Chapter 19 - Conference
It's probably a good thing that the only audience there to greet Harry on the shores of the Black Lake are Dumbledore, Vulko, and the group he arrived at Hogwarts with. He's meant to be exuding an image of Princely strength—not exactly easy to accomplish while having to explain why he's basically throwing himself into the arms of an old, white haired man while on the verge of tears.
"You're alive!" Harry's shouting as he wraps his arms around the white haired elder, not even considering Vulko might still be sore—logic flying out the window as a result of his utter relief. On Harry's shoulder, Egg lets out a screech and is forced to clamber up Harry's neck to sit on his head before Vulko's arm knocks him off. Harry gets a pang of Egg's annoyance through the bond, but he can't bring himself to care. Vulko is here, alive, and well.
Vulko laughs, a deep and merry sound, hugging Harry back as tight as his old bones will allow. "You did it, my Prince," he says softly, only loud enough for Harry to hear, but his voice is loaded with pride. "Now all of Atlantis can see what I saw in you from the beginning."
Harry pulls back, heart swelling from the look Vulko is giving him, his hand still rested on Harry's shoulder. Vulko's eyes are wet with his own tears, and his gaze cuts straight into Harry's own like he's trying to force the idea of how proud he is straight into Harry's mind. It only lasts a moment, though, before his gaze lifts up ever so slightly to settle on the Leviathan resting on Harry's head, his blue scaled tail curled loose around his neck.
"When the magisters told me you had bonded to a Leviathan, I could scarcely believe it," Vulko says with a heavy breath. "You must be Aegeus."
Egg lets out a sort of rumbling purr from deep in his throat and jumps from Harry's head to Vulko's shoulder. No doubt he can feel Harry's joy through the bond, so right now Vulko is probably just about his favorite person next to Harry. Vulko doesn't even so much as stumble as Egg lands on him, letting out a chuckle as he reaches up to pet the Leviathan. Egg preens under the attention, stretching out his neck further so Vulko can scratch him deeper.
"Atlantis must be every bit as wondrous as I imagined if it houses creatures as beautiful as this one," Dumbledore says, staring at Egg with what can only be described as awe. It must be an unusual feeling for the old headmaster. In his line of work he's usually the source of the strange and magical considering all the muggle-born first years. But even compared to the dragons that Dumbledore would have seen in his lifetime, there's nothing so magical as Aegeus on the surface. He's right to be awed.
"Good to see you well, old man," Tula says, Garth and herself coming up behind Harry to greet Vulko. "We should have known you would be too stubborn to go anywherewithout finishing Harry's lessons. Gods below, imagine if he had to go without homework!" Tula raises a hand to her chest and feigns a scandalized look.
Despite her jesting, Harry turns in time to see her and Garth get down on one knee and give him the standard Atlantean salute, one arm across their breast and head dipped nearly to the point of their chin touching their chest. It's actually a little surprising to see Tula make such a formal move. Garth, absolutely—formal behavior towards superior stations practically oozes out the pores of his skin—but Tula is usually more casual, reserving her salutes for much more serious occasions. It's Vulko she's doing it for. He commands great respect in all circles of Atlantean life, military included. Few people in Poseidonis have led a life of such singular service to the Kingdom. He's more than earned their admiration.
"Lord Vulko," Garth says, still kneeling. "I am glad to see you well."
Vulko bows slightly and throws an arm diagonally across his chest until his hand rests near his opposite shoulder. The gesture was slightly diminished by Egg, still rumbling with purrs, rubbing his nose against Vulko's ear. "I might be old, but I've still got some fight left in me!" he chuckles. "Orm Marius isn't enough to put an old fish like me out of commission!"
It's nice to hear, but it's definitely false bravado which is made abundantly clear by the memories Harry has of the cave before the Battle of Gotham. Vulko had been on the cusp of death. It was only the careful magic of the healing Magisters at the Silent School that was able to save him. Even with that, things had been dicier than anyone would have liked. Vulko's survival is nothing short of miraculous.
"Is there—are you sure you're well enough to be here? When we left Atlantis this morning your condition was still uncertain…" Harry asks quietly. As reassuring as it feels to have Vulko here— presumably to help him with the wizarding media and whoever else he might have to answer to—Harry would refuse the assistance if Vulko is still weak and being here would be a potential risk to his already compromised health.
Vulko's hand rises from his side to rest on the scaled armor over his abdomen where Harry knows Orm's weapon had pierced. It seems almost an involuntary movement, and his eyes become glassy like he's suddenly lost in thought. He snaps himself to attention after a moment.
"Don't you worry about me now. I had enough of that from your father. I have a duty to assist the crown, and I mean to do so," Vulko says sternly, his face morphing into a frustrated but determined frown. "I'm not letting that upstart Orm get in the way of performing the role I've held for the last fifty years!"
Gruff confidence or no, Vulko's words aren't exactly a sparkling review of his great health. Truth be told, now that Harry thinks about it, he looks pale and a little unsteady. The observation leaves him feeling a little guilty and worried he might have hurt Vulko earlier. He did not at all appear ready to have taken a journey alone across the seas to take up what could easily become very taxing work. Even not having to do anything particularly physically taxing, revealing Atlantis to the wizarding world isn't likely to be an easy task.
"You should be resting," Harry chastises. "I appreciate that you wanted to be here, but—"
Vulko cuts him off with a huff and a wave of his hand. "Prince Harry, I have been preparing for the day when we finally reveal Atlantis to the surface since I was the vizier for your grandmother. I will not sit idly by while this momentous step in our history passes me by," he says, leaving no room for argument. "It is kind that you are worried for my health, but there will be time for rest later."
"Like I said, stubborn," Tula lets out a single laugh. From her, it sounds like a compliment rather than any sort of admonishment of his character.
The determined glint in Vulko's eye tells Harry that it's an argument he's destined to lose. The man could still have Orm's scepter sticking out of his stomach, and he would still be here ready to do his part. Admirable, but worrying and definitely guilt inducing. An added stressor on a day that needs no additional excuses to cause anxiety. Feeling his worry, Egg croons and looks at Harry, but he doesn't move from his position as if he, too, is worried about Vulko. In response, Vulko reaches up to pat Egg on the head. The action does little to soothe both of them, but it does somehow convey the fact that Vulko had made up his mind and would not be moved.
Harry finally nods, swallowing down a sigh. "Just… take it easy, okay? Don't think I won't order you to rest if it comes to that." Harry does his best to fill his voice with authority and strength, to be firm and unwavering, the way that Vulko himself had taught him to do.
