Now, this one has been a long time in the making. I have to admit, High School DxD is a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine. I honestly think it has a lot of potential with its worldbuilding and character, but is hobbled by its overreliance on fanservice and an aggravating, overly perverted lead who takes way too long to have any real character development. But after my two harem-centric Potterverse crossovers, I wanted to do stories that focused on singular pairings. As longtime followers of my works in general may know, and my High School DxD attempts in particular, two potential pairings sprang to mind for me: Raynare and Rossweisse.

Gabriel Herrol posted a challenge some time ago where a cursebreaker Harry stumbles across the entombed corpses of Ddraig and Albion while on an expedition, and gain their powers from them. I thought the challenge had potential, but I asked for permission to post a modified version, which was granted. My version of the challenge had the physical remains of the Heavenly Dragons underneath Hogwarts, which makes some sense. Leaving aside Hogwarts' motto, which is also the title of this fic, I'd imagine having two powerful creatures like that simply decaying would have Hogwarts sit on a wellspring of magical energy for its wards.

My first attempt at this story, started earlier last year, was promising, but it sputtered to a halt sooner than I liked. But I knew this concept would be brilliant for a Harry/Raynare story. Why? Being a hybrid of effectively two of the most famous Sacred Gears all but ensures Harry is most likely to end up with one of the Underworld factions, at least from a story logic viewpoint (the Devils are drawn to power, and Azazel has his Sacred Gear obsession), and I had already done the Devil side of things for Fall to Zenith and Cambion. I actually examined the Fallen Angels quite a bit for my abortive Harry/Raynare story Azrael Rising, which some of you may remember, and indeed, a lot of what I've written for that story will be reproduced in this one. I wrote a LOT of chapters for Azrael Rising before I realised it wasn't quite right, so hopefully, some of the stuff I wrote for that will see the light of day in this fic.

In addition, Raynare is a character we don't see enough of, in canon, anyway. While she appears to be a two-dimensional starter villain, we have hints in some of her dialogue of more complex motives, and I certainly enjoyed writing her scenes in Cambion. The difficulty is in ensuring Harry not only has the power to match her, but the lifespan too. I've honestly done enough 'Master of Death' stories, I'd rather find other means of ensuring Harry has, if not immortality, then a longer lifespan and power. Gabriel Herrol's challenge and my modification thereof seemed like a good way to do this.

I decided to revive the idea, but changed a few elements from my earlier, unpublished attempt. How Raynare met Harry (the one holding her captive was originally a Magician working for the Grigori, and they were in the Scottish Highlands), what happened to Harry after his rampage (instead of going into hiding, he was captured and tossed through the Veil thanks to surviving Death Eaters, only to end up in the Underworld by way of the Dimensional Gap), etc. Time will tell if this idea works out. But, as always, I hope you enjoy...


DRACO DORMIENS NUNQUAM TITILLANDUS

CHAPTER 1:

THE FALLEN ANGELS AND THE DRAGON WIZARD

He was drowning. Not in water. No water would burn his lungs quite like this, and indeed, it felt like his whole body was burning. Honestly, while this wasn't the worst pain he had felt, it came a close second.

If he could chuckle in the liquid, even as he drowned, he would have. Hell, he would have screamed and raged, that it wasn't fair. After seven years of adventures, this was how it ended. He was not even eighteen, and he was dying.

And the galling thing was, what he had to do was only part-done. The Cup of Helga Hufflepuff was destroyed, true, but the Diadem, Nagini, and Voldemort himself remained. And yet, when Hogwarts shook from one particularly powerful attack, part of the floor collapsed. He had teetered on the edge, his friends looking at him with wide eyes of horror, before he fell. He caught a glimpse of the chamber he had fallen into, the bodies of vast, large dragons, one crimson, the other silvery-blue, before he fell into what seemed like a lake they were sitting in.

The liquid was their own blood, probably mixed in with the products of putrefaction. As intact as those dragon bodies seemed, he was probably breathing in liquefied dragon flesh and other unspeakable substances. No wonder he was in pain. Even drowning, it wasn't a quick death.

But then, he felt something stir within him. Rage. Not the impotent, petulant rage, that of a teenager, that he had been feeling as he died. No, this was something more primal, more profound. He heard a voice within him, and it sounded like his own, but reverberating within him, reciting words he had never known, and yet, felt natural.

"I, who shall awaken…"

He felt himself change and warp. From the brink of oblivion, life began to flood back into his body. And with it, power.

"I am the mortal who took power from the remnants of the rivals. If no miracles exist in the world, then for the sake of those I care for, I will pull down the heavens and tear a miracle from them."

