Disclaimer:

I don't own anything related to the rights of Harry Potter or Warcraft.

Author's Note:

The poll for Harry's relationship status is still up on my profile if you haven't voted yet. Some of the readers have expressed confusion and concerns about how some characters act in this story, such as Arko'narin being emotionally unbalanced. I decided it would be best to tip my hand a bit, and at the same time see if I could flesh out some of the characters a bit.

Oh, and if your going to bash me and/or my story, at least have the stones to NOT hide behind an anonymous review. Honestly, if you can't own up to your own opinion, what makes you think I'm going to take you seriously?

And on that note: To Zikarn Krais, while I do not agree with some of your points, you have quite a bit of my respect for not hiding who you are when you voiced your opinion. Hopefully this chapter will ease some of your concerns about me 'angling for it'. To be honest I really haven't been trying one way or another, I've spent more time setting some things up for the future than any real planning on Harry's relationship status.

(Mar. 18th, 2013) - Minor revisions.

(Aug. 20th, 2013) - Reworked and tweaked.

No beta, so all mistakes are my own.

Publish Date: Feb. 23rd, 2013

Update Date: Aug. 20th, 2013


Chapter Seven

Intentions and Destruction

Ysera's body was sitting at the table in the inn while her mind was traveling through the Emerald Dream to speak with Alexstrasza and the other Aspects about the new arrival. He was a strange individual, and she could not get a proper read on him, and after so long of being able to do so with anyone she met, she found her inability disconcerting. She finally got in touch with Alexstrasza and Kalecgos, but Nozdormu was refusing to join in the conversation for some reason. Maybe because his consciousness was currently traveling the time stream to see what changes Harry's arrival was causing.

"So what did you find out about the new arrival?" Alexstrasza asked immediately, cutting out any chance at small talk.

"Yes, I am most curious about his magic, I have not felt such power in a very long time," Kalecgos added.

Ysera gathered her thoughts and said, "His name is Harry Potter. He is a strange individual, he seems honorable, but my inability to see his dreams makes me wary. I did find out why none of us could get a proper read on him. Apparently Death shields him and his mind from such things."

Alexstrasza growled and spit out, "So he is one of Deathwing's followers."

Ysera shook her head and replied, "I do not believe so. We have all felt the corruption surrounding Deathwing and his followers, and while there is a powerful presence surrounding Harry, it is a pure and primal force, it held none of the corruption we have come to associate with Deathwing. I believe it is truly Death that guards him. He says he holds the title of Master of Death, but he gave no real information on what that means other than his body does not age and does not stay dead after being killed."

"Then we burn his body to ash. There will be no coming back from that, I will not allow it." Alexstrasza ground out, finding the very thought of someone who did not follow the cycle to be an abomination.

There was a sudden snort of amusement from behind her, causing her to spin to find the source. The new arrival was an extremely attractive woman in a shimmering black dress that hinted heavily at the wonderful things underneath without ever being considered trashy or whorish. Her black hair matched her dress and her ruby lips were twisted into a cold smile, but her eyes were what drew the attention of the Aspects. They were completely black, a never-ending abyss that sucked at your very soul, an immeasurable void that made them all feel so very small.

Her voice was cold and melodious, echoing and reverberating throughout the dream and freezing them to the bone. "Go ahead and try it little lizard, I will simply remake his body and there is not a damn thing you can do about it. The only thing you will accomplish with such an action is pissing off both myself and my Master."

"I am not a lizard, whelp," Alexstrasza hissed out, beginning to summon up her power to force this new arrival into her place.

Kalecgos, however, looked at the new arrival with curiosity. It was rare for one that wasn't a druid to truly enter the dream, but it was another matter entirely to simply drop in on a conversation between the Aspects like this one without Ysera's direct intervention. "Alexstrasza, calm down. I can feel her power and she isn't even trying to show off, I do not think it would be wise to test her at the moment. Let's find out what she is doing here first."

The new arrival's cold smile grew wider as she said tauntingly, "Yes, listen to the wise one, little lizard. Your full power is simply a fragment of my own." At this, the new arrival flared some of her power out, the sheer force of it caused all three of the Aspects to back up a step in shock. The new arrival pulled back on her display and said in a bored tone, "Now that we have the obligatory pissing contest out of the way, we have much to discuss. Oh, and by the way, I am Death." She suddenly grew very serious and stated coldly, "And if you liken me to that filthy thing that calls himself my Aspect one more time, I will shatter you, do you understand?" The three Aspects nodded slowly, suddenly aware that they weren't the most powerful things present anymore, a truly humbling experience to say the least. Death nodded once in reply and stated, "Good. Now, let's begin."