Vulko smirks and gives a small shake of his head. "You know, I thought I'd feel a sense of pride about you becoming more comfortable with your royal authority," he says, acting as if he doesn't feel proud. "I didn't anticipate that it might be used on myself so soon."
Harry shrugs but smiles back. "Blame my teacher. He made sure I know that my duty is to my people—royal advisor included."
Before Vulko can answer, Harry takes note of Ron and Hermione whispering to each other as they slowly approach. "Did Harry say royal advisor? You think that's who he is?" Ron whispers in her ear.
Harry beckons them over. "Guys, this is Lord Vulko, the royal vizier to the throne of Atlantis—yes, that's like an advisor," he says.
Ron and Hermione share a brief glance. Ron throws his hands in the air in defeat. "Your super-hearing thing is going to take some getting used to."
Harry ignores the comment, instead turning to Vulko. "Vulko, these are—"
"Oh, no introductions necessary here," Vulko says, gently pushing Harry out of the way to stand before Ron and Hermione himself. "This must be young Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. Harry has told me all about you, of course. It is a genuine pleasure to meet such good and loyal friends of the Prince." Vulko bows only slightly so as not to send Egg hurtling off his shoulder.
Once again both Ron and Hermione look completely bewildered, probably wondering about what action to take. Harry can understand that feeling more than anyone. Like he had been in the beginning, they're no doubt trying to decide on whether they should bow in return or possibly just thank Vulko or any number of other actions. It's hard to know what action to take when conversing with people of a culture you know next to nothing about after all.
Fortunately, they're saved from any potential awkwardness by Professor Dumbledore. "I don't mean to intrude on your introductions," he says, "but we have much to discuss and only limited time. I've already received several requests from media representatives and half of the Wizengamot requesting permission to come to Hogwarts to meet you, Harry."
Dumbledore's interruption is enough to have reality crashing down on him once again. Half of the Wizengamot? So many people who would barely have thought twice about meeting Harry before, even as the boy-who-lived, are now going to travel across the country in the hopes of seeing him. Even if he'd been expecting it deep down, it's not an easy thing to accept.
"Right you are, Professor Dumbledore," Vulko agrees, answering Harry's unasked question about whether the two elders had introduced themselves before they had arrived. "We should find somewhere we can speak more privately."
"Four years, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall is waiting in Dumbledore's office to admonish him as soon as he arrives. "In four years, you've never once started a term at Hogwarts without being the topic of conversation." She peers over her glasses at him and raises her eyebrow as if this were his fault.
Harry shrugs and lets out a nervous laugh, feeling like a first year in detention. "I swear, Professor, I'm not doing it on purpose…"
The stern head of Gryffindor raises a single eyebrow. "Oh? I seem to remember an incident with a certain flying car?"
Harry opens his mouth in an attempted retort but quickly snaps it shut again. It's not exactly easy to defend that particular action, especially to the woman who had been the one to punish him for it. A smile flits across her stern face. "Welcome back to Hogwarts, Prince Harry," she says, losing her usual critical tone in place of one more comforting and warm. "I want you to know that I will help you through this media farce in any way that I can."
Harry doesn't get the chance to answer, even to thank her. Professor McGonagall isn't even looking in his direction anymore, instead, focusing on Vulko walking through the office door moments behind Harry. The others fill in the room behind him, but the professor's attention is elsewhere. More specifically, her eyes are set on Egg, still sitting comfortably on Vulko's shoulder gumming gently at his ears.
"Is that… a dragon?" she asks, eyes narrowed behind her square spectacles. She seems suddenly tense, even going so far as to reach for her wand. Fawkes on the other hand, sitting on his usual perch, trills happily at the other creature. Egg simply stares at the phoenix from afar, clearly unsure what to make of him and being much too engrossed in his newest friend Vulko.
"A Leviathan," Harry corrects, using the bond to call Egg back to his outstretched arm. Egg bends low on Vulko's shoulder and launches himself across the room, spreading his wings out wide and flapping them wildly in mid-air on instinct—not that they do much given his age and inexperience flying. He lands on Harry's arm and returns to his usual place around Harry's neck. "Don't worry, he's not dangerous—not to anybody I trust."
It's that exact, rather unfortunate, moment that Snape of all people decides to join them in Dumbledore's office. He stops in the doorway, emotionlessly scanning the room with dark eyes, passing over Harry as though he was accustomed to his most hated student wearing Atlantean golden scale mail. He only stops when his eyes reach Egg. He does his best to look unconcerned, but it's obvious he's more wary with the beast in the room.
Egg's reaction isn't nearly so subtle. He screeches, a high pitched shriek far louder than Harry has ever heard from his bonded beast—enough that it makes him flinch from being so close to his ear. His jaws are open wide revealing the rows of sharp teeth within. His wings are spread wide in a defensive posture and he stands on his hind legs from his position on Harry's shoulder while keeping his front legs on Harry's head for balance.
Harry shields Egg just as Snape raises his wand, his shoulder tense and his face morphed into a snarl, not unlike the beast he's pointing at.
The office becomes a flurry of movement. McGonagall lifts her wand, though she looks terribly uncertain about it. Ron and Hermione step forward, looking rapidly between the agitated Egg and Snape's defensive stance, unsure of who to support despite their reservations about Snape. Tula and Garth on the other hand don't question who they should support at all. Garth's hand is outstretched like he's ready to cast a spell at a moment's notice. Tula lowers herself to the ground like she's preparing to tackle Snape to the ground to prevent him from attacking either Harry or Egg, even in self defense. The only two not to make a move are Dumbledore and Vulko, though they watch with rapt attention.
"Don't move," Vulko says to Harry's four companions. "Leave it to Prince Harry." Hermione looks like she wants to ask questions, but seems to think better of it. Still, she lifts a hand to her mouth to anxiously chew on her nails.
In addition to Vulko's words, Harry holds a hand up to stop Tula and Garth from forcibly lowering Snape's wand, or worse, completely incapacitating the potential threat, before attempting to shush the Leviathan. Out his peripheral vision he sees Garth immediately lower his hand to his side once more, but Tula takes longer. She looks briefly uncertain whether she should listen to Harry or trust in her mandate to protect him, but one look at Harry's hardened expression has her leaning back against the wall with a sigh.
