Last-chapter recap: The Harrys got their first hint of where to go next when a sinkhole between worlds formed to the southwest of Central Hyrule. Later, Harry and Link had a discussion that resulted in Harry being more honest with another person than he has in many years.

There's art for this chapter! I drew a couple of the presents that the Harrys receive in this installment, since at least one of them is going to be a frequently-used item. The illustrations can be found under the "dungeon 6" tag on the garden-eel-draws tumblr or in the Ao3 version of this chapter.

To Thunder Dragon: I'm sorry, but I really don't do fic requests. It's just not a kind of writing I want to do, and I don't see that changing at any point in the future. I would encourage you to write out that fic yourself, though, since it seems like you have a very clear idea of what you'd like to see!

Content warning for mentions of the neglect the Dursleys showed Harry and Harry's highly unreliable narration on the matter.


As soon as Harry had sprawled out on his hotel bed, Zelda's open book rattled on his nightstand. "What?" he whined into his pillow.

From sunrise until mid-afternoon, he'd practiced and practiced and practiced with his bow out in front of Link's house. He would have kept on going, but then Link had come home from his sister's forge on his lunch break, pried the weapon out of Harry's reddened and aching hands, and pushed him indoors to benefit from some food and an enchanted cold-stone to ease the inflammation. Then Link had put the targets away and frowned stonily at him until he'd agreed to get some rest. Harry was so sore he felt there ought to be a more severe word for it. He couldn't use a Red Potion to make it stop, either, since he'd accumulated this "injury" over the course of several hours and, even if he could magically heal it, the potion would just undo his hard work. Hylian healing potions were a reset button; they didn't let you build up muscle like good old-fashioned soreness and suffering did.

Yellow picked up the Hylian Bestiary and flipped to the back of it. "Sorry, Green's grumpy because he exercised too much," he said. "What did you want to say?" He paused to read the queen's answer, then gasped. "Oh my gosh, it is? I didn't even notice!" He looked up from the book. "Guys, it's Christmas today! Zelda said they're celebrating back at the castle. We almost missed it!"

"Christmas?" the other Harrys cried.

"We should get some presents lined up, huh?" Red remarked, sitting up on the couch. "Maybe we can stop by the castle for a drop-off and fly away before Dumbledore hits us with a Full Body-Bind."

Harry pried himself up from the lumpy mattress. "It's already the end of December?" he moaned. "Half the school year has gone by, and we've sorted out five dungeons. We have four more!" He buried his face in his hands.

"I vote for not working over Christmas vacation," Blue declared. "Lord knows we've earned the right to take a break, Green. You could stand to ease up with your exercise torture. It felt like you were giving our fingers death by a thousand cuts earlier."

"I'm doing this so you don't have to, Blue. Just be grateful and shhh." Harry flopped back on his bed and oozed into his covers. "Anyway, yay. Christmas. Whee."

"You don't want to go to the castle to celebrate with Ron and Hermione?" Yellow asked. "We haven't seen them in over a week! I'm sure they're missing us, and I'd like to hang out with someone who isn't a version of me or Malfoy."

"That does sound like a good way to go mad," Red agreed. "Question is, if the teachers try to tie us up, can we escape?"

"Worst case, we can jump out of a window and swim for the islands on the other side of the lake. From there, we could catch the train out of the basin," Blue said. "Since Ron and Hermione have fixed the issue of never-ending Skullfish and the Zoras have cleared out the other monsters, the hardest part would be crossing that distance."

Red winked at Harry. "Good thing we've got someone building up our endurance, huh?"

Harry burbled incoherently, halfway to sleep.

"Hmm." Blue took his magic bag off of his nightstand and dug through it. Taking out a green Stamina Potion, he downed the bottle.

Energy crashed into Harry's body like a bucket of water being thrown over him. He still felt like a lump of aches and pains, but now his physical exhaustion was gone. His brain was so tired, yet there was no way he'd be able to sleep now. "Augh, why?" he lamented. "I don't want to be up!"

"But we want you to be up," Blue said, grinning evilly, "and now you are."

"So can we go to the castle for the Christmas feast, or whatever they're doing while they have to ration food?" Yellow asked with pleading doe eyes. "We could see Ron and Hermione again and give them some cool stuff!"

"Oh, and we could drop Malfoy off," Red said. "With the lake back to normal, he won't have to worry as much about sleepwalking into it. I think he's just avoiding Snape and the other Slytherins at this point. He gets all twitchy if I mention going back."

True, Malfoy seemed to turn into a bundle of nerves whenever the topic of returning to Hogwarts came up. He was still skittish around Hyrule's non-magical citizens, but the fact that the Muggles around town could see through his illusion and yet treated him normally had been winning him over. Once he went back to the castle, he'd be surrounded by magical people who couldn't see through what glamour he had left, but would absolutely flip if they could. He'd have to face his classmates and Head of House eventually, though, and the holiday might convince him to do it.

"Fine, I guess we can go," Harry sighed. While he did want to see his friends again, he'd rather do it when he felt less like total crap. Ugh, he wished he'd known it was Christmas before he'd gone and done all that archery practice! The fact that it was summer in the Light World had made him completely lose track of the calendar. "If the teachers start looking shifty, though, we're getting out of there. I can't do combat training with Avoka if I'm stuck in Gryffindor Tower."

"Yay!" Yellow cheered. He bobbed in happy bunny bounces. "I'm going to give Ron two swords, and one of those gemstones we found! Maybe a ruby, to match his hair? Oh, and we should buy him some candy before we visit, like we promised."

"I've already bought a huge book of enchanting sheet-music for Hermione and one about potions for Fred and George," Blue said. "Hermione can have a few of the magic rocks I found and I'll offload some of our monster parts onto the twins."

"Before the shops close we could buy some extra candy, too, for everyone to pass around," Red said. "I'm sure it's been a while since anyone at the castle has gotten to eat any sweets."

Harry forced himself out of bed and started slowly, gingerly changing out of the tunic and trousers he'd worn to work out in. There was no movement that didn't pain him. Note to self: once the burning ache in his fingers and upper back turned to tingling numbness, it was time to consider turning in. If he cut himself on his bowstring, it was maybe a bad idea to magically half-heal the wound with his wand and then keep going. Had Avoka been around to supervise him today, the boy would have surely made him call it quits before Link had. It was just so hard for Harry to give up this chance to get stronger! He desperately wanted to catch up to where the previous bearers of Hyrule's magical swords had been, with all their combat training and muscles, and he was so far behind! He felt so frail and inadequate next to Link, who would have been absolutely perfect for the role that Harry had stumbled into. Link was so calm, mature, and strong for a kid their age, with a quiet surety in everything he did. He naturally had everything Harry was struggling to achieve.

'What a difference a family can make,' he thought bitterly. He still couldn't get over the fact that there was a version of him out there who had grown up with love and food and a room of his own. Link had even put posters up and everything! The big, buff blacksmith was a real nerd in the same vein as Ruka the Zora enchanter-in-training, as it turned out; he had a bunch of linguistics, music theory, and spell engineering books on his shelves and the posters on his walls were about various magic-science symposiums. He even had a vintage hiring advertisement for the Death Mountain Lightware Facility framed above one of his bookshelves.

