harry's face did turn into a warm, welcoming smile as he remarked, "Uncle Severus, thanks for coming to help me: can we go?"
"What about your…guardians, Harry?" asked Severus, though he felt a shiver cross him as he saw an icy smile pass over the face of the young wizard.
"They won't be a problem," he answered, his voice calm and focused, which made it impossible for Severus to determine whether or not the boy was telling the truth, "I told them that a friend was coming to take me out for the day and, like the fickle Muggle sheep that they are, they believed me. By the way, I have some good news and some bad news for you, Severus."
"And what would that be?" asked the Potions Master, his eyes glinting with amusement as he saw how calm and confident Harry looked.
"Well," Harry sighed, "I may as well start with the bad news: you remember that Jackass Jason is coming up this year as well, don't you?"
"How can I forget?" asked Severus, his voice laced with a shudder, "Potter sees fit to remind me every time I see him about his prodigal son and how Jason should be treated with respect; over my dead body…what? Is that the bad news?"
"Of course," Harry laughed, stepping out into the grim environment outside the orphanage where Severus took his arm, Harry already aware that they were going to Apparate: he'd felt the sensations before and, though he'd been asleep, he also remembered a moment of subconscious disorientation before he'd been left at the orphanage. "But the good news is something that will counter the bad."
"And what is that?" asked Severus, twisting on the spot as he and Harry Apparated to Diagon Alley where the young wizard would get his school supplies.
As they landed on their designated point, Harry gave that icy, almost shark-like smile once again as he explained, "I'm not following the Jackass into Gryffindor: I have a desire, a wish and a determination…to join you, Uncle Severus, in the House of Slytherin."
If any of the students that knew Severus Snape had passed him or encountered him in the moments that followed, they would have felt like the devil himself was in their midst due to the laughter that escaped the man as he led Harry through the Alley.
FourHorsemen
At the same time that Harry wandered into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, across the street, outside the Magical Menagerie, Neville Longbottom suddenly lifted his head as a strange tingle ran across the seal on his chest, his left hand flexing as he glanced to the robe-maker's store. Seeing both his soon-to-be new Professor and what appeared to be a student at his side, the young Longbottom narrowed his eyes and, giving the appearance of a slight twinge of heartburn, he rubbed at the seal on his chest, his eyes never leaving the duo that entered the seamstress' store.
'Could it be?' he wondered, before he was distracted by the calling voice of his Mother, the Second Horseman returning his visage and his mannerism to the new student that he was going to be.
'I guess I'll find out at Hogwarts.'
FourHorsemen
After travelling to the Alley with Severus, Harry returned to Wool's Orphanage where he returned to his room and, after locking the door, he took a deep breath before he allowed his hand to reach back and massage at the nape of his neck. He'd felt it: when he'd come out of Madam Malkin's and when he'd made his way to Ollivander's, his seal had tingled with an almost impossible-to-ignore sensation that had forced Harry to glance back only once, explaining to Severus that he'd thought he'd heard someone say his name.
However, the real reason was true and it was one that unnerved and excited Harry: thanks to the knowledge gained and honed from taking hold of the scythe, Harry knew that the seal's reaction was due to the presence of one of the Others. The stronger the reaction, the more members of his circle were nearby and, from what Harry had felt, it was clear that there was only one Other nearby, so it was nothing to be concerned with.
On the other hand, Harry hadn't been able to tell which of the Others had been nearby or who it had been and, with Severus nearby, it had been hard for him to use his new gifts to see for himself. That left only one option: Hogwarts.
If the Other, which was the title for the other Horsemen like him, was indeed in the Alleys, then it made a small amount of sense, just enough to make it seem logical anyway that they'd be going to Hogwarts.
It was just a matter of time…
FourHorsemen
The time was upon them: September First, the date that they'd attend Hogwarts, was now closer than ever – just 24 hours away, in fact – and, in their respected places, the Four Horsemen were all experiencing different sensations and emotions as they waited for the day where they would meet:
Hermione was packing the last of her items into her trunk, before she opened a secret compartment and stored her War Amulet – as she had named it – into the compartment, her eyes dark as she massaged her stomach, her hand trailing over the spot where her seal was located, her mind speaking for her as she wondered when she'd know the others.
