Celebwen Telcontar: Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to wait so long!!

Balrog: What? You're actually updating that story? I thought you abandoned it.

Celebwen Telcontar: I didn't! Well, here it is, people!

Albus Dumbledore looked at the parchment. Hippodorous Zorkos had sent this to him: the ancient Macedonian palace at Pella had been rebuilt. Horses in the areas that had been governed by King Alexander III of Macedonia and any of his descendants—which included what had been the Roman Empire, courtesy of Queen Cleopatra VII, who married Julius Caesar—were rebelling. The wards set by any of Alexander's descendants were reverting back to Alexander's Heir. Since Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin had been related directly to the Macedonian royal line, albeit far back, the Hogwarts wards and magic were rebelling. This morning he had tried to get into his office, and the gargoyle had made a rude gesture at him and blew a raspberry. Now his office was in an unused classroom he had tried to convert. He had attempted to use a portrait as the door, until the portrait of the giraffe had simply looked at him with disdain and defecated at Albus' feet in the painting. The portraits had long since been very obnoxious, especially Sir Cadogan, who had led a pair of lost Hufflepuff first years into the dungeons purposefully when they had tried to get to the North Tower.

The woman ran through the countryside. She was escaping her husband and brothers-in-law, who both wanted her dead.

If I use magic, I'm dead. If I give myself up to them, I'm worse than dead. A fence; must be a Muggle yard. I can hide there. Thank God Andromeda taught me Muggle lock picking.

She vaulted the tall fence, and landed in a patch of briars, with the only sound being the crunching and the snapping of the branches. The woman bit her tongue until coppery tasting blood filled her mouth, softly spat, and struggled out of the briars. Then, she saw that it must be a Wizard's yard. A stable sat at one side of the fence, and about fifty horses were grazing or staring at her. A light grey mare walked over and looked at her, then went to her knees. This horse wants me on her back! Maybe I can get away! She rukked her robes up about her hips and swung her leg over the mare's back. The grey mare pulled herself to her feet, softly snorted, and the horses looked at her. She gave a soft whinny as the woman heard swearing and crunching branches behind her.

"Damn it all!" the woman's husband roared in a harsh whisper. The grey mare whickered lightly, and two horses ran in one direction, leaping the fence. Then, the herd, the grey mare in the lead, ran at the fence, hurtling it. Then, a long and grueling run began.

The woman groaned as her legs protested the long run. The mare stopped in the wild countryside, looked around, and trotted to a stand of trees. Then, she lowered herself to her knees, and the woman dismounted painfully. The mare looked up and ripped several branches from the tree, creating a large area for the woman to sleep on, and she walked off to relieve her bladder and lay down on the makeshift bed. Then the two horses sent off by the grey, which she now called Moonshadow, came up, both bearing a bag. The first was a haversack, and in it was a full water bottle, and a set of Muggle clothes suited for horseback riding. In the other were two loaves of good bread, a large wheel of cheese, and a tub of butter. The woman took a drink from the water bottle, then ripped a piece of bread off of the heel and a piece of cheese off of the wheel, and began to eat. A refugee she was, but where remarkable and intelligent horses were concerned, she was not alone. She may have been a Death Eater, but she now repudiated that life, and decided to help the Boy Who Lived, if she could. If Moonshadow and her herd took her someplace she could help.

"I'm a reformed woman, Moonshadow. No longer will I deal in evil ways," she declared. The horse neighed and nuzzled her.

"What, exactly, do I own?" Harry asked Bucephalus and Ptolemaic.

From Alexander, you have all of his conquests: the Middle East, and part of Africa, not to mention Greece. When Alexander died, his generals split up his territories into smaller, more manageable kingdoms. Ptolemy got Egypt; one of his descendants was Queen Cleopatra VII. She wed with Julius Caesar and bore him at least one child. Thus, through that child, you have also inherited the Roman Empire, which has multiple overlaps with Alexander's kingdom. Ptolemaic explained.

:You also own every colony those parts of the Greek and Roman Empires owned. So basically you own everything in the world save China, Japan, and everything in between. By the way, I've been keeping an 'eye' on Dumbledore. He wants to control you to keep you from becoming too powerful.:

Then we keep Dumbledore from knowing about this. You will have so much better of an advantage if all he and the Ministry know is that the King of Macedonia has arisen. You should to take a pseudonym, preferably an ancient one of great power. Hmmm… Ptolemaic tapped the end of his tail on the ground, like a human would tap their fingers on the table. We should go to Pella until August 31, by the Julian calendar. Get on Bucephalus, the horses are fine where they are, back at Privet Dr. Harry did as he was told, and the Apparated aback to the Macedonian palace.

:Harry, how's Hector? It begins with an H, he was royal, and he was a great soldier and horse trainer."

And he was killed by Achilles. Don't forget that.

:Okay, never mind about Hector. How's Patroclus?:

Killed by Hector. He was Achilles' lover.

:Odysseus?:

Harry'd never remember to respond to it!

:Will you stop being contrary, you bloody snake?!:

Only if you stop giving idiotic answers, moronic equine!

"Both of you, shut up! I'm getting a headache! How's Alexander IV?"

:Good, I agree. What about you, serpent?:

No it's too great a name. And besides, you won't answer to it!

:Now you're just being contrary!:

And what if I am?

:Alexander IV is not too great a name to not be used. That's some name like Zeus, or maybe another god. He'd show that he's been respectful towards the ancients.

Ugh. You're right, horse.. Alexander IV you will be, Harry.

:Now you need servants, clerks, secretaries, cooks, and a wife. A wife who can rule, who knows of the enemy and any plans they may have, and one you can learn to love. Love will come later, but for now we need a good woman with a good head on her shoulders.: Bucephalus stopped speaking as both Ptolemaic and Harry looked at him.

For once, horse, you're actually making sense. Who would have thought? Ptolemaic hissed.

Days had passed. The herd of horses swam the English Channel, without the Death Eaters knowing, in the middle of the night, with the new moon hiding them.

Her legs were freezing, she was completely soaked, and her extremities were numb when the herd of horses walked onto dry land in what was presumably France. The horses sped up to a gentle canter, and the woman gritted her teeth and held on with benumbed fingers. The bread, cheese, and fresh picked apples seemed ages ago, though she had eaten them just before they and entered the icy Channel water.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

:Ash,: Bucephalus' voice called.

I'm not Ash Moonshadow replied. My mane is Moonshadow, and I've found the perfect Queen of Macedonia. Kind, a reformed Death Eater, knows the enemy and their habits, and is used to ruling a household. Yes, I know a household isn't the same thing as a country, much less an empire, but she is the best we have.

:Good. Right now, I'll be willing even to put up with that Lestrange woman until we can get a good queen on the soil. Harry, now Alexander IV, will be going to a Muggle University.:

A Muggle university?! What about a philosopher to teach him?

:The philosophers are now the Universities, Ash…Moonshadow. Sorry, there. Well, here we go. We need to get everything together to send him off.:

Celebwen Telcontar: Sorry about the slow update. I'm revamping the entire story, so hopefully this will keep you guys busy for a while. Now, who is the woman, may you ask?

Balrog: How long has it been…?

Celebwen Telcontar: (Looks sheepish) I really don't know.

Balrog: Hmmmph.