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 VII:

Disposizioni

. . . Firefly come back to me, make the night as bright as day . . .
-'Firefly' by ATeens

Albus Dumbledore had experienced many odd things in his extensive lifetime, none of which ever included an army from another world appearing scattered throughout England. The situation had spread quite quickly to the Ministry and it was apparent they did not sit well with the accommodations. With a heavy sigh, Dumbledore turned back to the fuming Minister of Magic. Fudge was dressed sloppily, unlike his usual pristine pinstripe suit, showing the stress the middle-aged man had gone through these past few months with the return of Voldemort, the complaints about safety from foreign representatives and now the whole mess with these people.

Fudge took a quavering breath and prattled on in anger. "Dumbledore, I just can't see the logic in this, not at all. Around the country, people with WEAPONS of DESTRUCTION appear out of nowhere, you swallow their crack-pot tale of being from another world still living in the past and ENLIST over thirty people to be the new professor for the MOST important subject in the school?"

"That sums it up Cornelius. Is there anything else you would like to ask me?" asked Dumbledore with his trademark smile.

Fudge went red in fury and Dumbledore continued talking. "The reason I asked them to do this is because I seriously doubt Voldemort will have the knowledge to fight against their form or magic or fighting. Plus, Harry is safer with some of them serving as a body guard."

"You hired these, these BARBARIANS to protect Harry Potter!"

"If I need not remind you, your protection for the boy last year was sending your secretary to make his life, oh how do I say it, a living hell."

The minister reddened even more. "That does not excuse the fact that one has a DRAGON with him."

"I believe that is a Wyvern, Minister, not a dragon. Hyperion does not breath fire."

"It doesn't matter! They're still . . ." Fudge fought for words to describe the people he had seen earlier, his eyes near desperate.

"Listen to me Cornelius, they will be helpful. Besides, Lord Pent already senses Harry's power."

Fudge was confused and crossed his arms to glare sharply at the elder wizard. "I don't understand Dumbledore."

"Don't you remember exactly who James Potter's great-great grandfather was?" asked Dumbledore sadly.

"Yes, Count Alexander de Draco, a very powerful sage and the only person to ever master a dragon animagus form." Fudge narrowed his eyes as he thought. "Records state the man drowned himself after discovering the woman he raped was the daughter of the head of the International Confederation of Wizards."

"Yes," sighed Dumbledore, "And I'm afraid Harry inherited more then the family name."

Ignoring Fudge's confused, sputtering face, the aged Headmaster stood from his desk. "I must go. Poor Minerva and Alastor must be tired of their visitors in the headquarters."

With that, Dumbledore swept from his office, leaving Fudge dumbstruck and angrier then ever.

Eliwood had never experienced traveling by Pent's telaportation and never wanted to experience it ever again. Coupled with the nauseous feeling and the hard, off core landing, he really wished he'd considered Tonks' option longer. Sitting up and rubbing the back of his head that had collided with the hard stone floor, he looked around with pain searing across the electrical wounds on his neck. "Feels like home," he muttered, looking around the vast hall. It was decorated in rich colors of indigo and platinum-white silk with suits of armor between paintings that seemed to blink at him in a whimsical sort of way. Behind him, the Lord Pent smiled and extended a hand to help the young lord up.

"Sorry, I never really mastered that," he said with a bow of his head.

"Just tell Firefly that, and with the right distance that'd be pretty useful in battle," said Eliwood with a bit of black humor.

Lyn muttered something in her native tongue, probably profanity, rubbing the arm she landed on. "You really need to work on that landing there." Hector was desperately trying to free the axe that had sunk into the floor.

"Stupid. Thing!" he snapped between curses. Chuckling, Pent lifted it easily from the floor with a wave of his hand. "I didn't need help!"

"Well, get comfortable. The owner of this estate has granted us residence, for a price."

"The price?" asked Ninian, helping her little brother up. She seemed unhurt from the landing, much to Eliwood's relief.

"First, this seems to be a school for witches and wizards, like Dame Nymphadora and her companion. The master of the castle, requests, that we teach the students here about Elibe."

"St. Elimine's graces, I don't want to end up like my number teacher," muttered Hector, swinging his axe lazily behind his shoulder and nearly cutting Lyn's ear off in the process. She gave him a dark glare.

"The second was protection for that boy, Harry Potter."

"What's so special about that kid?" asked Lyn, "He seemed like nothing more then an anorexic teenager."