He felt something burst from his back in an extra flare of pain. No, two somethings. He felt something build up in his throat as those two things moved, and suddenly, he was out of the liquid, the blood, flying up, a roar bursting from his throat. Not caring about what was happening for now, he knew he had to end this.

"They shall be evil incarnate, but I will be worse, to rip and tear until it is done. I shall drown my enemies in their own blood, to sink into perdition forevermore. This I do solemnly swear, JUGGERNAUT DRIVE!"


The Underworld. Some, mistakenly, would call it Hell, but it wasn't the afterlife. Just the residence of the Devils and the Fallen Angels. Some would think this point is pure semantic quibbling, but there were no souls of the damned, at least those who were dead, anyway. Of course, given the Evil Piece system, one could argue that much of the Devil population was made up of the dead, but those people would be anal-retentive and contrarian pedants.

Of course, despite the Great War between the Devils and Angels, Fallen or not, sputtering to a halt centuries ago, there exists considerable tension between the Three Biblical Factions. No peace, just an uneasy ceasefire, not helped by two of the most belligerent factions sharing real estate. And while the territory of the Fallen is considerably smaller than that of the Devils, it's still substantial enough to warrant a border between them, with a substantial swathe of land across this territory.

It was technically a demilitarised zone, but in truth, patrols of Fallen and Devils often made their way into the area. Not just to keep an eye on each other, but also to thin out the main inhabitants of these borderlands. In fact, it was for another reason entirely that they were known as the Underworld Badlands.

The thin strip of land had become infested with Stray Devils, and one of the few things the Fallen and Devils could agree on was that Stray Devils were a menace that required extermination. And while this could easily be done to many within the Badlands, more than a few Strays had become powerful, enough to become a threat to many. Thankfully, most Strays were little more than savage monsters, overcome by their own power rampaging out of control, and had never thought of organising into an army. Otherwise, the Devils and the Fallen would really have to pay attention.

Still, many rumours and urban legends grew within the Badlands. And over the past couple of years, one had really grown. The Stray Devil population had gone into something of a decline. Sightings of what appeared to be a Dragon flying through the Badlands abounded, though the beast had never been tracked down. Of course, this was due to it being infrequently glimpsed. It became an urban myth of sorts, albeit in an area far from the cities of the Underworld.

And yet, one day, this myth would emerge into the light, through a chance encounter…


Raynare wasn't expecting to wake up. Of course, waking up on a cold stone floor, paralysed (save for her eyes and her mouth) and naked, was not her idea of a fun time. True, she had mornings where this was the result of a fun time, but she knew that this wasn't one of them.

Especially as the culprit was standing over her, giving her a sinister smile. "Ah, so you're awake. Good."

"What's the meaning of this, Nyder?!" she demanded.

Nyder merely looked down at her contemptuously. "Just the end of this farce. Honestly, why Dohnaseek took you on as his protégé, I have no idea. Can't have been your figure, I know Dohnaseek is a bloodthirsty moron, and he's been banging Kalawarner whenever he actually feels a boner."

Raynare stared at the thin-faced Fallen in shock. Nyder had been a trusted comrade of Dohnaseek's, having Fallen with him. Dohnaseek had even recommended Nyder help show Raynare a few tricks recently, given how their cell was no longer currently on assignment to Earth.

Raynare had come to trust this man over the last little while. True, he had been stern and even a little disdainful, but he had taught her more in the last little while than she had learned in the last century. He'd become a good teacher, a trusted teacher.

She should have known better. Ever since she Fell, for the love of a man who used her, and then pined for the love of another who would never return it. Oh, she had friends, people she let get close, but…she would admit, she was somewhat closed off due to her experiences. And just when she thought it safe, this happened.

The stream of expletives in a variety of languages including, but not confined to, English and Enochian got his attention. "I am offended, Raynare," he said, his aquiline features touched by a smirk. "I never did that with my mother, or livestock, and certainly not in such anatomically impossible ways. I suppose if I did some yoga, got a couple of ribs removed, I might be able to do a couple of them, but I don't feel inclined."

"Like anyone would fuck you with someone else's dick," Raynare retorted.

"Unlike you, Raynare, I don't have a sex life that emulates a black widow spider," Nyder sneered. "And I know you hold a torch for Azazel. But do you think Azazel would ever love you, ever take notice of you? He never would, unless you somehow had a Sacred Gear, not that you'd ever had a chance of having one. Only humans and those with human blood can have them. But you have no chance, of having a Sacred Gear or catching Azazel's eye. He will never love you. Then again, who'd ever love a big-titted whore like you? They'd only be interested in fucking you, assuming you didn't impale them afterwards."

