Though it's known as The Final Battle, the name is a bit of a misnomer. It was definitely the last battle fought in Hogwarts, surely: once Harry Potter had miraculously returned from the dead, spilling out of Hagrid's arms and facing Voldemort down like the hero he was, he spoke to the Dark Lord casually. Of course, it's not like Harry had much to fear, he'd been hit with the Killing Curse twice and merely knocked out the second time. He spoke to Voldemort of the Elder Wand, how Draco Malfoy had disarmed Dumbledore the night of his death, and further that Harry himself had disarmed Draco months before, and he said those words:

"Does the Elder Wand know it has a new master?"

Then he shot a spell at the Dark Lord, and Voldemort lived up to his name. He threw his wand at Harry, drew another from his robes and shouted something in what I later learned is Parseltongue, and vanished along with several of his Death Eaters.

The fight afterwards was short and desperate, resulting in the deaths of several witches and wizards on both sides, though it did include Neville Longbottom drawing the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat and decapitating Voldemort's pet snake.

Hogwarts, The Order of the Phoenix, the 'Light' won against the dark, stunned by the fleeing of their leader, but there was no time to celebrate. Every able-bodied witch and wizard joined the hunt for Voldemort, following his trail of destruction to the heart of Muggle London.

What we found was terrifying. What happened next was worse.

Muggles slaughtered by the dozen. Bellatrix Lestrange, the Malfoys, Fenrir Greyback, and the rest of those who had fled with Voldemort, were dead. All sacrificed to power an unholy ritual. And we were too late. The portal was opening even as Harry leapt into battle with Voldemort, but it was not enough. A great stone of green energy burned in the circle of corpses, and a massive portal of the same colour burned into life.

Voldemort laughed and shouted, "Do you see now, Potter?! If I cannot rule, then none shall! You will all be consumed, while I shall ascend!"

A massive arm erupted from the portal, carrying an equally massive weapon, impaling Voldemort through the back. The creature that emerged, enormous and horrifying, burning with sickly green energy, what we later learned was named a Pit Lord, lifted Voldemort stuck on its spear like a hors d'oeuvres and ate him in one bite.

I suppose in the end Voldemort got what he wanted. He ascended, surely, right into a demon's maw.

And then the Burning Legion invaded.

I thought I knew what Hell was like, living in Voldemort's Britain, slaving away in his camps, beaten and starved for fun…

I was very, very wrong.

The Second Blood War had ended…and The Demon War began.

Excerpt from MEMOIRS OF A MUDBLOOD, by Dean Thomas.

But most effective of all was known as The Chimera Group, several squads of intermixed races, the most famous of which was Owl Squad, led by Harry Potter. With the indiscriminate slaughter perpetuated by the Burning Legion, no one race was safe, and for the first time, old grudges and ancient laws were tossed aside in favour of survival.

Using techniques from every source and the brightest from every race, a ritual was devised that would grant the user power, in the form of what is called a Soul Weapon. While the specifics of the ritual remain secret to this day, it is widely known that it involved the creation of a weapon using Goblin Silver and a Dwarven technique known as Rune Folding, where runes are carved into the heated metal and then folded so that they form new ones while retaining the effects of the first.

Not only did this group wield weapons of both Magical and Muggle make, but strange magics as well. There are many records of members of the Chimera Group turning into smoke and flying without assistance.

One was forced to wonder what the Group had done to themselves for such power…and if it would be enough.

It was decided that such a group of strange comrades and strange power would be given a new designation, for those who no longer fit the mould of a mere Witch, Wizard or Warlock.

The designation?

Warmage.

Excerpt from THE UNEXPECTED BENEFITS OF GLOBAL WAR, by A. Polliyon.

The typical kit of a Warmage consists of several pieces of equipment:

A suit of battle armour, Kevlar padding with rune threading, Rune-Carved carbon fibre armour, Goblin Steel mail, and dragon skin (rarely basilisk) boots, coat and gloves.

An 'Aegis' Gauntlet.

A Soul Weapon for Melee made of Rune Folded Goblin Steel or Silver, typically in the form of a sword, axe, or mace, but occasionally as a spear or poleaxe.

A Muggle Firearm made of Rune Carved (the internal mechanisms of a firearm being too complicated for Rune Folding) Goblin Steel or Silver, typically a pistol, rifle or shotgun.

Four Magazines of Rune Carved bullets.

Four Rune Carved grenades of various types.

Six vials of Wiggenweld potion.

A Belt of Restocking.

Knife made of Goblin Steel or Silver.

A wand with self-cleaning and polishing holster.

A ring Focus.

Staves were briefly considered as part of the kit, but the regularity of melee combat and the temptation to use a surprisingly delicate magical focus as a bludgeon was judged as not cost effective.

Excerpt from THE CHIMERA GROUP by Anonymous.

Given the nature of war, losses were inevitable. Of those from Hogwarts, the first to fall were Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Though they lasted for two years, with Weasley even gaining tactical command of his own squad, things had not been well for them near the end. Reports from dissatisfied soldiers told of Weasley referring to them as 'Pawns' and himself and Granger as 'King and Queen' as well as needlessly sacrificial tactics and a refusal to use Muggle weaponry. It was later determined that Weasley's tactical rigidity was the cause of the destruction of his squad.

Only a month later, Neville Longbottom was reported dead as well. According to accounts from soldiers under his command, his squad had been led into an ambush while attempting to close the Norwegian Demongate; Longbottom, in a display of heroism, ordered his squad to flee before casting Fiendfyre to draw the attention of the ambushing demons before leading them away.

In the next, successful operation to close the Norway Gate, Longbottom's remains were discovered, surrounded by the corpses of several dozen Imps, two dozen Felhounds, a dozen Succubi, several Void Elementals, seven Felguards and four Shivarra. The shattered remains of the Sword of Gryffindor were also recovered and rumoured to have been incorporated into Harry Potter's Soul Weapon.