Did it make Harry a bad person, envying someone like that? Link had been super nice to him and it wasn't like Harry felt entitled to being loved; he'd never demand that of anyone around him. He just thought that…well, it would have been nice to be in some of the family photos, or get a birthday party every now and then, or have someone around to pick him up and hug him when he'd been little. There were so many times he wished that someone could have told him that he wouldn't be in the cupboard forever, that he'd be okay one day—

Tears started stinging his eyes. Harry cut off that line of thought before it could get any worse. He was too worn down and emotionally wobbly to be going "woe is me". There was a good chance he'd think himself into a place too deep and dark for him to easily climb out of. Better to leave the moping for a time when it wouldn't make him cry. Or maybe never.

Because it wasn't like he was ungrateful, or anything. The Dursleys had gotten an unwanted infant dropped on their doorstep and absolutely no help in dealing with it. Everything Harry had worn, eaten, and used at school until age eleven had been money out of their pockets that they wouldn't have otherwise been forced to spend. He didn't like them and they didn't like him, but he was now old enough to understand why. They gave him the bare minimum because it wasn't really their job to care for a whole extra person, and he resented them because the bare minimum wasn't enough for him (and he was maybe a little ungrateful). It was a mutually justified balance of misery that there wasn't really any way to fix. Unless he started paying for his own things, maybe? Once this adventure was over, he might actually have enough money to do that, assuming Malfoy helped him get those gemstones sold and the Gringotts bankers were okay with converting Rupees to wizard and Muggle money. Paying for himself would be easier than convincing the adults around him to let him live on his own.

He took a moment to mentally center himself. Today was Christmas. It was time to think about his friends, not his relatives. For the last two years, Christmas had been a happy day instead of one when he had to cook all sorts of fancy foods he wouldn't get to eat and then sit alone in his cupboard with a ham sandwich for dinner. His friends were going to be sad that they wouldn't get to be with their families this year or receive gifts from them, so he ought to cheer them up! He was used to this kind of thing, which meant he'd be the only one who wasn't feeling down about it.

A thought snuck up on him. 'If people in the Light World had Christmas, I bet Link's family would get him presents.'

Harry seized that idea, strangled it, and fired it out an imaginary airlock. No. Bad enough he'd grown up fantasizing about taking Dudley's place in the middle of the family Christmas party, surrounded by presents and smiles. Link didn't deserve to have Harry aiming freak thoughts toward him, too.

He heard a quiet chuckle in his ears. "What do you think your relatives got you this year? Fifty pence? An old rag?" his own voice purred. "That offer to teach them humility with my shadow magic is still on the table, you know. Just give me the word."

"Get out of my head," Harry growled lowly. His brothers were happy for the holiday and didn't want this nuisance ruining their mood.

"I can't hear your thoughts, just sense your feelings. And I'm only speaking to you through the shade in your ears," Shadow Harry clarified, as if that were the issue here. "I've seen what your Christmases were like before you went to Hogwarts. You're right to be angry! That resentment is justified. It's not fair, how your relatives have been toward you."

Well, now Harry knew he was being irrational. Anything that the dark spirit agreed with had to be wrong. He shook his head and started pulling on his boots. "Stop lying and go away," he muttered. "I won't be buttered up."

"I'm not lying, Hero. You deserve to feel the way you do toward your relatives. They've earned your ire. More than that, even. The Dursleys neglected and mistreated their poor, orphaned nephew—their own flesh and blood!—as they spoiled that brat of theirs beyond belief. And for what, because you're magic? Because of something you were born with and can't change? Imagine how you would feel if you saw them treat anyone else like they treat you," Shadow Harry said. "What if Ron had to live in the cupboard under the stairs when there was a perfectly good spare room? What if Hermione had to weed the garden and paint the fence and wash and hang all the laundry before she could have lunch and supper?"

Harry dug his nails into his palms. Shadow Harry shouldn't have sounded so right! Something had to be seriously wrong here, because there was no way the creature who'd recently lit a Bomb Shop on fire for fun could have a good point. "I can deal with that. I'm used to it. Ron and Hermione aren't."

"You shouldn't need to be used to it, and you have every right to make your so-called family pay. I get what you're going through and my door is still open, is all I'm saying. Oh, and happy Christmas." As the spirit's presence faded, various objects rose out of shadows around the room.

In front of Harry lay three leather-bound journals—two worn, one new. Beside the couch that Red sat on, a sword and shield appeared. The sword's blade was red-hot, the cross-guard shaped like dark curls of smoke. The shield, meanwhile, was a smaller version of their buckler made of burnished stala instead of dull steel. Blue wound up with a green book similar in size to the Hylian Bestiary sitting in his lap, while Yellow watched with curiosity as a neatly folded piece of purple clothing showed up at his feet.

"Erm…What just happened?" Blue asked, looking around. He lifted up the book to look under it.

"Who cares? Fire sword!" Red hopped off of the couch and snatched up the equipment sitting on the floor. He gave the sword a few experimental swings that left shimmering waves of flame in the wake of the glowing blade. Then he put on the shield and gasped, "It's made for punching." He shadow-boxed the air, punctuated with a sword swing that came close to setting the couch on fire. Faint curls of smoke rose up in warning. "It's PERFECT!" he roared.

"The presents are from Shadow Harry," Harry told Blue. "I guess he was feeling nice today." And in the mood for messing with Harry's head again, but his brothers didn't need to know that. Harry didn't much want to think about how genuinely tempting the spirit's offer had sounded this time.

"Ooh, presents from Shadow? I wouldn't have expected that." Yellow leaned down and picked up the purple clothing, which unfolded into an ankle-length hooded cloak with accents in gold thread. He held the cloak up and stretched out sections of it curiously. "Wait, are these…?" Yellow held up the hood. "Bunny ears! Yes!" He giggled with glee and swung it over his shoulders, flipping up the hood before he'd fastened the garment around his neck. "Bun-bun-bunny cloak!" he sang, hopping around. The ears bobbled merrily. On one jump, Yellow bounced half a meter into the air. He landed in a crouch, wide-eyed. "Oh. Bunny cloak."

Blue lifted the big green book off of his lap and flipped through it. "What is this? A bestiary? And then…a language key? For, er, what language is this?" He dipped his nose closer to the book and turned back a few blocks of pages. Realization dawned on his face as he went from section to section with growing excitement. "It's an even older bestiary than Zelda's!" he proclaimed. "Who wrote this? When?" He dumped all the pages down and hungrily scanned the inside cover.

Harry turned his head to give the front title a read. Whatever kind of Hylian it was written in, it still looked like English to him. "Does 'Book of Mudora' mean anything to you?" he asked.

The Hylian Bestiary, currently set open on his nightstand, gave the most violent shake Harry had ever seen from it. He leaned over to see that Zelda had screamed in large and jagged letters, "THE BOOK OF MUDORA?!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. The old queen was usually quite reserved in her writing. It took a lot to get her this excited. "So you've heard of it?" he said. "Is it a history book like yours?"