His insults cut deeper than she would ever let him know, despite the fresh stream of multilingual invective she spewed. But looking bored, he waved a hand, and she was silenced. "Enough of that, I should think. The time is ripe for my advent. I've had enough of the Grigori. Perhaps Ophis might value my talents more. But first, I think I need a boost of power. Your sacrifice should help matters. I can just blame a Stray getting the better of you. I don't think anyone will miss you, aside from that flat-chested brat."

Raynare didn't know it, but in other timelines, this latest betrayal would send her down a path that would end with her demise. A path paved with desperation and hatred against a world that mocked her, where her ambition overcame what was left of her scruples, and tainted her soul irrevocably. It wasn't the only time this happened to her, but it was to be the last straw. Her body would be saved before Nyder sacrificed her, by her comrades, but they would be too late to save her heart.

But in this timeline, by chance, she would be saved earlier. And by this, she would walk a different path. One that would not end as darkly.

A distant roar echoed through the cave they were in from outside. Nyder stilled, before returning to his preparations. "Just some Stray whose bark is worse than their bite," he muttered. A louder roar, however, had him stopping. He began looking around the cave. Raynare couldn't, as she couldn't move her head enough to allow her eyes to see what he was seeing, but clearly, he saw enough that had him concerned. "Shit…I should've paid more attention…this is something's lair."

As if on cue, something burst into the cave, stomping over to them with thunderous footfalls. Raynare's eyes widened when she saw the beast confronting Nyder. Was that a fucking Dragon?

It had crimson and silvery-white colouration. Its emerald eyes glowed in the dim light of the cave, glaring at Nyder, a massive maw filled with razor-sharp teeth twisted into a snarl. Oddly enough, there was a scar above one of its eyes, one that looked like a lightning bolt. For some reason, it seemed familiar.

The Dragon looked over to her, and then back to Nyder. Then, it spoke, its voice a deep, tenebrous rumble, like a storm speaking. "What do you think you are doing?"

Nyder might have been able to talk his way out of this, but he panicked, and begun handing out Light Spears like candy at Halloween. This angered the Dragon, the Light-Spears mostly bouncing off, with a few sticking into it, so it grabbed Nyder. "Wrong answer," it snarled.

And then, spoken in a pair of different but equally stentorian voices, she heard a roar, "REAVE!" Nyder screamed in pain, thrashing and spasming.

"Even if this woman was a proper prisoner, you left her naked and paralysed in my lair, and instead of trying to explain yourself, you try to kill me," the Dragon snarled. "I think that makes it clear who I should help."

"REAVE!"

The second dual-voiced roar heralded fresh screaming from Nyder, hoarse and weakened. "Bastard…what are you doing to me?"

"I'm siphoning the power wasted on you and absorbing it, while boosting my own power. But I'm not greedy, and my body can only handle so much, especially as I had already fed before coming back here. But you're going to die anyway."

"Wait, we can make a deal! If you spare me, I can…"

"Bored now." With that proclamation, the Dragon clenched its paw, and Nyder burst like an offal-filled pinata. His head, bleeding from every orifice, popped off his ruined body on a fountain of gore, and rolled over to her. To be honest, Raynare was actually glad. The Dragon's words at least assured her that it was unlikely to turn on her. She hoped, anyway.

After flicking the mortal remains of Nyder from its paw, the Dragon then turned its attention to her. "…Okay, uhh…are you all right? Stupid bloody question, you're naked, that bastard did God knows what to you…can you speak?" Raynare mouthing at it seemed to get it to understand. "Great…well, let's see…I only regained my intelligence recently, so…let's see if this works…Finite Incantatem."

It waved a paw, and Raynare found that she could move. She got gingerly to her feet, even as she wondered how a Dragon was able to use a spell that those inbred retards calling themselves wizards used. Begrudgingly, she said, "…Thanks, I guess."

"…Can you put some clothes on, please?" it asked, looking away, seemingly embarrassed.

Raynare snorted. "The big, bad scary Dragon, embarrassed by a naked woman? More than a few Strays are showing their tits, and if you're what I think you are, how did you manage against them?"

"…Because they were ugly? Besides, they attacked me. Please tell me you're not going to attack me, whatever you are."

Raynare scoffed, before summoning her habitual battle outfit, the one Mittelt called her Battle Dominatrix outfit. It was, admittedly, little more than magically-conjured latex and leather that barely covered the…well, bare essentials, but it counted as clothing, on a technicality. "Nah, I actually have a small sense of gratitude," she admitted. And she was somewhat surprised she even had that much left. "And FYI, I'm a Fallen Angel. I mean, surely you know this by now, Mr Talkative Dragon?"

"Actually, no I don't. I've just been eating those monsters around here. I…only regained myself a few weeks back. And Fallen Angel? Are we in Hell?"