Sylvanas was sitting at the desk in the inn, reading over the letter from Harry again and again. In the time since agreeing to meet him and now, she had regained her bearings. The initial meeting with Death and Harry's subsequent letter had thrown her off-kilter so badly, she felt ashamed of how weak she had acted at the time. As soon as she had regained some semblance of control, she had done as much searching as possible for anything that might give her some leverage over him. She had found absolutely nothing, not a scrap, hint, rumor or even myth related to the name Harry Potter or his title, The Master of Death. The only thing she could figure was that he was from a different world, much like the Draenei, but that was simply a guess at this point.

She detested being backed into a corner like this. She could refuse his offer, but over the years quite a few of her people had voiced the desire to become one of the living again, and if she was completely honest with herself, she found the thought quite appealing as well. And then there was the fact that he was going to hunt down and kill Arthas, something she had desired with every fiber of her being for a very long time. But being forced to follow someone else was something her pride simply wouldn't stand for.

Then again, what had her pride truly gained her?

She was the leader of a people no one really trusted, with a fate awaiting her that she was terrified of. Then there were the desires of her people to consider. Could she let her pride rob them of something they wanted more than just about anything else? Would they really allow her to continue leading them if she lost the Forsaken the chance to become truly living again? Or would they turn on her and tear her to pieces?

But could she follow someone she had no knowledge of? For all she knew, he could be worse than Arthas ever was. Was she really willing to risk putting her people in the hands of someone like that?

Sylvanas sighed heavily, coming to a decision. She'd swallow her pride for now, no matter how bitter it was. She would pretend to follow like a good little girl for the time being, keep quiet and keep her eyes open for anything that could turn this in her favor. Everyone had something that could be used against them, she just had to be patient and figure out what that was.


Thrall, Vol'jin, Lor'themar and Baine were discussing the upcoming meeting, specifically their thoughts on this rather mysterious human. They all still vividly remembered the effect he had on Sylvanas, even if she had been more herself since then. Anyone who could cause her to lose the mask she always wore was someone to be cautious with. Sylvanas had only given them the basics of what he wanted from them, and to be honest, they weren't sure it was worth it. After the utter loss at the battle of Wrathgate, the four of them were wary of trusting anyone but the Horde to deal with things, minus the Forsaken. Even after finding out that the traitors were a rogue faction, they were still a bit hesitant to trust Sylvanas or her people without someone there to oversee things.

So far, the only thing they had truly decided on was to be cautious with him, and see how things went. If they decided to help, and that was a big 'if', they were going to get as much as they possibly could out of the arrangement. He was just a human and outnumbered after all, they were sure they could deal with him if it became absolutely necessary.


Alurmi sighed and shifted again, lying on the roof of the inn. Her mind simply wouldn't stop running and let her sleep. Nozdormu had ordered her to keep an eye on the new arrival, he seemed to believe he was an enemy, maybe an agent of the Infinite Dragonflight. Nozdormu even went so far as to order her to kill him if necessary, but according to what she had heard earlier, he wouldn't stay dead, so how exactly was she supposed to follow that particular order? Did she even want to? He was so nice to her, how could she do such a thing to him? And would an agent of the Infinite really try to help Azeroth? How could the end of Kil'jaeden and the Lich King be anything but good?

Nozdormu had been acting strangely as of late, more paranoid, and with a much shorter temper. Making demands with no explanation as to why. He used to say why he gave a particular order, but now he just demanded practically blind obedience, and that bothered her.

Harry on the other hand, didn't make any demands of her. He actually asked her what she wanted. He had been nothing but kind to her, even when he thought she was just another whelp. He asked if she wanted to come along, instead of just picking her up and taking her. He didn't have to carry her around like he did, but he did it anyway because he seemed to know she enjoyed it.

But going against what she had been ordered to do... Could she really do that? Cut ties with the Bronze Dragonflight completely for the sake of Harry? Not for the first time she wished she were older, more in tune with the time stream, so she could maybe get a glimpse of the future possibilities.

She had the feeling that her loyalties would be heavily tested, and far sooner than she was ready for. And she wasn't absolutely sure where she would stand when it happened, and that worried her more than she cared to admit.