Again, a misty look entered Pent's pale eyes as he spoke in a voice more airy then his normal speech. "He has a very powerful aura, very unbalanced as well. Ninian and Nils could sense it, am I correct?" All eyes turned to the two siblings. Nils glanced at his sister, who shifted uncomfortably and spoke quietly, though her voice echoed in the empty corridor. "He is strong, untrained and unstable, but unbelievably powerful for somebody so weak in physical stature. With proper training, he could be of the caliber of the Eturian generals."

"That's . . . very interesting. Why couldn't we sense anything?" asked Eliwood in confusion, turning to Pent. The Sage placed his hands in the pocket of his long coat and spoke in a casual, unconcerned fashion.

"Eturian children are taught at a young age to read auras. It gives us a sense of who is trustworthy and who is not, as well as a heightened awareness of those around us. Say if you disguised yourself, and nobody could tell it was you. An Eturian could simply sense your familiar aura and know it was you. Most magic users have a similar ability. Even the weakest Mage could find a friend in a crowd of people. As for Ninian and Nils," he bowed his head towards the pastel-haired siblings, "Their unique abilities are tied with arcane magic, so they can use the same skill."

"That must be a useful talent," said Lyn, her voice peaked with interest, "So you could tell if somebody was lying just by looking at them?" Pent nodded.

"So, as payment for allowing us residence, we're to teach and guard some kids? Shouldn't be too hard," said Hector lazily, "I just want to get some sleep."

Pent sighed deeply and spoke somewhat softer. "The only trouble is that most of our army is scattered. That includes Lady Firefly. The lord of the castle has vassals looking for anybody matching her description, but so far no luck."

Hector gave a slight smile, which quickly left his face. "No offense, but for a while it may be nice not to have her. She's like Serra, except worse, and that's really saying something."

"And we'd all be dead without her Hector," said Lyn with a nasty look. She was on very good terms with Firefly, the girl had brought Lyn to her grandfather and the Sacean's last of kin, plus some of their ideas were surprisingly similar.

"Yeah, well, she's nearly starved us a few times. Three whole days in Nabata we couldn't eat because the only food there was wildlife."

Eliwood only smiled as another argument broke out between his two friends.

Mrs. Weasley sighed as she folded Professor McGonagall's letter in half, a grim sort of expression on her face. "Well, this is a bit of a bother."

"If you don't mind me asking, what is a bother ma'am?" asked Rebecca. The archer had been skimming through one of Ron's charms text books, enchanted by the moving diagrams and drawings, though her attention had quickly turned towards Mrs. Weasley when the witch had spoken.

"Oh, it's nothing serious; in fact it's good news. Professor Dumbledore has found most of your friends and they're at Hogwarts, safe and sound."

"What do you mean, 'most of our friends'?" asked Erk edgily, probably in concern for his charge, Priscilla of Carleon.

"Here's the names of the people whom he knows are safe." Kent took the letter Mrs. Weasley had extended out, his eyes traveling down the list of names very slowly. Several times relief flashed across his features, yet near the bottom of the list he frowned darkly and turned to his partner. "Leila, Leila . . . Wasn't Leila that spy whose body we found on Valor?"

Sain nodded glumly, his eyes downcast. "Poor girl, and Matthew was so upset. Wouldn't talk for quite some time, right?"

"You mean, she's dead?" asked Ginny with sympathetic eyes, which lowered in a sort of respectful pledge towards the dead.

"So this 'Leila' that Professor Dumbledore found is probably an imposter, right?" said Ron, who seemed quite pleased with the fact he was stating obvious facts.

"Unless, by some odd chance, Sonia found another girl named Leila and sent her with us or brought Leila back to life as one of her soulless demons."

Sain glared sharply at the violet-haired Sage, who was buried in his Anima tome and seemed quite undisturbed by his previous comment. "Erk! Stop scaring her."

Erk's violet eyes lifted up to stare into Sain's gray ones. "I'm not scaring her, I'm just telling her the truth."

It wasn't the greatest feeling to have demonic-looking red hued eyes stare at you from the face of an angry sorcerer. Sain sighed but didn't continue the subject, much to Kent's content. The emerald-clad knight turned to where Rebecca was browsing the shelves of Mrs. Weasley's kitchen library. Ron pulled Ginny aside and hissed quietly to her, though why he wanted to keep their topic quiet was unknown to her.

"Do you think we should owl Harry?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will explain everything in due time."