As much as Egg trusts the people that Harry does, this is the first time since their joining that Egg has been so agitated. There's no real way to know that any action taken by someone other than Harry won't make his emotional state worse, so it's definitely best to let Harry handle it. If there's one sure thing, it's that Egg won't hurt Harry himself.
Harry turns his vacant side to the potions professor, instead focusing on Egg, or rather, on trying to calm Egg. Through their bond he can feel Egg's panic at the mere sight of Snape, more than likely due to Harry's own feelings about the teacher he hates more than any other. Everybody Egg has met so far has had Harry's trust, so meeting Snape is definitely a new experience.
Harry reaches up to the Leviathan, but instead of becoming more docile, Egg simply climbs over to his other shoulder to bare his teeth and hiss at Snape from an even closer distance, like he's trying to get between Harry and his apparent enemy despite his obvious fear.
Snape, despite trying to maintain his usual nonplussed appearance, definitely looks panicked as he clenches his wand tighter. His eyes are wide and he's taken several steps back until he's standing outside the room, probably more out of surprise than genuine fear of Egg. At his size, no doubt Snape would have a plethora of spells he could use to defend himself, but being threatened by a creature like Egg—a creature unknown to the surface world and all but mythical to Atlanteans—would have anyone on edge, no matter his size. Even as a baby his teeth are outrageously sharp, more than likely able to carve through flesh and bone with utter ease.
Harry does his best to send calming waves through the Clear, but it's not exactly easy with Egg's defensive fear clouding his mind. Add to that, Harry battling his own dislike of Snape who has his wand in hand pointed at Egg, a clear sign of aggression, and Egg is becoming that much harder to restrain. Another terrible headache threatens to pound inside Harry's skull.
"Lower your wand," Harry orders Snape.
Snape sneers, and if anything his wand arm becomes more rigid. "I won't hurt the beast permanently, but you cannot make a dragon a pet. I would have thought your experiences with Hagrid in your first year had taught you that."
"He's not a dragon," Harry says, his voice low and fists clenched at his side. His tone and annoyance on top of the tense situation causes another bout of screeching from Egg. To anyone else, Egg might look aggressive, ready to attack. But Harry knows he's just acting out of fear. "He's my bonded Leviathan, and he's afraid of you—lower your wand!"
Snape looks more hesitant than before, but his wand remains in place. Egg is growling low as he's curled close to Harry's body for protection, but he's still moving his head to keep an eye on his perceived threat as Harry tries to pull the Leviathan out of view from Snape. He knows that the teacher's adverse reaction isn't that he is stupid or ignorant, more that he simply doesn't understand the difference between Egg and a surface dragon. Honestly, it's hard to blame him, loathe as Harry is to admit it.
Still, if it comes down to a choice between defending Snape or defending Egg—and if Snape doesn't lower his wand it definitely will—then Harry would choose Egg time and again. There's no time to explain to Snape about his bond with Egg and why he's reacting the way he is to Snape's presence.
"Lower your wand!" Harry orders again shouting now, though this time he's summoning the Trident of Poseidon into his grip and slamming the haft of it into the ground as a clear threat. The metallic clang rings through Dumbledore's office until the only thing that can be heard is Egg's low rumbling.
Near Harry, Hermione grabs Ron's arm and turns her head into his shoulder, desperate not to see anything bad happen. Ron himself looks pale, but he won't tear his eyes away. Harry can't blame them. It's one thing to maybe give the potions professor a little backchat every now and again, but another entirely to potentially threaten him with a weapon, especially one as menacing as the Trident of Poseidon.
Dumbledore takes a step, looking rather more serious than he usually does, but he doesn't get any words out. Instead, Fawkes launches himself from his perch and begins to sing. The sound is utterly beautiful, perhaps the most majestic and melodic thing that Harry has ever heard. But more than just the sound, it's the effect Fawkes has that is the more incredible. A feeling of utter tranquility falls over him, any tension or stress at all floating out of Harry's body and into the abyss.
It has Snape lowering his wand, and it gives Harry the in he needs to fully calm Egg. He immediately brute forces every sort of peaceful feeling he can muster through the bond until Egg retracts his wings and nuzzles his face into Harry's. Egg still keeps one bright blue eye fixed on Snape as though the potions Professor might attack him or Harry at any moment.
Hermione lets out a sigh of relief loud enough that everyone in the office can hear it. Next to her, Ron smiles, though it looks uncomfortable. "That was… tense," he attempts a laugh but never quite makes it there.
"What an astounding creature," Vulko murmurs to himself under his breath, ignoring Ron and Hermione and staring at the phoenix still circling the room. "Like it's made of living fire…" Vulko shakes his head and tears his eyes away from the mythical bird. "Not exactly the diplomatic beginning we were hoping for, though." The old man himself fixes Harry in his spot with a frown, doing his best to send a silent message. His enunciation of 'diplomatic' in particular is very telling.
Harry sighs, completely understanding what Vulko is trying to silently tell him. He's definitely picked up on Harry's… mixed feelings towards Snape and doesn't approve that he was able to do so with relative ease. In their many lessons, Vulko had taught again and again that in his position as Prince, Harry has to do his best to ignore personal feelings. Especially now that they're on the surface, he's going to have to do his best to push such feelings aside and act as an ambassador. He has to act as the bridge between Atlantis and all of the wizarding world, not just the ones that he likes. It's easier said than done.
"Tula, could you get Egg out of here for a while? Take him back to the ship maybe, or to Hagrid's, if you can remember how to get there. Egg will like Hagrid," Harry orders. Tula nods and reaches for Egg, who climbs onto her shoulder without hesitation.
"Fawkes, perhaps you would like to join her?" Dumbledore adds.
Fawkes trills happily and lands on Tula's other shoulder. She doesn't seem at all concerned about his presence, simply stepping through the office door, lifting a hand to pet his fire-colored feathers.
Sending Egg away is hardly a perfect solution. When they're apart Egg can still feel Harry's emotions without seeing what is happening which can easily lead to a very panicked young Leviathan. Still, with Snape here and setting off a potentially violent response in the creature, being apart for a small while might well be the best choice to allow Egg some time to calm down.
"I'm sorry, Professor Snape," Harry says, though the words taste like ash in his mouth. "I could never have calmed Egg while he felt threatened."
Across the room, Vulko nods approvingly at his apology. "A newly bonded beast will rely almost entirely on the subconscious mind of their bonded for guidance, in this case, Prince Harry. Trying to restrain them at such a young age is quite difficult. Indeed, were Prince Harry not actively calming the Leviathan with his magic, things would have ended quite differently," he explains.
