Ira looked up from her desk as it opened, revealing a hooded figure. She reached for her gun, only for the figure to unhood themselves, revealing Harry's amused face. "Ira, it's been too long."

"Harry!" she squealed, jumping to her feet and rushing to his side, wrapping him in a tight hug. Harry chuckled, returning the gesture. "How did you get in here?"

"I have my ways, but don't you worry about that. You've been busy, Ira, the new patron saint of Poland," he teased. She blushed, nervously ducking her head.

"I...I did as I thought was best for your cause. You aren't displeased, are you?"

"No, far from it," he quickly assuaged her fears. "In fact, I'm impressed by your initiative. You've pleased me greatly with your actions, and it's a true testament to your abilities, even if you should check your occlumency."

Ira startled, quickly clamping down on her mind once she identified his probe. A not so subtle reminder for her to still be on her guard, and one she swore to take to heart as she ejected his probe, bemused that the violent extrication didn't seem to do anything to him, if his easy smile was any indication.

"Very good, you've been practicing, no doubt," he complimented. "Now if only the others in the circle could behave like you, then my life would be much easier."

"Oh?" Ira frowned. Sarah had grown more distant in her letters, and she was interested to know why. While Ira knew the younger girl would never desert the cause, that was not to say she could have fallen out of Harry's favour. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Nothing for you to concern yourself with. I'm already rectifying the situation. With that said, I came bringing some gifts." He unshrunk a small pile of packages, placing them on the floor. "A few boxes of your favoured chocolate, I suspect you're missing the magical world, it's the least I could do. A few notes on some new spells I feel could help you learn."

"Really?" Ira was intrigued. "And I don't suppose you want anything in return?"

"Some corpses would be helpful. Preferably ones you don't like." This stilled Ira, whose eyes goggled before she shook her head amusedly.

"We have bloody mass graves, if that's what you want," she shook her head. "Come, I'll take you. Plenty of those filled with Russian Reds."

The two walked out of her office, into a small patch of woodland, where there were several markers placed out. "They're roughly under here, around six hundred in this pit."

"Hmm," Harry nodded thoughtfully, raising his hand. To Ira's shock, several bodies shot out from the floor, and her wand shot instinctively to her hand. Harry pulled out a small vial of translucent white liquid and poured it down one of the corpses' throat. There was a glow, and the individuals' features returned, almost as though life was returning. Ira shuddered, wondering if Harry was reviving the dead. She had heard of inferni, even seen one raised, yet never had she seen a corpse regain the luster of life like that. It was clearly unnatural, and though she didn't voice it, caused her much trepidation.

Whatever happened, Harry seemed displeased by the result, as he let out an agitated sigh, glaring at the body, which erupted in violent flames, not even ashes left as everything was vaporised in several moments. Ira tensed, never having seen her superior this angry before.

He poured several more different vials down various bodies' throats, with similar results. By all intents and purposes, all looked as though they had been merely sleeping rather than dead for several weeks by now, the slight decomposition having been restored to the pinnacle of human beauty. Yet none truly woke up, something she was inwardly glad for.

Several more bodies were raised, this time with him writing on their bodies with a blood quill. They seemed capable of performing basic movements, yet none were truly alive, more like golems than anything. Harry shrunk several untouched corpses and pocketed them, before setting fire to the rest, turning back to her with a single nod.

"I suppose you wish to know what that was?"

"Raising the dead?" Ira tried to keep the fear out of her voice, being only partially successful. Harry chuckled.

"Do you know the three constituents of a functioning sentient being?"

"Body, mind, soul," she recited easily, earning a nod from Harry.

"Very good. As life is extinguished, all three elements decompose into nothing. Usually, the mind fails first, then the body, then the soul. What you saw were my attempts to restore the body and the mind. But, alas, it seems that it was too late."

"I...could get you to some fresh corpses," Ira proffered, despite her own unease. To her relief, Harry shook his head, rejecting the offer.

"Like I said, I'm not here to raise the dead, merely test out a theory. It seems that the solution isn't as simple as I believed."

