A/N: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and her associates. Please support the official release.

Room of Requirement

"Calm down, Harry," Hermione sighed, getting up from her seat at one of the two mahogany desks in order to better console her rampaging boyfriend. "I can see that you are mad, but we need to-"

"Mad?" Harry scoffed, pacing crisply back and forth in front of the bed. The two were currently in their shared bedroom, hidden away beneath the Room of Requirement, where Harry was taking the opportunity to vent his frustrations out loud to anyone who'd listen. "I'm not just mad, I'm fucking livid!"

"Like I said, I can see that," she continued, rolling her eyes as she stepped in front of him, putting an end to his tireless trudging. "But stomping around in circles is hardly going to solve anything."

"Dragons, Hermione! Fucking dragons!" Harry sneered, his eyes a blazing crimson, burning right through the active Colovaria spell like it was nothing. "Some of the most dangerous creatures in existence, and they expect a bunch of underage students to fight them for entertainment?! What a great fucking idea! Maybe we can get a discount at the local graveyard, too, if we buy caskets in bulk!"

"… What? No, wait, hold up a minute here… Did you just say… DRAGONS?"

And just like that, Hermione's temper flared to match Harry's.

"I cannot believe Dumbledore agreed to this!" she spat in furious outrage after pacing around in circles for a couple of minutes. "I simply cannot believe it!"

"Tell me about it," Harry grunted. "I'm the one who has to fight the damn thing."

"We should lodge a formal complaint," Hermione said. "Get some of the other students to sign it, and send it to the Headmaster."

"What good will that do?" Harry scoffed. "Dumbledore isn't even the one in charge of the Tournament. It's the Ministry you have to complain to. And we both know how well Cornelius Fudge takes to criticism."

"But… But…" Hermione stammered. "This is ridiculous! Having students fight dragons?! It's absurd!"

"Do dragons even have weaknesses?" Harry asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "Doesn't it take, like… half a dozen wizards just to stun one?"

"Yes, it does. And they are also resistant to most spells due to their thick hide," Hermione explained, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "The only real weak-spot they have are their eyes."

"Eyes, huh… So I could, theoretically speaking, blind one, with some well-placed spells," Harry mused.

"… Maybe," Hermione acquiesced. "But you would have to be quite the sharpshooter. And I highly doubt the dragon is going to be standing still a lot."

"Argh…" Harry groaned, allowing himself to fall backwards onto the bed. "What fucking mastermind thought pitting students against dragons would be a good idea?"

"Whoever it was, he or she deserves to have a taste of their own medicine," Hermione bristled. "Let them fight the dragons, too. See how much they like the idea then."

"Cold, but true," Harry agreed. "The Ministry is clearly not capable of running a Tournament like this. They seem to think a high mortality rate is some kind of badge of honor."

Letting out a sigh, Hermione plopped down on the bed next to Harry, hands fidgeting nervously as her mind considered the challenge laid out before them.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," she nodded after a moment of silence. "You're going to contact Sirius and Luna, and ask them to give you more dueling lessons. Meanwhile, I'll head to the library, and track down all the books on dragons that I can find."

"Ahh… Well, it's a start, I guess," Harry breathed, rising up into a sitting position. "Despite undergoing the Ritual, I'm still nowhere near strong enough to tackle well-trained Death Eaters. I'll need all the training I can get before we start seriously going after Voldemort."

A shiver ran through Hermione at the mention of the Dark Lord's name.

"You know, I really hate the fact that you are doomed to be the Boy-Who-Lived," she commented, resting her head on his shoulder.

"So do I," Harry echoed, running a loving hand through her brown curls. "But alas, it is the life I was born into. Plus, it's not all bad. I get to call the beautiful and talented witch Hermione Jean Granger my girlfriend, after all."

A chuckle sounded from his left.

"Wow, what a smooth-talker! Maybe you can woo the Dark Lord with that charm of yours?" she teased.

"Hah! I wish!" Harry grinned. "That would certainly make things a whole lot easier."

"I can already imagine it; the Boy-Who-Wooed, biggest philanderer in the wizarding world!"

"Not the worst title," Harry mused. "Certainly beats Boy-Who-Lived. Like, what does that even mean? Boy-Who-Lived? I thought living was a universal state of being, and not a title you could be granted? And wouldn't that technically make everyone who is currently not dead eligible for the same status as a Person-Who-Lived?"

