Elune's Pebble

by Tendragos

HP/Warcraft crossover with no knowledge of Warcraft needed. Harry in his 5th year could have used a few friends with actual combat experience. A lot of folks on Azeroth during Cataclysm would have been better off anywhere else. If you think HP cannon needed more Dragons, this is the fic for you! Features HP/HG/? Ship and a Cursed!Dumbledore.

41. Chapter 41: The Return and Departure

I'm back with another chapter of Elune's Pebble! I'd been sitting on about half of this chapter and just could not get it written for the life of me.

Anyway, a big thank you to my betas who helped me iron out the kinks and shape the chapter into something better!

And thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I read and treasure every review!

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Chapter 41: The Return and Departure of Albus Dumbledore

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

When the command came, Ron Weasley eagerly spearheaded the force that charged into the Ministry in Harry's wake and began sweeping it one room at a time. Between his shield, armor, and the Light, nothing could touch him. Those who chose not to surrender either got their teeth knocked out from a strike with his shield or fell to the stunners of the group behind him. Like the rest of the team he'd been assigned to, Ron had watched Harry's progress thanks to a scrying spell. What shocked Hogsmeade's militia wasn't the raw power he displayed, (well, wasn't only the raw power) but the control and restraint. Despite facing over two hundred wizards before he'd even reached the Ministry's front door, Harry hadn't killed anyone. Sure, there were some injuries, but compared to the spells the Fudge's goons had been throwing at him?

Four hours later when the last prisoners were taken the first casualty list came in. Thanks to Harry directly breaking the enemy force and the superior numbers, organization, and training of the Hogsmeade militia, there were only twenty-six deaths that day. Every one of those had died when one desperate fool or another lost control of Fiendfyre.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

By the time the sun was nearing the western horizon, Ron was feeling nervous in a way that he hadn't been as they toppled Fudge's Ministry. Right now he was walking with his brother Bill to the apparition point in Diagon. After the Ministry was secure curse-breakers had been called in and he'd spent the day making conversation with his brother as the work of ferreting out the Ministry building's every secret and hidden danger went forward. His older, but no longer bigger brother had picked up on Ron's nerves and started needling him about them. "What's the matter Ron? Nervous about meeting the family again?"

Ron replied. "You could say that. How's Fleur doing? I didn't see her at the Estate."

"She's moved in with me in the castle. Mom wasn't happy about that, and even less happy when we eloped. The Headmaster performed a small ceremony with just the three of us. Poor Mom wanted us to have a big ceremony at the Burrow."

"You should have just told her you wanted the ceremony just between the two of you, then offer to let her throw a wedding reception. That's what I'm going to do."

Bill stopped walking and gaped at his younger brother. "What! You're married?"

Ron smirked, and spent a moment removing the gauntlet from his left hand. When he'd finally gotten it off, he showed his eldest brother his wedding band with a gleaming orange stone in the center. "Jeweler tried to talk me out of splitting the stone in half for two wedding bands. Lava Coral is so rare he wanted to keep it whole. Splitting the gem halved the magic it can store, but with the mithril-eternium band the rings are still useful and elegant."

Bill let out a whistle as Ron slipped his glove back on and they continued on their way. "I've never seen a stone that color before or even heard of 'Lava Coral.' Not even in the shipments Miss Greengrass purchased on Azeroth. I've been using some of those gems, metals, and stone to bolster the wards protecting Hogwarts and Hogsmeade."

Ron replied. "It's a very rare stone. I just saw the color and imagined it on Samaara's hand and I knew it was time to propose."

Bill laughed as they finally reached the apparition point.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Bill was terribly amused when they appeared just outside Hogsmeade; Samaara had rushed her husband and laughed as Ron spun her around in a circle. As part of Hogwarts' staff and one of Harry's oathsworn, Bill recognized the young woman as a Draenei, a long-lived and powerfully magical race. While he was happily married himself he could admit to himself that she was beautiful in her own way, though he still thought Fleur was far more beautiful, trapped as a Harpy or not. They certainly act like newlyweds, he thought to himself as Samaara gave Ron a blistering kiss. Ron spoke up, interrupting Bill's thoughts. "How was your day? I know you were planning to spend it with Yrel, you can bring her with us if you want."

Samaara snorted. "She left this morning. She's now helping Lord Potter come to terms with his 'growth spurt.' But I don't mind. We spent yesterday together and we will have years to catch up now. I'm just so glad to have her back! I thought she died a hero at Karabor and mourned her, but the hurt never really went away. Just knowing she's alive and well makes all the trials since worthwhile."

Ron smiled broadly. "So she finally took the plunge? I heard she's been considering becoming Harry's consort for months. What pushed her over the edge?"

"I don't know. So are you ready to introduce me to your family?"

Ron was still clearly nervous, so Bill said nothing when Ron and his wife left for Hogsmeade's market to stall for time. He did send out a messenger Patronus however. "Fleur, you should come to the Burrow tonight. Ron's got a surprise that should be entertaining if nothing else."

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

The sun was setting as Ron rode to his family home on his gallant charger with his wife's arms wrapped around him. Like many other family homes, the Burrow itself and the Weasley-owned lands had been moved to the residential district of Hogsmeade for protection. A Dwarven construction crew had spent two days working with Arthur and Bill to build an addition for the house and strengthen its frame. (The Burrow still looked like no other home, but with solid stone supporting the uneven wooden structure it was no longer one 'Finite' away from disaster.) Even the pond had moved, and one of Harry's Naga had overseen its expansion and stocked it with species of fish that would thrive in Scotland. Inside the Burrow Ginny was the first one to see the warhorse in glinting golden armor, painted fiery orange by the setting sun, and its two passengers approach. Every Weasley had already gathered by then, and rushed out to greet their prodigal son.

Molly wasn't far behind her daughter, but she paused when the equine turned its gaze on her. But a moment later a man with Weasley red hair had dismounted and helped the blue horned woman off and the assembled redheads (and Fleur) goggled when the horse dispersed into motes of golden light when the man who must be Ron stopped touching it. Everyone looked at the near stranger for a moment, their first thought that Ron had grown. He was a little taller than Bill now, and much more broad. (Ron's brothers suddenly found themselves jealous of their younger brother, his muscles had muscles.) He'd obviously taken a few moments to remove his armor, since he was wearing a finely-tailored silk shirt and pants in a style obviously from the other side of the portal and comfortable brown leather boots. Ron's face had matured with the rest of him and bore a few thin scars from where something with sharp, narrow claws had gone for his eyes.

But it was the look in his eyes and the way he held himself that had changed the most. Gone was the awkward teenager desperate to escape his brother's shadows, gone was the boy who coveted Harry's fame. The Ron that stood before his family was confident and self assured like only a blooded warrior truly is. This was a Ron that had made peace with himself, had chosen to walk a difficult path, fully aware it would refine him in the same way a smith refined raw gold, melting out impurities and hammering it into a pleasing shape. This was a Ron that had looked evil in the eye and learned how to plant his feet, square his shoulders, brace his shield, and spit in its face. This was a Ron who had left Earth a boy and returned as a man. And as his family would begin to discover after dinner, this was a Ron who had stories. Tonight and many other nights Ron would use a borrowed pensieve to tell the story of a boy who'd gone to Azeroth in search of his own path, and returned as Ron 'The Wall on Which Evil Breaks' Weasley. For years the men and women he'd fought alongside had simply called him 'The Wall.'

There were some hiccups as he reunited with his family, Molly was not exactly pleased with Ron's wife. By the end of the night however, even Molly had to admit that Samaara was a skilled healer and worthy companion for her son; memories of their exploits on the Sunwell Plateau against the Burning Legion or in Northrend against the Scourge provided proof that Samaara had watched her son's back and healed his wounds. Seeing a demon as large as a small mansion charge her son was terrifying, but the way he planted his feet, raised his shield, and turned his conviction into the power he needed to draw a line in the sand... She was horrified at the dangers he'd braved, but she'd never been more proud of the man Ron had become.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Daphne Greengrass was grateful one of the newer Dragonkin had been nearby when she was trying to get into the Chamber of Secrets. She was really looking forward to seeing Astoria, but the girl hadn't been able to get away from her apprenticeship yesterday when Daphne had made it home; some kind of emergency had come up. Catching up with her parents had been wonderful, and her father's gob-smacked expression when she'd revealed her share of the loot from Azeroth had made a wonderful memory. But it wasn't like she could blame her father; mithril was rare enough to be legendary on Earth, but it was much more common on Azeroth. Her expanded trunk with hundreds of mithril bars meant it was time for the Potter Dragonflight to start selling them off before the market tanked.

After sleeping in her childhood bedroom the previous night, Daphne was determined to reconnect with her sister. Her father Cyrus had looked completely healthy for the first time in over a decade and even though he told her Astoria was even more improved, she still had to see it with her own eyes, had to be certain her little sister was healthy. After the friendly Black Dragonkin in human form (the dark hair and orange eyes gave away his Flight) opened the inner door Daphne thanked him and began her search by asking the curious whelps that fluttered up to her, eager to meet someone new. Eventually the whelps led her to a Dragonspawn who eventually escorted Daphne to the Hatchery cube and granted her access, but only after Daphne revealed her Potter's mark. While usually she would have considered that level of caution paranoia, after all the stolen eggs Harry had recovered she could understand.

