A minor note: take the little villain guide entries with a grain of a salt. I initially started them as a sort of explanation for how Harry's actions played into the Villainous Plan™ but now they've got a more thematic bent to them. Apply a grain of salt before taking, yeah?

As for age/time, the story starts sometime shortly after the fall of Voldemort, with things currently being Harry's 'eighth year' so to speak- hence Astoria being in school. She's sixth year, Ginny is seventh, Luna has dropped out but would otherwise be seventh, Harry's home free.

XXIX. Legitimacy

"Bah!" you may say. I don't need legitimacy where I'm going! My state will bend to me! Might makes right! And sure, to some extent your Feats and whatever Loyalty you've managed to accrue will hold up whatever you plan on making, there is time and place for hearkening back to the past.

Most obviously, your garden variety puppet government is an example of this- keep all the old mechanisms of state in place, just with a different head. You can also use similar titles to the state you're overthrowing, or call back to an even older (and perhaps territorially larger) regime to give a sense of history. So seize your country's Mandate of Heaven! Proclaim yourself Kayser-i Rûm! Drape yourself in the glories of antiquity, and do your best to live up to the hype.

If there was one thing that Macau was notable for, it was probably the casinos. Harry took the time to observe the interesting mix of Chinese and Portuguese architecture… but from what Harry understood, Macau was quite similar to Las Vegas in the States, or perhaps Monte Carlo in Monaco. You went there to gamble.

And Harry did, just a tiny bit. He understood that the casinos were basically rackets, but if he went in with a certain amount of money he could lose and no more, he figured there was no harm. And despite a few good runs, lose he did. Perhaps unsurprisingly, he was unfamiliar with most card games, and basically all the ones that were actually bet on (something told Harry Old Maid was not very popular), which didn't help.

Technically, Harry figured that this was his first visit to Portugal- that was the flag that flew over the island, even if it wasn't staying that way for long. It would soon be going the way of Hong Kong, becoming a special administrative region of China…

Harry took the chance to poke around Hong Kong as well. It was own of the richest and most urbanized areas in the world, after all, and Harry's inner architect could appreciate the sheer number of skyscrapers. Of course, that wasn't the only reason he was visiting- he wanted to learn about Chinese magic, and he figured that if Macau and Hong Kong were such major urban centers, at least a few wizards would be around. And he was correct.

In a shockingly modern turn, they took up residence in a skyscraper, even sharing the building with non magical folk. Harry imagined technology was probably on the fritz in that building, though…

Of course, there was a bit more space on those floors (bought out by a corporation that non-magical folk would have a hell of a time investigating) than the square footage of the floor plans would suggest, and other than a fairly wide open area for people to Apparate into and out of, the building was dense with people.

He walked through it in a daze, listening to a medley of languages: he could pick up English, of course, but there was also Chinese being spoken, along with other languages that sounded different, even if Harry couldn't name them.

Merchants hawked their goods, including products from all sorts of creatures that Harry hadn't so much as heard of, on top of reagents and materials for alchemy- and of course, there were no small number of books on the subject. Unfortunately, not many of them were in English, but he was intrigued enough the alchemy books- especially the concept of 'inner alchemy', which seemed to be some sort of self strengthening thing- to buy some. Even if he didn't get any use out of them personally, they might be useful for the small alchemy set up they already had on Doggerland- that was, they'd be useful for other people, and that was reason enough.

But of course, there was more to China than just the coastal regions, and while it might have been possible, with some real finagling, to get the ship into a state where it could sail up the Pearl River, Harry wanted to try hoofing it, so to speak. Or using a broom. Well, Harry was considering using a broom before he saw that some of the salesmen happened to have flying carpets- an object traditionally banned in Wizarding England, but one that Harry was more than happy to make them legal in Doggerland. The carpet was one of many items that came from regions other than China- he even saw a few broomsticks, not that he really needed more at the moment.

Of course, just because Harry acquired a flying carpet didn't mean he was going to use it all the time- was prowling the land in puma form slow and fairly likely to spook the people if he got seen? Yes. Yes for both. Still, Harry felt the need to indulge his Nagual side- it clearly affected him more deeply than McGonagall's own transformation, unless McGonagall had a habit of killing songbirds that no one ever found out about. At the very least he tried not to kill livestock- no use in ruining anyone's livelihood just because he was feeling a bit peckish.