"Last term Dumbledore didn't explain anything!" barked Ron. Ginny chewed her lip, thinking back to the scars that crossed her brother's chest and changed the subject in a hasty tone.

"You're just jealous because somebody OTHER then your best friend is hitting on me," she said in low voice. She smiled widely and slyly as her brother went scarlet and narrowed his blue eyes. "I am not!"

"Explain why you're blushing."

"Sorry to be eavesdropping, but Sain flirts to every girl he meets." It was Rebecca. The Archer smiled sweetly and tugged at one of her viridian braids.

"Listen, I'm really sorry for all this trouble we've caused, but from the bottom of our hearts, thank you for helping Sain." Her eyes turned towards the knight. "He might be annoying, but . . ."

"Trouble's our neighbor, or it just likes us," said Ron with a sigh, running a large hand through his bright red hair.

"If there's anything we could do to make it up to you for our hospitality, don't hesitate to ask." She shifted her weight to one hip, jutting out her quiver a little more. Ginny saw her brother's eyes flicker towards them edgily.

"Can you get ride of those weapons? They're kind of . . . imposing." Rebecca looked at her arrows and ran a thumb through the goose feathers on one shaft, turning towards them in slight confusion.

"Which reminds me, why don't you have any? Don't bandits attack you?"

". . . No . . ." said Ron slowly, giving Ginny a concerned side glance.

Rebecca sighed enviously. "That must be nice. I haven't had a decent night's rest in two months, too many attacks. Then the joyful days on Valor where nobody sleeps unless they decide to risk their life."

Catching the Weasley's shocked looks, she frowned. "Don't you have to defend yourselves SOMEHOW? I mean, you must be the man of the family, right?" Ginny snorted in laughter and Ron's ears went red.

"That's a laugh. We have our dad and five older brothers."

"So where are they?"

"Work."

Rebecca's brow furrowed. "Work? Don't you have a farm?" Ron scowled, taking that as an insult. Ginny didn't mind too much, since most students in her year didn't bother her too much, but Ron had taken far too many insults from the mouth of Draco Malfoy to differ from confusion and cruelty. "No, they're in our government," he said through clenched teeth. She shrank back, her own eyes narrowing. "Well SORRY!" she stood and walked off back towards Wil, who seemed entertained with Ron's magical chess pieces.

"Ron!" snapped Ginny, glaring daggers into his face.

"She just insulted us!"

"THEY LIVE ON SIXTEENTH CENTURY KNOWLEDGE," she snapped in a whisper as not to attract attention, "THEIR WORK FORCE CONSISTS OF KNIGHTS, FARMERS AND ROYALTY."

"Well, that's that." Everyone turned to Mrs. Weasley as she moved towards the fireplace, taking down the flowerpot that contained the family supply of Floo Powder.

"Ma'am?" asked Wil nervously.

"Well, the only way to get an answer is to talk to Professor Dumbledore and the only way to get there is by Floo Powder."

Ron and Ginny exchanged a grin, knowing what will happen.

Nino was still gripping tightly onto Jaffar's arm out of fear and her nails were leaving raw red marks in his tan skin. The house they had entered smelt like mildew and put her in mind of the old headquarters of the Black Fang before they had relocated to the Water Temple. Isadora's horse, Woodfall, was nervously by her mistress and the Paladin was edgy as well. The man with the abnormal eye was still watching them intently, his pupil focused especially upon Jaffar.

"I'm scared," she whispered. The Assassin tightened his grip on her shoulder and his ruby eyes flickered to her sapphire ones. "Don't be," he said in his whisper-soft monotone.

"So, let me understand this," said Isadora smoothly, trying to sound calm and polite, "We're expected to believe that we're in an alternate world about a thousand years ahead of us in technology and that we're being hired as bodyguards for a boy who is the savior to the world?"

"That is correct," answered the old man who had told them the way into the home, Professor Dumbledore.

"I'll have to say that is the most outrageous tale I've ever heard, including that story about the one eyed giant and the pig Firefly told us while she was drunk," said Legault, a thin smile on his face at the memory.

"Well, I tell nothing but the truth. Is there nothing I can do to persuade you that I am honest?"

"Tell us where Lord Eliwood, Hector and our Lady Commanders are," said Lucius politely but firmly, "It would be relieving to know that they are safe."

"They are at Hogwarts, a very secure castle under my possession."

"If it's so secure, why is it named after a pig?" Nino had to smile lightly at Legault's comment. Dumbledore gave a smile to. "I can't answer that question, but I do assure you that they're safe."

