Joe's Note: This chapter will mention a number of new characters. Some are outright original, while others are me putting names to faces that are unique to the movies. The Williams twins are an example of the latter; Siobhan Ellen Williams plays an unnamed girl in Harry's year that appears in several movies in both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff uniforms. Yes, it's probably supposed to be one character and the costume department messed up… but I figured they'd be a fun way to introduce more much-needed Irish blood into the school and so I fleshed them out as Siobhan and Ellen Williams, a pair of identical twins. But whether their face comes from the silver screen or my brain, I'm the one developing them into characters and so if you'd like to play with them, please let me know first. I just want to be able to come see what you've done with them at some point.
Dedications & Thanks: To Nicholas, Alexander, Howard, Alonsis2, Connor, MJ, Daniel, Christopher, Fablesrogue, Morgan, Janne, Eric, DireSquirrel, Joseph, Jason, mpop, RileyWestfall, bloodylord, Luke, Zachary, Marc, Ziryo, Elliot, Crusifikz70, Timothy, Leigh, Chris, George, Koby, Ken, Dimitria, William, Invernos, Paul, Pat, Joel, Kentucky Fried Dragon, Warren, Mitch, and Jess for sponsoring me on P-treon, and making it easier for me to spend more of my time writing.

June 22, 1996
Gryffindor Tower
Hogwarts, Moray, Scotland, United Kingdom

There was a bit of a celebration when the remaining Gryffindor fifth years finally returned to the tower, four days after the battle at the Ministry. While Hermione was still a bit stiff and a good deal quieter than she usually was, Ron had come to terms with his new scars and would gladly pull up his sleeves to show them off. Most of the boys seemed to agree that they were 'wicked', while the girls tended to be more interested in his grand story of how he'd earned them while bravely fighting off an army of Death Eaters to protect his friends.

Ginny and Neville, on the other hand, had been back since the previous Friday but were just as different. While Neville was a bit more open and relaxed now, probably due to the knowledge that the people who had tortured his parents into insanity were all dead, Ginny was still prone to glaring at Illyria whenever the two were in the same place and hadn't said a word to Harry. She was the only Gryffindor, though, that seemed to have a problem with the newest Lion. Or rather, the only one brave enough to express their feelings in the God-King's presence. For the most part, they avoided the blue-tinged girl who bore a resemblance to their former classmate but who now wore their own colors. Illyria seemed content with that and so nobody else suffered the same fate as Fudge or Snape.

Well, until it came time for bed the night Ron returned.

"…she shares a bed with him, but it's really not as weird as it could be." Strangely enough, it was Seamus who ended up serving as the voice of reason in their dormitory. "It's not like they're shagging or anything. She'll usually just sit at the end of the bed watching him; sometimes she lays there next to him for a bit but moves away as soon as he falls asleep. Seems to keep him from having nightmares, too, which is nice. You get used to it. And learn to change in the bathroom."

Ron huffed and paced back and forth, Illyria's head turning to and fro to follow him. "But I don't want to change in the bathroom! It's my dormitory, I should be able to change here if I want to! And there's no way I'm going to be able to sleep with a girl watching me!"

Snorting, Dean dropped his own clothes on top of his trunk and then climbed into bed. "Sounds like Hermione's going to be in for a fun marriage someday."

"I do not care to gaze upon your naked form, Ronald, and so you may change wherever you wish." Illyria brought her wand up and pointed it at him. "As for being unable to sleep…" She flicked her wand and unleashed a bright red pulse of magic, flinging Ron back onto his bed. With how much power she had at her command, Harry doubted that particular stunner would wear off before sunrise. Tilting her head to one side, Illyria studied the still redhead for a moment before looking around curiously. "Does anyone else require sedation tonight?"

Neville coughed as he came out of the bathroom, stopping by Dean's bed and holding his hand out. Dean groaned and rolled his eyes but surrendered two silver sickles. "I told you that she'd end up cursing him at least once by the end of the night." He then flipped one of the sickles to Illyria, who caught it neatly as Dean and Seamus began to protest.

Watching the scene with amusement, Harry relaxed back onto his bed. Ron would probably complain to Hermione about the rough treatment, who would feel compelled to complain to McGonagall… who was scared of Illyria. Life was good.