She eventually found Astoria and their mother sitting in a comfortable transfigured recliner with her little sister sound asleep and her mother singing a soothing lullaby to the eggs around them. Daphne didn't understand at first, but her mother explained in a whisper while she sipped some tea that after all the stress these eggs had gone through they were in danger of hatching early, possibly prematurely enough that no healing technique could save them. To prevent that, she and Astoria had been taking turns singing them back to sleep inside their eggs. So Daphne tapped the recliner with her wand to widen it, cleared her throat, and began singing a simple nursery song to give her mother a break. It was… nice, sitting here so peacefully with her mother and her little sister, even if Astoria was exhausted from her apprenticeship.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Since the day she'd met Harry, Onyxia, former Broodmother of the Black Dragonflight, felt she'd done quite well for herself. Her Lord had not only spared her and her clutch from the death coming for her, he'd also saved her servants who were responsible for taking care of her eggs. Her loyal Dragonspawn had grown skilled in hatchery work by necessity, since she was constantly busy usurping power in Stormwind. Ah… the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Now she was sitting in the ICW chambers on a world not her own, sworn to follow a human child who was growing into a true Dragon Aspect, and working to overthrow the hidden magical communities of Earth using the guise of Lady Katrana Prestor once again. True, that wasn't exactly what she'd been commanded to do, but it was the goal she was working towards anyway. Certainly, she did not know Harry Potter as well as some of the other oathsworn but with very few exceptions she knew these competing countries would offend his sense of Justice. It didn't hurt that these wizards were so obsessed with their supposed superiority over all other beings that they would not, could not, leave Hogsmeade or Britain alone when the world learned about the many varied species Lord Potter had rescued that dwarfed England's population of magical humans. Idle thoughts of the Potter Dragonflight's Aspect tearing the Golden Khanate down brick by corrupted brick was all that kept her from beginning the slaughter herself as she listened to their representative drone on, presenting a mask of nobility while his country drowned in sacrificial magic. Even the man speaking before the assembly now in golden robes reeked of lives forcibly taken.

Still, she was here for a reason. Unlike during her time on Azeroth, she now served a good man and it was imperative that all these fools have no excuse when they struck like the vipers they are. Her job was to distract and subvert them until her Lord was prepared, just like how they had minimized the damage done by the Ministry and struck only when their strength was gathered and victory was assured. It was comforting that the Lord she now served refused to waste lives. As the pompous man's speech continued on and on, she rolled her shoulders. Today was the day that Fudge would be brought to Justice and his Ministry would fall, in fact the attack should have begun earlier, before the morning session. With the time difference, she should be getting confirmation of their victory at any time now. Say what you will about the International Confederation of Wizards, but the Caribbean island they'd purchased for their headquarters was even more lavish and luxurious than the royal chambers of Stormwind Keep.

As if summoned by her thoughts, one of her aides entered the meeting hall and made his way directly towards her. If I wasn't courting Vaelastrasz this one would make an enjoyable diversion. Her inner monologue derailed for a moment. When did I start finding humans attractive? I hope those years in Stormwind didn't give me a human-fetish… The Broodmother paused for a moment as she reflected on the directions her amorous thoughts had taken since leaving Azeroth. I blame Bolvar, she grumbled to herself before turning her attention to her aide. While aides were allowed to interrupt the chamber while it was in session, it was considered to be in very poor form. The speaker in golden robes trailed off as a murmur built in the grand chamber. Without a word, her aide handed her an enchanted folder, but his expression told her everything she needed to know. Still, for appearance's sake if nothing else, she quickly flipped through the details of the battle and her instructions going forward. A moment later, she stood and requested permission to take the floor. As the representative of a provisional member, technically she had the lowest priority for speaking rights, but this was a very slow day and the Supreme Mugwump (a newly elected American) looked desperate for something to break the monotony.

Once recognized, Onyxia smiled and embraced her Prestor persona. With a confident stride, she gathered up her documents in her left hand and her ever-present silver staff in her right and left her desk, moving towards the one person she hated most in the entire chamber. "I have momentous news, fellow representatives. A great event has taken place in Britain this morning."

Letting the expectation build, Onyxia came to a stop in front of the most foul human she'd ever met. "As of this morning, the British Ministry of Magic is defunct. In a nearly bloodless battle, the Ministry's last stronghold was breached and its defenders captured. Cornelius Oswald Fudge was caught attempting to flee and will be tried for crimes against Britain at the convenience of our Lord."

Oh, how the Broodmother relished the shock on Umbridge's toad-like face. How a few simple words turned her whole world upside down. Onyxia continued to smile at Delores as the meeting hall erupted into chaos, and continued to do so even as the Supreme Mugwump brought it back to order and spoke directly to her. "Assuming you are correct, may it please this body to know the identity of the 'Lord' to which you refer?"

Still looking at this monster who joyfully tortured children, Lady Prestor replied. (And yes, even to her Umbridge was a monster. Even as a slave to dark gods Onyxia hadn't stooped so low. Her talons were not clean, but she had never tortured children.) "I understand your concern, Supreme Mugwump, but please put your fears at ease. Britain has not fallen under the rule of Lord Voldemort or any other Dark Lord. I and many others serve a good man with a strong sense of Justice, his Lordship Harry Potter." Oh, how she relished the fear that blossomed on Delores' face at hearing that. "I have one last announcement to make if it pleases this august body, Supreme Mugwump."

"Please continue, Lady Prestor."

"Dolores Umbridge is hereby under arrest. She will be tried in Hogsmeade in one week on charges of murder and the torture of children. Our Lord has a… personal stake, in ensuring swift justice in this case." When the repulsive woman took in a deep breath to spew more hate, like she'd done every time the two interacted in the last few months, Lady Prestor made a slight gesture with her staff and the woman was silenced and restrained in pitch black rope before she began. Leaning close, Lady Prestor spoke in her ear.

"You shouldn't have lashed out at your betters, Toad." In a louder voice, she continued as she turned to address the hall once more. "I welcome all of you to confirm my claims, but please do not attempt to violate our borders. While this change of government was nearly bloodless, I do not guarantee any attempts to violate our sovereignty will be so clean."

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Five days after the fall of the Ministry, Harry paused to enjoy the afternoon sky; his magenta scales drinking in the sunlight as he 'reclined' on his back. The weather was warm, sunny, and pleasant with only a few clouds in the sky. His appreciation of the weather was abruptly cut off when Ralion's large and heavy form crashed to the ground beside him. Letting out a groan, Harry rolled over and hoisted himself upright. Vordistrasz, the Red wyrm who had been injured when the Flamels were still teenagers, was standing in front of him with a smirk on his face. It wasn't easy to tell, but Harry knew it was there. He'd spoken with Vordistrasz for the first time this morning and explained the situation on Azeroth to the frustrated dragon, and ended up promising the dragon he could accompany him back to Azeroth in a week. Even Vordistrasz himself didn't know if he would be staying on Azeroth, but he was determined to see the world of his birth once more and report the results of his mission to the Dragonqueen if nothing else. Personally, Harry hoped he would stay on Earth, but he could admit that was mostly because he didn't want to lose the Flamels. Alchemists of their skill did not grow on trees, after all.

Then Vordistrasz had asked Harry who had been training his adult dragons in how to fight, since combat as a dragon was vastly different from fighting as a small, agile, and fast drake. Vordistrasz had healed and regained his strength and the carefully implanted and nurtured donations of flesh from Aurogos had altered his magic enough to free his mind. Still, as Harry charged his impromptu combat instructor, he found himself grouching a little as the wyrm exploited a weakness in his stance, disrupted his balance, and threw him to the ground with his tail. Fighting as a dragon was forcing him to unlearn most of the habits he'd learned while learning to use Hadrion's lithe drake form to its fullest. And it wasn't even just direct combat, he needed to learn how to fall without injuring himself and how to shift his weight in different situations. Speaking of, that was not the correct way to fall. Valistrasza took a break from corralling her whelps (this was a good opportunity for them to get fresh air and see the adults at work) to force the primary joint in his left wing back into its socket. Without numbing the pain first. ("Think of this as a reason to improve quickly, my Lord.") Harry let out a roar and forced himself upright, focusing on his balance before charging back in. I need to learn this. I need to learn this and somehow Vordistrasz is the only adult dragon on Earth that's been trained in physical combat.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

The next morning, Harry groaned as he woke. After yesterday he felt like one enormous bruise; even with the last of his 'growth spurt's' hormones flowing through him he'd had to skip the more pleasant forms of exercise after coming off the training field. At least the combat training had been fruitful; by the time the sun set he wasn't getting his ass kicked nearly as badly as when he'd started. Cirmu had joined in the 'fun' since she hadn't practiced hand-to-hand (well, talon-to-talon really) combat since Harry's alchemical ritual. Opening his eyes, he noted the three-headed dragon resting across the bedroom with both her wings in slings; apparently her new form made her lighter and faster at the cost of some durability. This was the first time since overthrowing the Ministry that he'd slept in Potter Manor; the four days and nights since growing into a dragon had been spent inside a cube with his consorts and the two Broodmothers who'd joined them. I will have fond memories of those four days as long as I live. Also, possibly some children. Well at least I know Desperiona and Valistrasza won't mind having my children, Broodmothers without a mate on Azeroth often just have clutches with their Aspect or their Aspect's male consorts. Still, I'll offer both of them rooms here in my home. Even if draconic culture doesn't have the same expectations of me as a father, I can't imagine not having some part in any of my children's lives.

As Harry slipped out of the large bed he paused for a moment to gently run his fingers through Yrel's white hair. She stirred but didn't wake and Harry smiled as he slipped into the bathing area for a hot shower. While Harry and the others who'd sailed the Glamdring out of the Void had been waiting for the complicated array responsible for sending them home to charge, Harry had spoken to Yrel often and been frank with her about what things would be like if she wanted to join his family. She'd been hesitant to accept his offer, but apparently the time spent with her sister or meeting his other consorts had convinced her to join them. Who am I kidding? My sneaky Green consort has wanted to give me a harem since she swore the Loyal Lord Oath. If she tries to add any more I'll have to put my foot down, Alira and Hermione were enough for me, with Cirmu and Yrel joining us now I don't need anyone else. As he stepped under the warm stream of water, Harry groaned as it soothed his bruised muscles.