Legault sighed and drummed his long fingers on his bare arms. "Let me say this as kindly as I can: we have no proof to trust your word and I for one refuse to believe a word you say until I can here it from the mouth of our commander."

The woman called Minerva bristled violently and raised the twig she had pointed at them earlier. Lucius turned to the man and it was evident that he was getting slightly desperate. "Sir, is it possible that we could SEE one of our, um, superiors and have their opinion on the subject?"

"Do I count as a superior?" asked a woman's cool voice. Turning, Nino saw the blonde Countess Louise with a small smile on her face enter through a room on the right. Nino had to giggle at her clothing choice. Louise was wearing what appeared to be men's trousers, a thin emerald tunic that clung to her body a little to well and her white boots that completed the unique and mismatched ensemble.

"Lady Louise!" Lucius exclaimed, bowing low. Nino saw him wince slightly, probably from his leg wound, though Louise merely gave a polite smile. "Enough with the formalities Father."

"Where is our Lady Commander? Lord Eliwood, Lord Hector, Lady Firefly?" asked Isadora swiftly and breathlessly, her horse nuzzling her owner's neck. Louise smiled. "My dear husband brought them to some castle. They're safe, or Pent's telaport cracked their heads open." This brought a smile to Louise's face for some reason.

Nino sighed and loosened her grip on Jaffar's shoulder. That was a good thing as this time she had drawn blood from the softer flesh of his underarm. Dumbledore smiled again and pulled a round, copper disk from the pocket of his robes. "This disk will take you to the castle where your commanders are."

There was silence, Nino wondering how a simple disk could transport five people to a castle probably miles away. The silence was broken when Isadora spoke in the voice of her norm. "How will my horse get there?"

"That arrangement will be simple and you need not worry. I can assure you, she will be safe."

The Paladin sighed and placed a gauntleted hand on the disk Dumbledore extended. Slowly, the rest of the small group did. Nino exchanged a glance with Jaffar before doing so. With a jerk of pain behind her navel, Nino shut her eyes tightly against the whorl of color and they were gone.

Raven was glaring sharply at Hermione, watching as the brown haired witch poured six mugs of tea from an elaborate pot. She was muttering under her breath, though he caught her final statement. "I've sent a letter to my headmaster, he'll be here hopefully and have some answers."

Meanwhile, Matthew's hazel eyes flickered to the china littering the kitchen shelves then to some of the stranger equipment in the room. He took an apple from the bowl on the counter and took a large bite out of it, his eyes turning towards the microwave. "That'd fetch a nice price."

"Do you even know what that is?" asked Guy in exasperation, taking the apple from Matthew and examining it idily.

"That my friend, is an apple," said Matthew with his crooked smile, then jerked his head towards the microwave, "As for that, it doesn't matter, people will still buy it if it shines."

"Your logic will never cease to puzzle me."

Matthew's grin widened and he took back his apple, speaking afterwards through a mouthful of fruit. "Hey Guy, do you like Serra?" Serra, who was looking at the china as well, turned her head suddenly to the two men.

"Eh?" asked the Myrmidon, turning to his friend who had a smirk on his face.

"Saceans never lie Guy, do you have a crush on Serra?"

"Answer him Guy," said Serra coldly, a change from her usual perky attitude.

"I . . . Where the hell did this come from?" snapped Guy, his face bright red. Matthew grinned madly.

Raven rolled his eyes. "Simpletons. So tell me girl, this world as you put it, does it have any way of detecting . . . blood relatives?"

Now everyone looked at the mercenary who looked quite unembarrassed. Hermione cleared her throat before speaking in a quick voice. "Yes, a blood test would work and there's a potion that if you deposit two drops of two people's blood into that potion, the liquid will turn green if they are closely relate to each other, blue distantly related, red not related at all."

"But no way of determining blood relationships by, oh say, eyesight or a quick spell?" Priscilla gave Raven a nervous look, Hermione a confused one but she nodded her head.

"Yes, but you need the two people to willing comply. Other then that, there's no way."

"Good."

A soft chime rang through the house, from seemingly nowhere. Hermione put down the kettle and ran to the front door. "Stay here," she whispered, "And don't touch anything." She walked swiftly down the front hall and opened the door. There were a few minutes in which a conversation was heard through the hall and the kitchen, though Raven truly had no interest in the topic of discussion. Then an old man who resembled Lord Athos walked into the room, following by Hermione. Out of respect, Guy got to his feet and bowed. It was Sacean custom but that didn't stop Matthew's laugh.