Neville Longbottom was posthumously awarded the highest honours from the British, French and American governments, along with the Goblin Nation, the Dwarven Nation and the combined Clans of the Centaur people.

An incursion through the French Demongate, led by Rubeus Hagrid and Bill Weasley, was deemed unsuccessful after several hours and following invasions by demons, and so the gate was closed.

Charlie Weasley was killed in action following his freeing of over a hundred dragons in six different sanctuaries, and later riding a Norwegian Ridgeback into battle, leading to the destruction of the Russian Demongate.

George Weasley sacrificed his life to save several buses full of women and children fleeing the Filipino Invasion, along with his wife, Angela.

Ginevra Weasley and Molly Weasley both sadly perished with the opening of the first Demongate in London.

Arthur Weasley was declared missing after the collapse of the British Ministry of Magic, with the Fel taint of the primary Demongate seeping into the ground, it is likely his and several other bodies will never be recovered.

Only a year before the final attack on Demongate, formerly London, Luna Lovegood was killed in action. It was rumoured but never proven that she and Harry Potter were a couple at the time.

Of course, she would not be the last to die before the war was ended…

Excerpt from NOTABLE LOSSES OF BRITISH MAGICALS, VOL. 1

Letter from Kingsley Shacklebolt, CHIMERA LEAD, to General Williams,

TOP SECRET INFORMATION, YOUR EYES ONLY

General Williams,

After the incursion into Demongate last week and the capture of HVP 1 and 2, we've managed to perform interrogation and have received actionable intel…as well as something else.

Thaddeus, no one can know. Some of the information we've received is…horrifying, to say the least.

On the other hand, the intel we gained is also incredibly helpful, and may just lead to the end of this damn invasion. Attached below is a transcript of the interrogation taken by Dicta-Quill and a vial of memories.

ADDE: The spell used to capture HVP 1 and 2 is, well…we can't figure if it should be classified as an Unforgivable or not, given the very narrow uses. Something to figure out after this is all over.

Kingsley Shacklebolt.

TRANSCRIPT: Interrogation of High-Value Prisoners: Succubus Matriarch Marsiclezz and Succubus Sarclosez. INTERROGATORS: Harry Potter (OWL-1) and Solomon White (OWL-2):

BEGIN TRANSCRIPTION:

Harry Potter: "Alright, this is the third interrogation of the High-Value Prisoners, Succubus Matriarch Marsiclezz and Succubus Sarclosez-"

Succubus Matriarch Marsiclezz: "Oh please darling, that's quite the mouthful and not the kind I like. Call me 'Marcy' please."

Succubus Sarclosez: "And call me 'Sara'! I'm so glad we finally get to talk to some real cuties this time~ Those other guys were ugly."

Solomon White: "You ladies seem pretty friendly, not at all like the harpies threatening to rip out our entrails like the other guys."

'Marcy': "As my sweet daughter said, you're much better looking, and I can tell that you're the ones who actually captured us. Speaking of, I was hoping for a little more whips and chains and spankings, this is kinda…meh."

SW: "It is supposed to be punishment, not a spa weekend."

'Sara': "What's a spa?"

HP: "Tell us what we want to know, and we can see about making your stay a bit more comfortable, hm?"

'Marcy': *giggles* 'A little give and take? Some…back and forth…and back and forth?"

SW: "You don't know, we might just do that."

'Marcy': "Hm…How about you hit me with that spell you used to capture us, and we'll see from there?"

HP: "Come on, Marcy, there's got to be a little give before the take. Tell me something, anything."

'Marcy': "Alright Darling, since you're so cute…ever since the other portals were closed, we've had a bit of a bottleneck on the other side. The Pit Lord is bringing more Nathrezim across to build more portals on your planet."

HP: "Where?"

'Marcy': "Nuh-uh, Darling, your turn."

HP: "Hmph, fine. Solomon, give 'em a little taste."

SW: "Gotcha." *Draws wand* "Crucio."

'Sara':.*Pleasured squealing*

'Marcy': "Wha-hey! That's mine!"

HP: "I don't think so. We're aware of the Nathrezim and have already dealt with the bastards. Hm…maybe your daughter knows something a little more useful?"

'Sara': "I do! I do!"

SW: "Spill it sweetheart or the spell ends."

'Marcy': "Don't say a word you little slut!"

'Sara': *blows raspberry at mother* "I'm not a little slut, mother! Do you know the specifics of the ritual What's-His-Face used to open the portal?"

HP: "Ritual sacrifice of innocent lives, followed by ritual sacrifice of betrayed followers, twisting magic to link it through a portal stone to create a doorway between ours and yours, as far as we can tell."

'Sara': "Close, darling. *moan* It's-"

*'Marcy' throws herself over 'Sara' covering her mouth with a hand.*

'Marcy': "It's a Lodestone ritual, which we normally don't use to invade other worlds!"

HP: "...Other worlds?"

SW: "Normally?"

'Marcy': "Do you seriously think this ball of dirt is the only world with life and magic on it? In all of the cosmos?"

*Both Succubi laugh*

'Sara': "Not even close!"

HP: "This Lodestone ritual, what's different about it?"

'Marcy': "Typically we either subvert agents on the planet or send a company of demons to open a portal directly through the Nether for a preliminary invasion while the fleet follows. In this case, the Lodestone is not only keeping the portal open, but allowing any demon that passes through it to assume their shape using Fel Magic. The Lodestone itself is twisting the native magic into Fel."

HP: "What would happen if the Lodestone is destroyed?"

'Sara': "It would send every demon that had passed through it back to the Nether, that's why we don't use it that often."

SW: "So…it would send every demon back?"

'Sara': "Yep! Even the ones that came through the other portals, because they were using the Lodestone to open those, too."

SW: "Handy."

HP: "Why use that ritual? Why not the usual ways?"