Yesterday he'd started swearing in the enormous backlog of rescued individuals and even though his experience with the Loyal Lord Oath Ritual allowed him to swear in seven new oathsworn at once, emptying the stasis chambers stored at Potter Estate would still take months. While Harry had saved many lives on Azeroth and Draenor, it seemed as if his oathsworn had saved just as many without him. Every sentient species was represented, someone had even collected Harpies and Azeroth's Centaur. Azeroth's Harpies had become cruel and bloodthirsty (admittedly, more cruel and bloodthirsty) when Aviana, the Ancient who had birthed their race died during the War of the Ancients. Something had broken in them when Aviana died. Still, Harry had access to excellent researchers and alchemists so there was every chance something could be done for them. Azeroth's Centaur were barely sapient, immensely violent cannibals that built nothing, invented nothing, and grew nothing who simply raided others for food, supplies, and everything else. Harry had no idea what to do with the hundreds of them in stasis other than give them simple tasks as farmers.

By the time Harry finished his shower and was drying off, he saw three of his four consorts stirring. I know I love Alira and Hermione deeply, and I'm already very fond of Cirmu and Yrel. Each of them is different from the others, and I love them for different reasons. Hermione was my closest friend for a long time, even though she was bossy, ever since the Troll having her in my life, at my side, just feels right. I love her intelligence and compassion. Alira is devoted to me, but she's also a sneaky drake when she wants to be; definitely would have been sorted into Slytherin. She's zealous in the love and affection she gives, how could I not reciprocate in turn? Cirmu is someone I left my mark on as I was saving her life, and perhaps she did the same to me in turn? Cirmu's trust in me is so absolute it's utterly humbling. There is literally nothing I could do to destroy that bond short of killing her; and that isn't something I will ever do. Our relationship started out as something purely physical, a gift freely given to me when I was missing Alira and Hermione, but we bonded; she's as eager to have my children as Alira. Yrel can be shy and bashful, but there's a passion, Fire, a powerful sense of Justice lying just under the surface. I think what attracted me most was the way that when her world was falling apart and she had the choice to survive or throw her life away to buy desperately needed time for others, she didn't hesitate, just threw herself into the carnage. Yrel's choices and Fire drew me in, like a moth. She decided to live or die for the sake of others long before that battle, after all she'd been training as a priestess, a healer, for years by then. Is it odd that three of my four consorts are trained or training as healers? Does that say something about me?

Harry had paused as he was dressing to watch Alira as she tried to tempt him to spend another day in bed. He chuckled, quietly not to wake Hermione, who was still soundly asleep or Cirmu who was enjoying the effects of a rather strong pain potion and could use extra rest. "I wish I could Alira, but there's too much to do. You'll have to wait for tonight." Harry glanced at Yrel who was just blinking the sleep out of her eyes. "Yrel, this afternoon we're starting the discussion for the new legal code for Britain, would you like to join me for that meeting?"

Yrel's sleepy eyes focused and she replied quickly. "Yes, but I don't know what I could offer…"

Harry smiled at her and stepped away from the dresser to gently cup her face. "I'd like you there even if you just whisper thoughts into my ear. This will only be the first discussion of many; hammering out fair laws won't be easy or fast. Breakfast should be up in a few moments."

Only a few moments later, Harry and his consorts (save Cirmu who was still sleeping off a bone-knitting potion) were eating breakfast at the private table in Potter Manor's family wing. Thanks to the way the house was divided, each section (Family, Oathsworn, and Guest) had their own kitchen and dining area, as well as a larger shared space. As they ate, everyone discussed their plans for the day. Alira would be heading to the Hatchery to help out wherever she can, eager to continue her long-neglected Broodmother training. Hermione would be spending the day with her parents, as well as studying everything she can about the Glamdring. Yrel would be spending the morning with her sister. With a final goodbye, Harry headed out.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

At nine am in Hogsmeade, Harry sat at a round table, idly flexing his hand. At least that's a few more oath rituals done. It's going to be a long job to get everyone sworn in though.

Over the next few moments, the room filled. Harry greeted each individual as they entered. "Good morning Madam Bones. Aurogos, good to see you. Khanagos, Janedormi, glad you two could make it."

A few moments later, everyone was seated with a beverage of their choice and something to take notes with. Harry cleared his throat and began. "Good morning everyone. Madam Bones, Aurogos, thank you for taking charge while I was indisposed after arresting Minister Fudge. We've got a lot to cover today, so let's get started. We'll start working on the legal code this afternoon, but let's start today's discussion on our government structure. I want everyone here to be able to speak freely, but please be polite. Madam Bones, I asked Khanagos and Janedormi to join us here for any wisdom they might be able to share. They're both rather scholarly dragons, and have been around long enough to see civilizations rise and fall."

Harry took a deep breath and looked direct at Amelia before continuing. "My goal is to have a county that can govern itself with minimal direct control from me. My current thought is to lay down a system of laws with input from those around me and allow Britain to be governed by three tiers of politicians; Mayors for individual cities and towns, Governors for the various regions, and a Minister that oversees the entire county. I know the only mayors we need right now would be for Hogsmeade and the Diagon area, but I'm sure we'll get more towns in the future. I would like everyone with political power bound by magical oaths to avoid corruption and ensure fair governance. There would also need to be a system to add new laws or change existing ones, but with the mess the Ministry made I will be personally approving or rejecting every new law. Unless there is some pressing need we can have some kind of open forum or debate two or three times a year where anyone is welcome to present their problems and concerns."

Amelia was the first to speak. "It's a relief you don't intend to rule Britain with an iron first from a throne of skulls. Since your plan would eliminate the Wizengamot, how would you handle trials?"

Harry replied quickly, an answer already in his mind. He'd been preparing this for years. "Each community would have several judges, and trials would involve a three-judge panel. Ideally, each trial would have one local judge and two others from farther away to avoid bias. Our main goal with building a government will be to keep it as small and unobtrusive as possible. I want as many positions as possible to be part time and unpaid. No more politicians that decieve to get into office and end up wealthy from bribes. No more trading influence to hoard power. No more guilty men using their wealth to escape punishment while the innocent suffer."

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

The discussion and debate lasted for hours with Harry and the others familiar with Azeroth explaining the governments there, focused on what worked and what did not. Hammering out a new government was no small task, and this would only be the first discussion of many. Harry leaned back in his chair, feeling exhausted already. He hated politics. As the group helped themselves to refreshments and sat back down, Harry spoke again. "Let's put aside the discussion of government for now and move on to other matters. That will give us time to consider what has been discussed and think up new questions. Now, what is the most pressing business we have before us?"

Amelia spoke up. "While you were indisposed we questioned every one of Fudge's foreign mercenaries under Flamel-grade Veritaserum. About a third of them are operatives from other nations sent here for a wide variety of reasons, from ensuring the Statute of Secrecy held together to pilfering the Department of Mysteries, not that any of them managed to break in. Roughly another third are the kind of people I wouldn't want roaming Britain; murderers, rapists, and hardline blood supremacists. There are some people who simply wanted a steady paycheck and believed the Ministry's lies, at least at first."

Harry was thoughtful for a moment. "The foreign agents that are decent people will be ransomed back to their countries of origin, with different fees depending on why they were here. For those sent to uphold the Statute how does something like ten galleons, plus the cost of food, medical care, and any potions they require sound? Including the Veritaserum?"

After the group shared grins, Amelia spoke up. "That works. What will you do with the criminals?"

Harry looked around the table as he spoke. "Any suggestions?"

Janedormi coughed into her elven hand. "I may have a suggestion. As part of Stine's assault on the Timeline he gave some useful advice to Illidan Stormrage. Illidan still reigns as Lord of Outland and continues his war against the Burning Legion. Those found guilty of murder or consorting with the Legion in Outland are forced to join his army, forced to be useful even if it's just as cannon fodder."

Harry smirked. "One way or another I bet he could use some wizards, and any help they give him would be useful against the Legion. Anything that diminishes the Legion is a good thing. Amelia, what do you think about sentencing murderers to fight against a nearly-unstoppable army of demons for the rest of their lives, however long or short that might be? It wouldn't be hard to ensure they sign a contract in blood to keep them from defecting."

"I've read the intelligence report on the Legion, most of these thugs wouldn't last long without a lot more training. But they could easily make useful support personnel, healing assistants, food producers, warders, etc. As long as we're careful about only sending those who deserve it, I'm on board. If you're willing, we could also accept prisoners from other prisons around the world though I'm sure you'd want to question them under Veritaserum before sending them off."

"Yes, I would. I'll write to Lord Stormrage asking him to accept our prisoners and make them useful. Aurogos, would you be willing to find a courier? I'm planning to return to Azeroth in five days to tie up loose ends and repay a debt."

"Of course my Lord."

"Thank you. Now, let's move on to the next topic…"

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Three days later, Harry was looking decidedly lordly in his perfectly polished gleaming silver armor with purple accents as he followed the shaken warden of Nurmengard prison through the castle. Harry had just shown the man his own memories of the extraterrestrial threats he'd encountered, including Luna's Void parasite, his later battle with it in the Void, the forces of the Old Gods, and his rather minor encounters with the Burning Legion. But it was probably the memory of his duel with an alternate Albus Dumbledore and the subsequent destruction of the Elder Wand that had shaken the man the most. The warden began speaking as they made their way up the tower, his English strongly accented but still comprehensible. "After your oath, I won't ask whether that was all true or not. But are you so sure that you can control Grindelwald?"