McGonagall's face has returned to its usual pinched 'I'm giving you two weeks' detention' visage. "Are you sure it was wise to bring such a hostile creature into Hogwarts? What if it threatens another student?" she asks.
Harry shakes his head before she even finishes and swallows an exasperated sigh. "Egg is only a baby, and our bond is new. Right now he needs to be as close to me as often as possible. With a little time and training nothing like what just happened will reoccur. He's just picked up on some… unfortunate history Professor Snape and I share."
Under normal circumstances Snape would be giving him months worth of detention, coupled with insults ranging from his so called arrogance to 'how very much like his father' he is. Right now, though, he's saying nothing, just standing still with a contemplative expression. That alone is very telling about how things have changed so rapidly. Snape isn't going to be treating him the same way. Everything is different now.
"That issue can wait," Dumbledore interrupts, speaking with more urgency than Harry can ever remember. "We have more important matters to discuss."
"Indeed, we do, and I believe introductions are in order," Vulko begins, likely eager to put the issue of Egg's behavior behind them. Snape turns his gaze towards Vulko, his face as unreadable as ever. The telltale sneer doesn't seem to bother the Atlantean vizier in even a small way. "I am Lord Nuidis Vulko, royal advisor to the throne of Atlantis," he introduces himself with a small bow. "You must be Professor Snape, and you," he turns to McGonagall, "must be Professor McGonagall. Prince Harry has told me a great deal about you."
Prince Harry. Lord Nuidis Vulko.
In Atlantis, especially in the first Tride of Poseidonis, he would just be Harry, and Vulko would just go by his surname. Things are different on the surface. He's deliberately using their titles and keeping things formal rather than taking a more casual approach and just using their given names. He means for Hogwarts to understand completely that he is not Harry Potter now, at least, not the way he was. They're amongst royalty, not the same student they've had the last three years.
"I am here to assist the Prince in revealing our Kingdom to your wizarding world," Vulko continues. "I want to make it clear, however, that I am here only in an advisory capacity. I have not come to be the mouthpiece for Atlantis. That role is to be filled by Prince Harry."
Dumbledore nods sagely, but neither McGonagall or Snape look as though they're filled with confidence at the plan. "Is that a good idea?" McGonagall asks quietly, far more uncertain than she usually sounds. "I apologize for any offense, for none is intended, but on the surface there are many who are unlikely to take the words of a fourteen year old boy as seriously as what will be needed for an event of this magnitude."
Vulko looks to Harry to answer, and he gets the distinct impression that the advisor is only going to step in if he feels he needs to. The wizarding world is going to have countless questions about Atlantis, and even though Vulko has joined him, it's going to be up to Harry alone to provide the answers.
"That's exactly why it needs to be me," Harry says, his voice firm despite his doubts and nerves. "I am the Prince, and in Atlantis, age is not a deciding factor. I will not step aside because some on the surface might find my age and position uncomfortable. I will hold to Atlantean ideals, to show the world who we are despite any surfacer misgivings."
Neither McGonagall nor Snape look convinced. It's not surprising; they've spent years teaching teenagers, and no doubt, they believe they've seen the upper limits of what youth can achieve. But they haven't. In Harry's view, Atlantis' young are able to achieve such success and skill as what any adult can do because they have no limits placed on them. No Atlantean would look at a teen and believe them somehow incapable. Not so on the surface. Perhaps the reason adults on the surface don't believe their young as capable as they could be is a result of the limits they place on them—the mere fact that they believe they can't do things. In a lot of ways, it's just like performing magic. It always works better when the caster believes.
"Well said," Dumbledore smiles approvingly. "I, for one, believe you will do a terrific job. You have always risen to the occasion before, and we've no reason to believe you will falter now."
McGonagall shakes her head once. "I can't say that I agree, but I have to admit that you are not the same Harry Potter that left at the end of last term. More than that, I suppose my opinion does not matter now. You are the Prince of Atlantis, not just one of my young lions."
Her tone is strangely sad, almost like she's going to miss being the one that Harry would have to go to for advice. A wave of affection for her washes over him. "I'm still a Gryffindor, and your opinion still matters to me," Harry says with a soft smile. "But I have to do this my way. The Atlantean way. I'm trying to connect two worlds—I can't do it by pretending that Atlantis and the surface don't have differences."
Vulko is still smiling, face full of pride.
"Uhm, Harry?" Ron interrupts. "I think that ship sailed when you jumped thirty feet through the air like it was nothing. Every photographer the Prophet has was on that platform."
"True, but I'm not talking about physical differences. I'm talking cultural differences—societal differences," Harry answers. "Atlantis is like nothing the surface world could ever imagine, and I want to shine a spotlight on that, not diminish it."
"Of course," Dumbledore adds. "Talking about your culture and trying to unite our peoples should be the primary focus. However, that the Prophet already had the story about your involvement in the Battle of Gotham makes that very much more difficult."
Harry throws back his head and lets out the growl of frustration he's been feeling all day despite Vulko's earlier hint at formality. "I know. That's why I didn't stay on the Hogwarts Express. I wanted to get here early to prepare a response. I still don't know how I'm going to deal with it. Revealing Atlantis was going to be hard without all these complications. They need answers about Orm and the Trench, and I don't know how to ease any concerns they'll have." The office is silent for several long moments. Clearly, nobody has an easy answer to that problem, though Harry's sure Vulko is working through some kind of plan already. Even if he's tight lipped about potential plans, Harry knows that the man's mind is always ticking over.
The silence is broken by a tap tap tap on the nearby window. Every eye turns to the tawny owl sitting on the windowsill outside, a small piece of rolled up parchment tied to its leg.
"Well," Dumbledore says after opening the window and scanning over his message, "the good news is that we still have several hours to help you decide what you're going to say."
The good news… That never actually sounds good. It's always followed by something more negative.
"The bad news, it's more than likely that your crowd will consist of more than just our ministry and media. I've just received a message as Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. They'll all be coming, too…"
The whole International Confederation of Wizards?
Harry swears that if his Atlantean physiology hadn't been activated over the summer, he'd be vomiting all over Dumbledore's office floor.
"Take a deep breath," Vulko says in his most soothing voice. "You are as well prepared as possible under the circumstances."
Under the circumstances. Hardly a stellar endorsement of their level of preparedness.