June 25, 1996
The Room of Requirement
Hogwarts, Moray, Scotland, United Kingdom

Sitting on the sidelines as Illyria once again twirled around the center space of the stone chamber that she liked to create for herself, Harry cringed as she brought her spear up to jab clean through the chest of one of her constructed opponents. "Okay, so I've been meaning to ask... why a spear?"

Illyria let out a grunt as she tugged the gleaming metal head free of her prey's chest before brandishing it in his direction. "This is a glaive."

Raising his hands in surrender, Harry let out a chuckle as Illyria continued to stare at him for a few more seconds before whirling back into motion. "Alright then, why a glaive? What was wrong with Luna's wand?"

"I can stab people to death with a wand but it is considerably more difficult." Illyria brought the head of her glaive up to cleave through an opponent's neck, kicking his head away so that it rolled to a stop at Harry's feet. "Magical beheadings are less... viscerally pleasing than doing the job myself, as well. Luna's memories included that in the past, witches and wizards of particular renown sometimes used staves. I simply took that concept and improved upon it. I will likely continue to wield Luna's wand on occasion, particularly in confined areas, but I am quite pleased with what I have created for myself."

Harry watched her sweep the legs out from under one of her opponents before twirling her glaive around and bringing the butt smashing across the side of his skull with bone shattering force. It wasn't how he could ever see himself fighting, but to each their own. As long as she didn't ask him to pick up a glaive, he'd quite contentedly watch her use one to lay her foes low. "So... where do we go from here? What's our plan?"

A memory of being blasted across Dumbledore's office flitted through Harry's head followed by a sense of annoyance. "As well read as she was, the knowledge that I've inherited from Luna is... limited. Your headmaster caught me off guard. I do not enjoy that feeling. I need to learn to defend myself more completely against modern magic before your headmaster or Voldemort tries to exploit my perilous few weaknesses." Illyria's irritation and a tinge of an emotion that Harry couldn't quite intuit filtered through their bond. "And you've committed yourself to two weeks at your relatives."

Harry watched in mute admiration as Illyria finished her workout against the golems - similar to what he'd seen from her over the past few days but somehow just the slightest bit more intense - before making his way over to stand behind her and rest his hands on her shoulders. It was odd to be so tactile, both to be touched and to touch another, after how he'd been raised, but he was getting used to it. "Just think of how much fun it's going to be to spend time with my relatives… what with being a magic-using god among very easily scared mortals…"

"I suppose." Illyria leaned back, resting her head against his chest. "I reserve the right to leave you there and go conduct business elsewhere, though, if our new bodyguard meets my standards. I need to go visit Vahla ha'nesh, prepare a wand that will suit you better, and..." She trailed off, the back of her head rubbing against his chest as she tilted it to the side. "I feel like I'm forgetting something. Is that a new limitation of this form? I don't like it."

Well, god-kingly aspirations were fine with him as long as they didn't involve murder, Harry mused. Or at least the murder of anyone not connected to Voldemort. "Not to speak ill of my own kind or anything, but I'm reasonably sure that you're now residing in a significantly less evolved body than you're used to. Some changes are to be expected." As Luna considered that, he bumped his cheek against the top of her head. "What's this about a new wand?"

Illyria pulled away just far enough that she could turn to face him, leaving his arms looped loosely around her shoulders as she peered up at him. "The power that I have granted you will continue to intertwine and merge with your own magical core. By the time that the change is complete, your magical signature will have been altered significantly. Based on what little Luna knows of wand lore, I anticipate that you will need a new focus and have begun preparing accordingly."

Oh. Neat. Harry raised an eyebrow curiously at Illyria. "Does that have anything to do with why you're demanding possession of that piece of wood that you tore off of the headmaster's desk?" Illyria just smirked in reply and Harry shook his head in amusement. "I mean, it's roughly millennia old magically preserved wood. It would definitely make an interesting wand, if nothing else." The two fell into a silence that was somewhat but not entirely comfortable; unlike Hermione, Harry had no problems quietly and peacefully coexisting with another person… but standing around in the Room of Requirement surrounded by the bodies of her fallen - albeit fake - foes was somewhat awkward. "So…"

Continuing to stare up at Harry, Illyria haltingly raised an eyebrow of her own. "Have you given any thought to the matter of other wives yet?"