'Marcy': "Because it doesn't matter, darling. This world has plentiful magic, yes, but it's a mere drop compared to others. We aren't really invading, either, its more to get practice, you know. Killing, converting, conquering for the big one."

HP: "...What do mean, 'not really invading'? The Legion's been slaughtering innocents and tainting our world for over seven years."

'Sara': "Pfft. That's nothing. I'm seven hundred years old!"

'Marcy': "And I'm closing in on five thousand. Oh, my darlings, did you think you were facing the full might of the Legion? There aren't even any Eredar!"

HP: "..."

SW: "..."

'Marcy': "Oh…well, you've done a good job so far, darlings! Some worlds don't last even a year! Why don't you come on in this cell, and we can turn those frowns upside down!"

SW: "Tempting, but how about- *spell redacted*!"

'Marcy': *Loud, pleasured screaming.*

'Sara': "Hey, I told you stuff too! Do me!"

HP: "Just a little more, Sara. What's this Nether you keep referring to?"

'Sara': "The Twisting Nether, it's a place between planes of existence where demons come from. When we die, our souls get sent there, then reform and we spawn back home. All demons, even imps, are technically immortal, unless another demon eats their soul…and even then, they're not really dead."

SW: "How are demons made, then?"

'Sara': *sultry giggling* "Oh there are plenty of ways, baby. Any soul that becomes tainted enough goes to the Nether when they die, they become a demon, then spawn at home in a new body. There are also rituals to convert other beings to demons. We Succubi can do both, or with a magically powerful partner…*lewd gestures*"

HP: "*Spell redacted* Thanks, you've been very helpful. We might stop by again."

'Sara': *Loud, pleasured screaming.*

'Marcy': "H-hey, we're you going?! I thought we were gonna have a foursome!"

SW: "We'll be back, don't worry about that, ladies."

*HP and SW leave holding area*

SW: "...We are gonna come back, right? Those demons are sexy."

HP: "We'll be back, not for that, stop drooling. Shack's gotta hear what we found out."

END TRANSCRIPTION.

Letter cont.

If word got out that the malevolent force that's been terrorizing our world for near a decade is unending and far more powerful than we've seen…morale would never recover.

Our only hope is to find and destroy the Lodestone and send the demons back where they came from, and hope to whatever gods there are that they don't find us worth bothering with.

That being said, we have a plan.

See you soon.

Kingsley

"This is Demongate, formerly known as London," Harry said as the projection rose from the sheet of parchment to hover above the table. Demongate was a massive compound made of black, spiky metal that glowed green in places. The earth around it was mostly cracked and barren, with the exception of demonic, twisted plants. "After reconnoitring the area, we've discovered the layout beyond the first gate is thus: immediately behind the gates there's a lane that leads to a second gate, which leads to a third, which leads to the portal and the Pit Lord who guards it."

"This lane is flanked by encampments beyond the first gate, likely imps, Felguards and Cultists," Kingsley continued, pausing to let the gathered soldiers hiss invectives at the traitors, "There are most likely Felhounds as well. On the far side of the leftmost encampment there's a heavy Fel Magic signature, detected thanks to the Gnomish Magic Detector device. This is most likely where the Wardstone for the Anti-Air wards are housed."

"Second gate, we detected evidence of Void magic, so likely Void Guards, Dementors and Void Veela," Harry picked back up, sparing a glance at Fleur Delacour, who growled under her breath as blue flames roiled in the magical sapphire that had replaced her right eye. "Beyond the third gate lies the majority of the demons, though if the other Demon gates are standard, the Succubi covens will be stationed somewhere between the first and second gates. Expect Shivarra, Nathrezim and the like, with the final target…The Pit Lord."

He tapped his finger on the table, bringing up an image of the demon in question: it was a massive beast, with four thick legs and a tail with armour along its spine, a pair of comically tiny wings and a hulking torso with large, muscular arms and an enormous belly. The shoulders were armoured along with the wrists, and it carried a double-ended glaive almost as long as itself. Finally, the head was hairless, a pair of large curved tusks flanked a mouth full of fangs, the top of its skull opened to show a mass of Eldritch green fire that matched its eyes.

Solomon whistled lowly, "That's one ugly motherfucker," he said aloud.

"Thanks for your observation, Corporal Obvious," The General, Thaddeus Williams, said dryly, stepping up to the table, a small smirk on his scarred, haggard face. "With the Intel we've gained from interrogation, our battle plan will be simple, but effective. Thanks to Commander Potter's tendency to be a sneaky bastard, we've planted Baromite charges on the first gate, as well as underneath the mounts for the Fel Cannons on the outside wall. Our combined forces will amass here with the use of one-time Portkeys, outside of the cannons range. Once we're all gathered at the rendezvous, the charges will be detonated and the army will advance. Owl Squad will be the vanguard-"

"Who else?!" Harry barked, thumping his fist over his heart.

"HOO, HOO, HOO!" His squad 'hooted' back, pounding their chests with their fists.

"-Supported by Metal Squad," General Williams continued, "Harpy and Wolf Squad, you'll split from the main attack to hit the Cultists' living area. Your target is the Anti-Air Wardstone, once that's down we can really do some damage. Eagle Squad will take positions on portable towers to provide overwatch, while Scorpion Squad will provide armour and artillery. Griffin Squad will be aerial support."

"Nice to have you watching our backs, Dean," Harry commented, trading nods with his fellow former Gryffindor.

"Might not be down on the ground, but I've still got my eyes on you," the dark-skinned man replied with a grin.

"Once the AA Ward is down, armour will bombard the area beyond the second gate to clear the way before breaching, and the held back squads will move forward to secure the area as the vanguard advances. Remember that the Patronus Charm will weaken Void-tainted creatures, but cannot kill them," Williams reminded sternly.

"Oui," Fleur hissed, steam rising from her palms, "That is what fire is for."

