With Harry…

Hadarac Desert…

Forty-Five Before the Beginning of the Rider War… [1]

"Ow! Hey! Don't bite me! I know that sucked but don't bite me, you little shit," I swore as the little beastie nipped at my fingers angrily. He looked up at me and snarled a plume of smoke directly into my face. I rolled my eyes as the little dragon clambering back up on my shoulders and nipped at my ear gently. I scratched his chin before I pulled out one of the liberated maps and looked up at the mountains in front of me. "Well… When in doubt, make like a turtle," I muttered as I turned on my heel again, headed for my next waypoint.

The little dragon screeched again but I just reached into my Mokeskin pouch and pulled out my kit of emergency rations. Unfortunately, I don't have chicken blood and brandy since that's apparently the standard baby dragon food… What I did have was another one of Hermione's brilliant inventions, a drink that could keep anyone sustained for days to weeks at a time as long as they had a mouthful - the problem was that it tasted like dragon dung. I shuddered as the thick potion rolled down my stomach and corked the canteen again, this time going for the beef jerky and giving a thick piece to the dragon who sniffed it appraisingly before swallowing it with gusto.

"Ruddy lizard," I snarked at the cooing dragon. I looked up at the choice for my second point and swallowed… "buddy… That's a big mountain…" And it was. It was easily thrice as tall as Ben Nevis back home but made sheerly out of what looked to be sandstone. I closed my eyes and knelt down, ignoring the heat easily due to temperature control runes in my coat, on the blistering hot sand. I pushed my magic into the sand and found the bedrock about nine meters down.

I couldn't help but whistle at the sheer depth but punched the ground and grunted "Perforimusa Octopassum!" and watched as a hole wide enough for a man to fit in comfortably drilled itself twelve meters down. I grunted in approval as the hole widened slightly more, I cast incendio and watched as the falling sand melted into rough glass but also made the sides of the hole much more solid - eliminating the danger of them falling onto me as I worked.

I looked at the ruby dragon who shook his head like a dog shedding water as he looked at the hole in trepidation. I sighed and apparated one more time down into the hole. The crimson dragon howled in disapproval but that's all he did. I sighed in slight relief as I knelt on the much cooler ground and reached in my mokeskin pouch for one of the things I personally created - the rabbit hole. Hermione always rolled her eyes at the name but I thought it was oddly fitting. I pulled four dice out of my mokeskin pouch but instead of having the standard numbers on the sides, these had runes carved into them - meticulously. On the horcrux hunt (after Ron took his little Hiatus that is), I had Hermione teach me as much about Runes as she could and ever since then it's been a bit of a hobby (read: obsession… I was more or less a defense and rune master at this point). These work on the same basic principle as a wizard's tent except they could be deployed anywhere underground and at any time. All I had to do was drop the dice for the bunker to deploy, magic would take care of the rest - and I did. The four dice immediately spun to orient themselves correctly and zipped to the four cardinal points of the newly crafted rabbit hole and started spinning rapidly. Almost immediately, there was a low hum and a blood-red glow from the dice as the area of the cave was warped and transformed into a bunker capable of withstanding Fiendfyre - for at least a few seconds, that is - and being warded with it's own version of a Fidelius Charm. I had Ron's and he had my secret for the bunker, we were the only two Dragons with the bunkers since the things were horribly difficult to make and took me three months to make each one after five years of R&D with Hermione's help.

I grinned as the bunker took shape around me, whirling and expanding the space into what amounted to a fully stocked muggle nuclear bunker fitted for at least two thousand people to be comfortable inside should it be necessary to take that step. Anyone I choose can enter the bunker by portkey and never need to be told the secret of it - but, for now, it works for a beautiful hideout while I sift through the crap I just accumulated from someone (who was obviously Galbatorix if the wards I laid were correct, unfortunately I couldn't lay down power detection wards but they were keyed to two things: the owner of the little fort and magical density. While similar to power detection wards, magical density measured the innate power a magician could use - power detection relied on how much they were using in a fight and took measurements based off of the spells they used). I walked over to the lift and pressed the down button as the little dragon looked at me curiously.