Harry replied as they continued the long climb up to the tallest point of the tower. "Yes. You're aware of the power of contracts written and signed in blood, I'm sure. If he wants out of his cell Gellert will sign one and swear a special oath. Neltharaku, one of the lieutenants of the man leading the war against the demons, is currently at my home under the care of my healers. His people have an especially powerful way of sealing oaths."

Potter Estate was currently playing host to a sealed cube carrying much of the small Netherwing Dragonflight, including one of Illidan Stormrage's lieutenants, Neltharaku, Patriarch of the Netherwing Dragonflight. Bavaku, the drake Harry could so easily remember as the dying whelp he'd helped save so long ago, had delivered a message to the Black Temple in Outland three days ago. After agreeing to put Earth's murderous wizards to work in his fight against the Legion, Illidan had spoken to Bavaku at length about how he was so healthy and stable compared to the Nether dragons that served him. That had led to a formal request for Harry's healers to do what they could for the rest of the Netherwing. Not only were Harry's healers carefully infusing blood, flesh, and magic from donor dragons to overcome the Netherwing's lack of vitality and mayfly-short lifespans, (compared to other dragons, elves, or even humans) but they were also teaching Illidan's healers the procedure Dalistrasza and Valistrasza had created. Harry's oathsworn were also sharing the magic used to create the Potter's Mark tattoos.

While Harry could not remember the original timeline of Outland, specifically the years Illidan had ruled over the broken continent, both Janedormi and Stine insisted that Stine's actions had drastically altered the events of the last five years. After Illidan's failed attempt to destroy the Lich King, he'd returned to Outland and consolidated his power, willing to work with anyone there as long as they were an enemy of the Burning Legion. After his recovery from the ill-fated duel with Arthas Menethil, Illidan had even reached out to the Black dragons stranded on Outland. After Illidan ordered the Gronn hunted to extinction and personally slew Gruul the Dragonkiller, the surviving Black Dragons had sworn loyalty to Illidan. (Mostly out of self-preservation, Outland was not a friendly place and their odds of survival if they spurned Illidan were low.) Their leader Sabellian even became one of Illidan's lieutenants. While Harry wasn't usually pro-extinction, the Gronn had been dangerous and cruel creatures as intelligent as the troll that had nearly killed Hermione in their first year. Creatures that caused suffering for their own amusement weren't something he would miss. Gruul had personally impaled many Black dragons on spikes and left them to die in agony, so Harry didn't weep for him either.

Apparently the Black and Netherwing dragons were doing very well as part of Illidan's empire, the Blacks in particular had flourished as Illidan intensified the gradual weakening of the Old God's influence and had been working to stabilize Outland with what Talion jokingly referred to as their inborn 'volcano powers.' The warden spoke again as they reached the halfway point of the long climb to Grindelwald's cell, stumbling over the name of Harry's guest. "So, this Nel-thara-ku, he was injured in the war against the demons?"

"Magic is limitless in what it can accomplish. With enough power you can tear open the path to new planes of existence, new realities, or create entire worlds. I like to think that magic is capable of infinite wonder and infinite horror, endless healing and unending destruction. Neltharaku was on a planet that was magically torn apart by a servant of the demons and the destructive backlash of energy robbed him of most of his power and lifespan, but he gathered his strength and struggled on anyway. By the time my healers are done with him he should be three times as strong as he was and have at least half of those lost years restored to him."

"Good God. How do you even heal something like that?"

"A lot of complicated healing along with a donation of blood, flesh, and magic from a healthy individual. It leaves the donors weak for a while, but they recover eventually."

"How on Earth did your healers figure something like that out? I've never heard of a healer doing something like that!"

"I took responsibility for some refugees, including a toddler. He was dying despite our best efforts until we tried using a muggle-style blood transfusion alongside a transfusion of magic. We still almost lost him, but the kid's grown healthy and strong since."

The warden looked at Harry, pausing his climb. "That's the best kind of story. And now your healers are passing what they've learned on."

"Of course. That knowledge will save many more lives as it spreads."

The rest of the climb was quiet. Harry was glad the warden had agreed to sign a contract to keep his silence until Harry made the things he'd shared public knowledge. Eventually they reached the top floor of the tower, and the warden drew his wand before casting a complex series of diagnostics on what appeared to be a stone wall. After a few moments his posture relaxed and he began casting an even more complex series of spells at the wall. Harry had to marvel at the complexity of the prison as he watched the warden dismantle the spells that kept the prisoner cut off from the rest of the world. "How often do you physically check on him?"

"Twice a year unless something comes up. Normally only a team of house elves is allowed past this point, though even they don't enter the cell, only sending in food, reading material, and cleaning spells."

"Reading material?"

"Mostly books, sometimes newspapers and magazines. Grindelwald's first warden apparently made a deal that he would provide things for Gellert to read in exchange for sparing the guard's lives if he ever broke out. I spoke to Gellert when I took over and agreed to continue providing reading material in exchange for good behavior."

The warden paused partway through a wand movement. "Mr. Potter, I believe you that there's terrible evils wandering the universe, but my government would choose to ignore any evidence you gave them short of an actual invasion of Earth. If you take him with you, you must leave a corpse behind so the world will simply assume he died in his sleep. And… I might be called to testify under oath that Grindelwald is really dead, especially after the mess in Britain with Voldemort."

"That isn't a problem. I know an extremely effective false corpse spell and I can remove your memories of all your interactions with me if you wish."

"It would be for the best. Good luck and I'm sorry I can't do more."

With that the man completed the last spell to reveal the hallway and the cell it contained and turned to look at Harry. Harry cast an invisibility spell on himself and drew his wand before he spoke. "Thank you for your help. Obliviate. Confundo. You came to investigate a possible disturbance but found nothing, in hindsight you will realize your prisoner was dying but was still too proud to show weakness."

With no further words the warden began casting the spells that would hide the hallway containing this prison's only cell once more, completely missing the invisible man walking into the hidden hallway before the wall sealed again. Without another thought, he began walking back down the stairs to his office.

After watching the warden disappear down the stairs, Harry turned his attention to the revealed cell and got his first look at the man who had terrorized the magical world in the twenties, thirties, and forties. While old and not particularly fit, the man looked reasonably well fed and seemed to keep himself as well groomed as possible considering the circumstances. As the wall finished sealing itself up, Harry dropped his invisibility spell and conjured a chair. As the man gazed at Harry from a recliner where he was stroking a cat, apparently a large kneazle that was curled into a tight ball, he saw there was still a cunning intelligence in those blue eyes. Before Harry could introduce himself the man spoke up, speaking in English. "Ah. So the man responsible for destroying the future now stands before me."

Harry paused, his greeting dying before it was said. "You're a seer."

It was something that had been rumored about the man, but the history books Harry had found never confirmed the presence of the ability one way or another. Gellert spoke again after a moment. "The only future I saw for myself was being murdered in my cell, but that vision is gone now, shattered like glass. Nothing I have seen since is certain, everything is constantly shifting now from one future to another. It is maddening."

"I thought you were unable to use magic inside your cell?"

"I cannot. But I still receive visions while I sleep. It has been so long since I could freely use my magic, I have forgotten how clearly I could See when I could consciously guide my visions but I know I lost much of my ability to See the future."

Harry replied quickly. "There are many different universes, Mr. Grindelwald, and it is possible, though difficult, to travel between. I met refugees from another universe and gave them a home, their actions have thrown our future onto a different path from what you saw, just as my actions on the world of their birth has frustrated Azeroth's seers in turn. From what I know that is a universal weakness of seers." Seeing he had the former(?) Dark Lord's complete attention, Harry continued. "I am here for information, Mr. Grindelwald, and to give you an offer. I've discovered the origin of the Deathly Hallows. Both the Elder Wand and Resurrection Stone must be destroyed."

Grindelwald leaned forward in his chair. "I tried to warn Albus, I begged him in our letters to destroy the wand. What about the cloak, is it not a part of the set?"

"Yes and no. Do you have any idea where either of them are located?"

Gellert leaned back in his chair, pausing before he spoke again in an amused voice. "I never had much luck finding the stone but I will help you destroy the wand. But I haven't had a real conversation in so long… Before I tell you where to find it, please tell me where the damned Death Stick came from."

Harry replied quickly, eager to get this errand over with. "In the endless tangle of universes and the countless worlds within, for some reason our world is close to one called Azeroth. That planet has environmental magic a hundred times stronger than ours, so high that the people who live there are all either fully magical or squibs; there's no such thing as muggles. Seven hundred years ago, an individual from a race of sentient dragons named Vordistrasz sensed a disruption of magic and what he believed to be necromantic constructs. By the time he arrived the constructs had already opened a portal to our world and he chose to follow knowing it was likely a one-way trip. The constructs were actually souls bound to armor, and despite Vordistrasz's significant power, they beat him nearly to death.

"One of constructs, the one wearing a silvery cloak sent the other two away to scout, and offered Vordistrasz a chance to destroy the two items he'd been sent to release on Earth, an unassuming stone and knobbed wand. The attempt failed, the cloaked construct fled with the others in pursuit, Vordistrasz was left in agonizing pain until my healers were recently able to graft healthy flesh onto him, and the three constructs were never seen again. The Resurrection Stone and the Elder wand have spread death and misery across our world ever since. The Elder Wand was always the more visible danger, changing hands often as it whispers to its wielders, drawing out the worst in them. The stone is much more quiet, working its way through history one suicide at a time; though I doubt that's the only thing it can do. Soul magic is a nasty discipline, after all."