Harry was struck by the fact that he would almost certainly need to be making several return trips in the future- he hadn't even stepped foot in Northern China yet! The Forbidden City, the 'stately pleasure dome' at Xanadu, the Great Wall… there was simply far too much to see! Some part of him felt a bit jealous for the vampires, having all that time- and he felt a bit bad for them too. They could have seen so much, traveled so widely, if only they weren't locked away. Maybe he could visit Romania or thereabouts eventually, bringing them along- it was a touch cliche, Harry would admit, but it was part of a long list of European sites that Harry wanted to visit as well….

Harry did the typical touristy thing of gawking at all the temples and such- from those which were in the centers of sprawling cities, to ones that stood perilously near the tops of great, lush peaks. It was while investigating one particularly isolated temple tucked in a valley that Harry spotted it, brilliant against the dark of the night.

His first thought was phoenix, in large part because the bird was on fire. Well, he supposed that any bird could, theoretically speaking, be set on fire, it was just that a bird being able to survive such a thing was much rarer. It also seemed to have the… well, Harry supposed that it just had the same sort of quiet dignity Harry had come to expect from Fawkes, but it seemed different.

The bird looked at him, and Harry had the distinct impression he was being looked down at. Yes, technically, due to the fact that the bird was perching on the top of a tree, burning the bark and leaves, the bird had to be looking down at him if it wanted to see him… but the bird gave off an aura of unbearable smugness. It turned up its beak at him, launched itself from the top of the tree, and began to circle upwards.

It flew up, and up and up, until Harry couldn't make out the delicate red feathers anymore, until it looked like little more than a dancing, twinkling light. Soon enough, it vanished into the stars.

Well if it disliked Harry that much…

Still, it dropped a pretty neat looking feather. The feather was on fire and seemed like it would stay that way, but it was a nice feather.

When Harry eventually followed the Pearl River back to the sea, he decided to stop by Taiwan, since he was in the area- perhaps he should have done that when he was first passing by, but it wasn't like Harry had to really budget for fuel or anything.

There was the typical touristy stuff Harry got up to: looking at museums and artifacts of the many, many Imperial Chinese regimes, including depictions of some of the beasts and creatures he had seen on his trip. Or at least, he thought so. He had run into a Vermillion Dragon, then a Vermillion Bird… or at least that seemed to be the name of the odd bird he had seen- it was one of a number of animals representing Chinese constellations. None of the souvenirs Harry looked at really seemed quite as impressive as the feather (which was an absolute pain to carry around, considering that it never stopped burning).

And of course, there was the matter of the magical community as well. Magical Taiwan was an odd beast, in a way similar to the non magical one- there were a number of magical communities on the island, and they all had very different ideas about who should be in charge of the place. There were Formosans- that was to say indigenous Taiwanese, before the Chinese showed up- who had their own little groups, there were people who wanted them to fall in line with the mainland magical government, and then there was the one Harry got to actually interact with: the Koxinga.

Apparently, during the… great Qing kerfuffle (or should it be the great Great Qing kerfuffle?) a so-called loyalist to the old regime fled to Taiwan. This was the first Koxinga, and according to the history books his dynasty held onto Taiwan until the Qing swept them up. Apparently, a magical member of the dynasty toughed it out while his muggle relative surrendered, and the magicians had basically hid inside a mountain until they could hopefully return in full fury and restore the true sons of Heaven to the Dragon Throne. Or at least that was the plan until the whole Statute of Secrecy thing happened.

From what Harry understood, there were definitely attempts at restoration in spite of the Statute, the ICW would always come in and give them a quick ass-kicking to remind them that they weren't the only wizards on the planet. So now they were left with… softer methods of diplomacy, like wining and dining a foreign head of state (Harry). At least, that was the less generous way of looking at it. Maybe the current head of house Koxinga just liked guests.

Harry drank just enough of the liquor he was given- a clear, distilled drink called baiju- to be polite and talked with the man with the help of a translator.

"So you're a treasure hunter, then?"

"Part time, I guess- I don't do it to pay the bills, more… a historical interest. I've returned some of the stuff I've found, actually."

"Well, if you ever find the Seal of the Realm, please inform me- I'd pay for it."

"The seal of the realm?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"A seal made of jade, carved some twenty two hundred years ago…" Harry's eyes widened. Two thousand and two hundred years… that was old. Obscenely old.

"Well, if it's been lost for that long, I don't think anyone could find it."

"Oh, it's only been lost a mere one thousand years or so- much more practical, yes?" Harry got the impression the Koxinga dynast was screwing with him.

"And is there anything… magical about it?"

The man shrugged. "Possibly. Or maybe it's just a very nice piece of jade, one that represents the mandate of Heaven. People died for it. Killed for it."