Luna was happily drawing in her room within her home, her eyes watching the skyline outside and, in particular, the distant multi-storey house that was known as the Burrow, her mind making a silent pledge to keep the sheep away from her leader and her companions, her blue eyes shining brightly as she knew that the time was close. They wouldn't claim him: this much she knew from her diluted Seer's gift; no, her leader would get his wish and he would bring the first of many stages of Hell to those who had wronged him.
Neville was also packing the last of his school items into his trunk, his eyes falling on the cloak that had been his for two years, his body stiff and rigid as he considered the days ahead. He would be forced to share a dorm with the one whose soul he wished to poison most of all and yet, after knowing that he had others in his battle, Neville also knew that it would fall to the First to bring about that particular soul's destruction. However, if the owner of said soul thought of Neville as some bland little puppy dog, then the Second Rider had a few choice surprises for him and his band of cattle.
As for Harry, he was sitting comfortably on the windowsill of his bedroom within the Orphanage, a light rain falling outside his window, his scythe, which seemed to glow in the low light of his bedroom lights, resting over his lap as he watched the rain fall and the darkness pass over the land. It was almost time for him to make his return and, try as he might, Harry couldn't find it in himself to desire anything more than the end of everyone and everything that had turned his life against him.
When he'd gone to Diagon Alley with Severus, he'd found, to his rage that James had officially disowned him from the Potter Family and, in turn, had removed his trust vault from the list of Gringotts' many vaults. However, as though to counter that fact, Severus had been there to help as he'd added Harry to the allowed people and trusted recipients of monetary values from his own vault. Without an actual surname any longer, Harry had requested that the goblin address him by the surname of the one man that Harry could still respect in his life: Sirius Black.
When Severus had heard this, he asked how such a thing was possible and Harry told him about how Sirius was the only other adult he had trusted while staying with them and, if he was doomed to be without a family, then it was just the hand that fate had dealt him. It had taken twenty minutes, as well as a conversation with the head of the Black finance vaults, before a letter had come through to Gringotts from Sirius:
I hereby recognise, and personally encourage, the naming of the one formerly known as Harry James Potter to be Harry Black; as Lord Black, I also allow him access to my properties and fortunes as he needs or wishes.
Solemnly signed
Lord Sirius Orion Black
PS: I'm sorry cub, make no mistake: James will pay for what he's done to you; Severus and I will always be there for you, I promise.
Just the knowledge that Sirius was still on his side had made Harry feel marginally better and, after retrieving as much as he needed, he'd left Gringotts with a new determination to send James' soul straight through the gates of Hell and trap him in the seventh circle for all eternity.
However, as Harry knew, to do any of that, he needed three things first and their names were War, Pestilence and Famine, better known as the other Three Horsemen that added to his mantle of Death. Once they were together, their combined powers would be released and Harry would be free to act out on his own, which meant that he could ride out – no pun intended – and reap James Potter's soul before sending it straight to the deepest pit of hell.
As if to emphasise the determination felt by the First Rider, Harry smiled coldly as a bolt of lightning filled the sky, illuminating the dark, almost blood-thirsty glow in his green eyes.
"Soon…"
FourHorsemen
BANG!
James Potter didn't need to look up as the door to his lounge was kicked open, followed by hurried, and from the sounds of the breathing that accompanied, fury-filled footsteps approached his chair, the breathing and the anger accompanying those steps all too familiar to James as he muttered, "Hello, Padfoot: drink? Cigar?"
"Shut up, Prongs!" snarled Sirius Black, his hand itching to draw his wand after what he'd heard over a month before; it had taken talks with Remus and Severus as well as what few contacts Sirius could count on in the Ministry to deal with the fallout and now, Sirius was here, ready for answers. "How could you do it? To your own flesh and blood? How, James?"