"To the command post, chap," I smirked and scratched the little guy's chin again but finally saw the gauntlet in the way, "oh… Yeah, I suppose I don't need the armor anymore do I?" I said in an utterly bored tone of voice. I hissed "Deactivate" and smacked my fist to my breastplate in a Roman salute making the armor collapse back into the coat. The Armor could be activated with a thought but Hermione made us jump through hoops to get it off, guess it was necessary though, don't want any idiot to be able to shout 'deactivate!' and suddenly I'm back in plain work clothes - that would be bad for security but they would also have to speak parseltongue to activate or deactivate my particular armor. Anyways, there was no actual command post… But there was a level dedicated strictly to my Dragons and another level below that for me alone. The level above that, though, was a storage warehouse, that's where I was headed.

With a small ding from the lift, I stepped out into the broad, wide open facility of the warehouse like room designed to sort through anything that goes on the floor and arrange them for me to go through them later. It's usually for the House Elves to bring in food, drinks, and other necessities like bedclothes but since there aren't any house elves here it'll work for sorting the mess I stole... I just sighed and took off my pack, casting "Eicious," on the bag as soon as it touched the floor. Usually, the spell will work instantly… Today? There was a rumble in the pack like distant thunder before the bag erupted with a veritable wall of gold, wood, steel, books, and everything else I stole.

The two of us sat there and watched as the things spilled out of the bag but when the gems I stole flooded out of the bag there was an awful screeching that tore at my mental defenses and nearly rent them asunder in one, terrible hammer blow. In an instant, I dragged the gems back into the bag and looked at the little dragon with his head under his fore paws - he looked just as baffled as I felt.

"What the bloody hell was that?!"

XXX

It took seven bloody hours to go through the presorted shit that I liberated from Galbatorix, there was just so much! But it was worth it. Turns out, old Galbatorix had just around three tonnes of gold - it was a drop in the bucket compared to what the queen has (even compared to the Black Vault, I know Sirius had at least twenty tonnes at his command… The Goblins took almost half of it to repair the bank and most of the other half to make the ten suits of armor I asked them to make [2]) but it's still a quite impressive amount of gold.

The real treasure, though, was the armory I had collected. It impressed me so much that I decided it was coming with me and loaded it back into the rucksack. It turns out that each and every single one of the swords was warded and spell forged so well that it took me thirty minutes of head scratching to figure out that I had no clue how the mage who did it managed the feat - the results had come back inconclusive. Wizards back home would just cast spells on the steel itself and pray for the best while Goblins were masters of the craft. They went so far as to make their own steel by using dragon bones and iron or silver from their mines and, if possible, forged the steel in a volcano or in the earth's mantle itself - or at least that's what they told me, Death kind of gave me the rest of that crash course. Dragons were used to temper this new alloy while the Goblins enchanted the metal while it was still glowing hot, something about fusing the magic into the metal - never really understood that if I'm being honest.

Anyway, the swords were ridiculously well crafted. The blade I claimed - while a little long - was a masterfully crafted sword and light to boot! It was currently strapped to my hip as I walked through the warehouse area of the bunker and over to the large ebony table, scooping the scarlet dragon on the stuffed leather chair. He growled in protest but I hushed him, there were still a few things to finish while we were here - first things first? Water supply. The little dragon - that I needed to name - perched on my shoulder and looked around the bunker curiously. We made it to the lift again and headed down to the maintenance room in the level directly below where I was standing.

We walked in and I saw that the pumps weren't connected to anything. I couldn't help but groan lightly at the sight and knew I was going to be in for another long few hours.