Jessir and Shandris were sitting on the steps in front of the inn, looking up at the moon, both thinking their own thoughts. The silence was comfortable, and the air was crisp with a pleasant soft breeze. It was a clear, calm night, something that was rare in recent days.

Jessir was worried about her student's sudden possessiveness of Harry. She had always seems quite independent, and to see her practically attached to someone as if her life depended on it was quite disconcerting to say the least, not to mention her rather sudden mood swings. She doubted it was something Harry had done to her, but she wasn't sure enough to ask him about it. She felt like she was gambling with her student's life though, and it bothered her. She was going to keep a closer eye on them both, and hopefully figure out what was going on.

Shandris was thinking more on Harry than anything else. He was a rather intriguing puzzle, one she wanted to solve. Despite all the information he freely gave earlier, she felt there was much more he was holding back. He says he comes from another world, and with the evidence she had so far it was not difficult to believe. He says he came through a portal, but not any technical information about it, where it was, if he could do it again, and nothing about why he left his world to begin with. He carried himself as a warrior, a general, but says nothing about how or why he fought. Was it vengeance? Justice? Simply because he could? Or because no one else would? Why did he and his relatives not get along? The Master of Death title... She had no real information on that other than he wouldn't stay dead and that his mind is shielded from even the Aspects, which is a worrying prospect in and of itself. He said he came here for a quiet life, but he really didn't seem like one who would be satisfied with such a thing for very long. If everything went wrong and there were innocent lives on the line, what kind of man would Harry prove to be?

She, for one, wanted to find out before someone's life depended on it.


Arko'narin was sitting outside, hidden from view, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. She was rocking back and forth and sobbing silently, eyes squeezed shut, trying as hard as she could to block everything out. The incessant whispering in the back of her mind was trying to drive her insane! Sometimes there was enough going on that she could almost pretend it wasn't there at all, but when things were quiet and calm, it was all she could do to ignore it. The only time it really faded away for a while was when she was as close as she could get to Harry. She didn't know why, but when she was in his arms, the whispering just disappeared.

Need him! Need him to help!

She was terrified that he would leave one day, leave her alone with this annoying, persistent, deplorable whispering. Considering what it was trying to convince her to do, she was scared that if she was left alone with it long enough, its suggestions might seem like a good idea. The whispering seemed to bounce between absolutely insane and horribly logical.

She knew she needed help. She would ask Jessir first. She was her mentor, she might have some idea about what was going on. Tomorrow, after the meeting, she'd pull Jessir off to the side and talk to her.

Bad idea! Banished and betrayed you'll be!

With that decision, Arko'narin stood, wiped the tears from her eyes and went to find Harry. Maybe she could get some peace and quiet from the whispering long enough to get some sleep.


The man on everyone's mind was currently lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Alurmi, in her whelp form, had flown in through the window a few minutes ago from wherever she had been and was lying on the pillow near his head. Something was nagging at the corner of his mind, but he couldn't seem to focus on it. It was the same feeling he had whenever something was off, but he didn't know what. He figured it would come to him eventually, but until then, he had work to do. He had a meeting in the morning with a group of people that seemed to hold a grudge against humans in general, and he knew he was going to have to tread carefully.

He hated politics. Reason number four for leaving his world.

Harry heard the door open and he turned his head, quickly spotting Arko'narin come in and quickly shut the door behind her with a soft click. She walked over to the bed Harry was lying on and crawled in with him, slinging an arm and leg over him and pressing herself to his side with a sigh. He just rolled his eyes and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, before slowly drifting off to sleep.


Harry woke early the next morning, having just finished a short conversation with Death. He stretched and carefully extracted himself from being nearly under Arko'narin. He got ready for the day and put on his armor, having the suspicion that he was going to need it sooner rather than later, and didn't want to waste time changing if that was the case. Once he was dressed, he walked quietly over to the sleeping figures on the bed and shook them gently awake. Arko'narin woke quickly and looked around in a panic before her eyes landed on Harry and she relaxed. Alurmi opened one bleary eye and grumbled, but hopped up into Harry's arms and let him carry her out of the room, followed closely by Arko'narin.

They sat at the table in the center of the inn, joined shortly by Shandris and Jessir. There wasn't much talking, as they had already made their displeasure at meeting the leaders of the Horde known. Harry had convinced them that it was necessary, but they still didn't like it, and by the expression on their faces, they still thought that way.