The General brought up the projection of the Pit Lord again. "And finally, guarding the portal will be the Pit Lord, guaranteed to be the strongest demon in their forces. With AA Ward down, we'll bombard it and the area around with so much firepower it'll wish it'd never crawled out of Hell. The Pit Lord is secondary, however, to this," the projection became that of a poisonous green stone, round and roughly faceted as if done by an enormous child. "This…is the Lodestone. This big rock is all that's keeping the portal open…and keeping the Legion from going back. Thanks to the intel provided by a few High Value Prisoners, we learned that once the Lodestone is destroyed, it'll banish every demon on this side of the portal and collapse it."

A hush fell over the gathered soldiers, their faces showing shock, swiftly followed by hardened determination.

Williams nodded at Harry, who stepped forward. "Everyone," he started grimly, "I want to say that this is like every portal we've closed…I want to. But that would be a lie. This is it. The Big One. They know that if the Lodestone is destroyed, that's it, so they'll be fighting with all they have to defend it. I've asked a lot from you all over the years, and I'm afraid I have to ask even more, here and now. We'll need everything…every vicious desire, every rebellious scrap we can muster, every ounce of energy you have…because we cannot fail. Everyone is counting on us. Earth is counting on us. We destroy that rock…the Legion will be gone, and Earth will be safe. Then…we can finally rebuild. I'd gladly give my life for that to happen, would you?"

"YES, SIR!"

The General stepped forward. "Detailed battle plans will be sent out to your commanders soon. In the meantime, I want everyone on weapon and armour checks, then a full meal and eight solid hours of rack time. Dismissed." He saluted sharply and the gathered soldiers stood and saluted him back. He gave them all a small smile and a nod before leaving.

As they fell out, Solomon jogged up besides Harry, a characteristic wild grin on his lips. "So how much you wanna bet it'll come down to you facing off with that Pit Lard by yourself?"

Harry grimaced and punched the American in the shoulder. "Don't even joke about that," he grumbled, idly reaching up to rub the faded lightning bolt scar on his forehead. "I've had enough of that shite. The plan is to drop the AA Ward then carpet bomb that fat arse demon, the portal and the stone until it's sand. Far better than relying on one person to get the job done."

"Pfft," Solomon waved his rebuttal off with a raspberry, eyes glinting with humour, "Bitch please. You've got mad Main Character energy and there's one big bad guarding the one thing that'll end this war in one shot. We might as well just call it 'The Climactic Battle.'"

"Stop jinxing it!" Harry ordered, slapping him a small scroll, "Now pass those out before I hex your testicles to tapdance."

Solomon took the scrolls in his arms with a laugh, "You know I'm right! You were there when it opened, you'll be there at the close! It's like poetry, it rhymes!" He didn't notice Harry freezing as he flagged down Fleur. "Hey, Hot Stuff! Got a present for ya!"

Shaking his head, the English wizard continued on, stopping to hand out scrolls. "Alright, Dean? How's the leg?"

"Itches sometimes," Dean Thomas replied, lightly rapping his knuckles against the wood that replaced his leg from the knee down. It roughly matched the shape of his other leg, with equal articulation, but no toes. "Demon's took my leg, but I learned how to fly. How about you, Harry? Ready to end it?"

"Been ready for near a decade now," Harry answered with a grim smile, handing his fellow Gryffindor a scroll, "Here, that's the Tac-Scroll for the Battle tomorrow. It'll update the feed on your visor when the fighting starts."

Dean smirked, lightly bopping Harry on the shoulder with the scroll. "I know how Tac-Scrolls work, Harry. Nervous, eh?"

He shrugged and clasped hands with his comrade. "Who isn't? Make sure you survive, yeah? You still owe me that beer." As Dean nodded, Harry continued on. "Lav, here's your scroll."

"Thanks babe," Lavender Brown grinned wolfishly, augmented by the silver claw scars that descended her cheek, "Though I thought Wolf Squad would be in the vanguard, too?"

"You're too pretty to lead the van, Lav," he teased, and she rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "Besides, we'll be in the thick of it while you and Harpy have the important job. With that AA Ward up, putting down that Pit Lord goes from bloody difficult to nigh-on impossible."

She gave him a flat look. "No pressure, then. I'm sure you'd figure out something, Harry, you always do."

"No pressure, then," Harry echoed with a smirk, looping an arm around her waist and squeezing her against him, "Besides…I thought you liked it when I put pressure on you?"

Lavender giggled and slapped his chest, almost sounding like she did so long ago back at Hogwarts. "Later, babe," she promised, kissing his cheek before lightly pushing him away, taking her leave to deliver her scroll.

After handing off the last set of battle plans, Harry left the command center, trading nods with other soldiers as he passed, brushing through the cloth covering the doorway. The entire compound was actually a series of interconnected wizard tents, gathered in some remote corner of Scotland, flanked by the Hebridies. It was fairly easy to pack up and move, while also being leagues better than trenches.

Stepping into the armoury, he let out a short three-toned whistle, making a figure draped in a heavy apron, visage covered by a welding mask as they used a laser pen to carve runes into a 1911 handgun, pause and cock their head. With a snap of their fingers, another similarly-clad figure shuffled over and took on the job as the first began striding towards Harry, shedding mask and apron to reveal a set of black coveralls and a feminine, if inhuman face.

She had a small, hooked nose, though it was more cute than gnarly, with sharp eyebrows, a sharp chin and sharply pointed ears, though one could not say they were elfin. Her eyes were shaped like almonds, with irises that glittered like polished gold. "Ghu'ruk, Harry," she greeted, speaking through sharp teeth, "What do you need me for?"

"Arms and armour check, Dir'Zael," he replied, stepping over to an empty table. As Harry began to lay his weapons down, he swept an emerald over her figure as she unzipped the top of her coveralls, revealing a blue tank top underneath.