"And what is that?" Ira queried. Harry eyed her scrutinously, something which caused Ira to feel naked. "If it's not my place t-"

"Magic is the root of most problems. From the dependency of magical civilization on proximity to ley lines limiting our growth, to the scarcity in resources this causes, magic is the limiting factor."

"I don't...understand," Ira frowned. Harry nodded understandingly, patting her on the shoulder and squeezing lightly.

"I know you don't. It doesn't matter, in the grand scheme of things, in fact it is probably preferable you remain ignorant to this aspect for now," Harry shook his head. "But seeing as we're rather secluded and have some time to ourselves, how about a bit of duelling practice with my best fighter?"

"Gladly," Ira grinned, whipping out her wand and firing off a barrage of spells. It had been far too long since she let loose like this.

-Break-

"Dad, you're home," Rose grinned, rushing up to hug the man. She sighed contently as he enveloped her in a warm embrace. "When did you get back?"

"A few days ago, I'm being stationed in Hogwarts next year."

"So you won't have to be all the way on the continent?" Rose asked hopefully. James nodded with a grin. "Yay!"

"Oh, and when were you planning to tell me this, husband?" Lily's amused voice cut through. The two looked up, to see her tapping her foot, arms crossed over her chest. James grinned sheepishly, running a hand through his hair.

"It was a surprise. Besides, I'm not supposed to let this slip, as far as officials are concerned I'm still in France, Celeste managed to get me back two weeks early."

"I guess I'll have to thank her the next time we meet then," Lily smiled fondly, placing a kiss on his lips. This quickly deepened until a cough from Rose interrupted them. Both parents looked as though they had been caught with hands in the cookie jar.

"What am I, chopped liver?"

"Of course not, darling," James chuckled, shifting nervously at her raised eyebrow. "Come, come, dear, why don't you tell me about your year. Letters can't compare to talking, of course."

"Why thank you, father. You do care after all," Rose snarked, mischief colouring her eyes. "My year was fine, mum already has my report card, I did reasonably well, top of my year overall. I joined the duelling club, lost out to some sixth years, but it was more a case of them outlasting me. Once I hit my next maturity, I should be among the top duellists."

"That's great, honey! What about friends, still hang out with Luna? You didn't befriend any of those slimy Slytherins, did you?"

"And if I did?" Rose asked archly. James gulped, his daughter's tone eerily reminiscent of his wife's. He turned to Lily, who merely smirked back at him.

"Now, honey, you can make friends with whoever you want, but there are many who would try and-"

"Take advantage of me?" Rose rolled her eyes. "I know, dad. I'm not the eleven year old girl staring wide eyed at Hogwarts."

Her expression briefly flickered between guilt and satisfaction at the pained grimace on James' face. He nodded tiredly. "Of course you aren't honey, but that won't stop me from worrying."

"I know, dad. I know," Rose sighed with fond exasperation. "But Daphne isn't like the other Slytherins. She and Tracey-"

"The neutrals, I know," James, unable to hide the distaste in his voice. "Look, who you befriend is your business, but their families...they aren't good people. They were the type content to sell to both sides of the war without concern. Those aren't the type of people you want as friends. At least with the dark the-"

"James!" Lily interjected harshly. "Don't bring po-"

"No mum," Rose rebuffed. "I need to learn these sort of things."

"But dear," Lily's features softened, "you're still so young, just give it a few years before worrying about this-"

"Mum. I'm the girl who lived. I lost any chance of a normal life the day he came to attack us. You can't keep sheltering me from this stuff."

"I know, I know," Lily sighed tiredly. "I...don't have to like it though."

Without another word, she left the room, clearly needing some time alone. As James moved to intercept, Rose tugged lightly on his sleeve, shaking her head. Reluctantly, he sat down on the couch. "Talk."

"The Greengrasses, they dealt with some shady business during the war. One of their warehouses, it contained hundreds of dark artifacts held from several dark families. It was swept under the rug because, well, they had the ministry by the neck, being one of the few able to bring in substantial amounts of potion ingredients. They're not...evil, per say, but they're definitely not good."