The dead-serious look on his face soon made Hermione burst out into a fit of giggles.

"Whahahaah," she wheezed, doubling over with laughter next to him. "Wh-When you put it like that…"

"Hey, it makes sense though, doesn't it?" Harry smiled. "The Boy-Who-Lived is just a really stupid nickname."

"Haah… I suppose it is," she nodded, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye. A moment of silence followed as she collected herself and cast her mind back to the task at hand.

"Okay, so… putting the whole "dragons" thing aside, how did your meeting with Dumbledore go?" she asked, sending Harry a curious look.

"Oh, right," Harry sighed. "Dumbledore."

"Judging by your reaction just now, I'd guess it wasn't the best?"

"No, no… The meeting itself was alright. Just… incredibly weird," Harry frowned. "He basically spent 30 minutes apologizing for keeping me at an arm's length all this time, and then he… he set up another meeting next week."

"Really?" Hermione blinked. "And that was it? He didn't say anything else, or give you something to chew on?"

"No, he didn't," Harry replied. "He's usually so cryptic, and vague, and… grandfatherly. But today… I dunno, it was like he… he was scared of something, or worried, or… ahh, what do I know?"

"Dumbledore… scared?" Hermione breathed, eyes narrowing. "That's… a first."

"Yeah, for sure."

"And you're certain he didn't notice anything… odd… about you?" she continued. "Now that you've undergone the Ritual and everything."

"Oh, he knew as soon as I stepped foot in the office," Harry scoffed. "I could see it in his eyes. Feel it in his body language. I'm not sure he knows exactly what it is that I've done, but he knows that something has changed at least. And changed permanently, at that."

"Hmm…" Hermione grimaced. "Well, at least he didn't… suspend you, or anything. On suspicion of involvement with the Dark Arts."

"I've been involved with the Dark Arts my entire life, Hermione," Harry chuckled. "I've just never been an… active practitioner before recently."

"You're not a Dark Wizard, Harry," Hermione stated with ironclad determination. "You performed one ritual of… questionable nature, and that's it. And only because you had to!"

"Hermione…" Harry sighed. "My eyes are literally the color of blood."

"Eye color doesn't determine personality," Hermione denied, shaking her head. "You're still Harry. You're still Good. Or, at least… your extremely grey version of Good."

Harry couldn't help but smile at her words.

"Thank you, Hermione," he said, giving her an affectionate pat on the head. "You're the best."

"And don't you forget it," she smiled, before leaning in closer to plant a kiss on his cheek. Before she managed to reach him, however, Harry turned his head slightly to the left, resulting in her lips meeting his instead.

"Okay, that one was real cheap," Hermione giggled after breaking the kiss.

"Had to do it to 'em," Harry shrugged, an unapologetic smile adorning his features.

"Alright, lover boy," she grinned. "I'll head to the library and get started on my dragon research. And you need to contact Sirius."

"Yes, ma'am!" Harry responded, before getting to his feet and stretching out his back. This had already been one exhausting day, and it wasn't over yet.

Ain't no rest for the wicked…

Undisclosed Location near Ascot, East Berkshire, England

The guests arrived by the dozen as the sun set on the Tarwen Estate, casting long shadows across the picturesque green valley it was situated in. This land had been in the family for ages, tended to by generations of Tarwens, and now… it all belonged to him.

Maximillian Tarwen pushed a stray lock of brown hair out of his face as he gazed upon his property from his balcony on the fourth floor, the magnificent estate that remained his greatest pride. The other High Court Members all envied him, and his family's knack for business. The Tarwen Fortune, earned through centuries of bartering, trading and real estate investments.

Maximillian's father might not have been a very good parent, but he had been an excellent businessman, and a talented strategist. By the end of his long life, he had led the Tarwen family to even greater heights, before finally bestowing it all to his son.

A satisfied "hmm" leaked from Maximillian's lips as he diverted his gaze down to the courtyard, where the guests were beginning to arrive. Greetings were offered out along the gravel path, dainty lamps adding a surplus of color to the parade of footsteps. Gifts exchanged hands - a bottle of fine wine here, a bouquet of flowers there. A sweet melody drifted out from the entrance hall, setting a regal undertone to it all.

The evening had just begun, and Maximillian could not be happier for it. A tiny smile adorned his pale face, as his lilac-colored eyes regarded the new arrivals with eager anticipation. Oh, how long he had waited for this moment.