"It's one of the most academically valuable texts in Hylian history! It was rumored to contain some of the only surviving accounts of the LAND OF THE SKY! I have no idea how the Shadow of Hyrule got ahold of it, but Hylia bless him. I would have cut off my own arm to find that book." The words spilled across the page with frantic speed, some of them wandering off the lines. He could practically see the woman foaming at the mouth. "Please-please-please let me read it."

"Zelda says that book is super-duper important, and also she'd like to read it," Harry passed along. "Or maybe have it read to her. Can you even turn another book's pages, Zelda?"

"I will find a way, if I have to."

"I'll need help figuring out this text anyway," Blue said, squinting at the pages. "Part of it seems to be a translation key between Old Hylian and what I think is an even older Hylian." Blue smirked. "Hermione is absolutely going to flip her lid when she sees this. And I don't have to share unless I want to because it's my Christmas present!" He laughed gleefully. "Mine!"

Well, if his brothers' gifts were that good, Harry wondered what his could be. He picked up the fancier-looking of the journals. It was bound in reddish brown leather with a reinforced spine and metal studs. Some kind of scarlet swirly symbol was pressed into the front cover. He scanned the first page, which was penned in adorably terrible scrawl:

Saria got me this jernal to put my feelings in becus I punched Mido for being mean and vilens is bad. I guess writing is saposed to make me feel beter? If your reading this Saria then Mido is a jerk and he daserved it! If hes not mean first I won't be mean back. Its not my falt I don't have a fairy yet! Mido keeps picking on me and thats meaner than me hitting him one time!

He frowned, a sense of familiarity buzzing at the back of his mind. That name, "Saria"…Turning over a section of pages, he came across writing that was better-spelled and somewhat neater, but clearly done in less happy times. Ink blots and tear spots marred the shakily-written entry:

Oh no. Oh goddesses. What did I do? So many people are gone. Hyrule is so empty. So wrong. Castle Town is full of ReDeads and I don't know where the survivors have gone, if there even are any. It doesn't seem like there are enough ReDeads to account for everyone, so I'm holding onto hope. I have to, or I might lose my mind to grief.

I only wanted to help! Why was I sealed away? Why was HE allowed into the Sacred Realm while I was put to sleep for SEVEN YEARS? This should never have happened!

I have my mission, but the world is so dark. If something goes wrong and I accidentally make things worse again, what might happen the next time?

Harry's eyes bugged out as recognition rang through him, clear as a bell. Had this been written by the Hero of Time?! He flipped through more pages. Images flashed in his mind of various monsters. A horrible bug-thing, a fiery serpentine dragon, a shadowy ghost that looked like it had been fashioned from a massive stitched-together corpse—Link had written about all of it here, in his simple and somewhat wandering way. His journal showed what the illustrations and articles in the Hylian Bestiary had glossed over: the boy had been nine going on sixteen. He'd spent half his childhood locked in some kind of training sleep that had filled his head with what he'd needed to know and given him a body big and strong enough to help him save the world, but it hadn't forced all of his mind to catch up with the time-skip at once.

He set the journal down, shaken. The legendary Hero of Time, whom the Hylian Bestiary gushed about at length, had been younger than him. He'd already known that, but hadn't thought too hard about it. Poor kid. If anyone had been put through the wringer in Hyrule's long history, it was him.

What on earth could the other worn journal be about, then? He picked it up the plainer book cautiously and flipped through it to a random page:

Sea Log. Day 642 643 (Thank you, Tetra) in the Northern Sea

Man, it's cold out here. There were snow flurries at sea! I didn't even know that could happen! The farther north we go, the more afraid I am that the whole world will become like Ice Ring Isle. Brr.

In other news, I think we've made some new friends? We ran into some skeleton pirates this morning. They're not Stalfoses this time, interestingly enough. Tried to rob us at first, and then Tetra swung over to the other ship and started chucking their crew's skulls into the ocean, so they gave up real quick. After they fished everyone's heads up, the skeleton pirates sent a few of their crew over to ask who the hell we are and where we came from. The accents on these guys! Thick as ChuChu jelly and just as strange. They've never seen anyone else sailing around this far south, they said. South! Just how far beyond the archipelago does the Great Sea go?

Anyway, they're from this collection of islands called Holodrum, to the southwest of the "Quiet Continent". A big war went on for a while in that mysterious land and the people over in Holodrum think that all (but it's probably just most, because I mean, everyone? Pretty unbelievable) of the inhabitants got wiped out. Thus the nickname. All that violent death means a lot of monsters haunt the place, so the Piratian (the skeleton guys) don't like to sail too close. Tetra is over the moon. If no one's left alive, she says, she's going to pick up where they left off. Even if it turns out just to be another island and not somewhere big enough for a new Hyrule, I'll be glad to be on solid ground again. Land is so close! First chance I get, I'm cracking open a coconut and eating it like an absolute animal.

Harry stared at the entry, his sword apparently having nothing to say about it. Why did the name "Tetra" sound like something he'd heard before? It must have been someone born after the Great Flood…Oh! He knew whose journal this was!

"The Hero of Winds," he murmured thoughtfully, looking at more entries. Shadow Harry had done something to the book to make it longer than it first appeared; like the Hero of Time's journal and Zelda's section of the Hylian Bestiary, more pages existed than should have been able to fit. This incarnation of Link had dutifully kept an entry for most days of his many years at sea, from his initial journey to save his little sister to founding of New Hyrule, even if all he'd had to say was "Sunny and calm". He had been more of a natural journal-keeper than his predecessor, with a knack for description and artistic skills he'd put toward drawing the sea birds, marine creatures, unusual monsters, and people he came across.

The new-looking diary of the three was, indeed, perfectly new. Its empty pages were made of wizarding parchment, but lined like the Muggle notebook paper Harry had grown up with. Shadow Harry's message was clear: what will you write during your adventure, Hero?

Harry turned the blank book over in his hands. Even if he didn't consider himself on the same level as the Hero of Time or one of the founders of New Hyrule, he supposed it was worth keeping a record of things.


Ron and his siblings sat playing Gobstones. The match was silent but for the clack of game pieces. They'd all agreed that the atmosphere in the Common Room was too miserable, and after several morose matches of Paper Scissors Rock, they'd shuffled off to the third-year boys' dorm. Percy sat on Ron's bed, too stuffy to join the game, but not so stuffy that he'd ignore the rest of his family.

It was a Christmas with only half of them there. No letters or presents from their older siblings or parents. No holiday fudge, nor yearly sweaters. Ron was sure their mother would have made them all the same. She knitted when she was stressed, so she'd probably made scarves and mittens to match if there was enough money to spare for the yarn.

The rest of their family had no way of knowing whether they were even alive. From the Dark World side of the Veil, it would have appeared as though Hogwarts and Hogsmeade had vanished into the ether. A part of Ron itched to steal a broom, fly over to the Harrys, and have all of them hop on a train so he could have his friends show him the way to the portal by Outset Isle. He'd been away at school for the holidays before, but he'd never felt so isolated from the older members of his family. They'd always been able to send letters, at least!

There was a knock at the window. For one absurd moment, he wondered whether Errol had come with the post after all. Then he remembered that everyone's owls had been sitting around uselessly in the castle's roost for weeks.

