I Do not Own either World of Warcraft nor Harry Potter. Anything that you may recognize do not

belong to me.

I would like to say that this is my first story, and that English is not my first language.

AU for Both WOW and Harry Potter, OOC probable.

Chapter 2

Yes

Yes

NO!

No

…no.

Khadgar's shoulder could only fall in disappointment when he heard the vote of Modera. It was final, the Horde would not be able to send mages to join the Kirin Tor. It was painful to see the vicious smile on Jaina's face at her victory. She who at one point had been the voice of peace between the factions was now just as biased as the rest of the Alliance. Oh, the archmage had her reasons of course, the betrayal of Arthas, leading and later losing Theramore had taken its toll on the young mage.

Still how could she not see the danger her vendetta against the Horde was putting them in? Between Garrosh Hellscream's flee to a different timeline of Draenor, and the offensive of the Burning Legion, orchestrated by a newly returned Gul'dan, Azeroth could not afford to be divided. Especially since the world had not yet healed from the destruction of the Cataclysm, and the two consecutives campaign to the Outlands and Northend.

But giving up had never been in the nature of Khadgar. He had lived through two wars, one of which he ended, and had survived for years in the unforgiving wasteland that were the Outlands. If Kirin Tor would not take action against those threats then he would do so by himself. Smiling softly he could almost feel the presence of Garona and Anduin Lothar beside him, just like all those years ago when his adventures began during the First War.

Perhaps it was for the best, he mused silently, perhaps he could do more for Azeroth in the middle of the action instead of behind the front lines. His magic danced at the thought, ready to be unleashed on those who dared to threaten the future of his world.

'You would do well, Archmage Khadgar to remember that the Kirin Tor fights for the stability of Azeroth and is sworn to the Alliance. How could we trust the beasts of the Horde with the formidable knowledge that we keep, when their History clearly shows that destruction is the only reason behind their pursuit of the Arcances. We cannot, and will not put the races of the Alliance in danger by providing their enemies with more means to destroy them.' Jaina certainly had her way with words, already the rest of the council was nodding in agreement. 'If your loyalty is so uncertain, it would maybe be for the best if you did not occupied a place so important in our midst, Khadgar.'

Now that was a master move. Jaina Proumoore had put him in a corner, he would have to bow down to her authority or turn his back on Kirin Tor and more generally the Alliance; both allegiances he had followed since he was but a boy. However, in her haste, or maybe arrogance, the current Leader of Dalaran had not anticipated two things. The first is that while respected and admired herself, Khadgar was her senior, both in the Kirin Tor and as a Mage, as well as a war hero. Therefore, even without being the leader of the council, he held a very important place in the eyes of the mages worldwide, and his sacking from the organization would turn more than a few backs on Jaina. The second oversight was much more simple of course. Khadgar had allies and friends in a lot of places, and while the loss of his position would hinder his plans, he would be far from alone.

'Yes. Yes you may be right Archmage Proudmoore.' the Student of Medivh started. 'It would perhaps be for the best if I let my place in the council and in Kirin Tor to the newer generation. I would have to confess that after almost four decades, I am beginning to tire with the eternal conflict between our races.'

That sure whipped the smile off of Jaina's face as she understood exactly just how dire her position had just become. Being publicly opposed to Khadgar was not in her plans, and if word spread that her actions had driven one of the most powerful and influential human of recent history away from the Alliance, her time as leader of Kirin Tor would come to a brutal end.

'I believe that I would much better serve in the middle of the campaign than here. I have had my say amongst this esteemed council for a time longer than average and it is maybe time for me to pass the torch to someone who is more in touch with the present… climate here in Kirin Tor' The venom in the archmage's speech was almost palpable. 'I would recommend the Archdruid Staghelm, if you manage to find him, I am sure you would have much to agree on'

'Now see here Khadgar' Jaina started hotly, her cheeks burning in anger and embarrassment 'You are overstepping your position! Do remember where you are and whom you are talking to!'

'SILENCE!' bellowed the now enraged apprentice of Medivh. Magic filled everyone's senses as the shadows grew within the Violet Citadel, an overwhelming aura of power reminding all present that while jovial and friendly, this was still the most powerful magic user since Gul'dan and Medivh. 'I think you will find, Jaina Proudmoore, that it is you who is forgetting yourself! I am Khadgar! The apprentice of the last Guardian, the defier of Sargeras! I have been fighting the Horde and the Burning Legion since before you were born! You are not the only one here who suffered, not by a long shot! However you have to realize that your anger towards the Horde, however justified, is condemning us all! For decades now the armies of Sargeras have exploited our hatred toward each other, and now here on the bridge of extinction, you would still divide the races of Azeroth even if it means our end. Very well then. If that is your wish, remain here, in your anger, alone. But I will be out there, fighting for the future of our world, with whomever will stand by my side, be them human or orc'

Not waiting for an answer, Khadgar turned into a raven and flew away in the wilderness of Deadwind Pass.