"Not quite. The Underworld, to be more precise, and no, they're not quite the same thing. Those monsters you ate were probably Stray Devils," Raynare said. "By the way, I'm dressed now. You can look."

It did, only to do a double-take. "HOW IS THAT DRESSED?! YOU LOOK LIKE AN EVIL STRIPPER!" it yelped.

Raynare was torn between laughing and getting pissed off. She plumped for the latter, albeit in a way that wouldn't get her killed, hopefully. "Oi, don't fucking shame me for this outfit! It's practical for moving quickly in, believe it or not!" she snapped, flipping it the bird.

"You have thigh-high boots with stiletto heels!" the Dragon protested. "And do those straps even help support your bust?"

"I fly, okay?! Fuck, I…never mind. Look, you saved me, and I'm grateful," she admitted, albeit reluctantly. She approached it, and gently laid a hand on its face. "Come with me back to the headquarters of the Grigori, please. We're mostly Fallen Angels, but Lord Azazel welcomes outcasts of all species into our ranks. If you don't have anywhere else to go, we can help."

It was, admittedly, somewhat manipulative of her. But the Dragon could be a major asset, and it could be her in to gaining the favour of Lord Azazel and Lord Shemhazai. She was doing this on an impulse, a whim, but it could help her.

And to tell the truth, if this Dragon saved her, then this could help it, in whatever way the Grigori could.

The Dragon was considering her words, before they heard a shout from outside. "RAYNARE! ARE YOU THERE?"

"I'm in here, Mittelt! Don't worry, I'm unharmed! And don't attack my rescuer, okay? Nyder was a traitor, this…guy? Girl? Saved me."

"…I'm a guy," the Dragon grumbled irritably.

Mittelt arrived, only for the petite pureborn Fallen to start when she saw the Dragon. "Whoa, what the fuck?! Raynare, please tell me the Dragon's friendly."

"I'm friendly as long as you are," the Dragon retorted. "Nyder wasn't. Hence why he's dead."

"So play nice," Raynare said. "Where's Dohnaseek and Kalawarner?"

"Still searching nearby," Mittelt said, the blonde Fallen sighing. "I'll signal them when we're ready to go. I'll bag the traitor's head for Lord Azazel to look at." And then, she looked to the Dragon, only to stop and stare. She approached the Dragon, and peered into his face. Her eyes widened. "…Oh. Ohhh…so that's what happened to you!" she hissed.

"Sorry, what?" Raynare asked, even as the Dragon shied away, oddly enough.

Mittelt waved her off, before looking the Dragon in the eyes. "We can help you, okay? We're not friends of those retards in the British Ministry of Magic or the Death Eaters, what's left of them. Can you change back?"

"…I've been trying ever since I regained myself," the Dragon admitted. "But I can't."

Mittelt nodded. "Well, let me try. I'm more powerful than the average wizard, even at my age. But Lord Azazel can help you. Okay, let's try this. It's a modified Homorphus charm. I'm not sure if it'll work on you, but..." Mittelt raised a hand, and activated a spell, a magic circle briefly flaring to life in front of her palm.

The Dragon convulsed, and then began to shrink, warping and distorting. Eventually, all that was left was a thin, lanky figure on their hands and knees, with a matted nest of black hair. Completely naked, though Mittelt quickly removed what was left of Nyder's coat, repaired it, and draped it around the figure's shoulders.

Said figure appeared to be a young man, in his late teens or early twenties, his emerald eyes still having a reptilian slitted pupil as he looked at them warily. A scar in the shape of a lightning bolt marred his forehead. And what was more, Raynare now recognised him.

The slayer of Voldemort. The former Golden Boy of Magical Britain. The Boy Who Lived. Raynare was standing in front of no less a personage than Harry motherfucking Potter…

CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:

And on that bombshell, good night!

Now, this is set a couple of years before High School DxD canon begins. That incident with the Nyder (who is an OC, albeit based on and named for a character from the Doctor Who story Genesis of the Daleks) was basically meant to act as an explanation for why Raynare became obsessed with obtaining a Sacred Gear for herself. I made it up, and while Raynare was badly injured in canon, her cell found her in time.

Incidentally, you may have noticed the Doom reference in the Juggernaut Drive speech, but there's another reference in there. Specifically to Terry Jones and Alan Ereira's companion book to the 90s BBC documentary series Crusades. When discussing the Siege of Antioch in 1098, they say, just before the Crusaders (who had recently captured the city, only to be besieged in a city now mostly bereft of food) supposedly found the Lance of Longinus, "twenty thousand half-crazed and starving survivors of the Crusade were pulling down heaven and wrenching a miracle from it."

No numbered annotations this time.