Ginny was the first to hop up and investigate. Ron scrambled to follow. For all Ginny knew, she could be opening the door to a Wizzrobe!

His sister unlatched the window, pulled it open, and went red in the face. Ron peered over her shoulder, already having an inkling about who was outside. He beamed up at their visitors. "Harry!" he exclaimed.

His friend hovered outside the window on his Nimbus 2000 with his brothers clustered around him. They all looked healthy and whole, sporting color-coded Hylian tunics and wide grins. "We come bearing gifts!" Red announced.

Blue flicked his hand to shoo Ron and Ginny. "Now back up so we can fly in without bowling you over."

Ron stepped aside, towing his star-struck sister with him. The Harrys went through the window one by one and set down neatly by their beds. Harry turned around to fall onto his, breathing a contented sigh. "So nice…If only I could sleep." He shot a glare at Blue.

"Don't blame me for your workaholic attitude. I did you a favor, waking you back up," Blue sniffed. "Besides, we aren't sticking around long enough to stay the night, remember? That was your plan."

Harry groaned and sat up. "I know, I know." He pulled his shoulder bag into his lap and started taking things out of it, laying them out on his bed. His brothers followed suit.

Fred and George hovered by Blue's bed, their eyes sparkling with delight as more and more macabre bits and bobs were set out on the covers. Percy hopped off of Ron's bed, straightened out his robes with a huff, and stood by the abandoned Gobstones game like a prim fencepost as he tried not to look interested in the proceedings. Ginny hovered by Ron's elbow, her eyes darting between the Harrys like she wasn't sure which one to watch.

Ron leaned over the foot of Harry's bed. "What do you mean, you can't stay the night?" he asked, disappointed. Harry had been away from the castle for ten days now and, well, Ron missed seeing his buddy. During the school year, they saw each other every day, and with his connections with half his family cut, the ties he had here in Hyrule were that much more important.

"Professor McGonagall still keeps calling to ask us to come back," Yellow said. "I feel bad every time we have to tell her 'no', because she sounds super worried, but it really seems like the professors still aren't getting it."

"There's some kind of hole in the Veil over in the southwest part of the mainland," Harry said. "We don't know the specifics about it, other than the thing being a lot less stable than a portal and getting bigger, but we figure it's not something to let sit around and get worse while Dumbledore ties us down here."

"Yeah, 'unraveling' can't be good," Red agreed. "While we're stuck waiting around for more info to roll in, we figure we might as well use the time to get better at Muggle weapons. Can't do archery practice indoors. At least, not without a teacher grounding us forever."

"Improving our spellcasting will come later, once the professors unclench just a tad. Professor Lupin would probably be easy to convince to help us, but I'm sure the rest of the staff is waiting to pounce on us with 'safety measures' right now," Blue said. "Hopefully they'll have their heads on straight by the time we've sorted out this sinkhole in reality, because I'd really like to have some help with a shielding spell." He scooched the items in front of him into different piles. "Alright, it's gift time! Where is Hermione? I have her presents."

"I'll go get her!" Ginny said in a rush. She tripped over her own feet scurrying out of the room.

"She's always so nervous," Yellow remarked. He leaned over to peer through the doorway.

Ron exchanged a look with his twin brothers. Either Ginny was going to work up the courage to say something about it or she'd get over it, but that day wouldn't be today.

"Harry, you can't just fly in and fly off," Percy said sternly. "If you're going to insist on breaking the rules, you should at least tell the teachers why and how. Poor Professor McGonagall has been a wreck since you left. Don't you understand how terrifying it is not to have everyone accounted for in a place like this? You're greatly underestimating the danger of this strange country. We've had lizards as tall as Professor Snape patrolling the front gate for weeks!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Percy, Harry just came back from fighting a volcano and winning," he said. "I think he knows how dangerous Hyrule can be."

"Weirdly enough, that's kind of literal, because Endraal represents a volcano and we managed to knock her out," Yellow said. "Hey Ron, come over here! I've got your stuff."

"Presents!" Ron bustled past his miffed older brother. "What did I get?"

Yellow had set out two dual-edged straight swords, a small pile of sweets consisting of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Cauldron Cakes and unfamiliar spherical sweets wrapped in striped paper, and a chunk of red crystals half the size of Ron's head. "Sorry, there was no chocolate left at Honeydukes and they can't make more right now," Yellow said. "Chocolate doesn't exist in Hyrule. Some of the other Honeydukes candies have had to change, too, because of what they've got to work with. The bubblegum is Wildberry flavor here, not crazyberry."

It sucked that Ron would be denied fudge and chocolate until he made it home, but candy was candy. The castle was currently rationing its sugar, so desserts had been off the table at mealtimes for a while now. "Still, this is really cool! I wasn't expecting any presents today at all, to be honest," he said. "What's that rock, by the way? Another kind of candy?" The crystals were like blood spun solid. The depth of their color was enough for them to look like actual ruby. There was no way gemstones this big were genuine, though.

Yellow beamed. "It's a ruby I found!"

"It's a…That's a…" Ron snatched it up and stared at the rock as closely as he could without it stabbing him in the eyes. "This is real?!" He held it up to admire the crystals in the light.

His friend wiggled delightedly at his reaction, causing the bunny ears sticking up from his purple hood to bobble. "Yes! It's absolutely bonkers, isn't it?" he gushed. "Gemstones this big are considered practically normal here. We sold some of our rocks to buy Hylian candy for everyone, since we can always go back to Death Mountain to mine for more. A ruby goes for only two-hundred fifty Rupees! That's, like, four Galleons!"

Ron held up the ruby with reverence, hardly able to imagine ever selling it. Someone could fashion jewelry for the whole Weasley family out of a rock this big! "This would sell for hundreds back home. It's really worth that little here?"

"There really isn't anything in Hyrule that's super expensive, gemstones included. No million-Rupee yachts or five-thousand Rupee wine. Erm, not that they have wine here—no grapes. The most I've seen something cost is twelve-hundred Rupees, and that was a Sheikah Slate with all the bells and whistles."

A pajama-clad Hermione appeared in the doorway, yawning and pushing her bushier-than-usual hair out of her face. "I was going to sleep through the holiday, since I need to catch up and everyone's miserable anyway," she said as she walked in. Ginny silently trailed in after her. "Blue got something for me?"

"I gave up making a lot of money for you and the twins, so you'd better appreciate it," Blue said. "Fred and George, you get the monster parts and Potions book. Hermione, you get the rocks and enchanting book."

"Ooh, project materials?" Hermione hopped over the Gobstones game and eagerly crowded next to the twins. "What rocks are these?" she asked, picking one up. There were two lumps of dark, opaque gray-green crystal, two knobs of amber, and a cluster of brilliant blue sapphire. "It's the color of slate, but the growth pattern is like flint."