Pain… Agony… Unable to actually feel anything and yet torment was all of Illidan Stormrage's world. He did not know how long had passed since he was here. Days, weeks, years? His defeat on top of the Black Temple seemed so far away now, his last words to Maiev of taunts seemed to have done their magic, since he could feel he was back to his old cell, the enchantments had of course been upgraded to match his colossal gain of power.

The warden seemed to have learned more about his condition then he had given her credit, the gigantic crystal in which he was encompassed had allowed his soul to re-enter his broken body, but stopped his magic from healing him, and left him in a state of limbo, aware of the world around him and yet unable to regain consciousness.

The punishment was worthy of a mind like Maiev of course. Alone with his thoughts any lesser man would have been driven insane. But the leader of the Illidari was no lesser man. His mind was as sharp as ever, focused on the singular thought that had driven him since as long as he could remember, and that was the destruction of the Legion.

He would replay it behind his eyes for days on end, every one of his decisions, from the war of the Ancients to the fall of the Black Temple. And for all his pain, all the betrayals he had committed and suffered, there was nothing he would change. Oh of course every time he would be just a bit faster, just a bit smarter, the one difference that would make him come out on top instead of defeated, but there was no doubt in Illidan's mind that his actions, however horrifying they might have been, were justified.

His brother was just weak. He could not see what needed to be done and feared which that he could not control. It was the reason why the arcanes were banned from Darnassus for nearly ten thousands years, and it was the reason why Malfurion had locked him away for all eternity. It would have been easier and safer to simply kill him, but his twin's weakness showed once again, appearing to be mercy and earning him the admiration of all.

Of course, no matter how horrible his actions were, Illidan's legacy was still very much welcomed by the Kal'dorei. Recreating the Well of Eternity was just terrible enough to banish him forever, yet acceptable enough that the new well would be channeled for the eternal youth the Night Elves enjoyed. And so Malfurion would go on to rule over his people enjoying the fruit of his brother's sacrifices, with the beautiful Tyrandes by his side.

Ah, Tyrandes. His heart swelled at the mere thought of the priestess of Elune, but he immediately crushed these thoughts. It would do him no good to dwell on could have been. In truth Illidan had long ago let go of his resentment and hatred toward those who betrayed him. His formidable mind clear enough still to realize that only madness would await him if he spend too long trapped in his anger. And he would need all the sanity he could spare if he wanted to fight the Legion when they would return. For there was no doubt in his mind that when once again the Hunter of Demons was needed, his jailers would set him free to fight for them.

And so Illidan would avoid as much as possible to think of his brother and Tyrandes, opting instead to plot future actions against the demons or ponder what could have been if he had been better in the past. The only person of his past he would gladly think back on was, ironically enough, Maiev. No matter how much she hated him, the Warden was the only person he had ever met that he could truly relate to. It would pain her to hear, and he doubted she would ever admit it, but they were more similar than she assumed.

She and her wardens had spend ten thousand years guarding his prison. Their entire life whole heartedly devoted to one purpose. It was only fitting that Maiev would be the only one that would keep him as she was the only one that could appreciate the value of sacrifice for one's cause as much as he did. And so despite their profound disagreements, Illidan deeply respected his warden. Not that he wouldn't kill her given the chance of course.

It was in the midst of his usual thoughts that suddenly the world changed. Ten thousand years had done nothing to the Betrayer's senses, and he could pinpoint exactly the moment when magic filled his cell. Foreign, powerful, and subtle, but magic as he had once used none the less. And with that for the first time in millennia Illidan's eyes opened.

'I hope you don't mind but I took the liberty of returning your natural sight for the duration of the discussion'

If the sudden voice coming from a presence he had not noticed had not given him a heart attack, the first colours he saw in centuries nearly did. Illidan marveled at the majesty of the world he saw once more, install taking note for the first time of the cell that had been his companion for so long. As he had guessed he was trapped in a magical crystal, but he could, for some reason see through it as if it were not here. The cell was larger than he would have assumed however, but just as dark and humid. Droplets of water fell from the ceiling, but for some reason they seemed to take forever to do so. Actually, everything around were sluggish, as if moving though thick mud. All but the figure that stood before him and was undeniably the source of the foreign magic. He was a man, Illidan thought, or at least had the face of one. Just like the draconic aspect, the creature might appear bipedal and frail but the presence underneath the surface left no doubt that he was something more. He looked young, in his mid twenties maybe. Black hair lazily slicked back, and pale skin. The stranger was clad in black cloth from head to feet, a fine silk black cloak wrapped around his shoulders. But his eyes were the real point of focus. A deeper, clearer green than the Fel's perversion, yet an even shinier one than that of the emerald dream. Amusement and mischievousness danced behind the iris, yet it was not pleasant, for it had a rather predatory look to it. With a slight smile, the new comer spoke, once more.