"You dislike them more than the dark?" Rose queried. James shrugged.

"They're different types of evil, I suppose, ideology versus pragmatism. Say what you will about the Death Eaters, at least most of them truly believed in their cause. I can...respect that, no matter how disgusting it may be. Those like the Greengrasses, though...they're cowards and opportunists who would stab your back the moment they sense blood in the water. They'll leech on you in the good times and rub salt in the wound during the bad."

"And how do you know Daphne is like them?"

"I can't," James shrugged, "but parents often shape the way their children think and act. Especially with a person like Cygnus, I have no doubt his heiress would be drilled into the family business."

"And what would you have me do?"

"Nothing. I just want you to be aware of the dangers," James sighed, taking Rose by surprise. "Look, I'm not going to tell you how to live your life, I would never do that to you, Rose, but I need you to understand that not everyone is going to have your best interests at heart."

-Break-

"Students, you have been selected because you represent the best and brightest that Durmstrang has. Be that in quidditch, academics, or duelling, each one of you are above your peers," Harry delivered smoothly. "But that does not mean you can let down your guard. Our opponents are equally, if not more accomplished than you in your fields. The cream of the crop. Against them, you may give everything, and find it insufficient to bring victory.

But our journey, despite what any others might tell you, is not to bring Durmstrang glory. For victory through any means is not necessarily desirable; only victory proved superiority is a true victory. As thus, in all fields, we shall compose ourselves with dignity, and face each challenge honourably. Humility in victory, a good sport in defeat, each and every one of you has undergone political training to know how to compose yourselves.

Make no mistake, each of you are the best in your respective fields, but you were selected for far more than that. You each possess something that your peers lack: charisma. You each possess a natural charm that lowers others' guards, that makes them willing to spill their secrets, willing to confide and trust. Willing to listen to and believe. It is this, more than anything, that resulted in my selection of you.

Our flock has largely remained centered around Durmstrang and the Baltic countries, but no more. With this tournament, our main objective is not victory on the quidditch pitch, or in the duelling pit, but in the hearts and minds of those from other countries. Each of you go, not as a representative of Durmstrang, but a representative of our cause. You must use every resource at your disposal to seek out friends, acquire allies, study enemies and undermine rivals. Succeed, and you may acquire a coveted space as a dreamer. Fail, and face my wrath."

Harry eyed each of the thirty nine students in front of him. All met him with resolve in the eyes, though he expected nothing less, having weeded out many other weaker candidates. The regime he had put them through would have made muggle drill sergeants go green and red with envy, for he had conditioned how they thought and how they acted as though they were extensions of himself. From studying the various magical cultures and their nuances, to reading body language, he had taken it upon himself personally to ensure the candidates were truly reflections of his flock.

"Dismiss no one, especially those from guest schools. The less able they seem, the more likely they have something of value to hide. No school would have brought liabilities, do not allow appearances to deceive you. Befriend everyone. None of them can be your best friend, but you can be all of their best friend at once. They are the future leaders of their countries, in their fields of study, and it is your duty to befriend all of them. Offer a sympathetic shoulder, nod and laugh, cry with them, for you must be their confidant. Allow them to bare their heart, their mind, their soul to you, for then, they become yours, and in turn, our cause's.

Take humiliation with a firm yet bated breath. Nod and smile in the open, strike deep into their backs from the shadows. Avoid making enemies, if at all possible. Failing that, avoid alerting them you have marked them an enemy. Failing that, handle them with great prejudice. Create opportunities and minimise threats, for this is the way of the Raven. Am I understood?"

"Yes milord," the thirty nine students stamped their right food, placing their fist over their heart as they stared forward. Harry smiled. The revolution was nearing critical mass, he could feel it. One more year. One more year, and the Raven would descend onto the world.

