Yes I know, another story. Yes I am that dumb. It helps keep me busy and jump between stories to avoid writers block however so whatever works.
So an Harry Potter and Warcraft AU. As things went differently in Harry Potter, and WoW is so here and there and everywhere on Lore, I'll just call it AU for anything I manage to put in there that ends up being different from the canon, retconns and then canon again stuff.
In either case, enjoy, call me crazy, critique. Have a glass of water, I don't know I'm not in charge of you!
Azeroth
Stonetalon Mountains, Windshear crag.
Blackened tree stumps and broken dry and cracked ground all around them. In the distance smog and the sound of explosions and machinery. Tall mountains surrounding them on every side. Stretching high into the sky, giant monoliths proudly reaching for the heavens, a natural defense for the land.
"It will need a lot of work, the forests here have been destroyed, the soil suffers." One man said, kneeling in the dirt, eyes closed, hands glowing slightly as the dirt swirled around him. Empty cloudy eyes opened after a moment, seemingly staring at the distant smog, "They are raping this land…" The blind man growled.
"It's also not undefended, we could go with the other entrypoint. Here we'll have to clean up these filthy goblins…" The blonde man spat on the ground, earning a rebuking turn of the head from the kneeling man. He continued undaunted, "You'd think we'd be rid of the nasty blighters, and then they have infested this place too!"
"Neville… Draco…" The man standing at the forefront chided, both men stopped and turned to their leader. Emerald green eyes staring at the mountains around them, feeling the magic infusing everything, the almost welcoming feeling. "This is the right place. I can feel it." He spoke softly. "Who better than us to bring the land back to flourish. It will give people something to do, something to hold on to, to bring hope again to our kin." He finished, hardly daring to believe, hope was not something he'd had for such a long time.
Neville Longbottom stood up, brushing dirt off his knees, smiling, the scars crossing his eyes twisting slightly at the action, "If anyone can handle it, it's us." No one called the Longbottom heir weak or cowardly anymore, the man having survived weeks of Legion torture, and then cheerfully killed his interrogator with a plant, and escaped a demon camp without notice, while newly blinded.
Draco Malfoy scoffed, "Cheerfully optimistic as always Longbottom." The scarred pureblood replied, his detractors mockingly referring to him as Draco Two-face, partly from old memories of a childhood rivalry. Mostly from half his face being a burned pockmarked hellscape, a present from a Dreadlord a few years into the Legion war. They never mock him for long, forgetting that he was a man that could survive a Dreadlord burning his face off.
Harry Potter silently listened to their usual bickering with a half smile. Remembering a time when they last could afford to waste time on something so simple. To think his childhood with all its horrors, could be remembered now as the time when life was easy. So much death and destruction. This land would be their new home. They would build, they would prosper, and when the Legion poked its ugly head out again. They would sever it with pleasure.
King Hadrian I of the newly christened magical kingdom of Camelot raised his hand and spoke, and the world following behind him listened. "Move out."
The glowing portals spread out all behind him, wagons of goods, surviving animals and fauna, and more importantly, the survivors of the magical world. All leaving the barren desolate Earth, for a new beginning. All coming through the portals with every scrap of anything that survived. Purebloods, Half-bloods, Muggleborns, Squibs, Centaurs, Vampires, Werewolves, Merpeople, Veela and House Elves, it didn't matter. They were all his to protect. They had all fought together for the past twenty years.
May the gods have mercy on any in this world that followed the Legion.
Harry Potter no longer held mercy in his heavy heart. Duty was as heavy as a mountain, death as light as a feather. And death he dealt all too easy now, it had been his duty for so long. Yet he could never have the privilege himself for a final rest.
Once there had been just a lucky break. Some extra knowledge left behind, extra help on a journey. It had seemed like a godsend, something that saved lives. Albus Dumbledore in a fit of worry about leaving too much unsaid, had left a vial of memories for Severus Snape. It had changed everything.
Severus Snape, even while thought of as an enemy of the light, utilized his position to help find the Dark Lord Voldemort's Horcruxes. He cut down on the journey a few scared children had to take by months, saving at the time countless lives by seemingly drawing the war to an end sooner. The problem of Harry Potter's Horcrux solving itself when Harry was struck by the dark Lord's killing curse in Godric's Hollow. Just a fluke, staying a second or two too late.
