A/N: And thus I return, triumphant! Bow before me, puny mortals and offer up your reviews so that I may forge ever-greater works!

Ahem.

Anyway, I'm back. And for those interested parties, let me assure you that this is not going to be a godlike!Harry story, nor is it even going to be a particularly superpowered!Harry story (as much as that can be a thing while having him be the Master of a superhuman spirit with an EX ranked anti-world Noble Phantasm). That said, Harry will most certainly not be a pushover when it comes to magic. He a prodigy in his own style of magecraft is what I'm aiming for, not unlike Rin with her Jewelcraft, as opposed to a Gary Stu.

Disclaimer: I do not own TYPE-MOON or Harry Potter. I can only aspire to such greatness, and strive to claim that glory that lies beyond the horizon.

Truly, Semiramis mused, this was an age where the cunning were the masters.

Her curiosity about the concept which the knowledge granted by the Grail termed the 'internet' had led to a research spree. It had opened her eyes to the new age, beyond the basic knowledge granted to her by virtue of her summoning.

An age where the feats of arms which had dominated her era were regarded as barbaric, things of the past and 'lesser nations'. An age where, for the right price, anything could be obtained. A world where magic was dismissed as fantasy, madness and the failed understanding of ancient minds.

This was an age where those with cunning, ruthlessness and the will to use whatever advantages they possessed to achieve their ends ruled, could become emperors in all but name. And what empires! Corporations and businesses, spread across the globe - a spherical world, how incredible! - extending arms and hands wherever profit can be found. That kind of domain was far more to her liking than the clunky Assyria she once ruled. A general she was, and a good one, but first and foremost she was a manipulator, an Assassin by virtue of her poisons, both of liquids and of words.

Yes, this world was perfectly suited to her style of ruling and she intended to conquer it in her own particular fashion.

Shaking off her fantasies of the possibilities of the reality she found herself in, the ancient queen turned her attentions to the child lying upon the opulent bed of the Royal Suite of the Corinthia hotel. The exorbitant price that the receptionist had asked had been easily dodged with a judicious application of magic and, although the arrangement would not be permanent, it was more than satisfactory for the time being. Truly, the amenities of this modern age were quite incredible.

The black-clothed spirit had perused the letter on the short train ride from Surrey to Greater London and its contents had been both enlightening and infuriating. According to the 'Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore' who had penned the letter, young Harry's parents had been killed by a powerful 'wizard' - presumably the same thing as an agugiltu - and the occupants of the house (one Petunia and Vernon Dursley) were the next of kin. Furthermore, the letter asked that they take in the boy, along with a number of barely-veiled threats of what might happen if they did not do so.

In truth, Semiramis could see why they might be resentful of the boy, though it was by no means an excuse for their treatment of him.

The most important part of the missive, though, was the fact that it gave directions to the entrance to the 'Wizarding World', so that they might 'purchase Harry's school supplies, when the time came'. Such a locale warranted investigation, especially if the child had inherited assets or - even better - something analogous to a Magic Crest. If such a treasure did exist, allowing it to be lost would be unforgivable, both for the child himself and for his family's legacy.

Before such an expedition could be launched, though, the child's health had to be seen to. Rising from the cream-coloured armchair where she had ensconced herself, the magus made her way over to the bed where she had placed the child. Making sure that the spell which kept the boy asleep was still in effect, along with the minor cantrips keeping his injuries from further damage, she maneuvered him from his position to one where she could squirm her arms beneath his back and knees and hoist him from the bed.

She carried him easily over to the penthouse's luxurious bathroom and carefully deposited him in one of the bathtubs (although calling them simply a 'bathtub' would be not unlike calling the Star of Africa 'shiny'). Carefully, she removed the baggy, ill fitting clothes to reveal the child's body. The sight of his ribs, clearly visible through tight-stretched skin and the multitude of sickly greens and bruised purples running up his side made her want to return and reinforce the curse she had cast upon the house of the pigs (she had resolved to refer to them only as such, as they were unworthy of the name 'human'). Resting the boy's head on the side of the bath so that he was in a sitting position, she turned the taps, letting a cascade of lukewarm water slowly fill up the tub.

The preparation was necessary for her more powerful healing magics, as, while her powerful water alignment aided in such spells, her talents with regards to the human body were more in the realm of its degradation than in restoration. Still, she had a better knowledge of anatomy than many and such wounds, although unpleasant for the child, were well within her capabilities to heal.

In her mind, a drop of venom fell into a glass of wine and, at the moment of contact, she felt her magic circuits flare to life.

"Rain falls in the desert, flowers bloom beneath." muttered the revived magus in Akkadian. The aria was not strictly necessary for the working of this magic but it made the spell easier to cast and there was no reason not to use it.

The magic spread from her outstretched hands to envelop the semi-immersed child in a gentle wash of energy. It fused with the water and soothed the injuries that it touched. The unpleasant stains of burst blood vessels began to shrink before Semiramis' eyes, relinquishing their hold on Harry's body as they were beaten back by the spell. Cupping her hands together, the queen poured a small quantity of the faintly-glowing water over the cut on the child's forehead. As it did so, the ancient queen felt an abnormality in the prana flow there, as if some magic or entity was contained or trapped there. The abnormality was not enough to interfere with the proper operation of her spell but it was nevertheless another mystery centered on the young Harry Potter.