"If you're referring to my ex-son," James answered, folding his copy of the Daily Prophet before he leaned back in his chair and smiled, "Quite easily in fact: once I had Lily's assistance with the task and Jason's desire to be an only child, it was a simple task of a Blood Disowning and now the black sheep that made Jason look bad is no longer a son of mine. Why?" he then laughed harshly, meeting the grey eyes of his best friend, "Has the little monster contacted you? Does he know that he can still rely on his Uncle Padfoot to pull his Slytherin ass out of the fire so easily?"
"Harry didn't contact me," Sirius told him, his voice filled with anger and his hand now closer to his wand than ever, "It was actually the work of my goblin liaison, who said that Harry had not been informed of his disowning and was asking, though it was more like the begging of an innocent child, to take my name as his surname. Have you no heart that you wouldn't even inform Harry to be present for this shameful moment in his life?"
"No," James answered simply, before he rose from his chair and, facing his friend once more, he added, "And if he's taken your name, then he's welcome to it: hiding in the darkness and trusting Snivellous over me and thinking he's better than Jason rather than acting like any real brother would. Do you know who he reminds me of, Padfoot? Regulus!"
SMACK!
The punch came so quickly that James actually hadn't expected it to come at all; as James stumbled, Sirius lowered his hand, his eyes shining and, behind James, the flames flickered as did the lights as Sirius' magic threatened to come out, "How dare you think that of your own son, James? Well, I guess I should say your ex-son, but no matter: because tomorrow, Harry Black goes to Hogwarts and, as of right now, I don't consider you my friend or a Marauder. I don't know what happened on Halloween night to turn the James I knew into this…thing, but, as of right now, my friend, Prongs, is dead to me."
"Then I suppose you had better leave, Lord Black," James sneered, indicating the door, "Go back to your Death Eater relatives and your filthy Slytherin lifestyle; maybe now your dead mother will accept you as a Black. As for us: I'm glad I'm no longer a Marauder as it means that I don't have to pretend to put up with people like you hounding the limelight from Jason or holding me back in my plan for the Ministry. And rest assured, Sirius Black: if that no-better-than-a-squib bastard that you're more than welcome to call a son dares to cross my path again, the only place he'll see me is through the bars of Azkaban Prison. Now, I'm asking nicely, Lord Black: leave."
Sirius left, but, as he did so, he turned once and called out, "And you can take me off as your son's godfather as well: goodbye James Potter!"
FourHorsemen
The next morning, just as Harry was about to leave for King's Cross and his journey to Hogwarts, he was surprised when he opened the door to the orphanage and, instead of a taxi or a magical assist to King's Cross, he found the tight-lipped face of his other entrusted adult, Sirius Black, standing outside the door.
"Sirius?" asked Harry, pretending to feel ashamed or worried about what he'd done, "I know I should have asked, but…"
"It's okay, Harry," Sirius replied, before he surprised Harry as he embraced him in a warm hug, Harry actually allowing himself to feel shock and a sense of comfort with his honorary Father-figure. Letting go of Harry, Sirius then asked, "What would it mean to you if I actually gave you my name, pup? Made you a Black not just in name, but blood as well?"
"You mean because of James?" asked Harry, earning a nod from Sirius as he added, "I'd be honoured: you treated me more like a Father than he did so, if I became your son, then I'd be happy and I'd be proud to be the son of someone who doesn't see me as a burden or a black spot on the family."
"Then," Sirius remarked, taking Harry's arm and, picking up the cage that contained a rather beautiful-looking snowy owl, he added, "I'd better get started, Harry: do you also want to keep your old name?"
"I'll think about it," Harry answered, his voice shocked as he asked, "But…is it okay if I call you Sirius for now? Just…until I get used to the idea of having a…Father…again?"
"Whatever makes you feel comfortable, kiddo," Sirius remarked, twisting once as he Apparated with Harry to King's Cross station, the eyes of the young wizard widening as he saw Sirius' Apparition had taken them straight onto Platform Nine-And-Three-Quarters. As Sirius released Harry, he told him, "Also, as your Father, I want you to know that you can tell me anything, Harry and, if you don't want others to know about it, I won't tell them. I don't even care that my new son will be a Slytherin or some dark, brooding, almost-perfect pureblood's son that thinks he's a leader and others are made to follow him: okay, it would make you seem like that lecherous little shit that I used to call my godson, but I'd still be proud of you, okay?"