It wasn't long before Ysera joined them at the table, a bit pale and slightly distracted. Harry almost asked her what was wrong, but decided it was none of his business. If it concerned him, he had no doubt that she would have brought it up.

Harry heard a slight commotion coming from outside, and figured the others had just arrived. He figured he should make as big an impression as he could. Considering how young he looked, any advantage he could get, he would take. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, everyone was startled slightly at the endless black they had become. He loosened his hold on his aura slightly, not enough for it to be visible, but enough that he could let it all out quickly if need be, and waited for the leaders of the Horde to make their appearance.

It took quite a bit of control to not react in surprise at the first two to walk in. While he had seen a few Tauren before, this one was much larger, and very well armored. He had dark brown fur covering his body and sharp black horns curving forward from his skull. He carried a rather large flanged two-handed mace that looked like well taken care of, despite the nicks and scratches on its edges. His eyes however, were calm and wise, something Harry was glad of. The person walking next to him was tall with blue skin, with only three fingers and toes, large ears that stood up and a bright red mohawk on top of his head and a goatee twisted into three braids on his chin. He had two large tusks protruding down from his mouth, and a number of scars on his face, arms and torso. He didn't wear much in the way of armor, but the bow he carried looked positively wicked.

The two moved apart slightly to make room for a third, a large, green-skinned person. He had a robe or something similar on, with an open front at the top and large red beads around his neck, with two dark red braids coming out from under his hood. He had a satchel slung over one shoulder and a large hammer on his hip, his obvious weapon of choice. Upon seeing Harry, he stiffened slightly, but kept walking forward.

The two that walked in behind the trio and took up the flanks were of obvious elven decent, the male had long white hair, part in a topknot and the rest flowing freely down his shoulders. His armor was red and black, trimmed in gold, fit for a king, and Harry almost laughed as he realized he was completely decked out in Gryffindor colors. The greatsword and bow on his back were well made, and one of his green eyes was covered with a red eye-patch.

The moment he laid eyes on the female, he almost lost it. He had a sudden flash of Voldemort, she had the same pale, almost snake-like skin and the same glowing crimson eyes that had haunted his nightmares for years. He forced himself to calm quickly and took in the rest of her appearance. With her hood up, he could barely make out her features. She had full, dark red lips and pale hair that looked slightly brittle, her deep violet cloak was tattered and torn, and her skull-adorned armor hugged her body and exposed a flat, toned stomach. She wore a sword on her hip and carried a dark, vicious looking bow that was well cared for and heavily used. Other than her similarity to Voldemort and the fact that she was dead, she was actually quite attractive, and that thought almost made him visibly shudder a bit. He stood there silently, and waited for them to approach the table.

Sylvanas, for her part, was startled when she saw him and surprised at the sudden and intense rage that flashed across the man's face the moment he saw her, but it was gone almost before she could even register it, replaced with an expressionless mask that almost rivaled her own. His eyes, however, left no room to doubt exactly who he was. This was Harry Potter, The Master of Death. His eyes were pitch black, and endless chasm that seemed to pull her in and drown her. She took in the rest of his appearance, the messy black hair, smooth features, and obviously well toned under his armor. Deep down, in a part of her mind she had believed she had buried, she thought he was a bit handsome, which just made her more wary of him. She had thought Arthas was handsome once upon a time as well, and that didn't end well for anyone.

"Please, have a seat," He said, motioning to the empty chairs at the table. He started pointing to the others around the table, making introductions. "This is Arko'narin Ravenstar, Next to her is Jessir Moonbow, on my left is Shandris Feathermoon, and next to her is Ysera, who I believe will be mediating this meeting and ensuring none of us get out of hand, and the little one here is Alurmi."

Once everyone was seated and comfortable, Harry blinked and his eyes faded from black to his normal bright emerald green. He dove into the conversation head-first, deciding on the fly to use similar tactics the Goblins of his world used. "I'm assuming we all know what my exact task is, correct?" At everyone's nod, he continued. "It's a big job, and I'm going to need help from every race on Azeroth. What is it you all want in exchange for said assistance?"

Baine's eyes widened at the bluntness of the statement, and Thrall chucked and said, "That was rather forward. But why should we help at all? The Alliance has done little to make us think that working together will end in anything but disaster."