"And now it's gone." Harry remarked, thinking about his own collection of goods at home. Not all of them could compare- King Arthur and his treasures fell short of the seal by some eight hundred years- but Harry was pretty sure the Doggerland relics would blow the seal out of the water by several thousand years.

Maybe it would be good to double check some of those items… if the magic stuck around, it must have been crazily strong. Or maybe it got better with age, like wine.

The most interesting of the Doggerland objects was probably a horn- Harry had thought it was kind of neat before… but now, it seemed different. Maybe it was his knowledge of weather magic, or the encounter with the Rainbow Serpent, but it seemed painfully obvious that the horn hummed with magic. Powerful, powerful weather magic.

That night, Harry had a dream. He dreamt of a tribal leader, clad in furs, and a horn passed from father to son for generations. An heirloom, a symbol of a chieftain's authority, a claim to the lands. Tribal conflicts, battles over Doggerland.

He dreamt of blowing the horn. Blowing and blowing until blood poured from his lips. Until the world trembled around him and great waves the size of skyscrapers towered above him, until his lungs were filled with salt and no one would ever claim Doggerland as their own again...

Harry snapped awake and realized he had bit his cheek hard enough to draw blood while sleeping. He decided that blowing the horn was probably a bad idea. Some part of him wondered if it wasn't the only ancient relic sitting on a shelf somewhere with enough power to reshape a continent. Well, he supposed that the heirloom seal of China managed to do the job of shaping and changing a continent, no magic required. Maybe.

Still, the dream had disturbed him. After seeing a landmass sunk beneath the waves, Harry felt the urge to do just the opposite- raise some land out of the sea.

Harry hoped that Doggerland was a good place to live- not an irrational concern for the prince of said state. He figured that it was probably then a meager life spent eking out a living on the edge of society, but that was no reason to settle for subpar standards on his island.

So when he had the time, he tried to listen to everyone's opinions, and the werewolves in particular. One idea they had that intrigued him was setting up more islands, in a similar sort of fashion to the magic that let them go to the island off Hokkaido- this was mostly a suggestion from the werewolves who were looking to start families.

And yeah, Harry could kind of agree with that sentiment a little, or at least understand why they'd want their own little private slice of land outside of the tower. They made it clear that they still wanted to be under Harry's protection… just that somewhere a bit more private, with a bit more open space, might be nice.

Harry had considered the idea himself a little, maybe setting a few floors of his tower aside for himself, Andromeda, Teddy, and a few choice others… he was worried it would look a touch elitist though, at least if he stayed there all the time. For some stupid reason, Harry remembered Margaret mentioning that the name for the part of the house for women and children was sometimes called the harem (at least in certain Islamic parts of the world), and he shook his head.

Spreading the islands out a bit wouldn't hurt, so Harry got to work in a particularly isolated and out of the way spot in the Indian ocean (after resolving to eventually double back and take another look at the area around Singapore). Making a chain of smaller islands was definitely different than making a single larger one, but over fairly deep ocean it was still a little tiring. He lifted up a couple, set up a way home, and took a nap. It wasn't like he couldn't make more islands.

And in the ICW headquarters, a pen took notes. After the Isle of Doggerland and the Isle on Okhotsk (the pen's chosen name for Harry's island on… well, you can guess what sea. The pen picked because no name was suggested by Harry) it began to scratch down the locations of the Princely Archipelago of the Indian Ocean. You could blame the ICW for many things, but they needed to be very good at knowing what belonged to who.

XXX. A Clean Sweep

Let's say that you've followed the guide and succeeded in making the totalitarian state of your dreams. It's still not safe yet, especially if it's built on the foundation of a previous institution. There could be dissidents in your midst- less than perfect subjects working for the downfall of your regime, whether to replace it with the old, or to give you a taste of your own coup medicine while you're weak.

Sometimes, you need to clear out the rot...

It was around the time of year when Mandrakes were harvested- meaning a very good time for Cyrus Greengrass and his business. They had something of a bumper crop this year, more than enough to meet demand now that they weren't fighting a war.

Still, shipments needed to be properly arranged, everything put into its proper place… His usual clients made their usual orders, but there was something new. A request from Doggerland for a few whole Mandrakes, from root to leaf.

Maybe Potter was harboring some ambitions to start his own garden operation to farm them, which was understandable if he wanted to stock his little hospital. It could even turn out profitable for Cyrus if Harry got comfortable with the idea of selling all his produce through him….

However, there was something else you could do with whole Mandrakes, particularly with the leaves. They were part of the process of becoming animagus- and the Ministry tended to keep a careful eye on how exactly they were being used, for obvious reasons.