Harry's sitting in the antechamber behind the Great Hall of Hogwarts, his hands running nervously up and down his thighs. The rest of the Atlanteans who had come to Hogwarts are waiting on the other side of the room, every one of them donned in their Drift armor. If Harry's going to be standing up in front of the world's wizarding community, it's best if it's more than just him representing Atlantis. They're only going to be there for appearances' sake to hopefully allay some of the fears some of them will have about Orm and the Trench.
Egg is back on his shoulder, Hagrid having returned with the beast a few hours after Tula had taken him away. The half-giant had been just as excited about Egg as Harry had guessed, especially since Harry promised that he could see the Leviathan whenever he wanted. Still, right now it's important that Harry have him back. Sure, it might worry some of the witches and wizards to see what they would perceive as a dragon on his shoulder, but it's likely to amaze just as many others. Harry moreso hopes that Egg will be able to stay calm both under Harry's anxiety and the crowd.
Not that Harry wants to be the center of attention, but as Ron was quick to point out, that ship has sailed. If they already know Atlantis is real, then Harry needs to make them understand just how incredible it is. The more the wizarding world is amazed by Atlantis, the more they are going to want to be a part of that. Their afternoon of planning had been geared around that very idea.
"I know," Harry says quietly. "But still, I'm a little nervous."
Outside the door in the Great Hall is one of the biggest crowds to sit in Hogwarts in recent memory. Not just the returning students, but Britain's full Wizengamot, every sitting member of the International Confederation of Wizards, and many of the wizarding world's journalists. Dumbledore had needed to enlist the help of some of the Professors in order to magically enhance the size of the already massive Great Hall. It's more than a little unnerving.
"I never thought about it before, though," Harry begins to ask, suddenly curious. "Why did you come instead of Seneschal Kae? Isn't he the one who has spent years studying the surface?"
Vulko nods. "True, but he's never really experienced the surface."
"But you have?"
Vulko turns to face Harry fully. He lets out a long breath before speaking. "After Atlanna—I was lost. It was too… difficult to stay in Atlantis. So yes, I've experienced the surface. I moved around on the surface for several years. I only returned once I heard about your father making it to Poseidonis," Vulko's tone is sad and wistful, as utterly melancholy as Harry had heard it in the cave in Poseidonis where he had learned of Vulko's deep love for Queen Atlanna.
His demeanor changes in an instant, as though he's suddenly remembered where they are. "But I did learn something on the surface, something Seneschal Kae wouldn't understand despite all his knowledge."
Harry raises an eyebrow.
"People are the same on the surface as they are under the seas. Those in power often want to challenge the strong, whether to test their own strength against yours because of insecurity or to test if yours is even real. You need to be ready for it. Whether the wizarding world loves Atlantis or not is irrelevant. To some of them, you may be nothing more than a mere fourteen year old boy raised in their world who's lucked their way into one of the most powerful positions on earth. You must show them who you have become, or rather, who you've always been deep down. They might treat you as Harry Potter—but now you are Prince Harry Atlan-son."
Harry manages a small smile, Vulko's words reminding him of the ones he had spoken before the Battle of Gotham. The words that had got Harry through his meeting with the Atlantean Royal Council.
"Show them your strength," Harry whispers, repeating the words back to his old mentor.
Vulko chuckles quietly, seemingly to himself. "Right. If you can stand up before the stubborn Lords of the Atlantean Council and win them to your side, then this is nothing."
There's definitely logic to that. Compared to the resolute and unyielding Atlantean Royal Council, facing a wizarding world that Harry's more accustomed with might even be easier. Besides, as Dumbledore had pointed out, despite the looming threat of Orm and his Trench, this is still a momentous occasion. The Wizarding World has revered the mere thought of Atlantis for millenia, and now the legend is being made real. That thought isn't enough to erase his apprehension, but it definitely abates it.
The door to the antechamber opens, allowing all the noise and excitement from the Great Hall to filter in. It makes Harry's stomach turn, but in a weird way he's excited. Every amazing thing he's experienced since he found out who he really is, and now he gets to share it with others. It's an incredible opportunity.
"Are you ready?" Professor Dumbledore steps through the door. "They're waiting for you."
Harry takes a deep breath and rises to his feet, gazing around the room at the other Atlanteans. They stand ready, Garth even giving Harry a single reassuring nod. Harry nods back. He may not always be the easiest to talk to, but his presence is always oddly comforting. It's nice to know that Garth is such a solid foundation that very few things ever really seem to bother him, and his stoic confidence gives Harry support.
"I'm ready," Harry says. "You're speaking first?"
Dumbledore nods. "Just to introduce you. You should be the one to do the talking."
One more deep breath in an attempt to calm his churning stomach, and Harry steps out after Dumbledore into the Hogwarts Great Hall. Vulko, his royal guards, and the rest of the Drift step through after.
Harry emerges at the back of the Great Hall, his eyes widening in surprise at the extent to which they'd had to enlarge it. He was expecting an increase big enough for maybe an extra fifty or sixty people, not for it to be nearly double its usual size. The teachers table at the head of the Hall has been removed, and the student tables pushed towards the back and turned so they're horizontal rather than running up the length of the room. Harry feels a small pang of guilt for the poor Hufflepuffs forced to sit around their table at the very back. Even with his increased Atlantean eyesight, they seem very far away.
Instead, all that remains at the top end of the hall is Dumbledore's owl lectern podium. Just off the raised dais are rows of seating before the student tables, all filled with people—likely a combination of the Wizengamot, the International Confederation of Wizards, and journalists from every major respected wizarding newspaper. Hushed whispers fill the hall, but with Harry's Atlantean hearing not much of it is hidden from him.
"He still just looks like Harry Potter. Is he really Atlantean?"
"They just look like regular people—except their clothes. What are they wearing?"
"You-know-who must be spinning in his grave! His greatest enemy—an Atlantean Prince!"
Every eye in the room is focused on the front of the Hall, making Harry feel like he's an ant under a magnifying glass. No matter his discomfort though, his back is straight, head held high. Show them your strength. Vulko's words have once again become a personal mantra.
Harry stands near Dumbledore as he takes his place in front of the podium. The royal guards and the Drift line the back of the wall, far enough out of the way so they don't intimidate the crowd but close enough to offer support. Tula and Garth stay within arms length of Harry with Vulko close behind should he be needed. They're close enough for it to be reassuring, but the separation just reinforces the fact that this is all on him. His stomach twists again, and Egg lets out a sort of mewling cry and rubs his face against Harry's, as if trying to make him feel better. The crowd gasps as Egg moves, probably previously believing him to be some sort of Atlantean fashion accessory until it's obvious he's a real creature.