-Break-

Dumbledore sighed as he observed the school grounds from the window of his office. Thousands of individuals scurried about, completing their various tasks. There were warders and aurors heading into the Forbidden Forest, intent on culling the more dangerous beasts and ensuring security measures were in place to prevent any accidents. Hagrid had been inconsolable when several hundred acromantula carcasses were removed, and Dumbledore had no doubt the loss of revenue from selling acromantula silk would hurt the school dearly. Ambassador Lin had taken a vindictive pleasure on insinsting this measure was taken, something he couldn't deny given the risk it posed for an international event. His political influence was not what it once was, with Grindelwald's escape and Voldemort's rise significantly dampening the respect he commanded.

Looking further, he saw a small dry dock being constructed on the surface of the Great Lake, which would soon play host to the Durmstrang and New World Magicschola vessels. A large tract of land was being cleared, to house the various other vessels. Somehow the Persians had demanded a tract of land the size of a small tropical island! It had taken painstaking negotiations with the merpeople to reclaim some land and make this possible. Why they couldn't simply have transported themselves on brooms and use the Hogwarts dorms like sensible people Dumbledore would never know, though he did have a suspicion Lin had once again been responsible.

Already, several outrageous demands had been made. Severus had thrown a fit when ICW guild members had put him on probation for the unsafeness of the potion classrooms in the dungeons. The facilities being too contaminated, not having proper ventilation and a list of infractions totalling one hundred and eighty four. Having his potions master throw several fits had simply resulted in fines being levied against the man. While Dumbledore could agree that a few changes should be made eventually, surely they must have realised that it was unreasonable to expect so much.

Yet the demands had been made clear: either they get themselves up to standard or the tournament would be hosted elsewhere. Faced with the potential for losing face, especially since he had heavily leveraged Hogwarts' hosting rights as political capital in the Wizengamot, he had no choice but to tell Severus to fall in line. Perhaps this would make the many parent complaints each year go away as well.

The school's rooms were already having large quantities of equipment checked and replaced. From rickety chairs to ancient blackboards, the school was somehow expected to foot the bill for bringing the school up to 'global standards'. He had protested vehemently until being shown the facilities of the Chinese school, which Lin promised was still ready to host the competition if the smallest issue came up at Hogwarts.

They were definitely in the red, even with the sale of broadcasting rights and sponsorship money. He had been forced to release funds from the school's reserves and auction off various trinkets and artifacts discreetly to make the deficit somewhat manageable, and much of the political capital he gained was expended pressing the ministry into making up the shortfall. There would be tax hikes the following year with the hundreds of thousands of galleons the ministry was pouring into Hogwarts, but in Dumbledore's mind it was a necessary sacrifice to cement Hogwarts' place. The projections for benefits to Hogsmeade alone, not to mention the exorbitant amount of non-recoverable funds sunk into the project, meant that it would take nothing less than a complete collapse of the British ministry to stop their support for this, despite the protests of the dark. Dumbledore had taken much glee in levying a 'one time' wealth tax on the richest in society, which consisted mostly of dark and neutral families.

But perhaps the greatest insult was having to offer up betting rights to the goblins, who would have exclusive rights to organising betting in the events. Dumbledore hated involving the goblins in anything, seeing as they were greedy little buggers that would stir up a ruckus the moment they saw opportunity, yet the ministry was adamant on this as a term for supporting the tournament. Curse Bagman and his debt with those green gremlins.

Looking to the keep of the castle, where the Great Hall was located, there were teams on brooms cleaning the outside with sprays of aguamenti, while others cast varios spells reinforcing the walls and ensuring their structural soundness. Within the castle, teams moved around with similar purpose, fixing the various damaged parts of corridors, floors and the moving stairs.

A knock on his door drew Dumbledore from his musings, and he turned to see his long time ally in the ICW and newly minted head of the ICW Competition Committee Ferdinand De Groot. "Ah, Fred, come in, come in. A cup of tea, perhaps?"

"I'm afraid this isn't for pleasantries, Albus," the man sighed tiredly. "Your potions master is throwing yet another tantrum, this time about replacing cauldrons."

Ferdinand placed one of the iron cauldrons onto the table, gesturing for Dumbledore to look. He did so, and grimaced at the sight of the ruined bottom, as though it were skin with dragon pox, and part of the safety coatings on the side already peeling off.