"Okay," Harry nodded, a part of him already trying to think of a way to come up with a means to tell his new Father the truth about his new self; would it be revealed in a Blood Adoption?
Would Sirius be changed by the power as Harry had been changed?
Time would tell, he supposed. And so, with help from Sirius, Harry made his way to the train where he found an empty compartment rather quickly; placing his things on the carry-rail overhead, Harry settled into his seat before he asked, "Is it okay if I come to…our new home for Christmas, Sirius?"
"I'd expect nothing less, Harry," Sirius answered, slightly saddened at the hesitant way that Harry had used his name; still, after nearly four years of isolation and solitude, it was to be expected that he had some issues with trust and change. "Also, if you do make any friends, especially any that could be related to my family, let me know and, in the case of other friends, feel free to invite them along, okay?"
"Sure," Harry nodded, before Sirius left him alone, the First Horseman easing into his seat as he let his head rest on the window, his eyes watching and waiting for any sign of triggers from his seal that the others were present. Then he could put a name to a face and, hopefully, start building his forces not only with the other Horsemen, but also, as his Father had said, with other members of the school that he could know and trust.
Just as Harry settled into an almost relaxed state of mind, he shot up just as suddenly as his seal began tingling, but it wasn't just tingling: in fact, it felt like the seal was literally vibrating against his spine, making his heart race and his eyes narrow in focused concentration…and with good reason. While the tingle was an alert to the presence of the others, it was also aggravatingly annoying and Harry had to try very hard not to aggravate his body with any form of relaxation: the tingling/vibrating would continue until the Four became One and their powers were revealed to one another.
Grinding his hands into his fists, Harry sat and waited…
FourHorsemen
As Neville Longbottom stepped onto the train, his heart suddenly gave a startled stop as though he suffered a sudden heart attack, though Neville knew the real reason: his seal was detecting the signs of the other three Horsemen, each of them clearly here with him on the platform or on the train.
"Neville?" asked Alice Longbottom, "Is everything all right?"
"Just…a bit of a shock," Neville explained, the lie easy to come up with as he was surprised that the others had been found so quickly and so easily, "It'll pass: give my love to Gran, won't you?"
"Make sure that you end up in the same house as Jason," Frank, his Father, advised him, "Potter's been waiting for the day when we can re-invoke our oath of brotherhood with his family."
"Don't worry, Father," Neville replied, heaving his trunk onto the train, "I'll keep an eye out…"
'And make sure that I don't end up anywhere near Jason bloody Potter,' he added in thought, before he began pulling his trunk down the train, the faces and wishes of his parents already forgotten. Neville knew that, by going against his parents' wishes, he was risking disowning, or worse, he was risking a blood feud-like trigger with House Potter. But he didn't care; Neville had figured out a long time ago that the First Horseman had to be someone with raw hatred and a desire for the deaths and souls of his enemies to fuel his own power.
Yes, he had figured out a long time ago that the First Horseman…was Jason's ex-brother – as he'd learned from his Father – Harry;
'I never said which Potter I'd follow,' he thought, before the stabs against his heart returned and, looking up, Neville felt like laughing when he saw that he was standing not only outside the same compartment as the First Horseman, but, there, standing in front of him, one massaging her stomach while the other remained still and smiling, were the other two Horsemen.
They had found one another…
FourHorsemen
KNOCK, KNOCK!
'And here was I thinking that it was the postman that knocked twice,' thought Harry, before he lifted his head and, with the vibrations on his spine intensifying, he gasped out, "Come in."
The door opened and Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry as he saw Neville Longbottom, the son of a House that had been allied with the Potters for seven generations, standing with two girls that he didn't recognise. One was a blonde-haired girl with enchanting, but cold blue eyes, who was already dressed in her Hogwarts robes, her eyes on Harry as she smiled at him.