A sudden cough from the right made him turn his head, his gaze locking on to the lady that had just approached him.

"Ahh... Lady Harthway," Maximillian nodded. "How lovely it is to see your here this beautiful evening."

"Pleasure is all mine, Maximillian," the Lady responded, allowing him to take her hand and kiss it. "You know me; I never could resist a good party."

The Lady Amelia was a fine maiden from the high-ranking family of Harthway, and the oldest daughter to Lord Charles Harthway. She had long, raven-black hair that ran in intricate curls down to the small of her back, and a lithe and petite body, akin to a delicate sculpture that looked as if it would break at the slightest trace of wind. Stormy, grey eyes and rosy lips completed the image of a fairytale beauty, the likes of which could scarcely be found anywhere else.

She was also a vampire, and a tremendously powerful one at that. Despite her supple appearance, Maximillian knew she could easily take on two dozen men and win: her magical prowess and supernatural strength saw to that.

"Well, I am overjoyed that you chose to grace us with your presence here today," Maximillian responded, letting go of her hand to send her his warmest smile. He had always liked Amelia. She had a good head on her shoulders: highly skilled in the art of subterfuge and manipulation. A trait near and dear to his own heart.

"Oh, please. There's no need to be so formal, Maximillian. I think we've known each other long enough now to abandon such trivial nonsense."

"Maybe so," Maximillian acquiesced. Amelia was right: the two of them were indeed familiar. Intimately so, even.

"I take it there's a purpose behind the spectacle tonight?" she asked, leaning her elbows on the balcony railing next to him. "I highly doubt you'd put on such a show just for the fun of it, after all."

"You assume correctly, my Lady," Maximillian replied, shooting a quick glance back down into the courtyard. The guests were slowly being funneled into the main building, leaving the space outside empty, save for a couple of butlers running about. "There is indeed a reason behind our gathering here."

"Mind sharing said reason with me?" she inquired, an eyebrow raised in confusion. "Because I can hardly think of many for gathering so many vampires in one place."

"And ruin the surprise?" Maximillian smiled. "I don't think so, darling. You'll find out soon enough, anyway."

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that," she scoffed. "You know I hate surprises."

"Some new information has come to light regarding a certain individual. An individual of interest to the vampire community at large," Maximillian explained, deciding to give her at least a little bit to chew on. "I intend to share this information with everyone after dinner. And implore the High Court to take action."

"What kind of information are we talking about? And who is this mysterious individual?"

"Patience, my Lady. All will be explained in time."

"Oh, shut it. You're starting to sound like Albus Dumbledore with all this secret-keeping."

A chuckle escaped Maximillian's lips at her words.

"Not a bad man to imitate. He is, after all, the strongest wizard alive."

"True. But he is also an old fool who's long since lost his touch," Amelia retorted.

"Maybe," Maximillian shrugged. "But I still respect him as a fellow keeper of the peace."

"Hah! The only reason you love peace so much, is because it leaves you free to commit trickery and deceit at will," Amelia replied, turning to send him a cheeky wink.

"You are not wrong. But you like that about me."

"I suppose," she smiled. "Although, I can think of several things I like more about you than that."

"Oh? Like what?" Maximillian asked.

"Like your skills in bed," she responded nonchalantly, putting on a teasing grin. "Or the way you whisper my name when we're making love."

The look on her face, combined with her words, would have been enough to drive any man crazy. Thankfully, Maximillian was not just any man. He was the Head of the Tarwen family, and an esteemed member of the High Court. No woman could drive him from reason.

They could make him horny though, and Amelia's words had inspired a sudden rush of blood down to the lower regions of his body.

"Hmm..." he started, a playful smirk on his face. "You know, it's probably going to be a while before the guests settle down in the Dining Chamber…"

"Ahh…" Amelia breathed. "A terrible shame, really…"

"So, given the fact that we find ourselves with time to kill…"

"Yes…?"

"I thought I could perhaps offer the Lady a tour of the estate? More specifically, the bedrooms?"

"Hmm… That does sound like something I could be interested in, yes," Amelia responded, a hungry look flashing across her grey eyes.

"So be it, then," Maximillian nodded, extending his hand for her to take. "Now, if the good Lady would be so kind as to follow me…"

And so it was that the next 30 minutes of Maximillian's time were spent partaking in one of the finer things in life: shagging the brains out of a beautiful vampire lady.