Her arms were lean and muscled, flexing slightly as she tied the arms of her coveralls around her waist, with a pair of decently large breasts straining the front of her top. She was also an even four feet tall, which put her a solid foot above other goblins.

Zael, as she preferred to be called, took his wand between her hands, eyes narrowing as she examined it. "Wand: Elder Wood. Core: Unknown. Origin: Unknown. Za'brstka."

Though, saying 'other goblins' would be a bit of a misnomer, seeing as the Goblins themselves would make an expression like they'd bitten into a particularly sour lemon when called that. It was their own fault, though; whenever they were asked about these creatures that looked like goblins, spoke like goblins but were far easier on the eyes, they would merely say that they 'only saw sunlight in the most dire of situations.' Hence they were called 'Dire Goblins.'

Zael set down his wand and picked up a ring of light wood. Pinching it between her fingers, it began to glow softly. "Ring focus: Sakura wood. Core: Onigumo hair and thread. Origin: Master Momochi and Sastuki the Onigumo, crafted three years ago, Fuji. Ki'ryn." Compared to a typical goblin, Dir'Zael and her like were far less wrinkled with far more hair, usually dark to pair with their light green skin. Taller, too.

Rings were a bit strange as far as Foci go, being preferred by mainly the Japanese Wizards. They were versatile when it came to casting spells on the user like self-transfiguration and even shields, but lacked the direct power of a wand. Still, gesturing with a hand and watching a demon go flying or having a fistful of lightning rip out of your palm never lost novelty. And some specific curses were more effective through touch.

Nodding, she set the ring on the table and carefully picked up the next weapon: a plain-looking English longsword…if it weren't for the nearly-visible magic shrouding the blade, the runes etched down the length of metal where a fuller would be, changing between emerald green and ruby red depending on the angle, the finely-scaled leather wrapped around the hilt and the ruby in the pommel.

Avoiding the edge, Zael pinched the tip of the flat between her fingers, letting her other hand rest on the hilt. Her eyes glowed golden, the runes along the spine of the sword lighting up, as did several others that were hidden in and throughout the metal itself. "Soul Weapon: Briar. Owner: Harry Potter. Construction consists of Goblin-Forged Steel. Incorporated within: the feather of a Phoenix, owner's blood, phoenix tears, basilisk venom, Goblin-Forged Silver. Hilt construction: holly wood, basilisk skin, ruby. Runic integrity: One-Hundred percent. Bzki'ryn."

Harry looked down at his sword with a conflicted expression. On one hand, it represented one of his moments of true heroism, pulling the Sword of Godric Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat, defending the life of an innocent, and slaying a monster. On the other, constructing the weapon itself had been a trying task to say the least, and incorporating the pieces of not only his beloved wand but the shards of the Sword after it had been recovered brought back unpleasant memories.

The next weapon was a rather blocky, oversized pistol, runes plainly carved into the barrel, slide and grip, the blood-sealed enchantments nearly black against the silver metal. With deft fingers, Zael pulled the weapon apart in under ten seconds, eyeing critically every screw, spring and strip of metal before putting it back together just as quickly. "Firearm, pistol, .50 calibre. Constructed of Goblin Silver. Owner: Harry Potter. Name: Hedwig. Firearm Runic Integrity: One-Hundred Percent."

As she set the pistol aside, Harry let his fingers brush over the metal with a small, nostalgic smile. Hedwig had been his first real friend, his first proof that there was a world out there where he belonged, his only line of communication with those that cared for him, his only companion in the prison that was the Dursleys'. She'd given her life to save his, and finding that Ted Tonks had searched for and eventually recovered her body, preserving it so Harry would be able to bury her himself had been a kindness he wished he could've repaid.

Using one of the rituals for creating Soul Weapons, along with ash and bone from Hedwig's body, he had imbued the metal that was then shaped into a pistol with her soul. She'd been at his side throughout this war as she should've been through the last.

"Runic Magazine Integrity: One-Hundred Percent," Zael continued, holding one of four magazines in her hand. "Testing Summoning and Repairing Enchantments." Donning Harry's Ring Focus, she drew her finger lengthwise across one of the thumb-sized cartridges that his pistol fired, whereupon it split neatly in two. Idly flicking one half of the bullet in one direction and the other in another, she pressed her thumb on a concentric circle of runes near the bottom of the magazine.

With a click, the bullet reappeared, looking just as shiny and new as the day it was made. There were runes carved on the tip of the bullets and the sides of the shell, both to enhance the damage they could deal and to pair them with the Refilling Magazines. He had four of them, technically three plus the one loaded into the gun, as did most soldiers.

"Ballistic Projectiles, Runic Integrity: One-Hundred Percent," Zael continued, setting the magazine aside and picking up another, "Second set of Ballistic Projectiles, Runic Integrity: One-Hundred Percent. Incendiary Projectiles, Runic Integrity: One-Hundred Percent."

'Incendiary' was a bit of a misname, considering the bullets were more shells that delivered a payload of equal parts thermite and phosphorus, but 'Itsy-Bitsy War Crimes' was too long and legally speaking, it wasn't a war crime if it was done to a demon.

"High-Explosive Armor-Piercing Projectiles, Runic Integrity: One-Hundred Percent. Kri'nsk." Zael nodded to herself and looked up at him with satisfaction gleaming in her gold eyes, "I see you've been maintaining your arms, ghu'ru. Brstk, Za'brskta."

"Of course, ghu'bi," Harry replied with a smirk, reaching out to stroke the Dire Goblin's hair, which got the typical series of gasps and mutters from the others, "You know I hate to see you disappointed."

She nodded shortly, incidentally rubbing her head against his hand, "If your armour is as clean and and maintained as your weapons, then I will be satisfied…tu'cik. Speaking of…" Zael snapped her fingers and the project she had been previously working on was brought to her by another Goblin.

Laying on the table before them was a weapon, one with a blocky shoulder stock, a rounded trigger guard connected to smaller but no less round foregrip, with a small muzzle above that, then a curved section with an integrated sight that reached back over a magazine well, where a magazine would be placed perpendicular to the trigger.