Harry sighed and sat back. From what he had been told, it would actually be a feat to get them to work together in any form. But he did have an idea. It would work in theory, but the practical application might need some fine-tuning. "I do have an idea on that. It might take some minor adjustments, but how about this. If you decide to help me, appoint one person to lead each race's troops, and they will be the only ones other than myself who can give orders to their group. One Orc to lead the Orc troops, one Tauren to lead the Tauren troops, one Troll to lead the Troll troops, et cetera. They'll be the ones that report to me, and the Alliance side will be structured the same. That way there isn't really any major interaction between the factions other than during battles. And anyone that is willing to be in a mixed group with other races and opposing factions I'll take command of."

Lor'themar leaned forward and said, "It sounds good in theory, but how do we know you won't favor the Alliance over us? You are a Human after all."

Harry snorted in amusement and replied, "I have no ties whatsoever to the Humans or the Alliance. But, in the interest of fairness, I need the help of the dragons as well." Harry turned to Ysera and asked, "Would the Aspects be willing to appoint someone to act as a mediator to keep things fair?"

Ysera thought for a moment before saying, "I believe so. I would have to speak to the others first, however. And I do not know how long it would take to decide on someone."

Harry nodded and looked over at the Blood Elf leader. "Is that acceptable? That way no one faction is favored over another, and a neutral party keeps an eye out for everyone's interests."

The Horde leaders looked at each other for a moment before Thrall said, "I believe that would be acceptable."

Harry nodded once and responded, "I guess that brings me back to my original question. What is it you all want in exchange for assisting me in this task?"

Thrall frowned and said, "Our immediate problem is Garrosh Hellscream, the current Warchief of the Horde. I made the mistake of appointing him when I stepped down to investigate Deathwing's return and see what I could do to fix the damage he caused to Azeroth when he made his presence known. I know now it was a mistake on my part, I believed his blood lust had abated, but he is leading the Horde to ruin in his quest for power and glory, committing mass murder and mindless genocide." Thrall shook his head and continued, "And now that he is leading the Horde, he will refuse to step down, even for me. He will hold the title until he is dead."

Harry sighed and responded, "I take it just killing him and retaking your place is completely out of the question. Is there any precedence for taking control from a current Warchief without causing a riot?"

"I could challenge him to an Honor Duel, but it is a great risk. If I were to lose, then not only would I die, but it would cement his place as the leader of the Horde, and make removing him that much more difficult," Thrall replied.

"He also cheats. He poisoned my father in such a duel," Baine added.

Harry looked over to Thrall and asked, "If a demon killed him, would it make it easier on you to re-assume control of the Horde?"

Thrall nodded and said, "Most likely. The problem with that is a normal demon would not be much of a problem for Garrosh and his Honor Guard. We also have no way of luring both sides to each other and ensuring the result we need to happen."

Harry sat there, rapidly running through scenarios in his mind. He finally hit upon one that could work. "Well, I may have an idea," He began hesitantly. "I remember doing a similar job a while back. If we can lure Hellscream out somewhere secluded, with only a relatively small number of guards, I could use a glamor to look like a demon, and kill him there. Then I cause some havoc, retreat, and the guards can honestly report his death was caused by a demon. It only really puts myself at risk, and will allow you to retake your place as Warchief, all while blaming a faction I think we both want destroyed anyway. You can rally your people under your leadership to strike back at the demons for the act, and it makes it more plausible for you to assist me in my task later."

Vol'jin, who had been silently watching how things played out, decided to speak up. "It be a good plan bruda, and none of us be at risk wit it."

Thrall opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a loud explosion, followed by shouts and the clashing of steel against steel.


Outside the inn, the Guardians were outnumbered by a group of purple armored people and both fire and earth elementals. Harry immediately drew his wand and started firing at the ones attacking the Guardians. He noticed the leaders of the Horde wading into battle, so Harry summoned his sword, and followed.

"Who are these people?" Harry asked, banishing a fire elemental into a group of purple clad casters, causing them to scream as they were set of fire.

Thrall swung his hammer with one hand and cast a lightning bolt with the other as he replied, "Twilight Cultists, followers of Deathwing. They desire only one thing, the utter destruction of Azeroth."

Harry frowned at that and started attacking more viciously than before. Any group that wanted to destroy an entire world was getting no sympathy from him whatsoever. Harry turned to say something to Thrall and noticed a Cultist raising his blade and preparing to plunge it into the former Warchief's back. Harry shot off a spell over the Shaman's shoulder, causing the foe's head to explode in a shower of gore. Thrall looked behind him and immediately put together what almost happened, and nodded at Harry in thanks.