'I have to confess, this is a rather impressive cage. One that I myself have struggled to enter. But still, having heard of your deeds, I suppose the extra security is warranted.' said the wizard, in a voice different than the ones Illidan remembered hearing from adventurers. It had an accent he had never heard before, with a certain nobility and hypnotic quality to it. 'Illidan Stormrage, the Betrayer… Such a tragic story. I myself am a sucker for tragic stories. This is why I have wanted to meet you for long. You sacrificed everything to save your people, your dignity, your eyes… your love. And yet how do they repay you? By betraying you. Locking you in the little piece of Hell until such a time come that you would be needed again. And you my friend did not disappoint! You still fought for them, for her… more sacrifices, more pain. Such a shame they could not see it though…'

He could not help it, the seductive, compassionate tone rang a chord in Illidan. Old feelings of bitterness rose, outrage long forgotten at the treatment he received from his family and friends. A part of his mind knew that only trouble would come from listening to the honey the stranger was pouring down his ears. But even he had cracks on his armor and the speaker visibly knew exactly where to hit.

'This is why I have come really. After all you have done for our world, for all worlds, after all you have given up on to fight the Legion, you of all people deserve something good. Some… Reward, one would say' Continued the green eyed man 'Tell me, great Demon Hunter, what is it that you desire? Your freedom perhaps? The love of a certain green haired priestess? The death of your brother…?'

Illidan did not need to look to know that the face of his interlocutor was split in a vicious smile. All throughout his speech the Voice had become more passionate, and had gained a magical dimension, seemingly coming from everywhere at once.

'And I suppose that such an offer does not come free…?' The raspy voice of Illidan rang, sounding foreign from lack of use. 'A being such as you rarely does anything out of the goodness of their heart'

'I see that nothing pass by you!' laughed the man, seemingly overjoyed by how fast the prisoner was understanding the situation. Yet as fast as the amusement had come it was replaced by a cool facade 'You are correct, of course. I have come to you in the hope of striking a deal with you. The price I will ask of course will depend on what it is you ask of me. Someone with an understanding of sacrifice as keen as yours must understand the principle I assume'

'Save your transparent flattery, Serpent! Had I been free I would have struck you down where you stand for your insolence!' Strength had return to him and the shock of the situation had dissipated enough so that his famous temper started to rise. 'Still… Desperate times leads to desperate measures… If I could ask for anything… Then I would like to have the chance to fight the Burning Legion once more.'

The man stood there in a solemn silence for a while after that. Tacit respect shone in his eyes as he contemplated the request of a man who had sacrifice much to fight the Demons, and was ready to give up even more to keep fighting.

'You truly are worthy of being called Demon Hunter, Illidan Stormrage. The Kal'Dorei lost a great Elf in their bigotry. Very well then, are you ready to hear the prize of your request?'

'Wait… Wait. Before whatever outrageous ransom you demand for your magic, could I at least know your name? I thought It was tradition for devils to introduce themselves to those with whom they make deals?'

'Oh, I assure you, I am quite human. I age, and will die as is our lot to all. And I do not have any interest in your soul if that is what you are worried about. But very well. I suppose it was a large oversight of my part to strike a conversation without even introducing myself. My name, is Lord Hadrian J. Potter, Keeper of the Inevitable. But you may call me Harry.'

The newly introduced Harry bowed his head to Illidan with a smile, apparently delighted that someone had asked him to introduce himself.

'As for your payment… It will be your Legacy, Illidan Stormrage.'

Whatever Illidan was expecting, that definitely was not it. Already an uneasy feeling was weighting on his guts. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea…

'Every thing you have done, every memories or feelings you might have caused will be barred from memory. The credit for your accomplishment will be passed to someone else. The joy and sorrow you have instilled, the love and hatred people feel for you, all will disappear forever. As soon as you accept this deal, it will be as if you had never existed. And when the consequences of opposing the Legion finally catch up to you, when you inevitably die, it will truly be the end. No one will remember your name. Not the Kal'Dorei, not Sargeras, or your Illidari, not even Malfurion… nor Tyrandes.'

The silence was deafening as the full extend of the choice before him unravelled. Illidan had always prided himself on being ready to do whatever was necessary to combat the Legion. But faced with the possibility of true and total anonymity was frightening. No one to remember him, in good or ill, nothing to mark his passage on Azeroth. A part of him doubted this Harry could even do such a thing but he had long since learned not to underestimate anyone.

On one hand not having to bear the hatred of the world would certainly be liberating, but on the other, his sweet, precious Tyrandes would forget him. She was the reason why he would go to such length to stop the Burning Legion after all, and despite all better judgment, Illidan had always held onto the hope that one day she would see him and his action for what they were, and forgive him. If not love him then at least carry the same affection that she had ten thousand years ago. But if he accepted the deal then all these dreams would vanish. All he would have left would be his war against demons.

What was it he said all these years ago to the adventurers that had invaded the Black Temple? 'YOU ARE NOT PREPARED!' And no matter how dramatic it was, it was true then and it was still true now. Azeroth was not ready to face an invading force from the Burning Legion the likes he had seen in the Twisting Nether. If he refused the deal and did nothing there was a true possibility that Darnassus would fall and Tyrandes would lose her life.

The silence seemed to stretch for ever until finally the dark and strong voice of Illidan rang in the Dungeon…

'Very well then, I will accept your offer, Harry Potter'

No sooner had these world left his mouth that the world exploded in a brilliant green light.