Snape himself ended up dying in triumph, killing the Dark Lord's familiar Nagini, the last Horcrux, at a Death Eater meeting. Taunting the man responsible for his only love's death about his destroyed anchors. And as always with Severus Snape, even his greatest actions, beget nothing but heartache and failure. The surviving magical world having two Satans to hate and swear about from thereon. Severus Snape and Voldemort.
As the so-called golden trio rushed to Hogwarts, preparing to take down Voldemort for good now that he was mortal. No one had expected the reaction the insane man would take. Bereft of his anchors, no longer able to create more, nor trusting in them as they had failed anyway. The Dark Lord, owing to his vast repository of dark knowledge, reached out into the ether. And opened a portal and struck a deal.
There were many ways to be functionally immortal in the Burning Legion. And Voldemort offered a world of magic and resources, billions of slaves and sacrifices for but the favour of immortality. One he was granted by Sargeras himself.
This was all relayed to Harry Potter by Draco Malfoy after the scion of the Malfoy family abandoned Malfoy manor to bring word to his rival. As demons started to pour out of the portal Harry Potter called out to the magical world by any means available to him. Even using muggle tv to try and reach as many muggleborns as possible, warning them. Begging them to take shelter under the strongest wards they could find. To use the Fidelius charms as much as possible. Directing them to Hogwarts for now.
Not everyone listened. The purebloods believing themselves mighty did not believe a mere summoning of demons would be able to defeat them. Muggleborns and half bloods, having experienced several months of Voldemort's rule, flocked to Hogwarts. And survived. Across the world, those of so-called lesser blood took heed of the words of the chosen one. As did many of those purebloods who had stood against Voldemort. They had failed to listen before and been proven wrong. This time, they listened. It saved most of them.
The first few months were apocalyptic. Starting with the goblins siding with the burning legion, offered boon after boon and quickly accepting. Helping the Legion break down the wards of old family manors hiding purebloods now alone and isolated, and soon dead or enslaved. Those who chose slavery would soon wish they'd chosen differently. The corruption of the Legion worse than any Dark Lord.
Harry had been forced to make a choice that would forever weigh him down from that day forward. He could choose to find and save as many magical people and beings as possible. Save their flora and fauna and beings before the demons made use of it. Or he could help the muggles. He did not have the resources to do both. The magical world was not united or trained well enough to even try. He couldn't waste time on debates. He acted.
For months, the magical world that still existed rallied behind him, as he went from place to place, deathly Hallows in hand thanks to Dumbledore's left behind memories. Elder wand casting protections even the goblins couldn't find and break down. Creating nature reserves for their potions materials and the magical beings they could save. Small towns shielded together with them, to hold the dwindling magical population. Everyone put to work on creating what could be used to defend themselves. To fight back.
In that time, the enslaved wizards working under the Dread Lord's leading the invasion took control of the leadership and militaries of the world. And started enslaving the population and taking it off world, to continue to feed the legions ever marching armada. When they weren't slaughtering them for their own amusement, or having wars between different muggle countries. A enjoyed pastime, like a chess match between Dreadlord's. By the time the magical world had safeguarded its people and resources to the best of their ability, over 3 billion people were either dead or enslaved. The rest lived in constant fear and war. Hope no longer existed, only the grim purpose of fighting for another day.
Despite being a teenager, despite having not defeated Voldemort yet. Harry Potter was the leader of the magical resistance. He had put out the call to defend themselves, to hide. He had used the elder wand to ensure they stayed protected. Even those few 'dark' purebloods that still lived, followed Harry Potter. Even wiser older wizards and witches, ICW members, the president of MACUSA. They all deferred to Harry eventually, as the months ticked by. Whether correctly recognizing the people's will. Or seeing that in a war for existence, those who could fight should also lead.
Harry had hated every moment at the beginning. Hated how everyone looked at him. Hated how he had to be the one to take charge while everyone else panicked. Hated that he had to make the choice to sacrifice the muggle world. Hated the way Hermione couldn't look him in the eyes anymore after that. Hated that he was good at it. Eventually he was just too tired for hate, and just kept fighting, for lack of anything else to do. Fighting for his life, he knew how to do.