"I suppose the committee wants them replaced?"

"Yes," Ferdinand sighed sympathetically. "Look, Albus, I know it's not easy, but you knew what you were getting into trying to host such an international tournament. I daresay even the Chinese, with their near unlimited support from their ministry, would face issues. The committee wants to make sure everything is absolutely perfect, already, the cup is being looked over by some charms expert from Cyprus. They've also finalised the proposal for the Great Hall, expansion is underway. They're knocking down both side walls and building outwards, I thought I'd let you know."

"Thank you," Dumbledore forced a pained smile. "And the ward team?"

Another point of contention Dumbledore had been forced to concede. None of the other schools would miss a chance to study the historic wardstone of Hogwarts, under the ostensible justification of security, of course. Already, hundreds of charms had been deemed redundant and removed. While this had undeniably strengthened the wards, Dumbledore couldn't help but feel it a shame that such a historic artifact was being tampered with. Alas, not even Ilvermorny had supported his plea to leave the wards well alone. Truly a shame that his word didn't carry the weight it used to.

"They're just about finished with their work," the man answered smoothly. "Next week, they're going to start construction of the duelling hall, also the Quidditch pitch is going to be brought up to league standards."

"Excellent," Dumbledore smiled benevolently, just as there was another knock on the door. "If that is all?"

"The security chief wants to meet you later today to discuss guard rotations, but that's it," the man shrugged as deputy headmistress Mcgonagall entered the room. She and Ferdinand exchanged nods before he swiftly left the room.

"Minerva," Dumbledore greeted benignly, "what brings you to my office?"

"You still haven't chosen which of the welcoming ceremony acts you want to be performed," Mcgonagall informed him crisply, placing them on his desk. Dumbledore frowned, placing his half-moon spectacles on as he reviewed the three proposals. "Macbeth. It's based in the Isles."

"Excellent, Fillus will get the choir started on the songs, and Helga will organise the cast. And for the Yule ball?" Dumbledore frowned, causing his deputy to sigh as she pulled out yet more stacks of parchment. "Honestly Albus, I know you're busy, but you do need to check your paperwork. I've already been summarising them for you."

"Of course, Minerva," Dumbledore smiled, trying not to show just how tired he was.

-Break-

"Alana," Harry greeted lazily, ignoring the shocked look of his follower, "how are you doing?"

"W-w-oh merlin, what happened? Are you alright?" Alana exclaimed in horror, slamming the door shut and rushing to his side.

"Nothing to worry about, I'm just doing some rune carving," he chuckled, causing her to frown, taking a better look at the exposed bone, trying her hardest not to concentrate on the chunks of flesh scattered on the floor like dropped groceries, or the copious amounts of blood spewing out. "Do cast a bubblehead charm, it helps, or so I'm told."

Woozily, Alana did so, thankfully removing much of the nauseating smell permeating the room. Her head clearer and her shock processed the sight in front of her. "What...exactly are you doing?"

"Most important ones are strengthening, potency and capacitor runes. They'll allow me to tap into my magic more rapidly, basically overriding my body's safeguards." At her confused looks, he chuckled. Imagine a water tank, I've basically widened the pipe leading in and out of it, but not altering the tank itself."

"Ah," she nodded, clearly more comfortable with the analogy, "may I ask why you need to do that?"

"It's far harder to alter the size of the tank than the rate it flows at, because you're not altering a fundamental constant. At any given moment, magical strength is determined by how much magic one can bring to bear. There is the flow rate, tube size and leakages. While a core expansion can increase both flow and size, it is coincidence rather than causation. Increasing the tube size, as you can imagine, can make you punch heavily above your weight, though of course at the expense of burning out your core much faster."

"You're thinking about Grindelwald, aren't you," Alana observed shrewdly. Harry nodded, his hands still slowly carving along his bone as he answered.