"Bud," I said to the already bored looking dragon on my shoulder, "I think it's time for you to get in a kip, yeah? I've got to get to work on this." He didn't look impressed until I conjured a fluffy pillow in the corner of the room and tossed more jerky toward it. He squealed and jumped off my shoulder, awkwardly bumping across the floor toward the pillow - it was almost cute. I grinned as the little dragon curled up into the pillow and snapped up all the meat laying there. He nearly immediately passed out with incredibly loud snores for a dragon the size of a mini schnauzer but I had to blink to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me, he looked like he gained another few inches of length just from eating the jerky. My grin only broadened as I turned back to the pumps and filtration systems, another Hermy-ject if I ever saw one. This bunker was legitimately burrowed about three hundred feet down into the Earth but was heavily expanded on all ten levels.

The first was the portkey dropzone along with the cafeteria and kitchens… After the party being received was thoroughly vetted by either myself or the Dragon Corps themselves. The portkeys were as secure as I could make them but they were still Portkeys, security risks happen. Level two held the commons, a muggle style gym with an Olympic pool, a Library (that I had utterly nothing to do with, Hermione heard about the idea and jumped on it like an American Nundu on a niffler), and school rooms for those who may be Hogwarts age… Granted, I am not in any way qualified to teach classes besides maybe Runes or Defense.

Third level held the barracks, twenty bunks to a room with a hundred rooms in total to make sure everyone was as comfortable as they could possibly be. Each barracks had a head large enough to handle each and everyone of the people assigned to the barracks, meaning each head had twenty toilets but only ten showers in each. Not everyone was going to want to shower at the same time anyway. Fourth level was for laundry and held the House elves quarters. I asked Winky for advice in making that particular beast but all she said was that House Elves were fine with an area the size of a cupboard and would be thrilled to have an actual bed. So, while humans get long twin beds, house elves get half-sized twin mattresses. It may not seem like much but to them it means the world. I couldn't help but sigh as I thought of how much easier life would be if I had about twenty of the wonderful little things… Anyway… Fifth level was Agriculture and the Greenhouses that I still am clueless as to what's inside them. My herbology skills were about on par with my potions abilities, also known as non-existent. Speaking of potions, level six was almost completely devoted to them with the huge research lab and (admittedly empty) menagerie along with a fully fledged sickbay Madam Pomfrey would have murdered to get her fingers on - God bless that woman…

Anyway, level seven was the warehouse level, eight - where I currently am - is maintenance, and the last three were accessible only to me and my team. Level nine was the Dragon's den. It was a relatively small area, at least in comparison to the acres upon acres of space in the above barracks, but it was a lounge and hideaway for (at most) ten people. It was also incredibly nice for what it was. The common area had pool tables, recliners, combat books, fiction, light reading, and a fully stocked bar and kitchen… May go hit that after I'm done with these damned pipes, actually. But anyway. There were also individual bedrooms for each of the ten members of the Dragon corps, but the tenth was just a decoy. The tenth - my room - had a small, spartan bedroom but if you moved the wardrobe then it would lead directly down to my office and personal chambers. Which, ironically, brings me to level ten. The level held my full office with an automatic filing system based on muggle computers and allowed me to access all of my paperwork from my black walnut desk without having to get up and down constantly.

Of course, I haven't been able to use it in fourteen years… Actually, I haven't used the thing since before Lily Luna was born. Ginny was overjoyed about that since office work meant that I would come home every night at a relatively predictable time since good ol' Shack would send me home in the middle of a project if he had to but never while I was on a mission. Thank heavens he did, neither of us wanted to face Ginny's wrath - especially after she was nominated for Chief Witch of the Wizengamot when Marchbanks finally croaked (bloody hag she was, but thank Merlin she wasn't an immortal bloody hag), that just made her even scarier. I never thought Gin would have been a politician but once she decided to move on from sports and into politics as a proxy for the unoccupied Potter seat she became a powerhouse to be reckoned with in conjunction with Hermione.

I shivered at the thought of potentially having to face them if they made it here or if I made it back there and instinctively thought I may have to lock myself away in level eleven should that have ever come to pass. Level eleven was the prison ward - nothing major, just a ward of magic suppressing cells and an interrogation room if we needed to keep a questioning session… Shall we say, off record. According to Hermione, the magic proof cells would make a Nundu as weak as a kitten but we couldn't have too many cells installed without interfering with the magic of the bunker itself, so we went for quality over quantity. There are a few hundred standard cells on this level but those aren't good for much besides letting a drunk sleep off a good night.