He started creating teams, an army divided into small squadrons, trained to go out and hit the enemy where it hurt. Not its endless minions. But it's commanders, the goblins assisting them. The enslaved wizards and witches. He himself would lead a team, and soon became a feared enemy of the Legion. The bane of the Dreadlord's.
His heart became ever heavier as he ordered the death of the goblins in their tunnels to remove a tool from the legions arsenal. The order to stop trying to save the slaves as they were so corrupted and broken they wasted resources trying to mend them. The order to unleash unforgivables freely against the demons. Casting them himself until they were easy.
Yet the war was never ending. Day by day, more muggles died. Day by day the planet was sucked dry of everything of worth. They slowed it down. They interrupted the work, assassinated and even destroyed large swaths of the enemy forces in a few large pitched battles. Yet the Legion carried on.
On it went. A year. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. The world was no longer anything but a few hidden bubbles of magical enclaves. And world encompassing camps of demons, the world rotting in their abuse, humankind practically extinct. The magical world no longer resembled its predecessor. Everyone, man, woman and child were taught how to fight, and if necessary kill. Magic was no longer constrained, research was unfettered. Dark magic now simply something requiring a cleansing ritual after use and not something stigmatized. New discoveries, new peaks of magic reached, yet all simply to stay alive.
And finally, after such a long time. They had found a way. Not to save Earth. That was no longer possible. They had a way off the planet. And more importantly, they had a way to kill the demons infesting their home, if they had to leave it, at least they'd get to make a funeral pyre to scorch the Legion for it.
It had all come back to Voldemort again. The prophecy unfulfilled still. Although Harry was not a Horcrux and Voldemort was now a Dreadlord, they could still use the magical connection they had between another, tied in prophecy, not as strong as their old connection, but it would do. It was even better that Voldemort had been transformed, as it gave him greater ties to the demonic horde holding the planet. Especially as after the first few years of amusement, most of the Dreadlord's and other monstrous commanders had left earth, tired of being assassinated and having to reform in the twisting nether. Leaving Voldemort in charge.
In the end, perhaps Voldemort could have broken through their defenses if he had been so inclined. Instead of spending energy on researching for their defeat, he spent it plotting on how to overthrow his master's and take charge of the Burning Legion. Giving Harry enough time to continue the war, train the men and women under him. Until the time came to finally strike, and put an end to it.
After twenty years of war and death and seeing everything they loved corrupted. The ending was anticlimactic. Voldemort was so uncaring about the threat of turtled up magicals he had been caught unawares. Harry caught him in the ritual at Stonehenge, utilizing the deathly Hallows and a carefully researched and planned out ritual to tie Voldemort to all the demons on earth. Harry finally killed him in the end, with wand and sword. Voldemort taking the horde with him to the twisting nether in death, swearing to return.
His complete and utter failure and loss of the planet would hopefully ensure the madman was tortured for an eon instead of returned to fight. Either way the magical world turned to finding a new world to inhabit. Utilizing that they learned from the portal magics of the Legion. And the end result was Azeroth.
What was left of the magical world united behind Harry Potter, crowning him king to his utter disgust, and emigrated away from the burnt husk of their Homeworld.
With one burning thought ingrained into their very souls.
Magic kind would not suffer a demon again, ever!
The Gryffin guard had been the first military units through, named simply enough as they rode Gryffins, and had been drawn mostly from old Gryffindor alumni and other people crazy enough to train to ride a Gryffin.
A majestic half eagle half lion creature landed right in front of Harry, bowing its head, its rider jumping off and saluting. Giving her ride an affectionate pat on the head with her other hand.
Harry sighed fondly, "Knock that shite off Katie." He ordered, knowing it wouldn't stick, but refusing to give up. He didn't need old friends saluting him or bowing or any of that tripe.
Katie Bell, the Gryffin company commander and adrenaline junkie that had flown as many missions as was possible against the Legion. Somehow surviving being shot down on three separate occasions. Even getting close to fifty, she, just as the rest of them, looked in her early thirties at the most. Magic had its advantages.
"Yes sir! His holiness, the big cheese, Mr. Majestic, man who wears the big pants, sir!" She cheerfully responded with an impish grin. Then she saluted him again. Lionheart, her favourite mount ruffling its feathers in amusement behind her.