"It's something called Luminous Stone. If the room were dark, you'd see it glow," Blue told her. "Zelda said she's never heard of it being used for a Magic Rod, but it's associated with night, the moon, and wayfinding. Make of that what you will. The amber is pretty magically generalized, but it leans toward defensive properties. Sapphire relates mainly to ice, and kind of to water in general. If you don't want to use the rocks for Magic Rods, they can be incorporated into clothes and such, too. Gemstones aren't the same as Bluestone—they don't hold a magical charge and can't work as spell nodes—but they strengthen enchantments that match their specialties." Turning to the twins, he said, "Okay, so most monster parts do about the same thing in a potion: serve as a magical catalyst to make the potion happen and extend how long the potion works for. The ones with elemental properties, though, will either protect against themselves, in the case of electricity and fire-proofing, or their opposite." He picked up a Red Lizalfos tail. "Consider this. It's red, right? Related to fire, by the Hylian magic system. We took it off of a fire-breathing Lizalfos."

"And it protects against ice?" George said, following the line of logic.

"More like 'icy temperatures', but yes," Blue said. "If I had any parts from ice monsters, they'd do the same against high heat—not volcanic heat, but definitely desert temperatures. Potions here are less like liquid spells and more like temporary versions of Hylian enchantments that you can use on yourself. Since the magic here is positive by default, they all do something to improve or protect."

Fred started perusing the potions book. "Hmm, let's see whether we can change that."

George nodded determinedly. "There's got to be some way to add some mischief in there."

"Well, Green's combat teacher says he enchants potions as a hobby, so I bet you can combine the two styles of magic and tweak the outcome. Let us know through the Hylian Bestiary if you need any ingredients for your experiments." Blue leaned forward with a conspiratorial air. "How about we source your ingredients and you give us potions we can use in the field? If you need test subjects for the ones you're more worried about, we can always dump them in a monster's mouth and see what happens. Bokoblins are about the size of a human adult."

The twins grinned in a way that promised trouble to follow. It sent a shiver through Ron as he finished stowing his presents in his trunk.

"Just be glad he didn't give them bombs," Harry told him in a low voice. "Because we have those."

"All four of you?" Ron's eyes darted toward Blue, then settled on Red.

"If I could have avoided it, I would've," Harry sighed. "Unfortunately, once the Bomb Shop in Castle Town is finished being rebuilt, you can just buy them. Even if we hadn't found a Bomb Bag in Death Mountain, Blue would have gotten his hands on one anyway, and then Red would have bought one after Blue bragged about it to make him jealous."

"Your brothers are kind of a handful, aren't they?" Ron said sympathetically. He knew what it was like to have a whole bunch of siblings running around, talking over him, and sometimes running over him. It was a lot less weird when those siblings weren't all facets of your personality in human form. Ron didn't want to know what certain parts of himself would look like as separate people.

"The Four Sword has been helping. Mind-controlling me a little into being better at managing them. If the changes stick around after this year, I'll be a herding dog with no sheep!" Harry gave a mirthless laugh. "The more time I spend around Link, the more I wonder what it would have been like if he'd found the sword instead of me. He's just so…together. It feels like he already knows himself so well! He'd be so much better than me at this." He sighed and rubbed at his temples.

"Harry." Ron dropped onto his friend's bed, making the candy he'd laid out on it rustle. Presumably, all those multicolored but otherwise identical sweets were for the other people in the tower, although Ron was tempted to go to town on them himself. He fixed Harry with a steady look that his friend avoided. "You're more than halfway through beating Vaati. Five puzzle-boxes down, four to go! You've got this handled, mate."

"You haven't seen Link," Harry mumbled into his palms. "He wouldn't have been struggling just to figure out a sword. It's a sharp stick! I've been practicing for weeks, and I'm only now learning how to get my stances solid."

"Yeah, but think about it like this: you slayed a building-sized, three-headed, hurricane-breathing dragon."

"But only because—"

"Shh, just listen." Ron met his friend's look of surprise with a steady stare. "You beat it. Doesn't matter how. It was you in that volcano, not Link. So what if you didn't, I dunno, stab it in the legs until it fell over or run up underneath and try to gut it? You're not one of those Light World blokes. You're a wizard. Muggle-raised, whatever, you're still magic. It doesn't matter if you're not as big and strong as Link, or as good with a sword as the Hero of Time. Can they pick up houses just using their magic? Can they turn lava into furry beanbags or send monsters flying across a room? No. You have what you're good at and they've got what they're good at. I mean, imagine if I beat myself up for being worse at Potions than Fred and George, or less homework-obsessed than Percy. We're different people! You aren't Link, and this Link isn't the Hero of Time, and the Hero of Time was probably just some kid who didn't mean to get famous, anyway."

"Shadow Harry gave me that guy's journal. He really was just a kid," Harry admitted.

"Well, there you have it," Ron declared. "The Heroes of Hyrule didn't start out famous, and I doubt they got there by being perfect. Whatever you think Link is like, I bet he'd point out all kinds of problems with himself just like you're doing right now."

Harry shrank a little. "Yeah, he's done that. I just kind of…didn't believe it?"

"Then maybe you should start living back at the castle just so Hermione and I can remind you you're good at things. All this Hylian stuff has been messing with your head. I mean, you're a third-year wizard doing his best to turn into a Muggle swordsman, and you're losing it because you haven't gotten to be a knight within a couple of months? It's like calling yourself a loser for not being able to pull off a Wronski Feint on your first go! Just plain barmy."

That got a sheepish blush out of Harry. "I guess it does sound a bit mad when you put it that way."

The moment was made cold by an unsettling silence that seized the room. Ron tensed, his hand going for the Hylian shield he wasn't currently wearing. Dammit, he wished he had that thing on his summoning list!

Professor Dumbledore stood in the doorway. He had a pleasant look on his face and was dressed in green robes decorated with popping red Christmas crackers, but Ron's hackles rose at the sight of him standing in the same room as the Harrys. The man had been desperate to get his "missing" students back, shoving around Hermione with his authority until she'd broken down and given him their Gossip Stone. He wasn't to be trusted.

The Harrys got up from their beds. Green's face had gone hard, all traces of vulnerability gone. "If you're going to try to trap us here, we'll find a way back out," he told Dumbledore. "Reality is unraveling somewhere in Hyrule because of something Vaati's done on our side of the Veil. If we don't stop it, there's no telling what might happen."

"If you tell us how we may solve this, then I will handle the situation personally," Dumbledore said gravely.

The words would have been reassuring last year, or even at an earlier point during that semester. The Headmaster of Hogwarts himself, world-renowned magical expert, personally handling your problem? It would have sounded like a dream. Now, though, they were in a world where just plain magic wasn't enough. In Hyrule, you had to risk your life to find weapons and spells that would actually be effective the dangers threatening the kingdom. Sure, Dumbledore could fling Bokoblins, and maybe Moblins, safely away from him, but what about multiple monsters with long-range weapons? He couldn't always pick all of them off fast enough. What about a monster powerful enough to be immune to even to Dark World magic funneled through a Magic Rod? The professor would be dead meat, then. This wasn't a world where a wizard could fight evil without major adaptation, and the only change Dumbledore had made was switching to a Hylian staff.

Blue shook his head. "You still don't get it," he declared. "This isn't our world! Kids here have jobs, a nine-year-old is one of their most famous historical figures, and they sell adventuring equipment and armor in children's sizes! This isn't magical Britain and if you keep trying to act like it is, you're going to let a madman end the world."