"Of course. While eventually my magical core will surpass those of his, he is far from stupid. He knows that every moment passing is another moment closing the advantage he currently enjoys. He's going to try and eliminate me, or if not him, Voldemort," Harry sighed. "This means that I need to find the most expedient methods to increase my ability to survive any future confrontation."

"What runes are you using?" she queried. Harry gestured to a stack of notes on the side, which she picked up, eyebrows moving higher and higher into her hairline as she realised just how many runes he was carving. That he was doing it on himself was all the more impressive. "Ah, you've left your torso open for now?"

"Not needed for now, the torso area is most resonant with my core. I don't want to ruin any future projects in that avenue, and by my calculations, these runes on my limbs should be sufficient for my purposes," he explained, finally finished carving on his humerus bone. Closing eyes, he sucked in a breath as his arm trembled. Alana watched enthralled as tissue began to knit itself together, slowly reforming into an arm, completely unblemished and almost ethereal in its perfection. He smiled at her amazement. "One of the benefits of a particular ritual I underwent. Powerful stuff."

"I've...are you part magical creature?"

"No, alas. If I could choose, I would much like to be an elf of ancient myth, I do think," he chuckled. "You?"

"Veela," she shrugged. "It's so unfair how beautiful they are."

"Really?" Harry looked at her amusedly. "You're already quite beautiful, you know?"

"Perhaps, but hardly outstanding."

"I would think you'd rather be known for your mind than your body. Beauty is as much a curse as it's a blessing, in my mind. Far better to be average, in such a case, no?" Harry pondered as he finished carving on his other arm, and with a shudder, willed his body to fix itself. The process clearly took a toll on him, yet he only paused a moment to take a breath before bending downwards and beginning work on his femur. When he finally finished, he stood up, testing his muscles, and pretending to not notice the slight glazed look Alana held. "Anyways, your turn."

"Say what now?" she blinked.

"You didn't think I just came here to use the facilities, no?" he quirked an amused smile. "I've got a set of runes I want to try with you, combined with the mind arts, I do believe we could achieve something great."

"Oh, can I see?" He nodded, passing over another stack of notes. She flicked through them, growing more and more incredulous. He wanted to carve open her head and engrave runes onto her skull! That was...if it were anyone but him, she would have rejected this immediately, despite the fact she could find no mistake in the rune sets. They were clearly designed to enhance her mental prowess to beyond superhuman levels, essentially channeling magic into her brain. Enhancing the synapse receptors and strengthening the myelin sheaths, essentially meaning her mind would be able to process far more impulses without issues. Combined with his intervention with augmency, this had the potential to supercharge her mind. She was torn between being honoured he trusted her enough to offer this, and guilty that her current mind appeared insufficient to satisfy him. In the end, despite her discomfort at the idea, there was only one answer she could give. "Do it."

"Are you sure?" he asked, a concerned visage on his face. "If you're not comfortable with this, I'm happy to wait."

"No, by your own notes, I'm already nearing my third maturity. This needs to happen now if its effects are to be maximised. Besides, I trust you." He smiled brilliantly at the last part, causing her heart to flutter.

-Break-

"Bartemius Crouch Junior," a smooth voice interrupted, causing the man to shoot up, his wand in his hand. Upon seeing a cloaked figure, he fired off a blasting curse, only for it to be lazily deflected. "Is that any way to greet your lady?"

"M-mistress?" Barty cried out in disbelief, before collapsing to the floor, prostrating himself on his knees. "You have returned! The others believed you were dead, defeated by an infant, but I knew it wasn't possible!"

"Indeed, Barty. You have always been loyal, unlike some others," Voldemort's smile turned into a hiss by the end, causing the man to shudder despite the anger not being directed at him. "Escaping the imperius of your father...most impressive. I daresay even Bella couldn't cast one as strong as the old man."

"All thanks to your teachings, milady!" Barty grinned. "Against Lady Voldemort's power everything else is inconsequential."

"Indeed," she drawled lazily. "Your mind is damaged, Barty. Allow me inside, it is time I fixed that."

