I do not own Fire Emblem or Harry Potter. Fire Emblem belongs to Nintendo and Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. All song lines belong to their original singers. I own all original characters and the plotline.

Chapter VI:

Distante Collegato

. . . I gave you wings of fire, so you could chose to fly with me . . .

-'Until' by ATC

"You. Did. WHAT!"

Lord Nergal's voice echoed violently in the emerald halls of the Dragon's Gate, shaking dust from the tops of elaborate banisters and statues. Sonia flinched as her master's face became contorted in fury, fury such as she had never seen directed towards herself. She fell to her knees, fighting back tears and sobbing cries to keep her voice only slightly hysterical. "Master, I was foolish! I thought they would be out of our way! I-I did not know!" Her pleading fell upon deaf ears and Nergal turned his single visible eye upon her with narrowed, vicious vengeance.

"Did you even consider," he snarled, glowing the darkest of black colors. She knew that he would never harm her; the building magic was simply a sign to not anger him, "That this other world would have power not known on Elibe, or this entire miserable planet? That this power could be used to destroy our plans? That sending them there could kill you, my perfect being!" At this last statement, Sonia knew that she was safe. She took a small breath to steady herself and stood to look him in the eye.

"But Master, this power we do not possess, could we not use it to our advantage? They have a Dark Lord too, much weaker then you Master, for he is still chasing immortality with vain ideals and broken experiments. We could manipulate him and his followers to our advantage and we could use that to conquer both worlds."

A pleased smile began to stretch across Nergal's pale face and his eye returned to its normal shade of reddish brown. The idea seemed never to have occurred to him in his anger towards her. "Yes, that is a brilliant plan. I was right Sonia, you are perfect in every way." Her ego swelled at the compliment. "Go to this world and carry out your plan."

She gabbed the back of her long dress and gave a ridiculously low curtsey, keeping her fox-like golden eyes upon her master's face. "I live to serve you, Master."

"While your there, kill that annoying Lycian boy, Elbert's son. Make sure he never sees Elibe again. But bring back Ninian and Nils, I still need them for my plans."

Sonia tipped her head, as her mind formulated dozens of plans for her revenge on that miserable little fencer and his would-be 'mighty army'. "I will, Master. You will never see him again."

He threw his hand lazily aside, dismissing her from their conversation. Sonia stood up straight, focusing her mind on how she had sent Eliwood and his fellows away from the Water Temple and vanished in a telaportation circle of Anima magic. Once his vassal was gone, Nergal turned his head towards the looming and onyx wall of the true Dragon's Gate.

"Limstella!" he commanded with his voice ringing in the hall. There was another flash and rustle of Anima magic and another of his morphs appeared. Unlike Sonia, Limstella bore the appearance of a noblewoman, with delicate and refined facial features and a slim build suited for a runner. She bowed to her master, hands clamped tightly by her side while her golden eyes never left his face.

"I want you to go with Sonia to this other universe. Make sure she knows nothing of your presence there. I want you to find the hero of that world and bring him to me. Tempt him with anything he wants, he is a stupid little boy." Nergal's voice was quick, as though he wanted none other to hear his words.

"Yes milord," she said in her usual cool, dignified voice. Nergal continued speaking in the same quick tones. "Make sure you get him here and on his own free will, don't hypnotize him. He has a magical power that is very strong, very raw and untainted deep within his soul. He is also the great-great-great grandson of a very influence and gifted individual, the Count Alexander de Draco of Bern."

Limstella got the hint and nodded her head with stray strands of purple-black hair falling across her pale face. "Yes milord." She too was gone in seconds, with a pentacle of red magic fading away from the marble floor. Nergal smirked and looked again at the Dragon's Gate.

"So, Alexander, this is where you were hiding all these years, you miserable little traitor."

There was another surge of strong magic, such as the kind he had felt last night with the arrival of Eliwood and his companions. Harry shuddered for a moment, feeling weak in his knees and slightly light headed for a minute. "Harry?" asked Tonks worriedly, looking up from where she was trying to pull out the Dursley's electric fire. Even with Hector tugging on the thing, it was fastened firmly to the wall. Uncle Vernon had personally cemented the appliance into the back of the fireplace so it could never be pulled out again.

He shook his head, hiding a wince as a headache grew inside his temples. "I'm fine Tonks."