Sneaking a few to Potter would almost certainly be illegal, and even if it wasn't, the Ministry would pitch enough of a fuss for it to be a tremendous pain… but it was repayment for a debt owed. It would probably be better if they discussed the details of this deal in code, though…

Not everyone thought Harry was evil, or at the very least they didn't think he was actually worse than the Ministry. After seeing the Ministry bend to Voldemort and the Prophet become his mouthpiece, the average young person might have thought they were bumbling and incompetent at best. At worst, they actively abetted Voldemort's rise to power.

So when told that Harry Potter had a falling out with the Ministry, many of the students that knew him in school, especially the muggleborns and half-bloods, were inclined to think Potter was right. (Shockingly, the Wizengamot was not a perfect representation of Wizarding Britain.)

Some of them might have even followed him to his island if they were given the chance. Instead, they were left with a significantly bigger island- one with significantly bigger problems that were ingrained in deeply. But maybe this was their calling. Potter was done, and he deserved rest (Hell, if any deserved an island retreat and hot vampire women, it was Harry Potter) but the work was never done.

If anyone also happened to be very tired of Porter always being the center of attention… well, this a chance to get good done, all by themselves! To make a Magical Britain people wanted to come to, not one their hero fled from.

It would start small, of course, secretaries and aids in the ministry being a bit more radical than they really let on. But there were a lot of them, and they had the sort of ambition borne of having everything to gain through change.

Unfortunately, Harry Potter wasn't popular with everyone. Of course, it wasn't the best idea to just go out and say that in public, unless you wanted to look like a Voldemort crony who was a little late to the party, but in secret there were considerable elements which wanted Potter knocked down a peg, if not killed. The problem being getting to him.

Attempts to sail towards him had proven completely unsuccessful, although they narrowly managed to avoid any losses. The idea of only surviving thanks to Potter's mercy was more than a little grating- and only compelled them to find some other way to bring Potter down.

Their first plan that didn't fall apart immediately involved the werewolves- while the vast majority were genuinely looking for a new start in Doggerland, there were a few that could be swayed… Doggerland was an awfully nice place after all, and it would be nice if it were under new management…

The usual methods didn't really work, though. Before moving in, the vampires made sure that any new guests take a number of oaths- on pain of death or loss of magic for most of them- to make sure they wouldn't just walk straight and try to kill the 'good master' or anyone else. That threw a wrench into initial plans of poisoning or the like, on top of Harry's fondness of using snakes as poison sniffers- not to mention actual spells intended to detect poisons.

A 'dueling accident' really wouldn't work just because Potter was an obscenely good duelist, and while Potter spent quite a lot of time outside of the safety of his wards, his exact location was a bit more of a problem. Sure, they knew that he had taken trips to Japan and the Americas, but he was hopping around so quickly they couldn't exactly try and hunt him down...

One of these men, while not particularly bright, was ever so slightly more literate about muggle weapons technology than the rest, and he had an idea. This was not to say he fully grasped the muggle world, but he knew one thing: the muggles could make some very big booms. A quick Imperius on a few people should do the trick, since they knew roughly where the island was...

Despite what one might initially assume, the muggle governments of the world weren't completely defenseless when it came to magicians. They had to know what exactly was going on inside their borders- even if the wizarding government (or governments) of their territory were independent of the muggle government, they had to communicate just a bit. So of course, muggle governments took obvious steps regarding the massive group of uncontrollable, unbelievably powerful people in their midst.

Most countries had some quiet office tucked away where informed muggles sketched up plans for whatever wacky bullshit the magicians got up to, and they weren't afraid to hire magicians who were spurned by the magical governments. So a decently stable muggle government would actually have a lot more protection against some idiot with a wand and a grudge than one might first assume. In European countries, there was also the chance of inheriting old government buildings- ones typically packed to the gills with wards.

Of course, there was also the simple biological fact that a bullet would kill a wizard as surely as it would a muggle, and government officials did tend to have, you know, guards.

Perhaps, a suitably enterprising wizard could feasibly cause a lot of damage in a muggle government, with appropriate planning and careful use of the Imperius spell or others like it. Our man… well, he had the latter, at least. He also had friends.

They didn't know the exact structure of the British military (and therefore who held the big bombs) but how hard could infiltration reasonably be? They were only muggles, after all.

Sometime later, a certain squib desk jockey was having a busy night. Not the busiest night he had ever had- he still had flashbacks to that mess eighteen years ago, not to mention the more recent outburst of magical celebrations last May- but there was a bit more activity than usual.

"... and he did it all with a stick! A plain wooden stick!"

"Let me guess- about a foot long, give or take, probably carved, kind of like a wand?"