I shook my head again as I waved my wand over the pump, grinning as it came to life with a roaring hiss. I couldn't help but grin even wider as I realized exactly what that meant - the pipes had finally found water somewhere in the nearby earth. The strange thing about the plumbing here though? Water can't really escape the bunker but the filtration systems are incredible. But it has its flaws. Most toilets in fact have the runes carved onto the porcelain itself and going into the pipes but sometimes some shit and piss gets through the cracks and has to be vanished in filtration. We try to reuse as much water as possible but, surprisingly, most of it gets redirected up to the surface due to the filtration process. Thankfully, the bunker is settled into the earth, into the bedrock, and then anchored down as much as I could manage so the thing wasn't going anywhere. It was also practically immune to corrosion and erosion, this bunker would sit right here for millennia if it had to and - as long as someone could find a portkey - it would always be accessible. The only problem was that it may be under a lake here in a few centuries… Note to self? Fill in the hole in the sand…

But that was tomorrow's problem. I wiped my forehead free of sweat and walked back over to the scarlet, snoozing dragon, picking him up and pulling him around my shoulders - shaking my head at the fact it even felt like he gained weight. He gave a small chirp of satisfaction as he went straight back to snoozing as hard as he could. I rolled my eyes at the little guy as I laid my hand on the wall and the stairwell to the Dragon's den appeared from the stone work. There weren't many stairs but the real trick was in making the staircase itself appear. There were a grand total of nine people besides me who could access the hidden door and they were all back on Earth.

Ronald Weasley, Colin Creevy, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Tracey Davis, Seamus Finnegan, Neville Longbottom, Padma Patil, Dean Thomas, and myself made up the first generation of the corps but I had no idea who they chose as my replacement. I simply sighed and rubbed my forehead as I stepped into my spartan bedchamber and headed down to my office as I pulled a map from one of my pockets. I sat in my favorite swivel chair, unrolling the map on the beautiful desk. I traced my finger over the map, looking specifically in the heavily wooded area called Du Weldenvarden. I frowned deeper as I found myself looking at a place labelled Ellesmera.

"A city, perhaps?" I asked the scarlet dragon on my shoulders. I looked up at him and he snorted in my face. I shook my head at his antics, "you know, you need a name." The dragon looked at me in interest as I went on, "I think I'll call you Astraeus. This whole dragon or you thing is getting old, innit?" I asked with a smirk. The dragon looked at me before he chirped lowly and pressed his head to mine, purring. I chuckled and scratched his chin gently. "Alright then, Astraeus it is. But what do you think of Ellesmera? Maybe this Kirtan place? It looks a bit closer to the desert after all… Not that it tells me all that much," I muttered but sucked in a breath, taking a silver band and attached it to my right wrist. It was a portkey that would bring me directly back here if things got too hairy and I was too unconcious to know about it. I took another, smaller, portkey out of the desk and stuck it to the dragon's back. It was all but invisible there and tied to my portkey so he would disappear with me, no matter where I was. And with that, I thought about the place I wanted to be and turned on my heel.

I immediately knew something was wrong the instant the rubber band feeling lasted about a second too long. There's a reason that long range apparition is highly discouraged among the populace, after all the furthest most people would consider going in one jump is Inverness to Devon [3]. Anything beyond that is risking serious risk of magical exhaustion or even death if too much was used. As soon as I had made it through the tunnel I fell to my knees gasping even as that strange whiplash in magic hit me again, filling up my depleted (and recently enlarged) reserves faster than I had ever felt them refill before. It was uncomfortable bordering on painful but I managed to get to my feet anyway. Astraeus didn't even roar in displeasure this time, just whining pitifully. I scratched his chin trying to comfort him while pushing some of my magic through my hand and into him. Eventually, the little dragon stopped whining and looked at me like I had kicked him.