Harry paused for a moment. When he was fifteen and all the world seemed to be against him, on a night where he'd gone to bed enduring the sting of Umbridge's torture, Harry had received a message in a dream. The goddess Elune had reached out to him, imploring him to open the portal for his desperate future oathsworn. Last night he'd had another dream not of his own making, and he didn't like what it implied. His dream had two parts, the first was a request to come to Elune's Temple in Darnassus and the second was a warning, emphasizing something he'd already suspected; he'd seen the Elder Wand transposed several times with the infamous runeblade Frostmourne. Elune's message was clear, so Harry spoke again. "The Elder Wand influences its wielders. I don't know exactly how much, but from what I've read about you, Mr. Grindelwald, you were a revolutionary willing to kill before you ever touched the wand. The wand made you worse, but how much of your reign of terror was your own decision and how much was the wand we'll never know."

Grindelwald replied after a moment of reflection. "You are correct. I was a killer long before I stole the Elder Wand. Albus took it from me after our duel. Years passed before I realized what had happened and began imploring him to destroy the wand, but by then…"

Harry sighed. "By then it was too late, and the wand had its hooks deep in him. Between Albus' hubris and the wand, he did a great deal of damage to Britain, guiding the country to stagnation and subtly fanning the strife Voldemort took advantage of. He caused suffering with his poor decisions and the way he wielded his power."

With a knowing look, Gellert replied. "You suffered personally, didn't you?"

"Yes. He had more power than anyone else in Britain, even the Minister thanks to his reputation and power. When I find him, even if I can be sure he's free of the wand's influence after I destroy it, I can't let him go free because his mere presence would cause strife. I'm building a better government than we had before, a just government. People would rally to Dumbledore because he represents the past and they refuse to acknowledge their society was stagnant and corrupt. Despite my oathsworn wanting to get even with him just as much as the relatives he trapped me with, he's getting the same deal you are, Mr. Grindelwald."

The old man leaned forward in his chair and spoke with a curious expression on his face. "And what deal is that, Mr. Potter?"

"Exile. There's a great evil that goes from world to world, killing everything that lives and poisoning the worlds themselves to prevent life from ever returning. You will spend the rest of your days fighting demons under the command of a man who earned the title 'Demon Hunter' with toil and blood. Between the blood contract you'll sign and the oath you're going to take you won't be able to betray him. How does the chance to atone for your mistakes, one dead demon at a time, sound Mr. Grindelwald? Even if all you accomplish for the rest of your life is to stall the Burning Legion for a time, you will still save lives. In time, you might even save more lives than you murdered in your bid for power."

Gellert didn't cackle or laugh maniacally, but the man did smile a nasty smile, one filled with the promise of unleashing every horrific spell in his repertoire on beings that actually deserved it. "It sounds like a better option than waiting to be slaughtered like a pig by your dark lord. I think I'll take my cat with me, but I'll need a wand to get his bird out of the wall."

As Harry's attention was drawn to the tightly curled ball of fur, some memory was clamoring for his attention. In his defense, Harry had lived years since the day of the 'Battle Before Breakfast' where they'd chased Dumbledore out of Hogwarts. It took several moments before he recalled the spell to identify an animagus, but when he did he sent the spell flying into Grindelwald's cell and the cat glowed green for several long seconds. Harry spoke, sagging back into his chair. "Hello Albus."

Harry was silent for a moment, considering the situation. "Let me guess, Albus gave a command like 'bring me somewhere safe' and whatever control spell he had over Fawkes gave the phoenix enough free will to bring him here and trap himself in the wall?"

This time Grindelwald did cackle before speaking. "He's been my guest since you chased him out of Hogwarts." Gellert stopped petting the cat on his lap and poked its side instead. "I never studied the animagus transformation, much less what happens to carried items, but my old friend has gone… I believe the muggle term is 'cold turkey?' Poor Albus has become horrified with what he's done in the last few months. Though I admit our conversations have been rather one-sided."

Harry sighed as he watched Albus' animagus form refuse to uncurl from its ball or even look at him. "I don't have time for this."

With that, Harry cast the animagus reversal spell into the cell followed instantly with a summoning charm. Suddenly there were two wizards sitting in the comfortable recliner and the Elder Wand hanging in the air as it resisted Harry's summoning charm. "Been there, done this. I'll be back in a moment."

Not wasting time while the Elder Wand was fighting for its continued existence, Harry partially phased himself into the Twilight Realm and walked into Gellert's cell, passing through the bars like a transparent ghost. (His adult dragon form had granted him a greater mastery over the layer of reality he was intrinsically linked to, allowing him easier access and the ability to exist in both the physical world and the Twilight Realm simultaneously.) Reaching out for the wand, he pulled himself and it fully into the Twilight Realm and apparated to a desolate mountain peak nearby. While the Elder Wand immediately began trying to summon or conjure a being to wield it, possibly even the wand's creator, the destructive chaotic magic surging through the Twilight Realm slowed its progress considerably. Deciding the trick he'd pulled with the soul of Voldemort from Irradiated Earth was due for an encore, Harry transfigured and enchanted a chemical rocket strong enough to reach past Earth's orbit. It was a bit of a fight, getting the wand into the projectile, but soon the Elder Wand was flying beyond the atmosphere with Harry watching its progress with his trusty pair of enchanted binoculars. After Hadrion had grown from drake to dragon, Harry had noticed this realm felt more welcoming, more homey, but even now he wouldn't survive this realm's surging chaotic magic outside of a planet's magnetic field. Even with his increasing control of this place, entering it without that stabilizing effect would be suicide.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Albus and Gellert had watched Harry fade out of the physical world, horrified and impressed respectively. Over the next half hour the two made stilted conversation With Gellert remaining in the recliner and Albus claiming a chair from the room's desk. They had lapsed into silence once again when Harry faded back into existence on the other side of the cell's bars. Both men could sense the strange magic wafting off the young man, and could smell the remnants of the Twilight Realm dispersing from Harry. Harry rolled his shoulders and slipped back into the chair he'd conjured earlier. "Sorry about the wait, that's the second time I've dealt with an Elder Wand and it never gives up easily."

Albus Dumbledore looked at the child he'd failed and had to clamp down hard to keep himself from looking away in shame. What have I driven Lily and James' son to? Looking Harry in the eyes, he spoke up. "Mr. Potter, words can not express my regret for my actions. You deserved so much better than the life I arranged for you. I know I have no right to demand anything after all I've done, but please, tell me you haven't followed the path that led Tom Riddle to become Lord Voldemort."

Harry gave the man a weak smile. It was easy for his mind to understand that much or all of what Dumbledore had done to him was the result of the corruption of a dangerous artifact, but his heart still saw the man who'd sent a child to live ten dark years with Vernon and Petunia, among other things. "I've learned magics great and powerful, Albus. But I refuse any power that would corrupt my mind or threaten my family. I assume you know the risks of artificial aging? I assure you I haven't done that to myself, I've simply lived seven years since we last met. As for the magic you saw… Let's just say I found the most interesting creature and performed a ritual to anchor my animagus form to him."

Harry looked at both men before continuing. "Now, it is my intention to exile both of you from Earth along with the worst of the prisoners taken from Fudge's thugs and give you to Illidan Stormrage, the Lord of Outland, to assist his efforts to destroy the Burning Legion and save all creation from their Crusade to kill everyone, everywhere. Gellert, I'm going to be leaving a fake corpse that will stand up to any scrutiny. Albus, after you're gone I will tell Britain that I found you and freed you from the cursed artifact that had gradually taken control of you over the last fifty years. Feeling immense guilt, you accepted my offer of transport to Outland to assist in the fight against a great and terrible evil. You will have at least a few weeks of semi-regular mail service with anyone you wish to correspond with before we lose contact when the connection fails. You may or may not get occasional correspondence after that, my oathsworn are debating the merits of stealing four dimensional ships. Mail service won't be a priority between universes, but I'm sure we'll occasionally trade with the other universe."

Dumbledore proved his merits as an educator when he reflexively replied. "Theft is not something you should be encouraging…"

Harry laughed in response, feeling a little lighter now. "That entirely depends on who is being stolen from. 'Evil people don't deserve nice things,' after all. If you had taken everything from Malfoy after Voldemort died he wouldn't have been nearly as dangerous, for example. In this case the dimensional ships would be taken from beings my followers worshiped as gods before their minds cleared up."

(During the year's travel through the Void and two alternate Earths, the two thousand Draenei oathsworn that had joined him for that adventure had gradually changed their opinion of the Naaru. But, they had a good reason for their changing opinions. The Eredar had met the Naaru, living manifestations of the Light whose physical forms looked like complicated glowing wind chimes, when the Naaru rescued a faction of them from Sargeras and the other members of their race who chose to join the Burning Legion. That was a good thing. Less good, however, was the fact that the newly renamed Draenei ('Exiled Ones' in their language) eventually came to universally worship the Light and Naaru as gods. Their beliefs were more complicated than that, but the fact was that after spending years living with the Naaru and using the magic gifted by them the Draenei had changed; their society became more rigid and their species began to procreate less and less.

'Balance in all things' had become a motto for Harry's followers when dealing with the changes magic caused because using magic carried the very real danger of changing the user. That was why the Hogwarts curriculum had changed to include Nature magic and elemental spells. The Naaru's effect on the Draenei might or might not have been deliberate, but it had been stifling enough to prove that the Light's unchecked influence was not a good thing. More than one of Harry's oathsworn had suggested stealing Tempest Keep, both the primary dimensional ship and the three support ships to strand the Naaru on Outland. At least on Outland the Naaru could make themselves useful by directly opposing the Burning Legion.)