Dumbledore points his wand at his own mouth and mutters an incantation. A simple voice magnification charm. During a normal year he's never needed it. Despite his age, Dumbledore's voice is loud and commanding when he needs it to be, but with the size of the Hall magically enlarged and the dull roar of whispers, he no doubt needs the magical assistance.
"Welcome one and all, both new and returning students and our visitors for this historic occasion. Before we begin, I should inform our students that the welcoming feast may run a little late tonight, as well as the usual sorting ceremony. I'm sure you can appreciate that our first night into the new term has taken a turn towards the extraordinary."
"Now, onto more exciting topics, and I'm sure, what you have all been waiting for," Dumbledore claps his hands together in excitement.
"Four years ago we welcomed Harry Potter to our world. We knew him as the boy-who-lived, the only survivor of the killing curse, and the vanquisher of Lord Voldemort."
Harry nearly rolls his eyes as several people in the crowd flinch at the name. Hushed whispers begin again. He's almost a little annoyed, but the simple reaction helps drive home how familiar he is with these people. Somehow, that alleviates his discomfort. Dumbledore holds up a hand to quiet them.
"Yet, his story is more fascinating than we even believed. The Daily Prophet's article was indeed correct—Harry Potter is the Prince of Atlantis."
Magical cameras flash as voices begin to fill the hall at the confirmation. Some of the journalists are on their feet, their floating quick quotes quills scratching furiously on their pads. Some even begin shouting questions up at Dumbledore, pointing at him and holding quills in the air to try and get his attention. Their voices become louder and louder in an attempt to drown each other out. Some even take out their wands and conjure sparks in order to get attention. Harry strives to keep his expression neutral even though the sounds feel like they're reverberating in his head. Egg whines in his ear and presses closer to his head, and Harry can feel his discomfort through their bond. Thankfully, he doesn't react more than that, though.
Once more, the Hogwarts headmaster holds up a hand to bring quiet. Shockingly enough, it works. Then again, if there's one single person in the wizarding world who has wide-spread respect, it's Albus Dumbledore. Though, he wouldn't put it beyond the crowd to quiet down if only to get answers rather than out of respect—not with news of this magnitude.
"I'm not here to answer questions on his behalf. Indeed, Prince Harry is prepared to make a statement. Please, hold any questions until you hear what he has to say. Please welcome Prince Harry."
Dumbledore steps aside, clapping his hands softly together and urging Harry to take his place before the podium. With a deep breath, Harry takes a step forward, Egg arching his neck high and looking out over the applauding crowd with both wonder and suspicion.
Show them your strength. Harry clears his voice. The last thing he needs is his voice cracking with nerves. As soon as the applause stops, Harry begins to speak, his voice as loud and confident and steady as he can manage.
"Everyone has heard the story of Atlantis, the city-nation that sank beneath the waves thousands of years ago. In the wizarding world, we recognize Atlantis as the birthplace of our magic…"
The crowd begins to murmur, but Harry ignores them, continuing his story.
"What you don't know is that the Great Flood, as we call it in Poseidonis, was not the end of our Kingdom. By the power and grace of Atlan, the King of Atlantis at that time, the people were saved but forever changed. Many died, overcome by the catastrophe. Those who did not became the first of the current Atlanteans, magical people able to survive indefinitely on the ocean floor.
Despite the devastation of the Great Flood, we have rebuilt our Kingdom. Spanning the world's oceans, Atlantis is populated by millions. We have studied and developed our magical knowledge over thousands of years, and our science is more advanced than anything that can be found on the surface. I have not just returned to Hogwarts to announce Atlantis' survival to the surface, but to offer our helping hand to any that may need it. Atlantis would like nothing more than to reunite with the magical communities on the surface."
Short and sweet, just what they had decided on together in Dumbledore's office throughout the afternoon. He'll have the chance to answer more questions, but for the most part it's probably best if they are not inundated with too much information right away. That's especially true with some of the other solutions they had come up with. There will be time to explain everything.
"I'm happy to answer questions now, but I apologize that I don't know many of your names. Professor Dumbledore has agreed to help."
What looks like a thousand hands shoot straight into the air, some holding their wands, others quills, and even one exceptionally tall umbrella. They all begin to shout. Even some of the students towards the back raise their hands.
Dumbledore points first to one that Harry actually recognizes. Minister Fudge. Not the best to start with, since Harry knows exactly what question he's going to ask, but that's also no doubt the exact reason Dumbledore picked him. Best to get it over with. Most of them are probably thinking the same, anyway.
"Harry—" he begins, but is immediately cut off by Dumbledore.
"Ah, that's Prince Harry now, Minister," the headmaster points out.
A look of distaste flashes across Fudge's features, but he does reluctantly correct himself. "Prince Harry, you were identified because of a photograph taken in the disastrous Battle of Gotham. Creatures from the ocean clearly attacked the city. Is it not feasible that the same creatures could attack here, especially as you have so callously returned and revealed yourself?"
Harry isn't so much taken aback by the question, but rather how Fudge asked it. It was infinitely more hostile than he was anticipating. Then again, Vulko had warned about people challenging Harry due to his position. Fudge is clearly threatened.
Dumbledore looks sideways at Harry, almost like he's asking Harry if he wants to answer the question. He does. His nerves are gone now, replaced with the same fire he had when he faced the Atlantean Royal Council, and Fudge is immensely less intimidating than them.
"I want to be very clear about what happened at the Battle of Gotham," Harry says, enunciating every syllable. "Firstly, yes, I was there, and I fought against the creatures that attacked the city. They are called the Trench, a mindless, ravenous species from the deepest depths of the ocean."
"Under normal circumstances, they would not venture beyond those depths. However, using an Ancient Atlantean relic, it became possible to control them. In an attempted coup for the throne of my father, my uncle Orm used the relic to wage war on the surface. It is true that he maintains that control of them—"
Fudge jumps out of his seat and cuts Harry off, voice panicked and face red. He points at Harry and turns to face the crowd, his face practically screaming 'I told you so!'
"Then they are a threat!" he shouts, eerily reminiscent of Uncle Vernon. "How could you return here considering the risk they pose! It took an effort of what I'm told are some of the most powerful beings on the planet to turn them back!"