"Sorry about that, bud," I said weakly, "I didn't know it was that far… It won't happen again. But it looks like I'm going to have to set up a portkey network around this country." Astraeus didn't look too impressed but huffed and closed his eyes. All I could do was shake my head as I looked up at the enormous wall of trees that looked like it rose from the sand itself. "Well… Let's get on with it…" I muttered as I stepped into the trees with my wand raised.

XXX

Three days. I had been trekking through this goddamned forest in circles for three damn days, or at least would have thought I was going around in circles utterly lost if I hadn't been keeping track of which direction this Kirtan place was with the Point Me spell - dead useful, that. In that time, Astraeus had grown up thanks to the over abundance of prey here for him to hunt. I had to do the hunting for him the first day but he picked up on it rather quickly. Little guy seemed to gain ten pounds a day - it was utterly incredible considering I had seen how slowly Norberta had grown in comparison all those years ago. Unfortunately, she had to be harvested a few years after Hagrid passed… She had run afoul a mother dragon that was much larger than she and, uh… well, turns out that particular Longhorn was much more vicious than Norberta was too. They were both harvested on the same day with Tracey, Hannah, Susan, and Padma all getting a cut of Norberta's hide for their coats while Dean and Seamus both got cuts from the Longhorn. Ron wanted to stand out and his wife made sure he did by getting enough Fireball hide to make a single coat just for him while Colin and Neville were perfectly happy with Welsh Green. Well, Hermione had a nice surprise for two of them. She had managed to get enough Horntail hide to make two coats, they were supposed to be for me and Ron but neither of us needed them since I killed and claimed the basilisk while Ron had his fireball coat. Leading to the final two Gryffindors being armored in what was quite possibly the finest quality dragonhide on Earth.

Unsurprisingly, mine was the best out of them all. Basilisk hide is about three times thicker than dragonhide which makes the coat (shockingly) about three times heavier than the other coats but it could potentially shrug unforgivables (in theory, I have yet to test that little bit of information and never wanted it tested) while dragonhide could redirect blasting curses and was nearly impervious to fire and blades. Though, I suppose if someone had something like, oh, I don't know, a cursed goblin dagger that had been drowned in nightmare fuel called nundu toxin laced basilisk venom after getting dragged through hell itself in it's forging process then maybe the hide could be pierced… I don't know though, I'm just spitballing here. I grimaced slightly as I felt my hand drift to where I was stabbed but didn't feel as much as a scratch in the material. Usually, basilisk hide was impervious to blades, I can't tell you the amount of times some idiot tried to stab me in the back only for the blade to be stopped dead in its tracks. Hell, even Goblin steel could be stopped by Basilisk hide! I tried it in the chamber and was only able to punch through the roof of her mouth. I snorted as a thought hit me, maybe the coat protected me from the venom - canceling magicks and things like that, but maybe it let the dagger get through because of the venom as well… My thoughts were interrupted as I saw a flash of motion in the treetops and watched as the ruby dragon darted from branch to branch, flying… well, hopping and gliding, as much as he could on his underdeveloped wings even if he was about forty to forty-five pounds now and much larger than any newborn dragon had any right to be. That still bugged the hell out of me.

I wasn't sure what interrupted me from my musings but, all of a sudden, I had my hand on my sword and the elder wand in my left hand as I scanned the trees in front of me. A bare second later and three people stepped out of cover and surrounded me, one even had a bow with an arrow already nocked on the string. The two in front (a man with jet black hair and a woman with hair that was a stark reminder of Draco's) and the one behind me with his bow (another man with jet black hair and eyes to match) looked relaxed but the only the bowman had a weapon ready, the two in front of me - thankfully - had their weapons sheathed.

"Why have you come to this place, Human?" the woman asked in what seemed to be perfect English (which surprised the hell out of me considering this was a whole different world) as she stepped forward. She was shorter than me but something told me she was probably the most terrifying opponent I was going to face if things got violent. My instincts were screaming at me that she was a lot more dangerous than she looked… Almost like 'Mione if you stole a book out from under her nose, burned it, and claimed it was a joke - to say things would get ugly would be putting it lightly.