Harry was amused to see that neither old man knew how to respond to that. Harry spoke up as he pulled a heavily enchanted folded paper out of his pocket. "This is the contract that you need to sign in blood before I take you anywhere. Just in case you're thinking of trying something, don't. I was busy in the years I've been gone and I am willing and able to thrash you both if I have to." Harry took a deep breath and released it before he turned to his former Headmaster. "A warning Albus: we managed to break your control spell on Hermione, but it was a messy, awful ritual we used. Part of me is hoping this comes to violence so I can take you apart limb by limb for what you did to my wife."

Grindelwald seemed amused by Harry's threat while Dumbledore simply paled. Eventually as Gellert finished reading the contract and sliced his palm to drip enough blood into an inkwell to sign, Albus spoke up. "How!? Harry, my treatment of Miss Granger is one of the many things that has gnawed at me since I was able to see what I'd become! I… that ritual where I betrayed her trust and stole her Name… there shouldn't…"

With an expression as hard as granite and a voice as cold as Antarctica, Harry replied. "Since you've been trapped here Hermione has gained two more mothers, one blood and the other not, an additional biological father, and I gained a debt I need to repay to a fertility goddess. The ritual involved tearing her mind and soul out of its current vessel and giving her an entire new life. I will never forget the sight of her lifeless husk discarded on the floor while we hurried through an untested ritual, Albus Dumbledore. For your own sake, be silent."

Both men inside Gellert's cell were widely considered two of the three most powerful wizards alive. But as Harry's control of his magic slipped for only a moment, they were driven to their knees covered in a cold sweat by the sheer weight of his anger. Gellert could only smile wistfully as the young man regained control over himself and the pressure relented, thinking to himself as he signed the contract and drew a little more blood for the False Corpse spell. I thought I had reached the pinnacle of what a wizard could achieve before Albus bested me, I was wrong. It is humbling to learn how much farther it is possible to go.

Neither man spoke as Albus timidly signed his own contract and passed both through the cell's bars. Harry took Gellert's blood and with a practiced hand summoned three rabbits from his pocket to perform the Black Family's False Corpse spell. Albus was tempted to object to the dark spell, but wisely held his tongue. Once everything else was ready, Harry withdrew two blue metal manacles. "Each of you put one on, they will suppress your magic until you can swear the oath I mentioned. Where is Fawkes?"

Gellert answered Harry's question by quickly standing and moving a bookshelf. Harry sighed as he saw Fawkes' blessedly inert foot sticking out of the stone wall. When both wizards locked their manacles on Harry levitated the fake corpse, opened a portal into the Twilight Realm, apparated a few feet into the cell, then opened a new portal and walked through. Unlike the first portal, the second remained open. Harry levitated the corpse onto the bed and spoke as he summoned a clean pair of comfortable wool robes for Gellert from a pocket. "Don't step through the portal yet or you'll die. Put these on and get your fake dressed in what you're wearing while I pull Fawkes out."

While keeping one eye on the two men, Harry quickly drew his spear and channeled a stone-cutting spell in a square around Fawkes' talon. While the cell disrupted magic, he simply drew more magic than it could ever hope to control directly from the Twilight Realm. By the time he had removed the block of stone and replaced it with the rocks he always kept in a pocket for his transfigurations, there was a visible torrent of power rushing from the portal into his skin. With one last spell, Harry adjusted the false corpse's clothes to look like it had dressed itself and stepped into the portal with the stone cube holding Fawkes under his left arm. "This way. Stay close while we're on this side, the Twilight Realm is lethal if you don't have someone to hold back the energy."

With that, Harry led Gellert and Albus into the Twilight Realm, and from there it was a simple matter to chain apparate until he reached Potter Estate and he conjured another portal back to the physical world. He allowed himself to be amused at the unfortunate disorientation the two experienced, but he wasn't about to share the secret protecting his home with either of them. After Harry dragged the two into a type-two cube they would be gifting to Illidan, creatively named 'Field Hospital,' Gellert looked around the cube's massive interior appreciatively. "So that is how it feels to be trapped in a Fidelius without the secret. Mr. Potter, this is an impressive expanded space, I'd love to know how you keep it stable."

Harry led them deeper in towards a massive central structure built out of white stone, past the reception area that was simply clean, shortly trimmed grass. "You'll learn the secret soon enough. Here," Harry quickly withdrew two pairs of glasses from one of his pockets. "These are enchanted to provide a written translation for any of the languages spoken here, they'll also work as normal glasses if you need them. Follow me and don't bother the healers, they're overworked and a bit grumpy."

If Harry hadn't been in such a dark mood at standing next to Albus Dumbledore, he would have been amused at their reaction to Harry's healers and their patients. Nearly every race of Azeroth was represented here, Harry could even see Saska surgically implanting flesh from a Red dragon into a Nether drake. Harry waved to Andromeda but didn't dare interrupt her as she was giving a mature Nether dragon a blood transfusion. Before he'd left that morning he'd spoken to Neltharaku and his healer to be sure the fully-grown Nether wyrm was well enough to bond a Dragonsworn, so Harry hoped two wouldn't be much more of a strain. (The wyrm was only eighteen, an age most dragons still had over ninety years left as a drake before they even became adults; in under two decades he'd not only grown to a size other dragons would take a thousand years to match, he'd also burned through most of his lifespan. At least he'd get some of those years back now.)

Neltharaku looked well when they approached him, as well as remarkably less translucent than the first time Harry had met him. The Netherwing gradually became less corporeal as they aged as more of their physical form became energy pulled from the Twisting Nether. Now, Neltharaku had slowly spreading patches of completely solid Black and Blue flesh where he'd received transplants and a completely solid (and clearly visible through his mostly transparent body) circulatory system thanks to donated blood. It was a truly bizarre and unsettling sight, but if you watched a single vein closely you could see him becoming more solid, the healing spreading out from his veins slowly. Harry chuckled as the wyrm looked up from the moose he'd been eating and spoke to them in Common. (This cube was going through a lot of meat, the dragon's new flesh had to come from somewhere after all.) "Lord Potter, thank you for doing this for us. I feel so much better already, so much more solid. Thanks to you I don't have to worry about simply dispersing into the wind one day."

Harry gave the dragon a warm smile. "I'm glad to help your people, Patriarch. These men are Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore. Both of them can do some good serving under Lord Stormrage."

The dragon looked between both of the elderly men for a moment. "They're not very strong, are they? I thought 'Gellert' was supposed to be some kind of magical powerhouse, not a third rate wizard."

Harry swallowed a chuckle at the surprised expressions on both old men's faces and responded. "Neither one of them ranks as a Mage by power, but they make up for that with control and a wide variety of spells. I'd say they have decent odds of defeating Khadgar if they worked together."

Neltharaku was thoughtful for a moment. He'd met Khadgar several times and even worked with him to destroy demon encampments, the Arch-Mage was powerful and no fool. "If you say so, human. Do you think they could take Lady Proudmoore as well? I have not met her, but she is supposedly the most powerful mortal wielder of magic next to Khadgar."

Harry broke down laughing, almost to the point of tears. "By the Void, no! Lady Proudmoore is a much more powerful Mage than Khadgar and only lacks his decades of experience. I trained with her for three years and she overcame my every trick, even the ones I invented myself. There's little these two could do to surprise her." Harry centered himself and much of his amusement fell away. "Are you willing to take them as your Dragonsworn?"

The dragon turned its attention back to both wizards standing behind Harry. "Are they aware of Lord Illidan's task?"

Albus was still wallowing in shame, so Gellert spoke for both of them. "My hands are stained with innocent blood, dragon. If you give me the chance to atone I will fight with everything I have for the few years I have left."

Given Neltharaku's size, it was easy to miss the translation glass, a larger monocle version of what the old men were wearing, over one eye but given the number of different languages spoken by healers and patients here it was a helpful tool. So he had no problem understanding Gellert's words. "You will have more than a few years, wizard. In exchange for service the Dragonsworn Oath grants you greatly increased power and life expectancy. It is a thankless war we wage for the protection of all life, so we'll be giving perks even to the criminals Lord Potter is sending my Lord."

The Dragonsworn oath was an interesting piece of magic to watch, but Harry let out a sigh of relief when it was done and both Dumbledore and Grindelwald became Neltharaku's first Dragonsworn. Harry stayed until the two had been given their initial orders and one of Neltharaku's assistants was telling the former dark lord about the enemy he'd be facing until he fell in battle or the Burning Legion was destroyed. Freeing Fawkes from his block of stone had been as easy as asking Talion to join them and asking him to melt the stone to slag. When the stone had completely melted, a gout of flame erupted and when it died, a downy phoenix chick chirped up at Albus. To Harry's surprise, Fawkes chose to remain with Albus when Neltharaku ordered Albus to remove the control spells he'd placed on his companion.

As he was leaving, Dumbledore attempted to speak with him, but Harry cut the man off. "Albus, you made mistakes and hurt many people. I'm sending you away for the stability of Britain and because this is a chance for you to fight true evil, to make creation a safer place... I admit part of my decision is because of the pain you inflicted on the people I love. Actions have consequences, Albus. You chose to wield a weapon you damn well should have known was cursed. You thought too much of yourself, and others paid the price. Go into exile with your head held high and make your mark on Lord Illidan's war."

With that, Harry left his old Headmaster behind without looking back. He wished Albus Dumbledore the best but was unwavering in his choice to banish the old man. It really was the best outcome for everyone; while he felt bad about tearing the man away from everything he knew, thanks to nearly fifty years of the Elder Wand poisoning his mind Albus didn't have friends as much as he had pawns.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Three days after breaking Grindelwald out of prison, Harry was standing in Outland, near the entrance to Shadowmoon Valley. As he waited alongside Ron, Samaara, Yrel, and a dozen dragons in their anthromagus forms, (including Neltharaku, who was wearing the shape of a High Elf) Harry took in the molten, Fel-irradiated desolation with a heavy heart. Harry spoke as he used a pair of binoculars to inspect the volcano that continually erupted sickly glowing green lava. "This place was so beautiful once, thriving and thick with animals and plants. Damn Gul'dan! There was so much beauty here!"