The lavish Dining Chamber was abuzz with the sound of laughter and conversation. Outside, the sun had long since set, giving way to serene darkness that put everyone present at ease. From his seat at the head of the table, Maximillian kept a watchful eye on the party, regarding his fellow vampires with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. All around him, people were exchanging stories, anecdotes and information, only stopping to indulge themselves in the meal he had prepared: five young women, taken from a local community with the consent of their parents.

Upon arriving at the estate, the girls had all been washed and groomed, before being sedated and bound to the large dining table in a neat line. His guests were then free to drink from them at will; the only catch being that they were not allowed to consume so much blood that the girls would die of exsanguination. In order to avoid this, Maximillian had instructed his servants to feed the girls Blood-Replenishing Potions at regular intervals.

It was a mutually beneficial relationship; the girls and their families would be paid generously for their services, and the vampires would get to feed.

"Quite the party you've set up here," Amelia's voice sounded from the right. "Good food, too."

"I knew it would be to your taste," Maximillian nodded, not bothering to take his eyes off his guests as he spoke. "And they all seem to be enjoying it as well."

"Gotta get them nice and comfortable before you hit them with a bombshell of information, after all," Amelia continued, a pale hand coming forward to grab a cluster of grapes from a nearby plate.

"Naturally," Maximillian agreed. "Rule number two of business."

"Number two?" Amelia asked as she popped a grape into her mouth. "What's number one, then?"

"Always be the one capable of walking away from a deal," Maximillian explained, turning his head to send her a cheeky grin.

"Ahh…" Amelia breathed. "A good rule."

"My late father would agree."

"It served him well," she continued. "But enough small talk. Wouldn't you say it's about time you got on with your speech?"

"I suppose," Maximillian sighed. "But I am in no rush. I would gladly spend some more time conversing with you instead."

"Hah, nice try," Amelia smiled. "But flattery will get you nowhere. As it stands, my curiosity burns brighter than my sex drive."

"Only because we already took care of your sex drive an hour ago," Maximillian fired back, earning himself a light jab in the shoulder.

"Cheeky… but true," she nodded. "Now get on with it already. I'm tired of being kept in the dark."

"Alright," Maximillian replied with a resigned smirk, before rising from his seat. "Everyone! Your attention, please!"

The upbeat chatter gradually simmered away as more and more eyes turned his way, the atmosphere in the room shifting drastically. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Maximillian's mouth. He loved being the center of attention, especially when he had the advantage of knowing something the others didn't.

"First of all, I would like to take this opportunity to thank each and every one of you for showing up today. I know some of you might have had some reservations about coming here, but I hope that any such lingering doubt has been alleviated by now, after taking part in the festivities. The last thing I want is for you to leave this place feeling… unsatisfied, after all," he started, throwing his arms wide in a gesture of hospitality.

A round of appreciative nods and sounds ensued, before silence once more befell the crowd.

"Alas, as some of you may have already surmised, there is indeed an… ulterior motive to our gathering here today," Maximillian continued. "Some new information has come to light regarding a certain individual of interest to the High Court. And I believe it prudent to share said information."

Curious stares and suspicious looks filled the Dining Chamber, as Maximillian allowed his words to simmer a bit before he resumed speaking.

"This individual is known to most as… the Dark Lord."

Maximillian couldn't have wished for a better reaction. The entire room seemed to tense up at the mention of the name, as unbidden images of Voldemort and the First Wizarding War came to life in their minds.

"As most of you will undoubtedly be able to recall, we sided with the Dark Lord in the First War," Maximillian smiled. "A decision we have since paid dearly for, when the Dark Lord suddenly perished at the hands of the infant Harry Potter."

"Oh, spare us the history lesson, Maximillian," a gruff-looking vampire called Rahim said from the crowd. "We all remember what happened back then. There's no need to remind us."

"Fair enough," Maximillian acquiesced, nodding his head. "I shall cut to the chase then; I have reason to believe that the Dark Lord has returned."

A collective gasp went up from the crowd, as everyone's eyes widened in shock.

"No… There's no way…"

"He's joking, right?"

"The Dark Lord has been dead for well over a decade now…"

"I refuse to believe this…"

"Everyone, please…" Maximillian started, doing his best to regain control of the situation. "I know this might be difficult for you to process, but believe me when I say that I have no intention of lying to you. According to some very trustworthy sources, the Dark Lord has indeed returned, and is currently looking for allies."