The group battled valiantly for what felt like hours, but they were slowly pushed back further and further. Harry was standing beside Shandris when he heard her speak to him over the noise of battle. "We're going to be overrun!" Shandris exclaimed. "Is there anything you can do to end this?" She asked Harry, who was standing next to her firing spells into the crowd of Twilight followers.

Harry hesitated for a moment, before he looked at her, a severe expression on his face, and said, "Buy me some time. When I tell you to, get everyone inside immediately." He then popped away, leaving Shandris cursing and confused at his sudden disappearance.


Harry appeared inside the inn, and used his wand to find the exact center of the building. As soon as he did, he blasted a hole in the floor, causing some protests from the people inside. He ignored it, and dug through his bag for a trunk. He found the one he was looking for, dropped it on the ground, enlarged it, and pulled out a rune stone, the same kind used to place protections on houses. He used the Elder Wand to start carving into it, placing only a few runes, just enough for what he needed it to do. He set the stone inside the newly made hole, cut his hand to spill enough fresh blood on it to charge it for a bit, and waited to make sure it was starting to work. As soon as he was sure enough, he covered the hole and apparated back outside.


Five minutes after Harry had left her, a shimmering blue transparent shield went up around the inn. She noticed the Guardians could pass through, but the Twilight minions crashed against it like a wave. Harry popped in next to her and said, "It will only hold for a little bit, I wasn't able to put much power into it with what I'm about to do. Get everyone inside. It's about to get hot out here." He turned to pop away again, but stopped and looked back at her, saying, "Oh, and I'm sorry for burning down part of your forest," before popping away.

Shandris was confused at that statement, but called out, "Everyone, fall back to the inn! Everyone inside now!" She stood outside the doors as the Guardians rushed inside, trusting Shandris' experience. She noticed a few people standing out with her, Alurmi, Arko'narin, Thrall, Sylvanas, and Ysera most notably.


Harry apparated off to the side of the enemy forces, about thirty feet away on their flank. He raised the Elder Wand into the air and let of an overpowered noisemaker charm, causing many to turn to look for the sudden loud noise. He took a deep breath and steeled himself, reinforcing his occlumency barriers. He knew he'd need every ounce of control he had for this to not backfire and kill him. Harry pointed his wand at the mob, and hissed out a spell he never thought he'd ever use.

"Fiendfyre."


The few people left outside the inn saw Harry appear of to the side of the Twilight Cultists and draw their attention with a loud noise similar to a cannon going off. The mob turned toward him, and he pointed his wand at the mass and said something.

At first they thought he did nothing, but then there was a spark, then a small flame, and with a roaring, billowing whoosh, the small flame grew and grew and blazed toward the cultists outside the shield. The fire was white-hot, hotter than even a full-grown wyrm could produce. They could all feel the intense heat from where they were, and they saw the now immense flame take the shape of dragons and serpents and birds of prey and a multitude of creatures they had never seen before, rising and falling under each other in a crashing wave of scorching death. The flames roared and chased after the fleeing Twilight minions, entire gouts splitting off from the main inferno to chase down stragglers and those that ran in a separate direction from the main group. The screams of pain and terror echoed in the valley under Nordrassil, drawing spectators from inside to stare in awe at the raw display of absolute destructive power.

"By Elune," Shandris heard someone mutter. She had nothing else to add, because honestly, what else is there to say in the face of such primal fury?


In a short few minutes, the screams had died out to nothing, and with a twirl and a sharp flick of his wand, Harry forced the cursed flame to dissipate. The fire died off quicker than any normal flame would have, and when he was sure it was all gone, Harry dropped his arm to his side and simply stared at the destruction he had just caused.

Entire trees had been scorched black, massive patches of earth had melted and turned to glass, the stone path outside the shield leading to the inn had become a river of molten rock, and there wasn't a trace of the Twilight forces left behind, not even ash indicating they had been burned alive. He let out a heavy sigh and began walking back towards the building. The people standing outside moved out of his way as he approached, whispering to each other as he passed.

Harry stopped next to Thrall and asked, "I know we still have much to discuss, but do you mind putting it off until tomorrow? I don't know about you, but I could use some rest after that."

Thrall looked down and saw how tired Harry looked and nodded. He could use some rest himself. "We shall speak later," he said simply.

Harry nodded tiredly and walked into his room in the inn, fell onto the bed, and was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.