Barty felt his mistress' legilimency probe, unusually gentle, guiding fragments back into place. He watched in awe as mental connections he once dismissed as non salvageable fused back together whole. The dull migraine he constantly felt was gone, replaced by a refreshing, spriteful energy. He looked at his mistress in awe.

"Lady Voldemort does not forget those loyal to her," she chuckled. "I have a task for you, but it does require some explanation. Back on that fateful night...it was not Rose Potter that defeated me, but her brother, Harry Potter."

"Bu-impo-forgive me, my lady, of course you would know best."

"That I do," she drawled, inwardly amused at how frightened the man was at getting placed under the cruciatus. But with her new mental stability, Voldemort knew better than to use it as liberally as she once did. "Indeed, imagine my surprise when the world believed it was Rose Potter that was the girl who lived. Yet, I must wonder what Dumbledore knows. No one seems to have any insight as to what happened to the boy, the trail goes cold after him being sent to some muggle house. But...there is a perfect opportunity. The goblet of fire, an ancient artifact that will be responsible for the selection of the champions, its magic mysterious enough to be able to form binding magical contracts upon the insertion of even the smallest slip of parchment with an imprint of magic. I have tried to manipulate the goblet, but until it is lit, it remains too inert to manipulate. Thus, I require you, Barty, to infiltrate the event, and ensure this piece of parchment is entered into the goblet."

She took out a small jewelry box, opening it to reveal a small piece of cloth and a piece of parchment. "Keep it near the cloth, for its resonance is dependent on it. Separated any further, and it may last five minutes before losing the magical print. Enter it into the goblet, and make sure it is selected. It is time to reveal Harry Potter out in the open."

"Yes milady," Crouch resolved. "Your will be done."

"Yes, I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunities to slip yourself in, given your proximity to your father. Await my instruction once you have entered the name, and we shall see what fate delivers."

-Break-

"You are students of Durmstrang. Act like such," Karkoff barked, in what apparently passed for a rousing speech, before storming off to the headmasters' quarters on the ship. Thus, authority once again deferred to Harry, who looked at his gathered followers with a smile.

"My friends, in three days, we will arrive at Hogwarts. In three days, a year of opportunity and trials will begin. You have all trained hard for this, I have seen too much. Be proud of the fact you stand here, when so many of your peers gave up. Be proud that you have not only met, but exceeded by lofty expectations. Be proud that you are now entrusted with our cause, our beliefs and our ideals. But most of all, be proud that you have been empowered to be the best you can be," he congratulated. It was true after all, with the hard work he had placed them through over the summer. Not even Sarah's agents had been drilled this hard, and he was confident that even in defeat, none of their performance would be anything but satisfactory.

"I leave the first two days to your judgement, but the third, we will be completing some final team exercises and doing a final rehearsal before our arrival at Hogwarts. Any questions?"

"No sir," the thirty nine other students chanted, drawing amused looks from the professors still watching them.

"Dismissed," he smiled, walking towards the cabins. Immediately, Katerina and Sarah arrived by his side, flanking him like lieutenants a general.

-Break-

Grindelwald smiled as he looked over a map of Europe. With the ICW's focus so heavily on securing Hogwarts, much of the continent had been left thinly defended. His forces had been harrassed significantly less when they met up in bars or hideouts, with the few auror patrols that remained in France and Germany not daring to launch any major operation with such diminished numbers.

His eyes trailed towards the Balkans, marked in a deep black ink, representing the stronghold of Voldemort's forces. And despite the efforts of the ICW, they had failed to unseat her, a feat even he would find difficult.

The ICW, in their blind fear, had believed that either he or Voldemort would not pass up an opportunity to attack their precious little tournament. His informants had told him of the significant overhaul of the wards, of the stationing of thousands of aurors from various countries, of the protections and charms being layered throughout the castle. Truly, if anyone was stupid enough to commit a frontal assault on Hogwarts, they would find it lived up to its ancient reputation for being impegnetrable to attack, and unyielding fortress.