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief. "I… no? I mean, we've been a bit busy dealing with-"

"You should. Your circle of friends is pathetically small, and neither of the remaining females is suitable for you. If you do not begin forging new ties now, you will be forced to wait until this September to do so." Pulling away from Harry, she turned and waved her hand, conjuring up a semi-familiar brunette in a Hufflepuff uniform in an application of the same spell that she'd cast through him a few days prior to create doppelgängers of his friends in the hospital wing. "In doing so, you would allow easy access to several potential mates to slip through your fingers…"

Snorting, Harry stepped out from behind Illyria and made his way over to stand beside the doppelgänger of Kaitlyn Williams, who was technically still the Head Girl for the next day or so. "No offense, Illyria, but maybe you should stick to trying to throw me at girls that I've actually… okay, we've established that I don't know many. But maybe ones that I've actually said one or more words to in the last five years?" Harry frowned as he tilted his head back. Having never approached Kaitlyn in person in the past, he'd never before had a proper appreciation for exactly how tall she was. "And maybe girls who come up to my eyes, rather than the other way around?"

Illyria tilted her head to the side before nodding and waving her hand again, dismissing the apparition of Kaitlyn. Or was it a construct, similar to what the Room of Requirement could construct? He hadn't tried touching it, or the ones he'd created for his friends. "So your height or preferably shorter? That is a workable requirement, albeit barely so given the effects of your family's poor treatment of you."

Yes, he was short and it probably had something to do with the malnutrition that he'd suffered at the hands of the Dursleys. Thank you for pointing that out, Illyria. Also? "Wouldn't it make more sense to start approaching whoever I choose in the fall? Either way, I'm starting almost from scratch and that way I actually have time to build things up naturally. Not 'hey, I know we've barely spoken but maybe you'd like to go out with me this summer in between when I'm fighting Voldemort and serving the God-King'?"

"I feel that argument is procrastination on your part rather than genuine sentiment. I am not amused." Illyria frowned, staring off into space for a few seconds. Just when Harry thought she was going to give the whole thing up as a bad job, she waved her arm and conjured a half-dozen more girls for Harry's inspection. "What about one or more of them?"

Sighing, Harry decided to just go ahead and humor her. Maybe if he at least pretended to take things seriously for the time being, he'd manage to say whatever she was hoping to hear and she'd drop the matter. A sharp mental jab made him wince in pain and then his eyes widened. Right. Trying to deceive someone who could read his mind wasn't exactly a bright idea. Stepping back, Harry gave the group of girls a once-over and then paused. "Can you bring back Kaitlyn?" The Head Girl made seven when she appeared between him and Susan Bones. "Am I the only one sensing a theme here, Illyria?"

"If you are referring to the fact that they occupy the upper end of the spectrum when it comes to breast size? Then yes." Harry looked back over his shoulder at the bluenette, who offered him an unrepentant shrug before dismissing the constructs of the two older girls. "I can read your mind, Harry. I am quite aware of where your eyes tend to linger when given the opportunity."

Harry blinked before blushing faintly. Oh. Right. This was definitely going to take some getting used to. Returning his attention to the girls, he focused on the six that he hadn't already seen. All of them were from his year, he quickly realized, and they represented all four houses. The sole Gryffindor was the quiet and mysterious Ellen Williams, who was standing next to… a Hufflepuff version of Ellen? How had he never known that she had a twin sister? Then again, Harry had met ghosts who were more talkative than Ellen. For all he knew, Kaitlyn and Ellen and this twin sister of hers might all be related somehow. It was certainly a possibility, given they shared a last name, had similar eye and hair colors, and he knew nothing about any of them.