The other girl, on the other hand, Harry didn't just find hard to recognise, but there was something about her that drew him in, his eyes locked onto hers, which were a deep shade of brown, as she looked at him, Harry then noticing that this girl and the Longbottom Heir were holding a part of their bodies. In the case of the girl, whose brown hair looked as wild as Harry's did as it flowed down to her shoulders, she was holding her stomach and, in Neville's case, he was holding his hand over his heart as though he was about to kneel before some sort of sovereign-like being.
Knowing what they could feel, Harry nodded to the other seats as he muttered, "Come and sit down: I think we have much to talk about."
Neville and the blonde girl sat opposite Harry while the brown-haired girl sat next to him, her eyes on Harry's as though she was trying to recognise him from somewhere; glancing to each of them in turn, Harry lifted his hand and pointed at the door to the compartment, a click sounding from the latch on the door. Lowering his hand, Harry explained, "Now I know who you are just as much as you know who I am, but that's our true selves: first things first, I need names. Now, I already know you, Neville Longbottom and I'm surprised to see you drawn here to me, but, as for our female companions, who are you?"
"Her…Hermione Granger," answered the brown-haired girl, her eyes on Harry as she then noticed his green eyes; if what she'd read about the wizarding world was true, there was only one child with those eyes.
"Luna Lovegood," added the blonde, her smile never leaving her face as she added, "And you have nothing to worry about with your new title, Harry Black; you'll choose a name that matches the spirit felt by each of us in due time."
"Thanks, Luna," Harry laughed, before he nodded to Hermione, "And yes, as she said, I am Harry Black, formerly known as Harry James Potter, the now ex-son of House Potter. Not a big loss, really; it's nice to meet you all."
He held out his hand, Neville's hand now joining his and, seconds later, the two girls put their hands over the boys' hands, each of them appearing to glow with a different coloured aura: Neville's was emerald-green, Luna was midnight-blue, Hermione was blood-red and Harry's aura was jet-black, the same four colours that each held on their seals.
As the auras intensified, Harry then felt a powerful energy stab through his crucifix, before a beam of black light shone through his chest, shooting into the centre where their four hands were linked. As this energy met the four hands, it was joined by a beam of emerald-green, midnight-blue and blood-red that seemed to fuse together perfectly, forming the image of the same crucifix held in the centre of the four seals.
Before any of the Horsemen could ask a question about what was going on here, the lights retracted into their bodies and all four slumped into their seats, their eyes closed as though they were merely sleeping.
However, while they were separated in bodily sense, their minds all went to the same place, each of the Four Horsemen sharing the same emotion as they were dragged into this realm of unconsciousness;
An emotion of unity, of brotherhood/sisterhood and an emotion of beginning…
It had begun…
FourHorsemen
Harry groaned in pain as consciousness returned to him, though he managed a second groan as he saw that they weren't on the train; instead, they were in the strange room where Harry had acquired his scythe, the moving walls now rippling and shifting constantly as each of the Horsemen rose from the floor.
"Where are we?" asked Hermione, Harry shaking his head in response before he looked to her.
"I think this is a realm of Hell," he answered, his voice calm as he explained, "I've been here before: when I became who I am: the First Rider: Death."
"And I am the Second Rider, Pestilence," Neville explained, Harry nodding in welcome and understanding for the mantle of his new partner in fate.
"Did you know that some don't consider that one of the Four?" asked Hermione, Harry chuckling as he sensed someone like him in her; a knowledge seeker who didn't need to be right all the time, per se, but they did show their knowledge.
"They don't?" asked Neville, glancing to Harry, who shrugged ruefully.
"No," Hermione explained, "According to the majority of references to…to what we've become, the Four are: Conquest, War, Famine and Death; Pestilence is just one reference from another belief."
"Doesn't change what's happened to us," Harry reasoned, looking to Hermione and Luna as he asked, "So, who are you exactly?"
"The Third Rider, Famine," Luna explained, Harry nodding with the same sense of understanding that he'd felt from Neville.