"Damnit! Why. Won't. You. Move!" snarled Hector with his eyes narrowed in fury, reaching for his axe to chop the thing off the wall. He seemed to dislike being shown up by an inanimate object. Eliwood smiled lightly and cut across his friend's whispered profanities. "We're probably going to have to pay for that if you break it."

Removing his hand from the axe, Hector turned back to Tonks. "What was that other way you said we could do?" he asked snappishly.

"Turn you five into animals, me and Remus telaport and Harry walk to London carrying a twenty pound trunk." The idea seemed to especially scare Ninian and Nils, Harry caught sight of their petrified faces from next to Lyndis.

"MOVE!" yelled Hector, tugging on the electric fire. With a crack, it flung out bringing plaster and dust out with it. "Ha! I knew I'd get it," he smirked, legging go of it. The front of his hair and eyebrows had been covered in the dust and dry plaster, giving a whitish-gray edge to them. He turned to Lyn, standing with a smirk. "And you said I couldn't do it." The Sacean did not comment but stared stonily at Hector with her arms crossed over her torso.

"Well, I'll get it back in before we leave. Tonks, you can light the fire," said Lupin, looking over to where the Dursleys were covering in fear behind the kitchen door. They had not taken to the arrival of two wizards and five absolute strangers sitting in their living room, probably especially nervous about the neighbors seeing any of Eliwood's friends.

Hector scowled darkly, probably angry his hard work wouldn't last long and Lyn gave him a sort of smile that said 'ha ha'. Tonks pointed her wand into the empty grate and licked her lips lightly. "Incindio!" she commanded, jumping on the balls of her feet for an added, unneeded effect.

A blast of fire erupted in the darkened grate, bringing unwanted warmth into the already humid living room. Hector blinked twice in interest, looking at the flames. "Wow, so that thing's like a portable Anima mage that doesn't talk back at you when you insult it?"

"Uh, whatever you say . . ." said Tonks, scratching the back of her head, understanding nothing of what Hector said.

Nils, who's attention had turned to the curtained window, gasped and quickly moved towards it, pressing his nose inches from the glass. "Lady Lyn! It's Lord Pent!" He sniggered then. "And . . ."

"What?" asked Lyn, peering out the window as well, "What is he wearing?"

Harry's head jerked up and turned to where the others had clambered towards the window. That surge of magic he had felt, his quick lightheadedness and weakness, was that all from the arrival of these people? When the door chime rang, he heard Aunt Petunia march across the hall from her safe position by her husband. Then came her famed, shrill scream, normally signaling the arrival of a witch or wizard.

Harry listened as the door slammed shut, then opened minutes afterwards. A man's cool voice, with a very airy and light British-like accent, spoke a word of apologies and entered the lounge. He was a very formal looking man, albeit strange in Harry's opinion. His silvery hair was pulled into a loose ponytail thrown over his right shoulder, his light – near transparent – gray-blue eyes kind and flickering with the sort of power Dumbledore and McGonagall showed in their eyes. He wore a dark blue polo shirt, jeans and leather boots under a thick overcoat that reminded Harry of Mundungous Fletcher's. The look really didn't suit him well. Despite his hair, he looked very young, maybe only twenty-five.

"Bit funny that woman was. So, seems you five have gotten along well." Harry noticed how the others bowed their heads respectfully. The man – Pent as Nils had said seconds earlier – turned to Harry and frowned, eyes looking him up and down. "You are . . . ?"

"Harry Potter," answered Lupin. Pent still had that interested look in his eyes as he examined Harry's thin face and cat-like green eyes, traveling up to his infamous scar.

"Lord Pent?" asked Ninian, still shivering in her wet garments. Pent seemed to snap out of a sort of trace and turned towards the girl.

"It's nothing, I mistook him for someone else for a minute." Lupin raised one eyebrow but said nothing.

"What the hell are you wearing?" asked Hector without preamble, a grin on his face.

Pent grit his teeth for a moment but did not answer the navy-haired axe man, much to Hector's distaste. "Well, your from, where ever their from?" asked Tonks to Pent and Harry noticed a faint blush in the auror's cheeks. He fought the urge to crack a grin.

The silver haired man nodded. "I'm an acquaintance of theirs, yes. Pent of Reglay," he said, extending a hand for her to shake.

"Nymphadora, Nymphadora Tonks," said Tonks, shaking the hand overzealously, "Isn't it a nice name?"

Harry barely hid a snigger and Remus had turned dark red, from either embarrassment or anger. Lyn looked amused to, she was barely able to hide her silent laughing. Eliwood was about to say something but Hector stopped him by jerking his elbow into his friend's stomach. Pent went crimson and swallowed, clearly very unsettled.