And, of course, it was covered in freshly-carved runes, though in a larger number than Hedwig and even Briar.

"Ah, a P90," Harry muttered, dragging the pads of his fingers across the metal and wood. "Fifty round magazine of 5.7 millimetre bullets. Excellent armour penetration past One-Hundred and Fifty Metres. Very good against Cultists, traitors and even Succubi and Felhounds, but might as well be rain against the bigger demons."

That was one of the oddities of the Demons: they were as much magic as they were biological tissue. Under examination, before they dissipated into foul-smelling ash, demon bodies had revealed that they could seemingly ignore smaller calibres of bullets, even the human-sized ones like Succubi. The rounds would punch holes in their flesh, but the magic in them would seal the resulting wound up even before the following air pressure could pierce their tissue.

It took large calibres, .45 at the least to leave even a minor wound. Big bullets or concentrated fire.

"The frame also provides plenty of space for Runic Arrays," Zael added, tapping the stock. "It's been a personal project of mine to have a smaller calibre weapon fire a larger one without compromising magazine size or having to enlarge the weapon itself. Za'brskta, it has been accomplished finally. Take a look." She swiftly unscrewed the muzzle, setting it on the table before Enlarging it with a gesture.

Harry slowly spun the metal cylinder on the wood, taking in the multitudes of Rune Arrays carved precisely into the Goblin Steel. Magic had obviously been used, likely in a similar manner; enlarging the muzzle, then using a laser pen to carve the Runes. The laser pens themselves were quite ingenious, having the battery and laser array of a large beam, minimised into pen size with magic. "Ah, you integrated the holes in the muzzle with the actual array itself! That's brilliant, Zae!"

The Dire Goblin's lips twitched slightly, which would be a proud smile on anyone else. "I knew you'd be impressed, ghu'ru. Can you tell me what the array does?" Her golden eyes flickered with affection.

He squinted at the muzzle again, looking inside and out, trailing his fingers over the carved lines. "It…keeps the velocity of the bullet…while…increasing the profile-the size of the bullet…by a magnitude of…thirteen." Harry whistled lowly, "Damn, Zael, that is some tight Rune Clustering."

Zael tapped the tips of her fingers together softly. "Small bullet goes in, large bullet goes out. Care to try?" She waved her hand, erecting a sound proof barrier over the doorway and gesturing at a wooden dummy on the far end of the room.

Harry grinned, shrinking the muzzle with his wand and screwing it back on the gun, taking one of the long, rectangular magazines and slipping it in before tapping it home. Approaching the bench, he called, "Clear the range!" He waited ten seconds, then chambered a round and switched the firing selector to Semi-auto. Shouldering the weapon, he shouted, "Firing!" Sighted, and squeezed the trigger.

The P90 kicked slightly into his shoulder, the actual firing of the weapon being reduced to a mere cough. The bullet itself ripped through the air with an echoing CRACK, and a melon-sized hole was blown through the dummys' chest.

Harry whistled, impressed. "To steal Saul's phrase: By Jesus, Merlin and John Moses Browning!" He gave the gun another look over, nodding as he grinned. "Bloody hell, Zae! This might be the most impressive thing you've made yet!"

Her lips twitched again, eyes glowing with satisfaction. "Indeed, ghu'ru. However, that is only one aspect of this weapon. Do you see the large Rune Array set into the stock?"

"I did," he nodded, switching the safety on and holding the weapon out. "I noticed it was different than the typical Noise and Kick Suppression Clusters, but I figured you would explain it to me and I enjoy hearing your lovely voice, Zae."

The fleeting hint of what could've been the ghost of a flush of pink touched her cheeks, then vanished just as quickly. "It's an Array I've been developing over the last couple of years. The exact design eluded me for some time, but to my shame I discovered that the key was a combination of Dw'arnen Rune Folding and Goblin Rune Carving. It's an Imbuing…Array. It can only be used with Ballistic Rounds. Cast a simple spell, such as the Water Charm, and see what happens. None of the Darker Spells, they will burn it out."

Arching an eyebrow, Harry pressed his thumb to the centre of the Array and whispered, "Aguamenti," then aimed and fired.

The bullet punched into the target but not through it, and the entrance wound began to gush with water.

Harry grinned a slow, almost sadistic grin. "I think I get what you're saying, Zae," he murmured, quickly casting the Ice Charm and firing another round.

The previous gushing hole froze with a crack, a spike of ice tearing the arm away from the dummy and trapping it halfway in ice. Harry waved his wand and vanished the ice while repairing the dummy, and started testing other spells.

The Stunning Spell turned the bullet into something resembling a blaster bolt from those movies Solomon insisted on watching every chance they had, and the readings from the dummy assured them it would act the same as the spell itself.

The Lightning Charm turned it into an electricity-spewing machine, allowing the rounds to chain lightning that stunned as well as adding extra piercing power.

The Fire Charm was much the same, though the Incendiary rounds would be better at burning demon flesh.

The Levitation Charm was interesting in that it took two bursts to levitate the dummy into the air, but it left it floating helplessly for a good ten seconds.

In general, any spell cast into the array would turn the bullets into miniature versions of it, occasionally to great effect.

Harry smirked and looked over at Zael, who blinked. "Defodio," he cast before firing.

The dummy disintegrated into wooden shards, leaving only its shins and feet intact.

"Allow me to reiterate: Bloody hell, Zae," he repeated, kissing the gun on the sight as he turned to the Dire Goblin, "This adds so much versatility and firepower to a single weapon! I can't imagine how effective these weapons are going to be tomorrow!"

Zael opened her mouth, and hesitated. "Ah…you see, given that the method is newly discovered, I would have to teach the Array to the others…and then we would have to gather all the firearms, melt them down and reforge them with the Dwarves…" She licked her lips and shrugged, slumping slightly. "It is simply not feasible."