"I hate you. You do realize this Katie." Harry said long sufferingly. Even then, he couldn't help but feel a tugging at his lips. Katie was absolutely impossible to get mad at. The only surviving member of the old Gryffindor chasing team always weirdly upbeat.
"Technically, it's Commander Bell if you want to be all official like and such, you biggest of Majesties." Katie said, and then saluted again with a wink.
Katie was one of the people from back in the day that didn't now treat Harry like he was a saviour, king and messiah, all rolled into one. No wonder he could only shake his head with a small smile breaking out. As much as he wanted to gripe at her, she was just too cheerful to come down on. Unfortunately he also didn't have time to stand and joke around either.
"Take your riders and scope out these goblins and everything else of interest in this area. Do not engage, I just want information." He ordered. He doubted the enemies could muster anything close to a danger to them, especially on short notice, they were goblins after all. They were all proficient in killing their kind now. "Being seen doesn't matter at the moment, our defenses will be up long before they can probe us. Just be quick and watch out, we don't know how high of a reach any weapons or magic these beings have capabilities for."
Katie saluted again and climbed up on Lionheart. "You want to tell me how to get dressed too, Your Majesty?" She teased, before turning serious. "Don't worry Harry, I'll bring them all back alive and get your information too."
Harry watched her take off, Lionheart kicking up a cloud of dust as she took to the sky, he watched nostalgically as several dozen riders spread out. He would miss the days where he was out there with them. Apparently Kings were not allowed to scout ahead. He'd found when he was elected to an absolute monarchy he paradoxically had less power. As suddenly people really didn't want him to be the tip of the spear anymore. He also was saddled with bodyguards, instead of a team. Speaking of…
"Gabrielle, your men would be of better use helping set up the perimeter." He ordered mildly.
The head of the basilisk guard materialized from thin air, scowling at him. Even scowling she was still absolutely beautiful, living up to her Veela heritage. As all of the elite guard, she was clad in treated basilisk leather armor, dark green scales glittering in the evening sunlight. It was very magically resistant, unfortunately not around in enough quantity to do more than dress his personal soldiers, now transformed into his guards, in peace. A job they unfortunately took very seriously.
He preempted her coming denial, raising a hand and speaking quietly, "You hardly need all of your men to stand around uselessly with me Gabby, keep four if you must, send the rest to help."
"If you got your way you'd be without protection while going alone into the heart of an army. " She said, arms crossed beneath her ample chest. "I'm not letting you slip your protection…Again."
So Harry might have given them the slip a few…Dozen times. He valued his privacy. Besides, he didn't plan to do so now. For now… He opened his mouth to say so and Gabrielle shook her head and went invisible again, refusing to even entertain an argument. He shook his head amusedly, maybe he should play nice for a week or two before slipping off again. Let her cool off. She was worse than her sister for having a temper. And Fleur set people on fire when she was upset. Thank Merlin, her children were more level-headed.
"Harpy incoming to the left." A whisper came out of thin air.
Harry sighed heavily. "She is not a Harpy Gabby." Yet, he set his face impassively and turned to face her.
Hermione had grown into a beautiful woman, although never quite managing to tame her hair, even now at their age it was still everywhere. Her beauty was only marred by the frown she always wore when she went near him. He felt the pang of loss in his heart everytime, yet he had to soldier on, putting on a polite face, showing nothing of his emotions. "What can I do for you Miss. Granger."
"Nothing, Your Majesty. I am simply here on behalf of the Council of Knowledge." Hermione stopped the perfect ceremonial distance away, polite smile on her face, hands held demurely in front of her stomach. It's what they were now. Standing on ceremony and fake politeness. And on behalf of his kingly ass, she was the chair of the Council of Knowledge. The organization created to catalogue, test and create magic in the beginnings of the Legion war. They were the ones that decided what magic was researched and how. It had only taken her five years to become its leader. If she was here it's because she decided it.
"And what information does the Council have for me, Archmage Granger." Harry switched to complete formality. The easiest way to deal with his former friend. Maybe one day he would be allowed to stop sacrificing everything good in his life for others. Not likely, he scoffed to himself in his thoughts.