"Um, Lady Nymphadora, I'm very pleased to meet you, but . . . I'm married." Tonks went a darker red then the Weasley's hair. "Oh, uh . . . S-Sorry . . ."

"That's okay . . ."

A sudden rush of warmth re-entered her body. She gasped for breath, her lungs burning in agony as she gulped in chilled air. Her eyes snapped open for the first time in months, her body shaking with cold and fatigue. She was lying on the dewy ground of some sort of castle. A lake was nearby with a glittering pale blue surface while the smells of a forest wafted over to her. She sat up, her joints stiff and cracking when she moved.

"How? How is this possible? Jaffar KILLED me!" she shouted to nobody in particular, knowing how insane she sounded.

Now, now, yelling won't solve anything.

She looked around for the voice. Her range of vision was constricted by the fact her neck still bore the place where the assassin's dagger had sliced it. The wound had healed over, making a very raw area, but she could not move her neck too often or too quickly.

"Who are you!" she demanded.

I brought you back. Do not worry.

"How?"

I am an elder druid. You life was not to end at that time. You are still needed.

"Why?"

It is not my place. Find your own destiny, Lady Spy.

She swallowed painfully and asked the question on the tip of her tongue. "Is Matthew . . .?"

Yes. You will meet him soon, LeilaShe stood. "Where am I?" There was no answer from the voice. "Hello!" Still silence. Leila placed a hand on the hilt of her dagger her fingertips brushing the cool wire-wrapped hilt. It was good to know she still had it. Standing, she saw her clothes were stained with dirt with blood on the neck of her tunic. Sighing, she turned to the large castle behind her.

"I have to find some sort of shelter. This is as good as any to start with."

Walking, she fingered the ring on her right index finger. It had been a gift from Matthew, right before they had enlisted into House Ostia's service. The band was silver, half of a blue gem resting in it. Engravings were around the jewel, carved in Lycian, and read the proverb she had always said as a child.

"'You scratch my back, I scratch yours.' How true," she said with a smile, "Oh Matthew, I'm glad we could see each other again."

Alexandria Mark of Ostia – the Lady Tactician of Lord Eliwood known commonly as Firefly – wasn't the kind of person meant for battle, which was why she had taken to be a tactician. That was one reason; the other was because she didn't like armor much. So, cursing Sonia and all the woman stood for, she sat up and rubbed her sore head.

"Blimey, if this is what it feels like to have a hang over I'll never, ever drink again," she moaned, her ice blue eyes looking around her. One thing was sure, she'd never seen ANY place like this in her extensive travels of Elibe. A cobble street was lined with shops and she, along with a few others from their make-shift, rag tag army, was in an alleyway between a bookshop and an animal shop. Despite the fact none of her employers were there, she found the situation rather okay. At least she wasn't dead, or severely injured. Sighing heavily, Firefly knelt down by the limp body of Harken and shook the knight awake with a mad smile crossing her tan face.

"Wakie, wakie lummox!" His navy eyes flickered open and he scowled at the sight of her face. "St. Elimine's grievance, not you," he moaned, sitting up. She put her hands on her hips and frowned. "Ah, is that a hint of sorrow I detect in the voice of Sir Harken the Brave?"

"Silence," he hissed, picking up his sword and shield, both of which were next to him. His face paled as he looked to the other three people lying with them. "Where is Lord Eliwood?" he asked sharply.

"No idea, I just woke up ding-dong."

"I have no time for your antics Firefly Mark!" he snarled and looked at the other unconscious soldiers by them. Farina, Geitz and Karel all were there, Farina's Pegasus lay by her mistress. She swallowed hard and cursed herself for her lack of tactics as her eyes fell upon Karel's limp, bloodied body.

The Swordmaster had apparently been fighting a lance wielding soldier and a Mage at the same time, for his wounds were numerous and different in origin. His dark hair was mattered with blood, his arm covered in blistering burns. The wounds from a spearhead crisscrossed and overlapped each other over his chest, staining his navy coat black with blood. She bit her lip and fumbled in her drawstring bag for something.

"Dammit, no elixirs or vulneries," snapped Firefly, "Harken, go find help." The knight didn't object and hurried off.

Firefly rubbed her temples. "Blimey, I need a pay raise for this Eliwood . . ."

End Chapter VI: Distante Collegato

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