"If you lock us up, we're going to make our own door," Red growled. He conjured a massive red and bronze hammer into his hands. Like they'd said through Zelda, the head was recognizably dragon-ish. "We can summon this anywhere and it's rocket-powered. If it isn't enough to knock a wall down, I bet a few bombs will do. We're not going to let you make us sit around being useless again."

"Harry, there is no need for threats," Dumbledore said, disappointment heavy in his voice. "I only wish to keep you safe. There are people who can take care of this in your stead."

Blue sneered. "Oh, you mean like how someone else could have heard the Basilisk in the castle's plumbing?"

"I know it's scary to let us go, Professor, but you have to," Yellow said gently. "We've got the sword that breaks Vaati's spells and you don't. Green has been doing all kinds of weapon practice and we all have experience in fighting monsters. The professors don't. If you and the teachers start learning about how Hyrule works and listening when students tell you things, then maybe we'll come back, but for now, we can't trust you. The fact that you want the world to end while we sit here is dangerous, Professor. Thank you for offering to do things for us, but it's not what we need."

"So, are you going to let us get back to our hotel room or are we going to have to blow the doors off of a cell later, sir?" Green asked. "You haven't been giving us a choice, so now we're giving you one."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed in worry. "What has happened to you, Harry? You never would have said things like this before."

'He's not wrong,' Ron thought with begrudging agreement. Harry had broken the rules before to do the right thing, but he'd never done it right in front of an adult's face like this. His friend was more willful now, harder to push around.

"I know," Harry ground out. "Times have changed. Now, I'll ask again: are you going to let us deal with the black hole in the Veil, or will we have to fight you on our way to fix the problem?"

A silence stretched out between the Harrys and the Headmaster. Percy looked scandalized, clutching at the collar of his robes, but seemed to have the sense to keep his mouth shut. Fred and George observed with surprise and awe, their eyebrows by their hairlines. Ginny's mouth had fallen open as she'd watched the conversation like a tennis match.

Ron could see the gears turning behind the Headmaster's half-moon spectacles. The man was playing a game of chess in his head, planning out moves and seeing outcomes. It was a familiar look to Ron. If Harry was successfully captured and contained, then what? He was clearly not going to cooperate until he was allowed to complete his mission. To contain him would require extreme measures that would only turn the Harrys (and their allies) into Dumbledore's enemies. Sure, there wasn't much to fear from a multiplied thirteen-year-old, but Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived and Ron was sure that Dumbledore needed him for something. Dumbledore was one of the greatest enemies of You-Know-Who, Harry being the other one. If the last two years were anything to go by, the homicidal cult-leader would be back to take another swing at Harry as soon as Vaati had finished his turn at bat.

Dumbledore sighed. "I will allow you go leave, but first, if I may, an entreaty?" His blue eyes were tired and old, with none of their usual sprightly sparkle. "Please, once you've done what you feel you must, could you do an old man's heart a favor and return to the castle?"

Green raised his chin. "Will you keep us grounded here if we do? We'll still have to leave for weapons training and stocking up on supplies, even if we aren't going to the next dungeon."

"I will inform everyone that you are to be allowed out," Dumbledore said. It looked like speaking the words sucked some of the life out of him. "Please, Harry, stay safe."

"We'll do our best," Harry replied. He took his broom out of his bag. "For now, we're staying out so we can patch up that hole and maybe find something to improve our sword while we're at it."

Yellow turned to Ron. "Make sure everybody gets some honey candy, okay? I think we got enough for the whole tower," he said, taking out his Nimbus 2000 from his bag. "Bye, everyone! I hope we see you soon!"

"Oh and give Ron and Hermione the Gossip Stone back, will you?" Blue gave Dumbledore an annoyed look as he mounted his broom. "Until Zelda tells us you've returned it, we're not picking up our calls. Borrow it if you need to, but fly to Castle Town and get your own if you want one. You'll be able to call ours and anyone else's through a Gossip Booth if you do."

Red touched off the ground. "Don't be mean to Malfoy, either, Professor! We kidnapped him all on our own! No need to punish him for us being idiots."

"M-Mister Malfoy?" Dumbledore stammered in surprise.

"Yes, he's back. If you want to learn something about this place instead of wallow around worrying about how dangerous everything is, maybe listen to him," Blue said. "He's also worked something out with the royal family here, so you should expect visitors sometime soon. Maybe a construction crew, too, now that the lake isn't full of Skullfish."

The Harrys mounted their brooms and flew out the window one by one, waving to Ron and Hermione as they passed, and then they were lost to the moonless night.


Draco stood down the hall from the temporary Slytherin dorm, far enough that the Prefect standing outside it hadn't noticed him. He ducked around a corner and leaned against the wall. Why was his heart beating so fast? Why did he feel so nervous about this? He had a face full of enchanted, human-complexioned make-up and an expensive set of subtly mirrored dark green shades that were as easy to see through as the Lenses of Truth from his end and impossible to remove unless he willed it. A scarf of wonderfully soft gray linen hid his neck, just in case. His glamour seemed to have hit a plateau in its inadequacy, so long as he didn't let his health dip like it had on Death Mountain, but he didn't trust it.

He dug his claws into his arms through his sleeves as he fought to calm himself. These were his fellow Slytherins. Even if he was no longer a pureblood (and had apparently never been), he was accepted among them. They were his peers, as far as they knew. He should feel comfortable in their presence.

Why did he want to flee back to Castle Town? It was full of Muggles! The only proper mages they'd had there before Hogsmeade had been displaced were a total of two witches. And yet in the last several days, it had come to feel normal, stepping out of the inn wearing only some shade of lip rouge and no scarf or glasses. The Light World Muggles could all see right through the partial illusion cast by his Dark World magic, so there was no point in putting on foundation that clearly didn't match the un-glamoured color of the rest of him. To them, he'd just been an unusual cross of two ordinary races of people. His coloring hadn't drawn any odd looks, nor had his pink hair or gills. The only comments on his half-breed status that he'd gotten were from a cobbler, who'd advised against him wearing tabi socks or Sheikah sandals if he had webbed toes, and a salesman at the candy store, who'd suggested he try some of the dried fish snacks they sold. Those snacks had been good, too!

Now that he was among his own people, he felt afraid. His parents had taught him exactly the kind of treatment he would get if his classmates learned the truth. There was nothing for it, though. If he was to be shipped off to Durmstrang at the end of all this, then his hours at Hogwarts were numbered and precious. It wouldn't do for him to spend that time holed up among Muggles out of cowardice.

Draco gathered himself up, stepped out into the main hall, and strode toward the dorms. The Prefect on duty was Cassius Warrington. He had no idea how the giant dimwit had wound up with that rank, but he supposed it was better than Flint being given such a position. The Quidditch captain was capable and admirably ruthless on the pitch, but not exactly someone who ought to be given any kind of authority over the general student body.

"Malfoy?" Warrington exclaimed when Draco walked up. "Where've you been for the last ten days? Professor Snape's been going absolutely spare!"

"The Potters kidnapped me. I just made the most of it while I was out," Draco said. "What has gone on in my absence?"