Harry looked down at the P90. "I see," he murmured, "Then we'll have to find someone who needs it the most-"

"It cannot be used by anyone else!" Zael interjected, a note of panic in her voice and desperation in her eyes, "It is…designed with only you in mind. You will be leading the vanguard, such a weapon will serve best in your hands, ghu-Harry." It was the most emotion she'd ever shown, bar none.

The Last Potter softened, setting the weapon aside as he reached out, his hand resting on the back of her neck. "…There's something more to this, I suspect," he said softly, stroking the base of her skull, as he knelt, "What is it, Zae? You can tell me."

She sighed heavily and stepped against him, wrapping her arms around his body. "…This war will end tomorrow, one way or another," Zael whispered, burying her face against his shoulder. "I cannot be out there with you-" She stepped back and glared up at him, jabbing him in the chest with her finger, "-though I should-" then embraced him again. "-this way, part of me will be by your side on the field of battle, protecting your life and slaying your enemies…please, do not deny me this, Dyz'Ghu'ru."

Harry breathed in her familiar scent of gun oil, loam and vanilla, wrapping her in his arms. "I won't deny you this, Dyz'Ghu'bi," he replied, gently kissing her cheek. I really should get a Gobbledegook dictionary and find out what these words mean, none of the other Goblins will tell me, he thought, feeling her relax in her arms. "I really don't deny you that much, you know?"

She snorted. "You denied pleasuring me while I forged."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course I did, the forge was full of people at the time."

"They should look upon us enviously and lament their fate," Zael said firmly, stepping back from him, her golden eyes looking suspiciously damp. "Give me your armour, ghu'ru. I will ensure it is in perfect condition while you practise. Do not forget to bind the weapon to your blood and magic."

"I won't, ghu'bi," Harry replied, pretending not to notice as she wiped her eyes on sleeve as he retrieved what looked like an action figure from his pocket, handing it off to the Dire Goblin. She nodded and left him there. She was also still wearing his Ring Focus.

Sighing, Harry pressed The Elder Wand to his finger, silently cutting into the calloused skin until blood ran from his finger and down his palm. Turning the P90 around, he found her Maker's Mark, a joining of their two symbols: Hers, a circle with four triangular spikes like a compass that didn't point in the Cardinal Directions, cut through by Sowilo, shaped after the faded scar that marked his forehead and over his heart, connecting Northeast to Southwest.

Pressing his bloody finger against the symbol, he channelled his magic through it, the runes lighting up a deep blood red. He felt in his head more than heard a lock snap closed and the runes became a dull, rusted red.

After spending two hours practising with his new weapon, field-stripping, reloading and such, Harry finally called it a day. He found Zael standing over his armour, refreshing an array under the armpit with a laser pen, goggles covering her eyes. "You and the weapon are becoming one, yes?" She nodded as he set the weapon down on a nearby bench. "It is a special creation, the first of its kind, ghu'ru. Do you wish to name it?"

He examined the weapon again. It was compact, dangerous, and alluring in an exotic, slightly inhuman way. He had the perfect name for it. "I'll call it Zael." Harry smiled. "Now you'll really be at my side tomorrow."

The Dire Goblin herself blushed, and not in a subtle way. She flushed pink from the tips of her pointed ears down to the swell of her cleavage, the laser pen dropping from her fingers. She swallowed audibly, her golden eyes resembling molten gold from the heat in her gaze. "…When this Array is done, I will take this to your room and we will polish your armour together, ghu'ru."

Harry winked and made to leave the Armory. "Looking forward to it, ghu'bi."

A few minutes later, Harry sat down in the cantina, tapping his selection on the menu that was swiftly replaced with his food by a House-Elf. A sizable steak, seared to perfection, creamy mashed potatoes, a shredded vegetable medley and slice of treacle tart, everything he needed for a filling, satisfying meal. As he ate, he looked around at the soldiers gathered at their tables, eating, chatting and sharing in the camaraderie of those who knew they were going to war tomorrow, that some of those they were laughing with wouldn't survive to see tomorrow. He saw something oddly wonderful in the midst of all the death and chaos the Legion's invasion had brought.

Unity.

Wizards and Witches sat side-by-side with Muggles, Dwarves, Centaurs and Goblins. In the corner, a Half-Siren and a Half-Banshee crooned a duet, while a Wizard and Dhampyr slowly danced. Behind them, a Hag played a violin while a Veela played a harp. A table over, a Dwarf, a Goblin and Werewolf sat with a Muggle, a Squib and a Witch, playing a game and fondly ribbing each other as the cards were dealt. Each carried a Wand or Ring or magically-enhanced gun, and many of them were scarred. Some were missing eyes, replaced by enchanted glass or crystal; some lacked arms, legs, hands or feet, replaced by metal and wood prosthetics that articulated just as well as the original, thanks to magic.

The two worlds, all the different species and peoples coming together as friends, comrades and fellow warriors. Whatever tomorrow brought, Harry could at least be proud of that.

If only it hadn't taken a literal world-ending invasion to do it.

Mood thus tanked, Harry finished his meal and tucked into his dessert with a cup of tea to go with. Stretching as he stood and waving to a few of his squad, he strode off towards the barracks, feeling the need for a bath before hitting the sack. There weren't many in the corridor, though he did run across Solomon and Tina, an American Centaur, obviously heading for the chow hall after getting their arms and armour checked.

Tina's appearance had been a surprise, given that his experience with Centaurs at Hogwarts had left him with the impression that they were a bit more horse than man; even Firenze, the most human-looking Centaur he'd known, still had an inhuman tint to his skin. American Centaurs, conversely, were fully human from the hips up and horse all the way down. Tina herself had long blonde hair she kept in a ponytail, bright blue eyes and peach skin, with a decently muscular figure from her former family occupation as an Abraxan Rancher, and the lower body of a chestnut.