"We have tested the magic saturation and feel confident that any space expanding charms will not be adversely affected." Hermione answered primly. Hermione being confident was the same as it being true as far as Harry was concerned when it came to magic. This was good news.
Harry nodded, "That is important information, thank you for bringing it to my attention so promptly." He watched mutely as she murmured a quiet pleasantry and turned on her heels, quickly apparating back to wherever she had set up stakes.
Harry twitched his hand and the elder wand fell into his palm. "Expecto Patronum." He intoned, some days still amazed he even had enough happy feelings to be able to produce his patronus. "Ron, you can begin setting up the tents, organize the logistics, Hermione says the space expansion won't be adversely affected after all."
The Stag patronus flew off in a flash of silver to let Ron know, so that they could start setting up the tents to house his people. Magic made the task much easier now that they knew they could safely utilize the tents, whole homes inside. The comfort of Prongs sometimes the only reminder there was still parts of that boy from so long ago in him. These days he thought he could finally empathize with Dumbledore. To live on with your great mistakes and burdens, even as people worship you for it.
"You go too easy on that woman." Gabrielle reappeared to say, hand fingering her wand. The Veela never managed to get along with his old friend. They simply saw duty in a different way, and both were scarily efficient in their own way. Harry had never dared to say to either of them that they were amazingly alike.
"In many ways I deserve her coldness, the people that suffered my decisions no longer exist to bring me to task for all that I've done." Harry muttered, running a finger over the ring on his right hand, the one carrying the resurrection stone. Truly he was the master of death. No other human could claim as many lives as he had been responsible for killing.
"You made the only choice." Gabrielle countered, an argument they'd all been living in for two decades.
"Maybe, but that doesn't make it right. Nor does it stop her from suffering from it." Harry knew that there still existed a minority of muggleborns that hated him. He couldn't blame them, nor Hermione. He had sentenced her parents to death, just as if he'd done a Voldemort and walked up and used the killing curse on them himself.
What difference was there? Harry knew one difference… His parents had not suffered, they had gotten a quick death. That could not be said for the billions Harry condemned to torture, slavery and becoming food or ritual parts before finding their death.
"This is an old argument and hardly worth it. Leave me to my thoughts for now Gabby. We'll have plenty to talk about and to do soon enough." He said morosely. Feeling the head of the basilisk guard fading away again.
Soon enough there would be work to be done. Maybe one day, redemption.
Hermione sighed as she reappeared just outside the area where the Council of Knowledge had already set up their tent before she went to speak to Harry. Or Hadrian the first as he was now. Having to see him always made her head hurt. Just revisiting all the old wounds. The arguments and fights she couldn't win.
She shook her head, trying to divest such emotional issues as she lifted the flap and entered the small purple tent. A whole world of difference appeared as she entered. The inside appeared as the inside of a tall tower, so high the top couldn't be seen, every wall a never-ending bookshelf. And in the middle is a round table with six seats. One for each councilor of Knowledge.
She wished she had been on the council from its inception. The six seat rule was ridiculous. It had been meant to ensure ties on decisions were possible. The old magicals not wanting to rush into things, the seats still held by the old power brokers at the time. So decisions could be three against three. At which point the matter was tabled for a year, and could not be revisited before then. In a perfect world it might even have worked.
She eyed her fellow councillors as she walked up to the table. Nodding with a small smile at Minerva McGonagall and Babajide Akingbade. Her cohorts on the council. Giving a small polite nod to Newt Scamander and Filius Flitwick. Harry's creatures one hundred percent. And the last councilor, the one who had gleefully spent over a decade as the man in the middle, capable of siding with her opposites to permanently table her ideas. Or give her a majority if she managed to 'convince' him to side with her.
The last councilor. Augustus Rookwood. When Malfoy had come to beg for succor and in a panic. The intelligent Rookwood, seeing the Burning Legion for the trap it was, had grabbed like minded death eaters and descended on Voldemort's ministry. Stealing the department of mystery, staff and artefacts all, except for what couldn't be moved, like the archway. Correctly assuming, that even with a demon invasion Harry would be loath to accept them without an amazing offer. Also figuring out before most of the 'light', that Harry would take charge.