"The Fourth Rider, War," Hermione finished, Harry not only nodding, but actually feeling something; almost like a connection that told him that he and Hermione could have always been destined to be Horsemen. In a way, he could sense in her a similar experience and background to his own: with people trying to use and abuse her only to have their pain turned back on them. No wonder she became the Horseman of War.
"So why are we here?" asked Neville, Harry shaking his head in response, before a loud thunderous boom echoed around them, Harry now looking into the distant darkness where the boom had come from.
"Something's coming," he remarked, lifting his hand and, drawing on his magic, he summoned his scythe from the shadows, its dark energy and deathly power radiating through the room. At the same time, Luna revealed what looked like a powerful-looking wand while Neville and Hermione both looked a little embarrassed; taking a leap, Harry asked, "Let me guess: you haven't learned how to summon your items, yet?"
"I don't even know what mine is for," Hermione remarked, Harry now stepping past Luna to stand with Hermione, his scythe held tight in his hand as he looked into her eyes.
"Then stay by me," he told her, standing protectively in front of her, "Whatever's coming out of the darkness, we need to stand together: only then can we complete whatever bond has united us here."
'Strong words…Lord Death…'
The voice was deep and powerful and, as Harry looked into the darkness, his eyes widened when he heard the booming sounds almost overlap one another, their sounds coming through even clearer now as they were revealed to be less of a loud boom and more like…hoof-beats.
"Who's there?" asked Harry, lifting the blade of his scythe, "Show yourself!"
'As you wish,' the same powerful voice replied and, in response to Harry's command, there was a loud crash, which caused the ground beneath the feet of the Horsemen to tremble and collapse, though the four didn't fall. Instead, they were swept up by four mysterious figures, each of which held reins that wrapped around the hands of the Horsemen.
Glancing through his fear – as he had felt afraid when the floor had given way – Harry's eyes widened as he saw a beautiful, but dangerous-looking black horse with what appeared to be silvery-grey highlights along its head, legs and hooves, almost like the silver additions were armoured. The horse had eyes that were like the colour of a blood moon and, as Harry looked to its eyes, the horse turned its head and bowed its head to Harry.
Looking to the others, Harry saw that the other Horsemen were indeed riding horses, each one highlighted by an array of red, black or white armour; in Luna's case, as she was the one riding the black-armoured horse, her steed was pure white, though with its black additions, it looked more like a ghost in the night.
As Harry stared at the horses, he then noticed something else as he looked to Hermione's steed: the horses didn't have eyes of moonlight colours, their eyes were literally made of what looked like white – or black in Luna's case – flames that also protruded from their nostrils when they snorted and, when they moved back onto solid ground, Harry saw a trail of singed flame marks where the hooves had struck the ground, the area around the ground where they stood blackening as though caught in some great plague.
"Okay, I'm impressed," Harry whispered, looking to the flames that emerged from his own steed as he asked, "But…who…or what…are you?"
'We are the Four,' explained the powerful voice in Harry's mind, the First Horsemen then realising that the voice was coming from his own stallion, 'The steeds and bearers of the Horsemen and their powers; now that you have come together, you are able to release your true fury and power upon the realm of mortals. As for our names, I, Lord of Death, am Ragnarok; Lady War rides Damien; Lady Famine rides Delilah and Lord Conquest rides Alucard: we are now yours to command and shall cross from this Hell dimension to the mortal realm upon your summons.'
'So this is Ragnarok?' Harry wondered, before he heard a cough from Neville; understanding the meaning, Harry explained, "Neville's not Conquest, though, Ragnarok: his seal identifies him as the Rider of Pestilence, but according to Hermione, it all depends on your belief in our power; is that true?"
'It is, Death,' Ragnarok explained, Harry now glancing to Alucard, the black horse decorated with the white armour and white-flame eyes and breath, which made him look as intimidating as his name suggested. 'In the beginning, the Horseman of Pestilence became more powerful and gained the mantle of Conquest; however, in later times, his power regressed into the disease, which left the one known as the White Rider with a purpose of punishment and decision. You will notice the bow and arrows at his side?'