"So… we should seek him out then," Rahim said, eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Engage in negotiations, and barter a deal."

"Absolutely not," Maximillian smiled, shaking his head.

Complete silence followed his words.

"What do you mean… absolutely not?"

"I mean precisely that," Maximillian continued. "Under no circumstances should we ally ourselves with the Dark Lord, and I'll tell you why; because he has betrayed us."

Confused looks were exchanged as Maximillian allowed his statement to hang in the air for a bit.

"Betrayed us?" someone eventually asked.

"Yes, betrayed us," Maximillian confirmed. "You see, according to my sources… the Dark Lord has been sacrificing Muggles, and drinking Wizard blood."

Yet another gasp went up from the crowd, as the implications behind his words became clear.

"It saddens me to tell you this, but…" Maximillian breathed. "The Dark Lord has found the Book of Vlad Țepeș, more commonly known… as Dracula."

"It cannot be…" Rahim exclaimed, shock present in his features. "The Book of Dracula has been lost for centuries! And its secrets have been forbidden from ever seeing the light of day! The Dark Lord surely knows this!"

"He does indeed," Maximillian continued. "But this has not stopped him from taking use of the Dark rituals described on its pages. The rampant sacrificing of Muggles, and the drinking of Wizard blood… These things all point to the same conclusion; that the Dark Lord has abandoned his humanity."

A moment of silence came and went, before Maximillian spoke up yet again.

"Naturally, such a grave violation of our rules cannot go unpunished. The Dark Lord has proven that he will betray anyone, even his own allies, if he believes it will benefit him. Therefore, it is only natural that we, in turn, also betray him, by going to his enemies. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all."

"What… What are you suggesting?" Rahim asked, confusion dripping from his words.

"Oh, I believe that should be quite obvious by now," Maximillian grinned. "We strike a deal with those who aim to tear down the Dark Lord. With the very people we once fought against. With Albus Dumbledore, and Harry James Potter."

Harry couldn't sleep. He had been trying his hardest for the past hour, but the sweet relief of darkness refused to take him. His mind was abuzz with a million thoughts, staving off the tiredness and keeping him awake. Not even the soft embrace of his bed did much to alleviate his troubles.

Letting out a sigh and turning his head to the side, Harry was surprised to find a pair of chocolate-colored eyes peering at him from the darkness. Glimmers of moonlight shining in through the window on the far wall illuminated the girl's features, making clear the tender expression on her face. The distance between them was so miniscule that he could feel her breath on his skin, and the warmth radiating from her body.

"Hey," she whispered, her lips curling up into a smile.

"Hey," Harry responded, twisting himself around to lay on his side, facing her. A moment of silence came and went as they stared into each other's eyes, lost in their own little dreamworld.

"Can't sleep?" Hermione finally said, readjusting her position on the pillow.

"Nope," Harry breathed. "Not a chance."

"Me neither," she sighed. "So much happened today that… I think I need a little time to just… process it all."

"Agreed," Harry replied with a grimace. "I still can't believe half the stuff I heard today, and yet… a part of me can't help but think that it's only going to get worse from here on out."

"It might," Hermione said. "I've been feeling the same way, lately. Like… there's a war brewing. And no matter what I do, I'm powerless to stop it."

Silence descended upon them yet again, and Hermione started running her fingers over the bedsheets, tracing invisible lines on the fabric. Harry watched her do so with rapt attention, content with merely savoring the moment.

"It's funny," Hermione suddenly said, her expression growing sentimental. "I still remember the feeling I had the first day we came here, to Hogwarts. It felt like I was stepping into a fairytale. A world of magic and wonder, where miracles not only came true, but could be controlled and performed at will. Like a beautiful, childlike dream."

A smile made its way onto Harry's face at her words. Her description brought forth memories he had not bothered to recall in many years. Of a younger Harry, sitting in a cramped boat on a star-filled night, eyes round with wonder and astonishment as the castle grounds gradually came into view. The world had seemed a smaller place back then. More black and white, with clear lines defining good and bad.

There is no such thing as Light or Dark Magic. Only power, and the intent that guides it.

The shopkeeper's words reverberated in Harry's mind, casting a grey sheen over his childhood memories.