The crowd around him begins to talk over him, some shooting him down, others buying into his fear. More than he thought are silent, though, and—if anything—look more annoyed about his explanation being interrupted.
Harry shakes his head firmly. "You should curb your accusations, Minister," Harry says, trying, and only partly succeeding, to keep the coldness out of his tone. "I did not return without considering that risk. In fact, these men and women you see behind me? They are members of our most elite military force, the Drift, led by Captain Konal." The captain steps forward. "They are here to defend against any possible attack by the Trench on the wizarding world. The truth is, while Orm—"
A pudgy, toad faced woman next to Fudge raises her hand and stands up. She's dressed all in pink and looks rather like an over-sized marshmallow.
"Ahem," she clears her throat to grab Harry's attention and cut him off midway through his sentence.
"One question at a time please, Undersecretary," Dumbledore stops her before she can ask a question.
Harry shakes his head, pushing down his anger. He has to stay level headed, not just for himself and the audience, but also for Egg. If Egg gets out of control, he's going to have a hard time controlling his own emotions, not to mention needing to explain why his bonded beast is losing control.
"No, it's okay," he whispers to the headmaster. "You were going to ask a question, Undersecretary?" he leaves the question with an inflection in the hopes that she will at least provide him with a name.
"Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, Dolores Umbridge," she introduces herself. Her voice is falsely sweet, almost as if she were a possessed child in the body of someone far older. She's smiling, but there's no warmth behind it at all. It's cold and calculating. There's something in her expression that makes her intentions seem dark—like she would do anything to get her way.
"The Minister was asking about the threat to us here," she says, attempting to sound sweet and innocent. "But I can't help but notice you seem to be dodging the question. Are we at risk? Has your return here inadvertently placed the rest of us in harm's way?"
Harry has to refrain the urge to roll his eyes. He shakes his head instead. "No, and if you'd perhaps allow me to finish what I was saying, you might find out why. The fact is, Orm is interested in controlling the throne of Atlantis. He has nothing to gain by coming to Hogwarts or the wizarding world at large. Indeed, while he may know of the wizarding world, he knows nothing of how to even find it. The Drift soldiers that have come with me are as a precaution only."
Umbridge begins to speak again, her penetrating high voice like nails on a chalkboard. Dumbledore immediately cuts her off. "One question only, please—"
Harry gently touches Dumbledore's arm again to prevent him stopping her. He needs to do this by himself. Having Dumbledore's help in putting the issue behind them won't allay anyone's fears, and it would only underhand the authority Harry is building up. Now is not the time to come off as the fourteen year old he had been, letting others speak for him. More than that, the Minister and Umbridge have begun to annoy Harry, so he's got a vested interest in answering the question himself. He would prove them wrong. Harry nods at the woman to continue, clenching his fists so hard behind the podium that his fingers could nearly spear themselves through his palm. Egg growls, but luckily it's low and simmering like Harry's anger; he doubts any of the wizards could hear it.
"I can't help but notice that some of these 'Drift' that are here for our 'protection' are rather young." She continues in her honeyed tones. "After seeing what your ocean creatures did to Gotham City, should the soldiers meant to fight against them not be a little, ahem, more experienced?" Her furled brow and jutted lip seems like an attempt to appear concerned, but to him, it's extremely evident it's only a weak facade.
Harry finally sees an opportunity to shut them down. "First, they are not my ocean creatures. As I said before, I was in Gotham myself to help in the fight against them. Second, I mentioned that the Drift are our most elite military force. Conditions for entry to the Drift are strict. Only the most skilled are allowed entry. In fact, it was only with the Drift's help, including all of those behind me, that we were able to repel the Trenchers in Gotham City. In Atlantis, it is our skill and will, rather than our age, that is a deciding determination. In fact, and this is by no means an attempt at arrogance or Atlantean superiority, but our martial magic and weaponry is far beyond anything that can be found on the surface."
Time to prove it.
For the first time since Gotham, Harry forces magic through his body, calling on the power of the Tempest. He only allows himself a trickle of his full magic. He's got nowhere near the control he needs for anything big, but just a small amount is all he needs to prove his point. It doesn't have to be powerful; it just needs to be showy. Lightning crackles up and down his arms. Half of the crowd backs away, the other looking as though they want to crawl forward to get a closer look. The effect on them doubles when, behind him, Garth also calls on his channeler magic to engulf his right arm in fire and his left in ice. He cuts off his magic at the exact moment Harry does.
Harry has never wanted to hug his most formal guard more. He's damn good at reading the room, or at least following Harry's lead. If the goal is to amaze them, then that was a pretty good start.
"You should be careful not to insult these men and women, Undersecretary. It is only by their efforts that Gotham still stands," Harry finishes.
Unfortunately, the display only makes her more determined. His answer definitely made her more uncomfortable, but it also has the added effect of making her sure to try harder to get her way. Harry's decidedly going to be having a pointed conversation with Dumbledore about why the Minister seems to want to discredit him so badly. For now, the show seems to work in stopping her line of questioning, but her attacks continue on to other topics.
"And the dragon on your shoulder? Are you aware that the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical creatures classifies dragons as a level five dangerous creature? In short, they have been declared wizard killers and impossible to domesticate. As you are a citizen of the British wizarding community still—"
Now, it's Harry's turn to cut her off; her declaration of him as a citizen of Magical Britain pushing him straight over the edge of his already fraying emotions. "I am the Prince of Atlantis!" he nearly yells, summoning the Trident of Poseidon into his hand on instinct. Several sighs of admiration and amazement sound from the crowd as the golden weapon materializes into his grip. "Atlantean laws are quite different from those on the surface, and even if they were not, you are wrong."
Egg lets out a soft gargling, growling sound and clambers up Harry's neck to the top of his head, clearly sensing his increasing agitation and wanting to find the source of the annoyance. Dumbledore turns his head slightly to the side to watch Harry, his face suddenly concerned.
I can't get angry…
After a deep breath, Harry sends more calm through their bond, which doubles as an effect for himself. As much as he wants to be firm, especially with such an easy to hate woman, getting angry will not meet the moment. He needs to be better than them—to rise above their negativity. Show them your strength, he repeats the mantra in his head.
"This is Aegeus, and he is not a dragon," Harry clarifies with much less anger than he's actually feeling. "He's a Leviathan. In Atlantis, many of us are lucky enough to get the opportunity to create a magical and mental bond with a magical creature. Aegeus chose me as his bondmate. He can sense my emotions and my mental wellbeing, and I his. While it is not domestication per se, he would only willingly attack an enemy, and only if I allowed it."