"There's no need," smiled the old man. Hermione was quiet for once and Guy was pleased, her constant questioning for every little detail on Elibean life had really gotten on his nerves. "I am Professor Dumbledore."

"Yeah, we reasoned that. So, do you have any clue on how we could get back to our world? Or better yet, where's Lord Eliwood, Hector and Lady Lyndis?"

"And Lady Firefly," said Priscilla, glaring at Raven for forgetting the blonde tactician. The man sighed, yet still his eyes were still semi-unconcerned. "I'm afraid the only way I can think of for you to get back to your world is by this Sonia woman."

"That's comforting. We might as well move here," said Serra point blankly, "And if we do, I want a mansion with tons of servants."

"Your commanders are safe in Hogwarts." Serra snorted in laughter at the name. "And Lady Firefly?" asked Prisilla again, "Is she safe?"

"That I don't know."

Priscilla's eyes fell and Guy spoke quickly. "So, how many people of our army do you know is safe?"

"About twenty or so."

"And Lady Firefly is not included."

Serra clicked her tongue obnoxiously. "Why do you insist on Lady? She's not a lady, she's a menace!"

"So are you," muttered Matthew. Serra swung her staff to collide with the side of the thief's head. "Dammit that hurt!"

"Well, Miss. Granger, your parents are away?" Hermione nodded. "For the rest of the month, my little sister to."

"Can I ask that these people stay with you the rest of the month?" There was an unusual energetic gleam in Dumbledore's eyes as a smile flickered across his wrinkled face.

"Say what!" yelled Matthew and Serra at the same time. Guy's jaw dropped, while both Priscilla and Raven said nothing, though both seemed equally unconcerned about the arrangements.

"I'll send a letter to your parents. You do have the room, right?" Hermione, frowning for a moment, then nodded. "Thank you Miss. Granger. This will count as extra credit for your lowest assignment." Here her eyes sparkled. "Thank you professor."

Matthew and Serra were engaged in a staring contest, each showing the other resentment and Guy sighed, rubbing his temples. "So, most of our companions are at this castle?"

"That is correct."

"Can I go with them?"

"Sorry."

Firefly unclasped her cloak and wrapped tore off great parts of it, wrapping them around Karel's wounds. She was not as skilled with first aide as she might have wished, and the fabric merely seemed to irritate his skin. He twitched violently when she tied a large section of the brown cloth around his ribcage, merely proving broken ribs and an even greater problem to her. "St. Elimine, help me . . ."

Farina had awoken and, as she too carried no healing equipment, was cursing heavily. "Why oh why, this isn't good. My poor Murphy . . ."

"DING DONG, YOUR COMRADE IS DYING!" Farina waved her hand lazily, narrowing her navy eyes. "I'm a mercenary, comrades live, comrades die, no big."

Firefly felt a vein throb in her temple. "You are disgusting, even Serra is better dealing." The tactician brushed back her blonde hair and felt around in the pockets of her cloak for anything, absolutely anything that could help him. She nearly screamed in joy when her fingers touched a jewel inside the right pocket and she wrenched it out with a brilliant gleam in her blue eyes. It was a cutting from a Mend orb, and it was a gift from Lady Elenora that had come with a slight threat. 'Use it only if anybody is in absolute danger, and if it is my son, I will make sure no army will ever employ you in Lycia again.'

She placed it against Karel's chest, where her wrappings were already soaked through with blood. "Please work, please work," she chanted, trying and failing to sound calm in her desperation. She grinned madly when the cutting glowed with the pale cerulean glow of magic. The cuts and wounds healed themselves in seconds, though the blood still remained caked on his skin and in his hair. Farina raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't know you could use magic Firefly. You'd make much more money as a Mage then as a pathetic tactician."

Firefly ignored her and gently shook Karel awake. "Wake up pretty boy!" she said with her usual wide grin, seemingly forgetting about his wounds. His dark brown eyes flickered opened slowly and she frowned, tilting her head to one side. His eyes were normally hard and cold, like his attitude and fighting style, but now they were softer and glazed with confusion, rather like a child's eyes.

"What happened?" he asked, sitting bolt upright. Even his voice was softer and confused, making him seem younger then his twenty years. He winced violently as he touched the many patches of brown cloth that covered his still tender wounds.

"I healed you and you owe me! I'll go easy on you."

Karel blinked. "And who exactly are you? Or, better yet, who am I?"

End Chapter VII: Disposizioni

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