"Of course, it was all the delusions of a foolish child who didn't know any better," Hermione sighed. "The wizarding world is not nearly as beautiful or wonderous as it looks from the outside. There is so much darkness, so much hate and malice present in it… I learned that the hard way, when Draco Malfoy started calling me a Mudblood."

A spark of anger flashed to life in Harry's chest at the mention of that name. Draco Malfoy and his family was a plague upon wizarding society, one that needed to be flushed out as quickly as possible.

"You can't let that idiot's words get to you, Hermione," Harry said, joining her in drawing shapes on the sheets. "It'll only serve to hurt you more."

"I know," she said, a sad smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "It's been years now since I cared about his insults."

"That's good to hear," Harry nodded. "You're the most brilliant witch I know. There is absolutely no reason for you to bother with the likes of Malfoy."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled. "I already knew that, of course, but it feels good to hear you say it."

"Well, I'll say it as many times as you want me to," Harry nodded.

"Aww, how sweet of you," Hermione chuckled. "I'll make sure to use that to my advantage then."

He quietly echoed her chuckle, before both of them shared a heartfelt yawn.

"What time is it anyway?" Harry asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Hermione stuck her hand over the side of the bed and retrieved her wand, before lazily flicking it over her head. An incorporeal clock-face appeared in the air above them, displaying the time. It read 02:46.

"Ahh damn, it really is late," Harry sighed, letting his eyes drift back down to Hermione.

"Yeah. But it's okay. We can survive a sleepless night. Merlin knows we've been through worse," Hermione smiled.

"True enough," Harry scoffed, before scooting just a bit closer to Hermione. His hand accidentally touched hers as he moved, and she took the opportunity to envelop it in a loving embrace, her fingers intertwining with his own. For a moment, neither said anything as they stared at the place of their joining, two hands folded as one.

"My life hasn't exactly been the easiest," Harry started, a strange emotion coming to life in his chest. "Between all the "Boy-Who-Lived" stuff and my, uhh… interesting childhood, I've been through quite a lot for a boy my age. And sometimes, it can feel like everything around me is in a perpetual state of chaos, always shifting and morphing into something else."

Hermione listened to him talk with bated breath, chocolate eyes regarding him with a mixture of concern and devotion.

"But throughout all of that, there has been one thing that has never changed. And that is you, Hermione."

A tiny sound leaked from her lips.

"You are the one constant that I have in my life. My anchor in a world of turmoil. My cornerstone," he finished, his voice cracking ever so slightly at the end. "And… And I love you so much for that."

"I love you too, Harry," she whispered, her words laden with emotion.

Nothing more was said between them then, as they both laid there in the darkness, staring into each other's eyes. Eventually, they moved closer to one another, and shared a tender kiss, one that set Harry's heart ablaze with happiness.

"Should we try to get some sleep?" he asked, shifting around to get into a more comfortable position.

"Sleep sounds nice," Hermione breathed in response. "Just, let me…"

Shuffling forwards, she snuggled up to his chest, before grabbing his right arm and placing it around her waist. Harry obediently followed her lead, a coy grin coloring his features.

"There we go," she finished, tilting her head up to send him a tired smile. "Now I'll be able to sleep."

"Ahh… Well, I think I prefer this sleeping position as well," Harry responded, letting his eyelids fall shut and tightening his grip around her lithe form. "Goodnight, Hermione."

"… Goodnight, Harry."

And just like that, the two fell silent, reveling in each other's warmth until sleep finally claimed them both.

A/N: So... quite a chapter, huh? If you're feeling confused about all of this vampire stuff, don't be worried; all will be explained in time. There's a lot of things happening behind the scenes in my rendition of the wizarding world, and this here is only the beginning of the grand worldbuilding plans I have for this story.

If you've somehow forgotten about Voldemort sacrificing Muggles, I advise you to re-read the end of chapter 11, "Winds of Trouble", in order to refresh your memory.

There's also quite a bit of Harry/Hermione fluff in this chapter. I don't particularly know why that happened, it just sorta did as I went along. I considered cutting the final scene, but I simply liked the raw and unfiltered nature of it too much, and so I hope you can forgive me the indulgence.

Also, we are fast approaching 1000 Follows, which is quite frankly insane. I'll do a longer A/N when we reach said milestone, so look forward to that. For now, I'd just like to thank all of you for reading this stupid story of mine.

More updates to come in the future. If you enjoyed the read, please consider dropping a review with your thoughts, and I'll see all of you lovely people again in the next chapter.

-Twisted