"To be honest, everyone kinda thought you wigged out and ran off after the whole Sirius-Black-is-Dog thing. Some of us even wondered if you'd finally keeled over, what with how sick you've been lately," the Prefect said. He peered down more closely at Draco. "You look a little better, but, er, that sore throat isn't contagious, is it?"

Draco scowled. "No, it's a…chronic issue. Do you know where Professor Snape is?"

"In the common room, letting the weepier first-years hang off of him. Since Calming Draughts aren't brew-able right now, it's the best he can do to keep the level of holiday fuss down for the rest of us." The upper-year raised his chin. "Why? You avoiding him, still?"

Draco suppressed a flinch. "No, why would you think that?" he snapped. "Just let me in, already!"

Warrington snickered. "If you're sure." He stepped aside.

"Hmph." Draco gripped the handle of the door, swallowing against the feeling of his heart in his throat. He could do this. His classmates didn't know, and Professor Snape wouldn't have told. Right? He had the sense to keep this between them, didn't he?

'Please don't let him have put two and two together,' Draco prayed. It was vastly better for him to have his godfather chasing after him out of medical concern than for the man to reject Draco due to issues of heritage. As he was now, with the worldview his parents had ever-so-carefully built for him crumbling further every day, Draco didn't think he could put up with that level of emotional strain. He was nearly at his breaking point as it was.

He opened the door and forced himself to step in before Warrington's estimation of his confidence dropped even lower. 'Look large and in charge, because that's what you are,' Draco thought. Even in his own head, it sounded like false bravado. He was a lie. The moment his classmates saw through him—

'Shut up,' he hissed at himself. Those were the thoughts of a peon, not a Malfoy. As soon as he walked into a room, it became his. If he couldn't believe it, then he'd fake it.

Several eyes slid toward him, drawn by the movement of the door. The one pair he feared most, dark and cutting, were the quickest to snap in his direction. Professor Snape sat taller in his chair by the fire. The first-years around him shied away, no doubt sensing the incoming storm. Slytherins had particularly good noses for drama.

"So you've returned," Professor Snape said neutrally. "Care to explain where you've been?"

No, he very much didn't. While he had a technically-not-a-lie prepared to keep his godfather from blowing up in his face, he'd prefer if he could put off having to use it. "Perhaps not in front of the class," he replied.

Professor Snape stood up with a quiet huff, sliced through the distance between them in a few steps, and seized Draco firmly by the upper arm. Draco stumbled along as the man dragged him out of the room and to his temporary office one door down in the hallway. Warrington watched them exit with unhidden interest.

"Mind your own business, Warrington," Draco snapped as they passed.

The prefect returned to watching the hall, though not without a little smirk on his lips. Draco wanted to hex it off.

Professor Snape pulled open the door of his office, roughly shoved Draco through it, then followed him in. He shut the door with a near-silent click that sent a shiver through Draco. "Muffliato," he cast toward the door with his Magic Rod. He turned back toward his godson with narrowed eyes. "I know what you've been hiding," he said.

Draco sucked in a breath through his nose, but didn't otherwise let himself react. "I'm perfectly willing to tell you what I've been up to, Professor," he said with a note of boyish eagerness-to-please that wasn't entirely inauthentic.

"That was guaranteed," Professor Snape said coldly. "No, I know what you have been hiding." He took a set of the Lenses of Truth out of his pocket.

Draco's heart stopped in his chest. His make-up was meant to return human color to his half-illusioned face, not pass muster when seen against his un-glamoured green complexion. He'd only dusted his ears with powder, not coated them fully, and he hadn't wanted to use a harsh Muggle treatment to turn the pink roots of his hair back to blond. How could he have known his godfather would borrow the Lenses of Truth from one of his classmates?! Didn't Professor Snape reject everything Hylian, just like the rest of the castle's staff?

"You wander toward water when left unattended. The Headmaster assigned you to speak with the Zoras infesting the castle for a reason. You've been dressing differently, wearing more make-up—trying to hide certain features," Professor Snape said.

Draco reached out for something to stabilize him—a subconscious search for Dog's thick fur—and found the chair in front of Professor Snape's desk. His fingers sank deep into the back cushion and made the wooden frame creak and crack. He couldn't think; white noise filled his head almost to bursting. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't make this stop!

Professor Snape raised the Lenses of Truth, though didn't put them on just yet. As if to hammer in the threat of his conclusion, he said with a hint of a hiss, "Your eyes look like theirs."

That snapped Draco out of his panicked stupor. "They do not," he said with a sneer. The irises were proportionally larger, the faintly luminous chartreuse was nowhere near these Inland Zoras' dim amber yellow, and the pupils had a narrower default state.

"Denial will no longer help you, Draco."

"It's not denial, it's—" Draco's words caught in his throat when Professor Snape put the Lenses of Truth on.

The man's eyes went wide. A soft gasp left his open mouth. He took a half-step forward. "What has happened to you?" he asked, his voice quiet and almost gentle with horror. "What did Potter do?"

"It's not about him!" Draco snarled. He wanted to tack on "you single-minded fool", but that might have been pushing his luck. "It was never about him! Potter's just some self-sacrificing idiot that you keep blaming all the world's ills on for no good reason!" He whipped off his sunglasses and pointed to his eyes. "This is heritage, Professor. If you're going to blame anyone about it, then you can get in line after me once I hunt down my idiot ancestor's portrait." He pushed the glasses back onto his nose. "And I have nothing at all to do with these giant merpeople. They inhabit only rivers and lakes. Flying Zoras are marine creatures, I come from a family with a connection to the sea, and it's perfectly possible for the people here to cross over into our world with the right resources. Do the math."

He'd already done some himself while stewing alone with his memories during long nights at the inn, turning over his parents' teachings in his head and wondering how much merit they still held. In pondering the generational source of his blood impurity, he'd narrowed his mental search down to one easily-tracked trait that could be linked to a family tradition: the Malfoy habit of eating raw fresh catch on sailing trips. It wasn't common, nor approved of in the regions his family resided in, so few non-Zora Malfoys were likely to enjoy it.

If he thought back, he could recall that it was something only his living Malfoy relatives and the most recent family portraits had ever spoken of fondly. The portraits in his great-grandparents' generation and beyond had only ever made sour faces about it when a younger Draco had bounded up to talk about the sailing trips his father or older cousins had taken him out on. His grandmothers and maternal grandfather had scowled, too, but his Malfoy grandfather had been delighted to chat about what kind of fish he'd liked best when he'd been alive and the beauty of the sunrise through the ocean mist. The clues had never lined up for him when he'd been younger because they hadn't had any reason to, but now Draco was sure that one of his paternal grandfather's parents had betrayed their family. Not only that, but someone must have used an unknown—possibly Light World—form of magic to cover it up. The factor for this year that set it apart from the ones before was Light World magic. His father and aunties looked human, his cousins looked human, his grandfather had looked human, and Draco had also looked human up until a few months ago, so his exposure to Light World influences must have disrupted whatever it was that had kept him from growing gills.