In an attempt to prove it, Harry takes a step closer to Dumbledore and holds out his arm like a chicken wing. "Do you mind?" Harry asks him. "He's not heavy."
Dumbledore actually looks delighted at the suggestion. "Please," he says. "I would relish the opportunity."
With a single push through the bond, Egg clambers down from Harry's shoulder onto his outstretched arm and onto Dumbledore's much taller height. He lets out a happy screech and settles around Dumbledore's neck, twisting his glowing blue tail into Dumbledore's long gray beard. He promptly goes to sleep, and Harry is briefly reminded of how young Egg still is. All the emotions today surely wore him out. Harry's happy to hear several murmurs of 'cute' out in the crowd.
"And what about—" Umbridge is doggedly determined to find a crack in Harry's armor.
"I think it's time for other questions," Harry cuts her off with an orotund voice. Hands shoot back into the air. Apparently, the other journalists and politicians could care less about the previous tension. They just want more answers. With her face red and splotchy with not-so-concealed rage, Umbridge takes her seat.
"Yes, Mugwump Babajide Akingbade of the Egyptian Ministry for Magic," Dumbledore nods to the next question.
A dark skinned man in multicolored robes stands tall and speaks with a deep voice and an African accent. He looks briefly towards Minister Fudge and Undersecretary Umbridge before locking eyes with Harry. "Well, I for one am delighted about Atlantis' choice to reconnect with the wizarding community, and I congratulate your efforts in Gotham City. It was clear the tide was turned after Atlantean forces arrived."
Harry nods his thanks.
The man continues. "I think it's also clear that the wizarding community has a great deal to learn about Atlantis, and that isn't going to happen in a single night. My question is about Atlantis and reconnecting with all of the wizarding world. I understand that you have grown up in wizarding Britain, but I think I can speak for other wizarding nations when I say that reconnecting to Atlantis is important to the rest of us as well."
Harry nods several times as he listens. "I understand your concern, and I think we have a potential solution assuming we can agree. First, I should introduce Lord Nuidis Vulko, vizier, or advisor, to the throne of Atlantis." Vulko steps forward and bows low.
"Before we came to the surface, Lord Vulko and I spoke about this issue at length," Harry says. It's a lie, and the idea he's about to present was actually Dumbledore's, but that's better left unsaid. As headmaster, Dumbledore doesn't actually have the authority to make such suggestions, at least not without it causing a problem. As Prince of Atlantis, Harry doesn't have that limitation.
"Unfortunately, since Atlantis is currently waging war against my treacherous uncle and the Trench, we cannot spare the resources necessary to make prolonged visits to the other wizarding nations. Instead, we studied wizarding history in an attempt to find a compromise. For those who aren't aware, throughout history, and in an attempt to foster international wizarding cooperation, there was a tournament held between three schools: the Triwizard Tournament, a tournament traditionally with participants from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang Institute.
If we were to host a similar tournament, and open it to all the major wizarding schools in the world, it could be a way for prolonged access to all the wizarding communities. It would not only be a friendly competition, but a way for all of us to gather, connect, learn about, and educate one another. Lord Vulko here has also agreed to be around to teach classes for both students and otherwise on Atlantean culture, history, and society."
The crowd is silent other than the occasional whisper and scratching of quills, though most of those seem to be coming from the back of the room where the Hogwarts students are located. From what Harry can hear, most seem to think it a good idea.
"That is quite the proposal, Prince Harry," Babajide says slowly, lifting a hand to his chin in contemplation.
"And one he has no authority to make!" Fudge calls out. "There are protocols and processes that need to be followed—"
Harry swallows more of his growing rage at the Minister. "Hence the use of the word 'proposal,'" he nearly snaps. "I'm not pretending it's not going to have its difficulties, and I am more than happy to find an alternative solution. But the fact is, I cannot travel to as many wizarding communities as I would like, and this would be a good opportunity for true and complete international wizarding cooperation on a scale that hasn't been seen before. All the major wizarding schools and Atlantis, all working together…"
"A fantastic solution, Prince Harry," a woman with an Australian accent calls out. "We may need to discuss some of the details, but—"
Professor Dumbledore steps up. "As Supreme Mugwump, I would like to call a meeting for later tonight to discuss the proposal. I apologize for cutting the discussion short prematurely, but we do like to get caught up in discussions about policy, and I have students waiting for dinner and first years to be sorted into their houses. We may only have time for a few more questions. As he said, Prince Harry will be around throughout the year to answer more questions."
Harry lets out a sigh of relief. At least the most problematic questions have been answered. Also, it's relieving that despite Fudge and Umbridge's efforts, many of them seem receptive to Atlantis. Then again, Harry would be lying to himself to say that it was no more than just a few that seemed to share their concerns. Hardly a perfect beginning, but things could certainly have gone worse, especially given the short notice organisation. Harry smiles at Dumbledore, silently thanking him for the help.
"Next question?"
The questions that follow are far easier to answer. Questions regarding the obvious wandless magic the crowd had seen him use and others about how he had discovered the truth of his parentage. Of course, he'd had to lie about that. Admitting that it was because his awful muggle cousin had pushed him off a cliff would invite a plethora of other questions that he did not feel like answering. Other than needing to reinforce the fact that James Potter had known Harry wasn't his biological son, things had gone very easy.
Dumbledore had called an end to the questions before the Minister and his horrid Undersecretary had been able to attempt any more damage, and the Feast had begun for the students. Most of the guests had stayed as well, most likely in an attempt to find out what would be decided by the International Confederation of Wizards.
Now, though, Harry has to face a different crowd altogether, and in some ways they are far more frightening and intimidating. Now, he's going to have to go back to the rest of the students.
Notes
A huge thanks to fireflii who beta'd this chapter for me. You're actually the best.
Also I really want to thank everyone who is leaving me nice reviews and following/fav'ing this fic. I don't always get as much time as I'd like to write for it, but it means a lot that people are reading and enjoying it. Sorry if I don't get the chance to respond to you all, but I promise I definitely see them, and I'm trying much harder to respond to them all.
Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Its definitely the longest I've written, juuust long enough to take it over the 100k word count, incidentally.
Quite possibly going to be two DC characters showing up in the next chapter, so that should be interesting.
Discord is up to 50 people btw! Link is in my profile!