Shaking his head as he realized exactly how socially isolated he'd been all these years, Harry moved onward to the other Hufflepuff in the group: Susan Bones. The redhead was definitely pretty and - like many of the others - fairly 'gifted' as well, but Harry had a suspicion that Illyria had ulterior political motives in suggesting the niece of the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. After her came Morag MacDougall of Ravenclaw, a lovely Scottish brunette he'd worked with increasingly regularly in Care of Magical Creatures thanks to Hagrid's fondness for paired work coupled with Ron's tendency to gravitate toward Hermione so that he wouldn't have to do as much work. She was several centimeters shorter but significantly more energetic and outgoing, leaving him feeling simultaneously both large and small around her, and was deceptively strong for her size. And while she was easily the smallest-chested member of the sextet, 'small' was a relative term in the group's case. Last but certainly not least were a pair of… "Slytherins?"

"Please do not behave like Ronald, Harry." Illyria closed the distance between them, sidling up on his right and wrapping one arm around his as she gestured to the two girls in question with the other. "Their house comprises of at least a quarter of the wizarding world. While you might be willing to overlook them due to childish prejudice, I am not. Especially when they control a disproportionate percentage of the wizarding world's wealth, property, and political power." Harry looked down at her, blinking owlishly, and she sighed. "They are more likely to be rich and powerful - and therefore useful to us - than members of any other house."

Ah. Not that he particularly minded Slytherins, outside of a select few whose behavior earned his ire. Harry had just been surprised by their inclusion, since he interacted with members of that house the least. Then again, given he would be building any of these potential friendships-turned-romances from scratch… did it really matter? Racking his brain, he tried to remember the register from his last core class with Slytherins. "…Daphne Greengrass? And Tracey Davis?"

Illyria nodded before gesturing to the latter. "I know you do not respect divination because you do not possess the Sight and therefore it is of limited use to you. Tracey, on the other hand, is a seer. While my control of space and time allows me to step into the future and view it, she can glimpse it in the here and now. Therefore she - and her children - would be of great use to me. And Tracey and Daphne are half-sisters, meaning the same potential might flow through Daphne's veins as well."

"…and now we're back into the realm of strange and awkward." Harry sighed and took advantage of the presence of Tracey's doppelgänger to give her the sort of thorough inspection he'd never dare to in person. She was just the slightest bit shorter than him, with olive green eyes and mahogany hair that was pulled into a simple ponytail at the base of her skull. And now that he knew to look, he could definitely spot common features that she shared with Daphne, like the same hawkish nose. His eyes drifted south a bit, figuring that he might as well since Illyria was quite obviously aware of his physical preferences when it came to the fairer sex. It was a heck of a view. As best he could tell, Tracey was the bustiest of the six classmates Illyria had conjured for his perusal, quite possibly the biggest currently at Hogwarts. Her breasts weren't the only things she had going for her, though; while her figure could technically be described as 'average', it was an attractive average. She was neither too thin nor too heavy, with… Harry leaned in and peeked over her shoulder. Yes, she had a very nice arse indeed to go with her large chest and the 'child-bearing hips' that Illyria kept whispering about in the back of his mind. So to recap… he thought Tracey was hot, he couldn't reject her on the grounds of personality conflict since he didn't even know her, and Illyria approved of her albeit for entirely inappropriate reasons. "All right, fine. If I promise to try and talk to Tracey on the train ride home, will you drop the whole 'other wives' thing for now?"

After pondering that for a few seconds, Illyria shook her head. "You will not 'try' to speak with Tracey. You will speak with her, and a minimum of two other girls. Other than Hermione and Ginevra, that is. And secure a first date with one of the three."

Harry scoffed at that. "I barely know Susan and Morag, and don't know the other four at all. Other five if you count Kaitlyn. Any girl who'd agree to a date that quickly isn't the kind of girl you want me bringing home." His mind whirled, trying to come up with a counteroffer that she might actually agree to. "What if I talk to four new girls - meaning any girl who's not Ginny or Hermione, not just ones from this group - ask at least one if I can owl her this summer… and ask whoever I'm writing if they want to meet me in Diagon Alley for shop for school supplies when we get next year's supply list?"

"…owl two of them."

"Two but I only have to invite one to meet me for shopping."

"Acceptable."

June 26, 1996
The Hogwarts Express
Somewhere Between Hogsmeade and London

"So you say you were alive before the rise of human civilization… but can't prove it?"