"I am seeking shelter from the king," I said simply, willing the elder wand to disappear and holding up my hands in surrender. "I mean you no harm." The man and woman's eyes were wider than dinner plates as they locked their gazes on my left hand. I raised my eyebrow at them right before Astraeus, the showman he is, dive bombed me and landed directly on my shoulders - my knees nearly threatened to give out since he weighed a whopping forty-five pounds now - hissing and sputtering at the trio of elves (I finally noticed their ears weren't quite human) he thought were threatening me.

"A dragon…" The blue eyed elf in front of me whispered in awe before they snapped back to me. "And his Rider... You stole one of the Usurpers eggs? And made it out to tell the tale?"

I grinned ferally at the term, "No. I stole three eggs but this little one hatched for me. Does he have any more? I can go back for them if you'd like?" For a second there was utter silence before the three of them ran at me faster than I could follow and tackled me to the ground - this also happened to chuck Astraeus through the air like a ragdoll, he didn't appreciate that one bit if the sound he made was any indication. I hit the grass with an explosive whoof! While the three elves were laughing merrily with the most beautiful, bell like tones I had ever heard.

"The Dragons have returned!" The woman cried in a surprisingly husky tone as they pinned me to the floor. Astraeus wheezed as he pawed at my shoulder, immediately the three of the elves were off of me and cooing over him.

"What is this little one's name?" The black eyed elf asked in a rich baritone before we locked eyes.

"Astraeus," I said as I clambered to my feet, pulling the dragon back onto my shoulders. "And I'm Harry, Harry Potter, pleasure," I reached out my hand and the elf clasped arms with me - much to my surprise.

"He has chosen you, it is a great honor for one of your kind, Son of Man. Just as it is for ours, and as it is to meet you, Rider Potter. I am Wyrden of Ellesmera and these are my companions." I narrowed my eyes slightly at the 'of your kind,' part but stayed calm.

The blue eyed elf stood to his full height, did a strange little bow with his wrist curved over his chest, raised two fingers to his lips, and said "Atra esterni ono thelduin, Shur'tugal Potter. I am Vanir of Ellesmera."

"Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr, Argetlam. I am Yaela of Ellesmera," she did the same little bow thing as they looked at me expectantly.

"Uh… Hi," I said as I scratched the back of my head, "I have no idea what you said but thank you? I think…" Astraeus blew a puff of air into my ear and I could have sworn the damn thing chuckled at me. I looked at him and sighed, knowing there was no way I could win against him. The elves chuckled as Wyrden picked his bow back up off the ground and slung it over his shoulder, replacing the arrow in his quiver with an easy motion.

"Quite alright, Argetlam," Yaela said quietly, "where does your path take you?"

"Where the wind blows and the King can't follow," I said with a nervous chuckle, "I uh… I kind of stole his stuff. At the very least I took a lot of it..." I tapped my chin thoughtfully as the three elves looked at me like I had sprouted three heads while I unsheathed my blade - much to their shock. I handed it hilt first to Wyrden who took the sword reverently.

"This is a rider's blade," Wyrden muttered as he held up the black longsword in the dying light.

"Taken by the mad king in the fall," Yaela said exasperatedly as she took the sword and inspected it herself. "Yes, we were both there, Wyrden. Only Vanir is too young to remember the devastation."

"I was born that year, Yaela. I am no child."

"Nay, but you are still young, Vanir-vodhr." The elf looked like he was about to pout but calmed at the word attached to his name.

"Just out of curiosity," I asked slowly, "when was this Fall you speak of?"

"Five and fifty years ago, Rider Potter. I was ten at the fall, Wyrden was three and twenty. We were but mere children." I felt my jaw drop as she said that, she didn't look older than twenty but she was older than sixty!

"What say you, human? How many years have you seen?" Vanir asked as he looked at me, "you look as if you have yet to see twenty but you speak with the wisdom of time… I am intrigued." He handed me the sword - slightly reluctantly - and I took it graciously, returning it to its scabbard.