Harry looked, as did Neville: there was a bow attached to Alucard's side; a white bow that seemed to be made from the bones of some sort of creature and, as Neville picked up the bow, he gasped as a quiver of black arrows with different-coloured-flecked heads appeared over his shoulder, some of the arrows appearing to be as plain and ordinary as a normal arrow.
Nodding in response to Ragnarok's question, Harry listened as his steed explained, 'Those arrows are infused with the curses of death and disease, though the plain ones have the power to incapacitate and, in great cases, leave a target in a living-dead state; it is for this reason that the diseased dead of the mortal mages are under the command of Conquest.'
"Diseased dead?" asked Hermione, earning a shrug from the two male riders while Luna, glancing to Neville, filled in the blanks.
"They're called Inferi," she explained, her voice calm and almost eerie, as though she was in a trance, "Dead bodies resurrected by dark means, their souls bound to the one that summoned them: it is why Ragnarok refers to them as the diseased dead."
'Famine speaks the truth, Death,' a female voice explained, her tone as eerie and distant as Luna's had been; Harry took a guess that it was Delilah speaking to him. 'Each of the Horsemen command a horde of some sort or another; only War has the power to invoke demons and creatures of nightmare and shadow and bring those who think they defy you, my Lord Death, in your desire that the debt all men must pay has been paid.'
"The undead," Hermione added, having already been told a small amount about this when she had discovered her seal's power and the stone had been bonded to her. "Sounds…a little creepy."
'In due time,' another male voice, this one coming from Damien, told Hermione: Harry knew it was Damien from the way that the red-armoured horse turned its head to Hermione. 'You may see things differently, War; though Delilah speaks the truth: each of the Four have the power over one horde or another. Conquest with his diseased dead; Famine with her hordes of those that may survive what the Four bring to the mortal world and Lord Death with his spirits of dark and decay.'
"Does he always speak in riddles?" asked Neville, earning a snort from Damien as Neville glanced to Harry, "Spirits of death and decay: who do you suppose they are?"
"Ghosts?" suggested Harry, "Phantoms, zombies, wraiths, possessive spirits…who knows? It's early days yet, Neville: speaking of, what about the four of you? Will you be returning with us or…"
'We come when we are needed,' Alucard explained, his voice sounding as deep and powerful as Ragnarok's: it was then that Harry understood why Neville was known as the Horseman Conquest. 'Your powers summon us when we are needed and banish us when we are done, but, in the meantime, it falls to you, my Lords and Ladies, to learn more about your powers and, in due time, deal with the mortal threat that has required the summoning of the Horsemen in the first place.'
"Hell on Earth," Harry mused, earning a chuckle from Ragnarok before he asked, "So how do we get back?"
'That part's easy,' Ragnarok explained, before Harry and the other Horsemen gasped as blinding light overpowered their senses and, when they looked again, they found themselves back on the Hogwarts Express.
"Well," Harry mused, looking to the other three, each of whom were trying to recover from their experience in the land of shadows, "That was interesting."
The other Horsemen could only nod in agreement with their leader as the train, they noticed, began to slow down, the sky overhead now remarkably darker than when they'd met in the first place;
They had reached Hogwarts…
Chapter 2 and the Horsemen have met, consequences have been dealt and new allies have been introduced, but what sort of threat awaits the Horsemen at Hogwarts?
Also, can Harry and his circle master the power of the Horsemen or will they become more than mortal in the quest to bring Hell to Hogwarts?
Keep Reading to Find Out…
Next Chapter: A Sorting and a Family Reunion that doesn't last very long; also, Harry has a few choice words for his former brother and a warning that doesn't go down well with a certain big-headed Lord; and, to top it all off, the circle help Harry decide how his future will be affected and Harry chooses a new name;
Please Read and Review
AN: The images of the horses that each of the Horsemen ride was actually inspired by two demon-horse images: Carter Slade's horse from Ghost Rider and Jericho Cross' horse from the game Darkwatch; all copyright to the original creators;
ALSO: I KNOW that the Four are listed as Conquest, War, Famine and Death, but thankfully, I think I found a way to work that into the story…with a little help from Wikipedia ;-)