"Correct. By my best ability to match my own existence with Luna's knowledge of human timekeeping? I was entombed somewhere around… approximately 200,000 BCE, just as your species was starting to evolve in its present state. I doubt anything from that period survives, at least among humankind."

"Building from that point… if you can't even prove you existed then? Then how can you prove you were a god then, much less now?"

Illyria leaned forward from her spot on Harry's lap, fingers spreading wide as she reached for Hermione's head. "Before my fall, I used to live seven lives at once. If you wish, I could take you as my second shell to prove my power?"

"No thank you!" Hermione flinched back, practically climbing on top of Ron to get away from Illyria's outstretched hands. Ron didn't look too particularly upset about that arrangement, Harry noted with a faint smile. "As much as it pains me to say it, I suppose I can accept your claims without real proof to back them up…"

Wrapping his arms around Illyria's waist, Harry pulled her back against him to reassure Hermione a bit. The second real encounter between his friends and Illyria was going a bit better than the first. Ron had managed to avoid making a fool of himself - at least so far - and while Hermione was pestering Illyria with questions, he'd expected that and prepared the Old One for the eventuality. After all, Hermione hated a mystery and Illyria was probably the biggest mystery she'd ever encounter. Illyria seemed tolerant enough, though… at least for the moment.

Ginny, on the other hand, was whiling away her time working on a quiz in The Quibbler, pausing every now and then to glare at Illyria over the top of it. Neville was sitting next to the redhead petting the Mimbulus mimbletonia he'd arrived at school with, which was now substantially bigger and making an odd crooning noise. "Your plant says you are a good master." Illyria cocked her head to the side and crooned back at the plant, which inspired it to become even noisier in return. "If you gave it more potassium, though, it would flourish even more."

"Really? I thought I was going all right by it, but… you're evidently the one that talks to plants. Thanks." Neville and Illyria seemed to actually get on the best out of any of his friends, Harry realized. Probably because Neville took Illyria at face value and didn't try to analyze her, probe her, or reject her. She was there, he treated her like any other student in the school, and that was that.

Looking out the window into the hallway, Harry saw Cho pass by with Marietta Edgecombe at her side. The latter was wearing a blue and bronze striped headband, presumably to hide the aftereffects of Hermione's spell. His eyes met Cho's for just a moment before she ducked her head and sped up. Ron coughed, drawing Harry's attention back over to the redhead, who had shed his Hermione-shaped lap warmer. "What's… err… what's going on with you and her, anyway?"

Harry turned back to find the other occupants of the compartment staring at him. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing." He curled the fingers of his right hand into a fist, feeling the weight of Illyria's rings even though they were no longer visible. That weight, slight as it was, was a constant reminder of his bond to Illyria even when she wasn't present. Well, physically present at any rate. She was always mentally present, foreign emotions and thoughts drifting into his head as she reacted to whatever he was doing.

"I hear she's going out with someone else now." Hermione looked a bit nervous as she delivered that news, which made Harry snort. Was he supposed to care? Did they not remember that in the last week or so, he'd lost his godfather and bonded himself to an insanely powerful demonic being? What Cho was doing… it wasn't even the least of his problems these days, it was a total non-issue.

At that point, Harry decided to tune them out. The absolute last thing he needed at this point was more people trying to meddle with his personal life. Illyria was already bad enough in that regard… and he really needed to get up and start making the rounds if he was to have any hope of fulfilling the promise he'd made to her earlier. But seriously, given that Ron had the emotional depth of a teaspoon, Ginny's idea of a major relationship problem was disagreeing about quidditch, and Hermione's only date had come about because Viktor wanted the one girl at Hogwarts who didn't want him? He really didn't need their 'help'.

Illyria gave him a mental jab before clearing her throat, and Harry pulled his attention back to the real world just in time to hear her speak. "You both amuse me. Ronald, you attempt to encourage Harry to date your sister even though it would strain your friendship with him. Ginevra, you date others in an attempt to make Harry jealous. Have either of you thought about the fact that I stay in his bed and am in contact with him physically as often as possible? Including right now?"