"Forty-one, or one and forty, however you put it," I said scratching the back of my head, "there are… uh, extenuating circumstances for my apparent youth."

"Indeed… A man of one and forty yet you look half that age, how intriguing," Yaela said with a smirk. "Arya-dröttningu would be as well… Mayhaps you will meet her one day though she has not been seen in Ellesmera for nearly five and twenty years."

"Maybe then," I said, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. The elves just laughed merrily.

"You must come with us," Yaela said with a broad smile. "We shall return to Ellesmera with all haste upon the dawn. I ask you that you follow us to our camp, Argetlam. It is regretful that we do not have a tent for you but the weather is fair." I waved my hand in dismissal.

"Don't worry about me, I can make do. Thank you though," I said as we started back into the trees, "so how far is Ellesmera from here? I was headed toward Kirtan."

"Alone you could have wandered these woods for years and not found Ellesmera, Argetlam," Vanir said pompously. "We will arrive in a fortnight if we can find mounts. Kirtan is a three night journey on foot. We will stop there for mounts."

"A fortnight?" I asked dumbly, "it'll take two weeks to get there?"

"I believe that is what Vanir said," Wyrden said with a small smirk. "Though we may travel faster if you are an experienced rider."

"Horses? Oh no, but I do have my own talents," I said with a feral grin. The three elves didn't even answer but turned back to the trees and ghosted through them like spectres. If I hadn't tagged Vanir with a wordless, wandless tracking charm I would have gotten turned around at least three different times. As it is, I think the elves were impressed that I could keep pace with them (or at least find them, they didn't need to know that I was apparating behind them) so easily.

It took about five minutes but I found myself in a rather large clearing with the elves already bustling around the grotto, pitching tents, gathering firewood, the works.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked Yaela who was pitching her tent. With a few muttered words, the thing sprung up and started pitching itself. The woman looked at me with a smile on her lips and a spark in her green eyes.

"Nay, Argetlam. I believe we have it well in hand. I have an extra blanket if you would like it for the night?" She asked quietly and I shook my head.

"Thank you, Yaela. You're most kind, but I have my tent right here," I said patting my chest. She raised an eyebrow at me as I pulled out my mokeskin pouch and summoned my smallest wizard's tent to the top. What? I was the founder and leader of the Dragon Corps, some of those instincts never go away. I'm just glad that Death let me keep this much… It may have been everything on me, but still.

"Oh?" she asked, obviously unimpressed. I just smirked and reached down elbow deep into the necklace, much to her shock, and pulled out the tent. "By fire," she whispered as I tossed the tent behind me and she watched it pitch itself midair before staking itself to the ground.

"It's pretty impressive, isn't it?" I asked with a small smile. Waving my hand again and summoning some firewood from the underbrush and directing it toward the firepit Vanir had set up.

I glanced back at Yaela and saw her jaw hanging open, right along with Wyrden's and Vanir's too.

"Uh? Something wrong?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"How did you… Magic has to be said to be directed with use of the ancient language and you did all of this without so much as a syllable," Wyrden said, awed by the small display I just put on.

"Oh, uh… well, would it help if I said that was nothing?" I asked nervously. Apparently, it did not. The three of them dragged me over to the edge of the firepit and were bombarding me with questions so quickly that I could hardly keep track of them before Astraeus swooped in and saved the day. Instantly, the three stopped their barrage of questions to stare at the dragon perched on my shoulders again - and he's going to have to stop using my shoulders as a landing pad or my back and knees are not going to be happy about it one of these days. I just rolled my eyes at the elves, they were honestly like Lily Luna in a way. Captivated by just about anything they saw that they thought was awesome.

"Earth to elves," I snarked and they all looked at me again. "I'll answer your questions, just one at a time." I flicked my wrist at one of the larger pieces of wood - read: a massive freaking log - and levitated it out to the side of the pit, standing up and over it.

"What is your coat made of?" Vanir asked. I glanced back at him and realized that the three elves had finally gotten a good look at my coat and were eyeing me dangerously.