It had been one of the first of a slippery slope of dangerous decisions and outright insane ones he would take soon after. The decisions that had convinced Hermione he had lost everything that made him Harry and started their alienation. And now she couldn't get anything done without the old death eater. She hated every minute of it. The man was absolutely brilliant, half the inventions that had succeeded in the demon war had belonged to him. He didn't even come off as a bigot anymore, but Hermione could not let go of memories from before. She couldn't forgive, no matter how useful he became. She was the chairwoman, in charge of their discussions and granted the title Archmage, because of flipping him the first time at a great cost. If she had known beforehand how minor such a position would be in terms of power over the others, she wouldn't have made such a deal.
"Augustus." She greeted with a small smile, eyes cold.
"Dear Hermione, how is our all powerful King?" Augustus asked mockingly, leaning back in his plush green chair, decorated in silver snakes. The wonders of magic had restored much of his appearance, although he still held a gaunt look.
"Fine enough, I trust nothing too important was said in my absence." Hermione answered sharply, not interested in bringing Harry into any kind of discussion.
"Nothing of consequence, Hermione." Minerva assured her. And that still tickled Hermione pink, her once mentor and idol deferring to her.
"Not like we could do anything without our auspicious chairwoman present anyway." Augustus chuckled dryly.
"If there was anything important that needed major attention could we get to it? I am sure we are all excited to study this new world, I'm honestly surprised Newt hasn't hexed us all and skipped out to pet the nearest beast." Filius said, sending his companion a knowing look.
Newt was indeed practically vibrating in his chair. Sending Hermione a pleading look. A pleasant surprise to the witch, as her usual interactions with the revered magizoologist tended to be adverse and heated.
"Oh, go on then." She sighed, knowing they all were pretty keyed up to test and explore the differences of this magic rich world. Hardly had the words left her mouth before Newt ran out the tent with a sprightliness of a man forty years younger.
Filius sighed with a soft smile, vanishing his cushions with a flick of a wand and starting after his friend. "I best be along with him, ensure he doesn't get eaten. Again."
Hermione turned to Rookwood, who simply stared back at her with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm not leaving, I have plenty of time to experiment when the vanguard has ensured everything is safe." The old death eater pointed out dryly. "If you want a Granger camp pow wow, you'll have to suffer through me listening."
McGonagall and Babajide sent him pointed looks that he promptly ignored, conjuring himself a tea set and calling for an elf to come bring biscuits and evening tea.
Hermione grit her teeth, Augustus knew exactly how much elves in servitude drove her barmy. Even with laws preventing abuse and allowing for elves to be free should they choose, precious few elves ever chose to make that leap. And unfortunately when they did, they tended to take dangerous infiltration duties with the military instead of something more sensible.
"I think we can wait until a perimeter is properly defended." Hermione decided, sitting down for tea. She pointedly did not use an elf for the job, ignoring Augustus chuckles.
A previous headmistress of Hogwarts and a former Supreme Mugwump of the ICW looked to her for leadership, she would not let Augustus Rookwood humble her.
Harry stood in the clearing all evening. In sight of his people, letting them come to him and ask for advice, for orders or for simple reassurance. Just being present helped them. Moving to another world was a scary thing for those that had been covering the homefront and had never had to grow jaded and bitter seeing the world falling apart.
He knew Draco would be busy yelling at the army, getting every inch of every surface around their camp warded to hell and back. With lookouts covering every inch just the same, in case the beings of this world could just ignore their wards. Neville would no doubt be mediating with his cadre of geomancers, preparing themselves, feeling out the nature of this world. Eventually they'd be in charge of terraforming it back from what those goblins had done to it.
Gabrielle melted out of the shadows, a pinched expression on her face. Harry recognized it immediately and groaned, just when he thought the evening had been going so well. "What went wrong?" He asked tiredly.
"James and Lily gassed their protection detail and slipped outside camp, best as we can guess at least two hours ago." Gabrielle reported, a hitch in her voice. The French woman had basically raised the kids beside him after all while on his team.
"Why must they take after their grandfather and his friends?" Harry groaned, rubbing his temples. New world, unknown dangers, no idea of enemies, allies or the land. Of course his kids would do something like this.
I was never this stupid as a teenager! Harry swore to himself as he stalked off, Gabrielle firing off several patroni informing those that needed to know.
They had to gather up a hunting party.