"You sound like my brother." Those words were the group's first warning that the man they were meeting had arrived. Illidan Stormrage stepped out of the shadows flanked by a Naga Harry knew by reputation as Lady Vashj and a number of elven Demon Hunters. The Demon Hunters were probably Illidan's elite, judging by the extensive magical tattoos and obvious proof they had gone through the customary ritual to sacrifice their physical eyesight for the ability to see magically in a way no other could. Vashj was fairly typical for a Naga, though she did have a unique coloring. Lord Illidan stood tall, his horns, wings, and cloven feet on clear display.

Harry replied quickly, not liking the sound of that. "Draenor held a savage beauty before Gul'dan tore the planet apart. Much was lost, but in time you may be able to heal the land." Harry withdrew a shrunken type-two cube from a pocket and expanded it by triggering a rune on the surface. "All of the dragons that traveled to my world are safe within. This 'Field Hospital' is yours to use however you see fit. Inside are the prisoners we discussed by correspondence. I also have several gifts that will aid Outland in general." Harry reached into a satchel hanging off his armor once more. "This is a cube containing saplings of various magical trees my people have developed, one species in particular draws magic from the Twilight Realm and releases it into the surroundings, the others take that magic and transmute it into other kinds among other effects."

Illidan paused in examining the cube for a moment and turned to Harry. "Impressive. And potentially useful as well."

"Indeed. If you plant the saplings around Outland you might be able to stabilize the continent, though you might need a world tree for that." Harry paused and turned to the Naga at Illidan's side. "Lady Vashj, thank you for coming. In exchange for a favor I might call on in the days to come, I offer you these three cubes. Each one carries magical plants that produce a continuous supply of water. Currently they only produce as much as a small stream, but when the plants are fully mature that will increase to a river's worth at least. Given the scarcity of water on Outland…"

"A kingly gift human. But be careful what you ask for, I will not betray my loyalties so cheaply." Reading non-human expressions was something Harry had learned since helping to open Elune's Portal, and he could clearly see Vashj's threat.

"I do not expect you to. I am simply planning to hunt down a threat to my people, and I would prefer not to come into conflict with yours if possible."

One thing Harry appreciated about Lord Illidan was that the man was brief and focused. There was no pointless conversation, no pretty, meaningless words with him. Only a few moments later the two groups were parting ways, and Harry spoke to Illidan one last time. "The prisoners are all magic users. While they may not be effective against the Legion directly, those too weak can still be effective support personnel, blacksmiths, couriers, healers, and workers. I may send more in the future."

"As you wish, human. Is there anything else?"

Harry replied. "Do you know the current status of Tempest Keep? I am considering 'liberating' The Eye and two of the support ships from the Narru."

Illidan let out a genuine laugh at that. There had been no love lost between Illidan and the Narru since they had nearly convinced the Alliance and the Horde to besiege his loyal Naga and his holdings in Shadowmoon Valley. Correspondence with Tyrande, and the priestess' subsequent efforts, had been the only reason the 'Cenarion Expedition' had been reigned in and Illidan's stronghold had not been invaded while he was distracted with running a critical series of raids against the Legion. "I believe the Narru intend to reclaim their ships, but all four are damaged. Since Kael'thas betrayed me they've also become infested with demons and a number of creatures from the Void. If you intend to lay claim to the Narru's ships I can dispatch a team of my hunters to help purge them."

Harry smiled and gave a shallow bow. "I will be in contact, Lord Stormrage."

Illidan smirked and returned the bow. "Good hunting, Lord Potter."

With that the two parted ways, and Harry conjured a portal that his group quickly filed through. He had places to be, but for now he required a bath. It wouldn't do to visit the Temple of Elune for the first time while covered in the dust of Outland, after all.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Old but not Dead

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Albus looked up from the newspaper he'd received when the last courier from Earth had visited. Seeing Delores Umbridge, battered and with a split lip, drag herself back to her post distributing food in the Illidari's mess hall he sighed and returned to his 'Sunday' copy of the Hogsmeade Quibbler, finding this single issue had more facts and honest reporting than the Prophet had printed in decades. Apparently Harry had sent recommendations for certain prisoners and Albus thought some of his ideas were quite fitting. Fudge had been assigned as a cook, quickly learning spells to provide nutritious and passably tasty meals to Lord Illidan's armies. Umbridge had been assigned to distribute the food, but had yet to learn how to restrain her hatred for muggleborn or non-humans. Given that Harry had freely shared healing techniques that kept Nether dragons from dying of old age before thirty, it wasn't unusual for Delores to make a snide remark and a Nether drake to drag her out of the hall and show their displeasure. Not that she wasn't being provoked often, many individuals had joined the game of needling her until she lashed out and earned another beating. Albus would feel sorry for her, but given the fact that she had done exactly the same thing to students in his school, not to mention the dozens of muggle-born children whose murders she'd quietly arranged Albus wasn't even going to think about speaking up in her defense.

Albus smiled as he read the paper's headlines again as he ate the rabbit and vegetable soup Cornelius had prepared for lunch. It wasn't the best, the man was still figuring out how spices worked when he wasn't complaining about working like a house elf and earning his own beatings, but it was edible. (Thanks to an Illidari or two with Druid training the meal had a few vegetables grown in the fields of the 'Field Hospital' cube. A number of the banished prisoners were being taught Druidic magic and would be responsible for food production going forward.)

'Harry Potter Claims Complete Control of Britain!

Already working with Mayor Madam Bones and Advisors to Create Fair Government and Laws!'

'Lord Potter Hammering out Legal Code! Expects Britain to Govern itself!

Man-Who-Had-Enough Declares Culture Will Change!'

'Despite Only Recently Overthrowing the Ministry, Lord Potter Already Looking Forward to Relinquishing Direct Control, Reportedly Wants to Focus on His Family!'

'Lord Potter Announces His Marriage to Four Women! Identities Unknown!'

'Heinous Crimes Unveiled! Fudge's Ministry Revealed as Not Only Corrupt and Useless, but Evil! Lord Potter Demands Justice for the Innocent!'

'Lord Potter Sentences the Guilty to Lifetimes of Service!

Former Minister, Undersecretary Among those Banished!'

'A Slave to a Dark Artifact?!

The Triumphs and Defeats of Albus Dumbledore!'

Albus' eyes became wet as he read the final article. He wished it wasn't true, but despite painting him in a terrible light, not one word was anything but the unvarnished truth. He folded the paper away as he lifted his bowl and drained the soup. There was a lot to do today. His Patron, the dragon that he now served, and would for the rest of his life, wasn't a slave driver but neither did he allow Albus and Gellert to sit around idly. Albus needed to get back to work enchanting copies of Harry's expanded cubes; soon the Black Temple, which he felt desperately needed a more cheerful name and more colorful décor, would be able to outlast any siege by simple virtue of producing all of their own food.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Gellert Grindelwald was spoiling for some action after his first week in Outland. Oh, he'd learned many fascinating things, and met fascinating people, and even been busy using his magic, but it wasn't the same as real combat. (Thankfully everyone spoke Common and it was an incredibly easy language to learn.) Lord Potter had even been kind enough to provide each of the banished with one of Ollivander's new Living Wands and he was beyond ready to let loose and see what this new wand was really capable of. That wasn't to say he and Albus had been idle in the days since their banishment, oh no. Both men had been busy conjuring everything from water to building material, transfiguring new and better defenses, and laying wards. These 'Demon Hunters' were certainly skilled at offense, but were clueless on how to lay a wardstone and turn a defensible stone structure into a fortress. Between his own skills and Albus' experience with Hogwarts' legendary wards, the Black Temple would soon be impregnable. Albus was starting to gain some of his old vigor back, in fact both men were seeing the mounting benefits of the Dragonsworn Oath as their Patron finished his recovery. Each day his body was stronger and ached less, to say nothing of his steadily growing magical power. Still, he was a man who had terrified the entire magical world, and he desperately wanted the chance to cut loose now that he had a truly evil enemy.

Finally, his chance came. Neltharaku received a report that the Legion had sent a strike force to reopen one of the interdimensional portals that had torn this world apart, and decided that it was a good opportunity to see what his new Dragonsworn could do. Not much later, Albus and Gellert were riding Black drakes flying away from Honor Hold, the main human settlement in 'Hellfire Peninsula' along with a dozen elven Demon Hunters, each on their own Black drake and three human scouts on gryphons. (Demon Hunters usually preferred to work with Nether drakes, but many of them were still being treated in the delightful expanded space Harry Potter had given to Lord Illidan.) The humans had sent a message reporting the demonic activity these scouts had discovered, while the Demon Hunters ranging from 'grass green' to seasoned veterans were there to see how Albus and Gellert handled their first bit of demon slaying and assist as needed.

As they flew, Gellert decided that this place had been well named. Almost nothing grew here, the Peninsula was a barren wasteland of red rock that bore the scars of many battles. More than ready for battle, he cackled as they began circling for a landing, the frenzy of demonic activity below them clear to see. "Finally, some real action!"

A few moments later their group had landed on a ridge overlooking the demon's main camp and the old men were stretching to work the kinks out of their old bones. The most arrogant of Illidan's Demon Hunters soon interrupted them with a sneer. "I don't know why the Master is wasting his time with the likes of you but if you're going to do anything, get on with it so you can give up and we can take over. Void knows you're barely strong enough to be called Mages."