"Yeah, exactly like a wand." The voice on the other end of the line was worried. "Is this some sort of attack? Are there more of them?"

Before he could formulate some appropriately calming reassurance, another phone rang. "Jesus Christ, another one? Could you hold for a sec?"

Admittedly, he wasn't treating these officers with the decorum they felt they deserved- he could hear the man squawking as he picked up the next phone- but it wasn't like they'd remember. That's why he needed to take good notes.

The Oblivators had really stepped up their game recently- it was a lot harder to sneakily wipe someone's memories without getting noticed or blabbing, but they definitely did their best.

He imagined the blokes at Buckingham and Marlborough Lines would have quite a few questions in the morning when they realized that they fired off ammunition at something they couldn't quite remember. Unfortunately, that was above this particular office worker's pay grade. There had been a few incidents like this the last year, but apparently some folks were pretty forgetful.

Harry had never considered himself an author, but now he was considering it. Not full time, necessarily, but his book on Parseltongue was doing good- good enough to give him some confidence in his own writing abilities.

The area Harry had the most confidence in writing about was pretty obvious: Defense Against the Dark Arts. He planned on putting some of the more useful (and less horrifyingly dangerous) spells he had found in the book, along with how they could best be used for survival. It wasn't going to be some sort of rigid dueling manual- more of a "how to get out of there alive" manual.

Thinking about it, he had a lot of stuff he could write about- while he certainly didn't want to dig up certain memories and share them with the public, he had definitely seen enough to fill a few memoirs, not to mention the information he could get if he asked the vampires or Yuki Onna. While it wasn't like he really needed the money, he imagined it would be very good for Luna and her father, who were receiving part of the profits- for all the printing, obviously.

In addition, he wanted to do some research into Animagus forms, considering that he hoped to become one. He had already stuck the mandrake leaf to the roof of his mouth (thanks to Cyrus Greengrass) and he knew that he could literally just whip himself up a thunderstorm… so he imagined the process would be pretty quick. And he wouldn't even be doing it illegally, since he was in his own country!

If he wanted to write a book about the process, he did need to take notes though. Harry was curious- he was pretty sure that there was some correlation between someone's Patronus and their Animagus form, but he also knew that sufficient emotional shock could cause a change in Patronus. However, none of Harry's research turned up an Animagus form changing. That seemed to hint that an Animagus form might be "locked in", so to speak.

In theory, Harry's form would be a stag, like his dad's (his Patronus still was a buck), and while Harry didn't have anything against stags... he kind of had the land creature niche covered. Was it possible to influence the transformation? Make a particular form more likely?

Education at Hogwarts had resumed… somewhat normally. The memories of the battle were still fresh, but life carried on. McGonagall was already making plans for the baby boom she knew would follow the actual defeat of Voldemort- they might have to actually hire multiple teachers for the same subject.

At the very least, the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position had seemingly been broken, so she wouldn't have to worry about replacing them every single year… Still, she did want to make the class interesting, keep people invested and remind them that it was still important even if Voldemort was dead. Was there a better way to do that than a bit of a demonstration?

So she wrote out a letter to Harry, inviting him- if he had the time, of course- to do something of exhibition match with Flitwick. Other than just being a good show, it would give the students something to get excited for as the end of the school year crept close, along with giving McGonagall a chance to talk with Harry.

She wasn't going to harangue him or anything- he was a grown man and could make his own decisions, even if they were, in her opinion, motivated by an undue interest in the fairer sex- but she very much didn't want him trying something stupid when it came to becoming an Animagus. If he insisted on going down that path, the least she could do is give him some advice… and maybe subtly inquire into how he planned on educating any children he might bring up on Doggerland.

It wouldn't be too bad to have another generation of Potters running around, but she would freely admit that Harry would have a number of good reasons to homeschool his children, if he pleased.

As always, thank you all for reading. Also, I'm still surprised how well the tsundere horse bit landed. At least on FFN, I get comments about it fairly often.

I promise y'all, I have some idea of what I'm doing here. Plans, baby. I do occasionally have them. (Including a possible trip to China from the Himalayas? Stay tuned. I think I'm gonna have fun with India)

As for our rival Jean Paul (I will remind you of the note above about taking the villain guide with a grain of salt when it comes to things here) he will probably return next time, as Harry makes his way towards Singapore, Indochina, and thereabouts.

And yes the animagus thing is purposefully open ended. Someone suggested Harry having forms allowing him to traverse sea, air, and land, and I'm considering something like that. My original idea was sea snake, but if any of y'all can justify your own suggestion well (and it isn't completely obscene/ridiculous/OP) I'll consider it.