He could imagine an echo of Red's voice going "Hey, you actually thought things through! Good job!" and he mentally scoffed at it. Just because he rarely had to problem-solve, on account of rarely causing problems (for himself), that didn't make him incapable. He bet that he could solve mysteries just as well as Potter(s) and Friends, if he wanted to!

As Draco was thinking over his situation, so too was his godfather. "Flying Zora…?" the man said faintly. Professor Snape's face screwed up in confusion before a memory seemed to hit him. "That first Hylian creature, with those fin-wings. It was green and red with yellow eyes."

"He was a Muggle adventurer who got tangled in Vaati's shenanigans, not anyone related to me, but yes, we noticed a certain resemblance between us," Draco sniffed. He stood tall with his hands on his hips. Now this was his conversation, not Professor Snape's. He knew more about this than his godfather did, which gave him a rare upper hand. "So, what shall you do? Reveal my heritage and ruin my standing among my housemates, dooming me to a miserable existence at this school? Start treating me like an animal, even though all that has changed is my visible heritage? This was always a part of me; it just hadn't taken effect for reasons I have yet to find out. I'm still Draco Malfoy, and I will not give up my position as the scion of my family House. Choose wisely, Professor, because I have no intention of laying down and losing here."

They matched gazes in silence, Professor Snape still looking knocked on the back foot and Draco ready for a fight. There was something thrilling about taking control of the situation from his godfather. He itched for an argument. The Potters were no fun to verbally spar with; they had too many feelings to hurt, and he didn't get the same enjoyment out of making them flinch that he used to. Professor Snape wasn't breakable like those soft-hearted Gryffindors. While a part of Draco still feared the consequences of pissing the man off, he knew he wouldn't be able to do any emotional damage here.

"What are you hiding under that scarf?" Professor Snape asked after a long, tense silence.

That was far from anything Draco had expected. "What?"

"You have been wearing a House scarf almost constantly, and now you've come back wearing another scarf. Why?"

Draco's confidence wavered. "Oh. I…" He put a hand to the accessory. He hadn't wanted to tell the whole truth, only what was useful for gaining dominance over the discussion.

His complexion was only a cosmetic change, but the gills would be much more difficult for anyone to accept. While he did enjoy being able to swim without worries about air, the gills that allowed him to do so were so terribly inhuman. There were very, very few hybrids of merpeople and wizardkind in existence, and it was because merpeople were far from human despite surface-level similarities. It had little to do with physical differences between species; witches and wizards were able and willing to reproduce with a wide variety of sapient magical creatures, some of which Draco considered more hideous than fish-people. It was more that humans were seen as invasive annoyances by Selkies and considered prey by those creatures' prettier, warm-water cousins. A mostly-human with merperson gills was as unnatural as a half-giant whose human parent hadn't been crushed before the reproductive act could even happen. Zoras were far more human-tolerant than merpeople, of course, but it was any wizard's ingrained response to see something like Draco as an abomination even among abominations.

He clenched his fists at his sides. Professor Snape had proven himself an aggravating information-hound and hovering nanny in the last month, and he would only become even more of an irritation if he didn't get what he wanted. The man would eventually find out anyway, as persistent as he was. Draco had the sense not to say it, but Professor Snape was like the Potters that way.

"They're gills," he declared, clear and assertive. He would not cede ground with a timid, fearful admission. "My ancestry has proven itself to be quite strong, possibly because of Light World magic having a habit of overpowering anything from the Dark World." Most Zoras were technically Muggles, but still had inherent power to their race that could clash with his wizard nature. Their species-wide magic was rather similar to merpeople and their legendary voices, actually. "I haven't gone so far as growing fins, but I'm able to breathe underwater." He glared at the teacher challengingly. "If you try to force me away from the water to 'keep me safe', just as you've been haranguing the Potters to stay away from me, you'll only be causing yourself and I unnecessary strife. The only thing dangerous about this lake was the monster infestation, and those creatures are gone now."

"I will not be ordered around by a child," Professor Snape said, drawing himself up. He took off the Lenses of Truth and returned them to his pocket. "I will come to my own decisions regarding this…health issue. And, of course, your parents will be notified as soon as I'm able to send a letter."

"Why does anyone have to know?" Draco asked. "It's my problem, and I ought to be able to decide who to tell about it. All anyone else needs to know is that I wear sunglasses and a scarf now."

"Your parents will be notified," Professor Snape repeated, his voice as hard as stone. "If I have further questions, you will answer them truthfully. Now, you may rejoin your housemates."

A reptilian hiss slipped past Draco's self-control. He was sure his pupils had gone to slits. Here he was, all keyed up for a fight, and Professor Snape was being so calm! Where was the rage and panic he'd expected? Where was the rejection? It sounded like he still cared! How dare he pretend?

"So that's it?" he rasped. "I'm free to go? Just like that?"

"As I said, my decisions concerning this matter are still pending," Professor Snape said. "You've been in this state for some time, and I've no reason to believe you've suddenly become someone else in the days you have been off doing things that you'll describe to me in detail once you're in a calmer state. You're free to go…for now."

"Hmph." That was closer to what he'd expected, but still far more lenient than what he'd been bracing himself for. It felt like the other shoe had yet to drop, and he didn't like it. Unfortunately, it didn't look like he had any control over that here. Professor Snape had seized the reins again and pulled the conversation to a halt. "Fine, we'll speak later," he said haughtily. It still felt like admitting defeat. "Happy Christmas." He turned and strode out with as much aristocratic dignity as he could, grinding his teeth.


Item Get: Bash Buckler. This tiny shield is composed of the same metal that would one day be used for Guardian units, making it lightweight, electricity-proof, magic-resistant, and nigh-indestructible. What it doesn't offer in impenetrable defense, it offers in speed and offense. Awaken the boxer within!

Item Get: Bunny Cloak. Crafted long ago by an eccentric Hylian tailor inspired by obscure tales about Ravio of the Dark World, the garment has effects similar to a Bunny Hood. (Speed Boost +1, Jump 1.5x)

Item Get: Flameblade. Literally the Flameblade from BOTW (power 24, more powerful than the Four Sword's current 15), except non-breakable and with infinite flames due to the Harrys' wizardly nature. The downside of being wielded by a wizard is that the blade will sap magical stamina with every swing, so it must still be used carefully. Being reckless with the blade will cause the mage fueling it to collapse from magic exhaustion.

Notes:

-It was really difficult trying to figure out what presents Shadow Harry would get for the boys, since I wanted them to be interesting but not on the same level as dungeon items. Because my Shadow has that pain-for-gain philosophy and Christmas presents that were too powerful would be a freebie, so it would break his rules.
-Ocarina of Time monsters Harry saw in his not-memories: Gohma (bug), Volvagia (dragon), Bongo Bongo (ghost thing). The Piratian mentioned in Wind Waker Link's journal are from Oracle of Seasons.
-Hyrule has wine, but it's made from apples. The way the economy is set up is a lot "smaller" than in our world, too. People don't hoard money to the same extent as they do in our world, both because Light World people are naturally less ill-intentioned and because anyone who gets too mired in their desires might wind up with a Champion or a Hero breaking down their door. There's also pretty tight regulation in place to keep any businesses from growing into monopolies or price-gouging.
Next month: the scale of the disaster in the desert grows.