"Basilisk hide," I replied, turning to them fully, "nasty beastie it was. The one I slew had killed thirty people already and was on its way to killing a dozen more by the time I got there to kill it. Thing was thirty meters long and tried to eat me… Only the second time in my life a basilisk has tried to eat me but some people never even get to see a Basilisk, much less fight one, even less win…" I trailed off as I turned to the log and cast five diffindoes before turning the stumps over and casting scindus quarten on them as well to split them up into fourths, getting us twenty-four pieces of good firewood for the night.

"A basilisk? Thirty meters?" Wyrden asked. "Is that the name your people have for dragons?"

"Heavens no," I scoffed as I levitated the wood into a stack by the fire. I closed my eyes and focused on transfiguring one of the logs to match, in seconds there was a replica basilisk in my hand… But about a tenth of the size. "Keep in mind that the real thing is about about ten times this size. A basilisk, as you see," I said holding the rather docile snake up for them to examine as I knelt in front of them. They leaned in with wide eyes as they tried to imagine the massive beast, "is a giant snake that can kill with its eyes and possesses some of the most powerful venom known to man."

Vanir whistled while Wyrden stacked the firewood into a small pile in the pit and filled the center with tinder, "brisingr," he whispered and the tinder leapt up like a flare. I nodded in approval as the fire started cheerfully crackling while Vanir held out his hands for the serpent. I let it slither over to him and the smile Vanir had was larger than any I had seen on him. I stood up and moved to the other side of the firepit and sat down.

"And how did you slay this… Basilisk?" Yaela asked, leaning forward from her place on the ground to get a better look at the green-black snake in Vanir's hands.

"Well, considering it's hide is nigh impenetrable, I had to choke it out. Not all that hard to do, actually," I said as I stroked what little stubble I had. "Threw a bag with a metal collar over its head and shrunk it down. If it can't see you then it can't kill you, and if it can't breathe it can't fight… It was the most humane thing to do." The elves looked somber but nodded in agreement.

"Yet you wear it's skin as a trophy? Why?" Yaela asked.

"A trophy?" I blinked before nodding, "okay, I can see where you would get that impression. But no. This," I indicated the jacket, and stood up again, "is armor. Activate!" Immediately, the armor sprang to life around me and shocked the hell out of the elves who were now face to face with a steel clad, faceless, juggernaut. The helmet's visor didn't have eye holes but was instead charmed so where I could see out of it perfectly - better than perfectly, actually, but I already talked about that.

"Incredible," Wyrden said as he examined the armor up and down, "perhaps slightly dated in terms of design but it is strong, light, and fast… Rhunon-elda will be eager to examine this."

"Deactivate!" I hissed, slamming my fist to my chest again and looking Wyrden in the eye with a raised brow. "Just who is this Rhunon and why will she be examining my armor?" I snapped sarcastically. Apparently the elves didn't catch it.

"She is the smith," Vanir said seriously and nothing more was said about it as the fire crackled merrily.

"Ah." I said, like that explained everything… Though it may have had.

"What do you know of us, Harry?" Yaela asked quietly.

"Nothing," I said honestly, and that was the truth. I had no idea what these elves were like considering the elves back home were all of the house variety.

"Then make yourself comfortable, son of man, for we have little time to teach you what you must know in Ellesmera." She said quietly. I snapped my fingers and four rockers appeared around the fire from out of nowhere. I climbed into one as the three elves looked utterly stunned.

"What? Never seen a bit of conjuration before?" I asked with a smirk as Astraeus settled in my lap as the elves began to educate me on their culture and people as the sun sank below the trees - foreign stars hammering home the fact that this was not my world.

XXX

[1] - Also known as 7955 After Creation, also known as 45 years before Canon.

[2] - 20 tonnes of gold = 1.286 billion dollars modern. Please keep in mind that this is a rough figure, I am not going for accuracy of bullion or if this would be a feasible amount.

[3] - Roughly 450 miles, max apparition distance is 500 miles for narrative purposes.