Noting the anomaly for later investigation, the first poisoner sustained the magic until the child's injuries were fully healed before dressing him in one of the towelled dressing gowns provided by the hotel. She carried him to one of the bedrooms and laid him down upon the bed before setting a spell to warn her of his waking and leaving to begin the preparations necessary for the coming years.

A place and materials for her Hanging Gardens of Babylon had to be secured, as well as the summoning of her familiars to scout out the location. Proper clothes had to be acquired for the child and some others for herself, although she could give a request to one of the butlers for that particular errand. On top of that, protections ought to be erected over her temporary residence and information had to be gathered before any moves could be made on the true powers of the world, the corporations whose leadership she desired. And further than that, the 'Diagon Alley' mentioned in the letter should be investigated, although she would likely put that off until it had been scouted by her beloved dove familiars.

The ancient queen chuckled to herself. The work of a tyrant was never done, it seemed.

As Harry blearily clawed his way to wakefulness, everything seemed disjointed and strange. The last thing he remembered was the yellow-eyed lady saying that she would protect him and then he'd just felt so sleepy. Even weirder was that he didn't hurt at all. He'd not been un-bruised for ages.

Then he opened his eyes and took in the room he found himself in.

Above his head, light issued from a crystal-encrusted globe and diffused through a hundred glass raindrops to illuminate the wood-panelled walls. The bed itself seemed big enough to get lost in, especially to one who spent his nights in a claustrophobic cupboard. Golden flowers glinted from their stone-filled vase on the bedside table while tasteful abstract artworks splashed between a pair of white-blinded windows. It was everything that the Dursleys' house had not been.

What truly commanded Harry's attention, though, was the yellow-eyed and pointed-eared figure lounging on the chaise longue beside the bed.

"You're awake, then," she said, setting aside the fluted crystal glass that she had been nursing and straightening up.

"Where am I?" asked the young boy, a little overwhelmed by his surroundings and the niggling doubt in the back of his mind that this had to be a dream.

"Is that how you address a queen, young one?"

"Well I-"

"No matter. It can be excused, for now, given your situation. I am known as Semiramis, the Wise Queen of Assyria, daughter of the goddess Derketo, who is also Atargatis and widow of the king Ninus. You may call me by Semiramis, mother or agarinnu*, for I have determined to make you my son."

All thought of location came to a screeching halt with those last words. Someone wanted him? And she said she was a queen! The only queen he'd ever seen was the lady with the grey hair on the Dursleys' TV. The woman on the chaise longue looked nothing like how he imagined a queen, but she did have a certain… feeling about her even when she was half-lounging. An air of authority, as if she simply expected her commands to be obeyed unquestioningly. He somehow doubted that she was often disappointed.

"Shall I take your silence as acceptance?"

The honeyed voice interrupted Harry's frantic thoughts, drawing him back to reality.

"Do you promise that I don't have to go back?" asked the child timidly, his eyes focused on the cream-coloured sheets covering his legs.

"Upon the art of my magecraft, I shall make such a vow."

Still caught up in the unreality of the situation, Harry nodded as if in a daze. Then one of the words that the woman had used properly registered.

"Magecraft? Is that like magic?"

She smiled radiantly.

"In a way. Do you desire to see for yourself?"

This time, Harry's nods were anything but dazed.

*Mother

A/N: Because people have been asking me, I do have Harry's Origin and Elemental Alignment planned out. For those who don't want to know, what is below is a SPOILER.

Ok, if you read beyond this point, you have no right to criticise me on my spoilers. You have been warned.

Harry is one of those weird people who has a double Origin, although his second Origin is a result of the incident with Voldemort. His Origins are Crucible (being the process of the purging of impurity through hardship) and [Death]. [Death] was the original one, being a large part of what designates him as the Master of Death, but was warped by the introduction of the Killing Curse. The two like-natured energies simultaneously repelled and attracted, each paradoxically overcoming the other. As a 'hard resolution' to the violent paradox within him, Harry's soul was warped to produce a 'container' to suppress them, the Origin of Crucible.

Harry's Elemental Alignment is similarly split and irregular and consists of Miracle and Singularity. The first is an attribute shared by all wizards and is what allows them to make wizardry work. The second is unique to Harry, in much the same way as Sakura's Imaginary Numbers alignment. Singularity revolves around forces of attraction and repulsion, bending things around oneself and making one a lynchpin for processes. In canon, Harry manifests this alignment in his aptitude for summoning and banishing spells, as well as the way that the entire story 'bends' around him. In this fanfiction, his magecraft will largely focus around his Alignment. Offensively, he's going to be doing stuff like manipulating gravity and magnetism, while more passively he's going to be skilled in redirecting attention away from him, as well as making people either be drawn to him or avoid him.

Lastly, Harry's not getting a Reality Marble. He's not that distorted.

Does this sound interesting? Please give me some feedback.