"Err, I thought it was part of this whole god-king and servant thing of yours? Harry told me you stayed in his bed because you were guarding him." Ron's ears were starting to turn a bit red, just like when he'd seen Harry's Firebolt or a number of other occasions where Harry had something he didn't. "You mean you two are..?"

"Essentially married. That is the most concise way to describe the bond between a Qwa'ha Xahn and Old One in modern terms, Ronald." Illyria ran her hand over Harry's, making the band on his ring finger visible again. "The more closely I examine Luna's memories, the more certain I am that the magical bond now linking us is enough to classify us as married in the eyes of the Ministry; I am still debating as to whether or not we should indulge in a proper service at some point." Swiping her finger over Harry's ring, she returned it to its invisible state. "This conversation illustrates a very real problem: you do not truly know Harry and yet you wish to meddle in his affairs anyway. Any other woman attempting to share his life would have to be able to deal with my role in it… and require my approval."

Hermione's brow was furrowed, a sure sign that her mind was in overdrive as she thought Illyria's words over. Ron was growing a bit redder with every passing moment, but strangely enough it was Ginny who looked the most put-out about the situation. "You're married? And you never thought to tell us?!"

Well, given that it had happened while they were either busy or unconscious at the Ministry? And he'd been busy ever since with Illyria, the end of term, and planning for his future? "Illyria and I talked about it last Thursday and then again this morning. In between… I guess it slipped my mind." Harry looked around at his friends curiously. Why was everyone freaking out? It wasn't like he'd married them off to a demon, after all. "It's not like it changes anything, does it?"

Jumping up out of her seat, Ginny put her hands on her hips as she glared down at him. "Of course I'd want to know that you're married! Of course it changes things! Even your demonic god-king-wife-thing was smart enough to realize that I like you. Boys are just so… urgh!" Pulling out her wand, she jabbed it at him. "Bates mocos!"

Illyria's wand was in her hand before she could react and a pale blue shield sprung into existence around them, deflecting whatever spell Ginny had cast back onto her. The redhead began to shriek as her bogies wriggled out of her nose, growing to giant proportions before attacking her face. Hmm. The infamous Bat-Bogey Hex, if Harry wasn't mistaken.

"Hey!" Ron shot upright, making Hermione grunt in pain as she was slammed against the window. "Nobody's allowed to hex my sister except me! And… maybe my brothers!" His own wand came out at that point, his draw so slow that Harry probably could have had Illyria off his lap, his own wand out, and a spell or two off before Ron was ready. "Vescori lum…"

Jabbing her wand at the redhead, Illyria unleashed a familiar red spell. Ron hit the back wall of the compartment before sliding back down onto the bench, tipping over onto Hermione. Harry sighed and shook his head. 'Must you be so violent?' If Ron got cursed every time he pitched a temper tantrum… either he was going to end up a much better person through Illyria's version of therapy, or Harry would end up short a friend. He honestly wasn't sure which one he was rooting for at this point.

'Yes. He annoys me.'

"Of all the stupid…" Hermione grunted and shoved Ron off of her, sending the redhead spilling onto the floor at her feet. At some point Ginny had fainted or passed out or something, and was slumped sideways a bit to lean on Neville, who was acting like nothing out of the ordinary was going on. Then again, the way spells flew in the Gryffindor common room during the school year, this probably wasn't anything out of the ordinary to him. Hermione ran her fingers through her hair, trying to coax it back into some semblance of order. "You don't use a verbal component for your spells, do you? I've never heard of that. We use Italic, I know Viktor mentioned most of the spells he used were Slavic-derived, and I have a book of Oriental magic that uses Old Chinese…"

Illyria nodded and gestured to the space around her. "You do realize that my magical education predates even the earliest human language, correct?" Hermione made a vaguely affirmative noise. "Therefore naturally my spells would not be the same as what you know. If Luna's memories of talking to older students is correct, you'll learn next year that magic is about intent and power rather than spoken words. Given that the last time I used verbal casting was far before your tongues evolved, it is easier for me to cast silently than to attempt to figure out what combination of utterly alien words I should use to blend in with your society."

Bloody hell, that made his head hurt. "I'm going to go… do that thing. That we talked about earlier." Illyria waved him off and Harry made his escape as Hermione started babbling away again in words far too big for him to understand.