Gellert simply smirked and looked over the ridge at the camp that hadn't seen them yet. While some demons were resistant to fire, he doubted they would survive Fiendfyre or some of his other wonderfully destructive spells. But before he could cast anything, Albus spoke up in a patronizing tone that would annoy even the brats he'd taught at Hogwarts. "Oh, I beg for a moment of patience, my good man. There's a particular spell I invented in my younger years, and it's been so long since I was able to use it." Albus turned to the dragon he'd flown on. "My dear, would you mind donating a bit of blood? I only need enough to coat my wand."

Obviously curious, the dragon carefully opened a small wound on its forelimb and Albus rolled his wand below the wound to ensure it was entirely coated except for the grip and moved to the edge of the overlook. "Gellert, would you mind casting a healing charm on Evidria? This is no place for an open wound. Now everyone! Pay attention, this is something you'll enjoy."

Glad to see his old friend and enemy looking a bit more lively, he quickly disinfected and healed the minor cut. It wasn't a deep wound, but even he had no desire to explain to Sabellian that one of his daughters had gotten an infected wound on his watch. That done, he quickly joined Albus on the edge as the man languidly moved his wand as if conjuring a gentle breeze, to the scorn of their fellow Illidari. (Compared to what that insane upstart Voldemort called his followers, Gellert could live with being an 'Illidari.' Lord Illidan had impressed even him with his ruthlessness, drive, and raw power after all.) Gradually Albus' movements sped up and a small ball of flame formed in the air. Then, with a sudden jerking movement of his wand the unassuming ball of flame sped towards the heart of the demon's encampment. As it streaked through the air, the blood on Albus' wand caught flame and flared brightly without burning his hand. As the blood was consumed, the streak of flame exploded in size, becoming a meteor of flame that was nearly as large as, if not larger than, the entire camp. Flaming talons and draconic heads formed out of the flame and the spell roared loudly enough to nearly deafen them even at this distance.

The meteor of flame hit the ground and Gellert smirked as he watched the Illidari elves step back in shock at the wave of heat that washed over them, even here. The encampment didn't catch fire, anything flammable simply flashed into ash as the stones melted. While much of the spell's fury was expended creating a bubbling pool of lava, the spell wasn't finished yet; shapes formed out the lingering flames, soon resolving into drakes. In a voice that reminded Gellert why he was attracted to Albus in the first place, his old friend bellowed out a command with magic dripping in his every syllable. "Hunt down and consume as many demons as you can! Feast!"

Gellert laughed as the flaming dragons split up, chasing down and consuming the stragglers before taking wing towards a demon camp scheduled to be dealt with by another group in a few hours. "You've been holding out on me, old friend! Was that the Thirteenth use for dragon's blood that you discovered? It reminds me of Fiendfyre."

Albus smiled and spoke. "Yes, I decided not to publish this for obvious reasons, the spell is fiendishly difficult to cast and control. But it seemed like the best way to kick off our next great adventure."

Gellert smiled widely as he beckoned the drakes the two had rode to ready themselves. "I admit it's an adequate spell Albus, but you've left me without any targets! You'll have to let me cast the first spell next time! There's another demon incursion to the east, we might as well wipe them out now that your fireworks have riled them up."

Half an hour later, twelve Illidari and three human scouts watched open-mouthed as the two old men laid siege to the Legion's fortifications at the Throne of Kil'jaden. This place should have needed dozens of Illidari and at least one lieutenant to clear, but Albus and Gellert were making a game of it! Gellert was advancing through the demon's ranks in a swirl of hungry blue-white flames that stripped the demon's flesh from their bones. Then, with whatever focus he wasn't using to maintain his fiery defense, he was using some form of alchemy to transmute the smoldering bones into gleaming silver and then necromancy to animate them. Each demon he killed only swelled his growing army of skeletal constructs.

Meanwhile, Albus was just as busy throwing bolts of deadly silver flame with precision into the larger demons and everything they'd stockpiled. (He'd discovered that whatever the demons used to power their artillery exploded wonderfully with a bit of prodding.) Thanks to Fawkes sitting on his shoulder, the man was teleporting in flashes of flame, supporting Gellert's area-of-effect spells with precision strikes. More and more demons were flooding through the base's demon gates, (pulling a stream of demons from some other part of Outland) and the two men would eventually be forced to retreat, but even when they were out-manned and a castle-sized Pit Lord joined the fray, the two had one more trick to play. After quickly conferring, Fawkes switched wizards and took Gellert to a massive demon skeleton they'd flown over earlier while Albus twisted the red stone all around him to rise as every monster known to wizard kind. The next few moments were a bit hectic as Gellert countered the charging Pit Lord with the massive animated Pit Lord skeleton Fawkes had taken him to and delivered to the battle.

Gellert smiled widely, showing his stained teeth, as his animated skeleton matched strength with the living siege engine. As their massive glaives met and locked, he let loose a maniacal laugh and infused his creation with the same flames he'd wreathed himself in earlier. He had to stop and drink deeply from a flask while Albus briefly covered him, he wouldn't admit it but animating that skeleton had taken a fair bit out of him. That was when Albus glided past above him, riding a transfigured Basilisk and shouted out. "No rest for the wicked Gellert! More flames and push for the demon's gates before we get another big one!"

With a swirl of his wand, Gellert was again wreathed in hungry flames and charged forward. He did pause for a moment to cast a nasty bit of soul magic he'd once come across in a forbidden tome. Apparently these demons were dangerous because they could only be killed in the Twisting Nether, anywhere else and you didn't get their real selves, they just reformed after a while. Well, let's see what happens if my constructs start absorbing the demon's souls!

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

From a safe distance, the Illidari and scouts from Honor Hold watched silently as Gellert's Pit Lord made of white flame and silver bones carved with runes overcame its evenly matched opponent and stole its weapon. To their horror, those silver bones broke apart under the frantic casting of the insane Mage and stabbed deep into the (barely) still living Pit Lord. Before their eyes, the creature screamed as its skin began to change, first shriveling before it was sucked inward. A moment later they watched even the demon's bones shatter before being absorbed by the silver bones etched in runes. As it reformed, each bone seeking out its proper place, the skeletal Pit Lord seemed a little larger and much faster as it picked up both of the massive weapons lying on the ground and charged into the endless swarm of demons pouring out of the demon's gates. One of the scouts looked at the Illidari in horror before he spoke. "Where the hell did you find these monsters?!"

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Two hours later, Albus and Gellert were kneeling in front of Lord Stormrage as the Illidari (also kneeling) who'd watched their efforts reported in. Though Illidan's servants were shocked at the wizard's skills, especially compared to most of the prisoners Harry had sent, they reported events exactly as they had occurred. Eventually Illidan turned and addressed the two of them directly. "Well done. Are your constructs permanent?"

Gellert replied. "Mine are, but the smaller ones are not terribly durable. The ones made from rock are temporary unless a prohibitive amount of magic is used to create them. I have complete control of the Pit Lord skeleton and weaker control of the others. What should I do with them?"

"Have them stay in the courtyard for now. We'll use the small ones as cannon fodder in our next raid and the large one as another defense for the Black Temple until we find a better use for it. Tomorrow both of you will report to our blacksmiths to be fitted for the sealed armor Lord Potter provided the plans for. In two days the Keystone will be charged and ready. Rest and prepare, for you will be joining my chosen and I in battle."

With that, Illidan stalked away to prepare for the next battle. Dismissed, the group made their way to the mess hall, ignoring the dust, grime, and ash sticking to their skin. Illidari in general weren't the most sociable people, but as Albus and Gellert tore into their meals, getting seconds and thirds of meat roasted with a local root crop, every one of the team assigned to observe and assist them congratulated them on a job well done. Eventually the two were sated and decided to retire. Both men had small rooms (they hadn't stayed small for long) in the temple's Dragon Quarter, and Albus had recently spent some time creating an expanded room that was a cross between a natural hot spring and the Prefect's bathrooms from Hogwarts. As they made their way in they were joined by the dragon who'd carried Albus into battle earlier. After looking between them for a moment, Evidria spoke up. "Do you mind if I join you? Both of you really impressed me earlier."

Gellert's face lit up with a mad smile. He might not know draconic body language, but since he'd gotten to Outland he'd been using Legilimency at every opportunity. His Patron had even encouraged him to do so, explaining that gaining experience at detecting and combating mental intrusions was essential for those hunting demons. Evidria was obviously entranced by their displays of power earlier in the day and was considering a physical relationship with one or both of them. Browsing through her mind this drake was obviously no coward, but after four years of nearly continuous battle with the Illidari was deeply tempted by the six months of light duty and relative relaxation she'd be granted for a pregnancy. She didn't care if a child fathered by either of them was only a half dragon, only that their power would give her offspring a good chance at survival in a very hostile world. While he knew Albus had no interest in females of any species, he had more varied tastes. Still, he knew the Dumbledore family had a long and storied history, not to mention their bloodline's odd relationship with phoenixes; it would be a shame to let Albus' bloodline die out. It would take some convincing, but Gellert was sure he could talk Albus into continuing his line, one way or another. His old friend deserved a family after all he'd been through. "Of course not. Why don't you tell us more about yourself, since we barely know more about you than your name and species."

Albus groaned when he saw the gleam in his old friend's eyes as the drake eagerly followed them into the part of the bath he'd reserved for himself and his old friend. He knew from experience just how convincing Gellert could be after all, and he himself still had bad habits with Legilimency that he'd yet to really break.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

A/N: And that's a wrap. Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long, but sadly my muse doesn't respond to bribes or threats. (She'd make a terrible politician.)

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