Thankfully, Grindelwald had little plans to do anything of the sort. He tapped his wand on the map, causing it to shrink, until the entire world was visible. Various coloured dots appeared on the map, though those coloured grey appeared largest. A cluster of dots spanned South America, another in North America, a third in Africa. He had not had great success in Asia, and felt little need to meddle with Oceania, but it was enough. Sponsoring aspiring, power hungry individuals in various countries had earned him significant contacts. They had resources but insufficient experience, and he the opposite. It had created many profitable partnerships, pumping his forces with much needed material and earning allies that he could call on in the future.

Oh it was painful, having to demean himself to these petty individuals, as though they could rival him: the man who nearly conquered Europe. But decades imprisoned had taught him the painful lesson of patience, and so he smiled, nodding along to their grandiose delusions while acquiring the much needed war material for his cause to rebuild.

He tapped his wand, and once again the map zoomed in unto Europe. Grindelwald pursed his lips, deep in thought. He was uncertain what the Dark Lady would do: perhaps she would finally exact her revenge on his supposed framing of her, perhaps she would attempt to attack the tournament, perhaps she would recoup her own diminished strength. Regardless, Grindelwald had only one answer to that.

Looking to the stack of parchment on his desk side, written up by his lieutenants, with detailed war plans. Flicking through, he quilled down several amendments before signing his signature at the last page. Closing his eyes as the papers formed themselves into airplanes and darted out to his secretary, he whispered a soft prayer, before smiling. "Da steppt der Bär."

Author note:

It seems like just a few days ago I was thanking all of you for bringing me to twenty thousand views. Well here we are again, this time with fifty thousand! More excitingly, the follow through rate seems to have increased, which hopefully means there's going to be more fans joining the comments and the discord in the very near future! The excitment continues, as next chapter, we will be starting the tournament arc! I hold equal parts of excitment and dread for that, just imagining up eleven performances for the opening ceremony is going to be mind bending, but we've been about pushing boundaries so far, let us continue in that spirit!

That being said, unfortunately, the next chapter isn't going to come out for a few days. First of all, I need to start touching up on a few older chapters, as much as I shudder to do so. I'm also planning on cross-posting to AO3 so more people can enjoy the story, but that also, alas, takes time. Most relevant, however, is my plan to create more content exclusively for discord! I know one of the best parts of this story has to be the worldbuilding, and of course this makes it hard to keep up. While I have tried to ensure that remembering every piece of lore isn't strictly necessary to enjoy the story, I know many of you have at various points missed somewhat important details, leading to confusion. This is very much my fault, as I can often go on long tangents in the story, something that is both beneficial and harmful. Thus, I'm hoping to begin a collection of notes that will contain details about various bits of magic, character profiles, location briefs and more. As a bonus incentive, there might be hidden titbits that could foreshadow what is to come, or information that otherwise isn't known from the story. Thirty seven of you are already on the server, a massive thank you to each and everyone of you for bringing me such joy having conversations about the story, and here's to hoping many more will come! If you want to join the growing community, use the code: Jew89k8Jp8.

On this chapter's worldbuilding, the names of the various factions. As you will be aware, in canon, there were Death Eaters and Order members. Given the AU nature of the world, we're going to see different names and factions, so here goes:

Grindelwald

Faction: Alliance

Grunts: Collaborationists

Inner Circle: Harbringers

Voldemort

Faction: Reclamation

Grunts: Revanchists

Inner Circle: Knights

Harry

Faction: Flock

Grunts: Believers

Inner Circle: Dreamers

ICW:

Faction: ICW

Supporters: Coalitionists/Confederationists

Dumbledore:

Faction: Order of the Phoenix

Supporters: Order members (for now)

A huge thank you to Speedster from our discord for helping me ideate much of these names. I am pleased to announce he has been gifted with the title 'lore master' for his various contributions, this being the latest among them.

As always, thank you for your support of Harry Potter and the Raven. If you enjoyed, consider following and favouriting. It shows your appreciation for the work that goes into writing a story. Liked something? Disliked something? Just want to say hi? Leave a comment! Your feedback and engagement is always welcome! Otherwise, until next time, toodles!