She also had the largest breasts he'd ever seen.

Harry didn't consider himself a man concerned with women's figures: his first crushes had all been slim, athletic types, but the first time he'd seen Tina, his eyes had been drawn to her chest as if Summoned. A question had sprung to his lips, but he didn't ask it, because he wasn't stupid.

"Damn, girl!" Solomon had whistled, "You got a heifer in your family tree somewhere?"

She had, naturally, punched him in the face.

They were also dating, and had been for nearly two years. "Evening, Harry," Tina greeted him warmly, a smile on her lips and an arm slung around Solomon's shoulders. "We were just headed for dinner, care to join?"

"No, thank you, I just finished my meal and I'm thinking of a bath," he replied, nodding. "Besides, I don't want to be a third wheel…again."

"You finished quick!" Solomon chimed in a waggle of his eyebrows, the side of his head resting against Tina's chest, given that she was a good foot and a half taller than him. "But what else would you expect from the Mighty Lightning Lad?"

Harry scowled. "I told you to stop calling me that, arsehole. I can still demote you to janitor, you know? Maybe I'll make Tina my number two, eh?" The first time Solomon had seen the matching scars on his chest and forehead, the other man had declared that he was obviously a superhero with his own branding ready to go.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" The American Wizard scoffed with a grin, "Maybe you want to ride her into battle, and other places-" The arm around his shoulders moved to around his neck, the Centaur squeezing his windpipe gently as he gagged loudly.

"Shut it!" Tina scowled, her cheeks darkening. "Why would you even say that?!"

"Just trying to get him used to the idea, your birthday's coming up-" He was silenced as the Centaur shoved his face into her bosom, muffling him quite handily.

"Ignore him," she said firmly, the tips of her ears bright pink.

"...Sure," Harry shrugged, "Remember to get some sleep tonight, yeah? Tomorrow's promising to be a long one-"

"'That's what she said,'" He and Tina said at the same time, as Solomon flashed them both a thumbs-up.

"-And we could use as much rest as we can get," Harry finished, running a hand through his hair.

The Texan nodded as Solomon melted into smoke and slipped out of her arms, reconstituting next to her. "Don't forget about yourself, Harry," she said, a fond smile on her lips, "We're going to need our fearless leader in the best shape to end this war." She stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

Harry manfully ignored the breasts his face was being sandwiched by and wrapped his arms around Tina. Being a Centaur, her body temperature was naturally higher than most, and her former physically-demanding life as a rancher of magical creatures combined with years of war fighting left her with a solid, muscular figure layered with soft flesh…all in all, she gave the best hugs. Even better than Molly Weasley.

"…He's gonna need to breathe at some point, you know?" Solomon pointed out a minute later, watching them embrace with a fond if small smile.

Tina stepped back, her cheeks blazing. "Right, I'll go save us some seats," she coughed, giving her boyfriend an apologetic smile before trotting by.

Harry cleared his throat. "You know it's not like that, right?" He asked, giving his friend a worried look, "She just gives the best hugs."

Solomon arched an eyebrow and pointed at his girlfriend's hindquarters as she walked away. "What're you, gay? I'd be insulted on her behalf and mine if it wasn't at least a half-chub 'like that.' Besides, I'm not dumb, Harry. She's enough woman for there to be basically no guy-on-guy contact in a devil's threesome."

The British Wizard sighed and pinched his nose. "Why is it always the sex jokes with you? Hell, the jokes in general?"

"I don't know if you've noticed or not, but we're kinda at war here," the American replied with a sardonic grin, "There's a lot of pressure riding on us. Pressure might make diamonds, but pressure also snaps minds like a troll trying to eat wafer cookies, especially when the world is riding on the result. If you grim sonsabitches aren't gonna chill the fuck out even a little, then I'm going to make you. If I gotta look like a sexpest or a jokester, then that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make." His grin widened. "Especially when I've got a girl with the best pillows to comfort me. Wink."

Harry grimaced, the scar on his chest twinging. "Keep the talk of sacrifices to a minimum, will you? I don't want anyone getting any ideas."

"Again, war," Solomon snorted, "A Heroic Sacrifice is sometimes the best thing a soldier can hope for. Dying knowing you've saved the lives of your comrades while destroying your enemies? Shit, that's better than dying for nothing…or worse, surviving. We've been at war for near a decade, what are all these soldiers gonna do when there's no more demons to kill? Throw the weapons they spent seven years mastering aside?" He shrugged. "Who knows? There's a comfort in surety, in knowing how you'll die…living, though. That's the hard part."

Harry's green eyes met Solomon's grey. The hair on his neck prickled as his friend, normally jovial and wearing a smile, met his gaze with a grim, level look, an expression that almost seemed alien on the American's face. "…Don't get any ideas," Harry said softly. "I've had enough people die for my sake. I don't need another."

Solomon smirked in a humorless, resigned way. "...You think there's a choice?" And then he left with a whistle.

Harry clenched his fists, the desire to punch his best friend running strong through his veins, but he relaxed with a sigh, spinning around and continuing to his room. "Merlin, a bath sounds perfect right about now," he muttered to himself, throwing up the entrance to his tent and stepping in..

…Only to find someone waiting for him. Two someones, even.

One was Fleur Delacour, formerly Weasley, in a set of heavenly white lingerie mostly comprised of silk and lace, hugging her perfect figure of breasts more than a handful, a trim athletic stomach, a rear that was plush and firm at the same time and legs so long and smooth that seemed to stretch on forever, all topped with a head of long silver hair and face that would make a Succubus swoon. Even the enchanted sapphire that replaced her right eye only added a hint of savage exoticness to her beauty.

The other was Zael, who was completely naked. She had lean, muscular arms, a flat stomach with prominent abdominal muscles, and an hourglass figure of large, perky breasts and thick muscular thighs to go with her thick muscular rear. She was all woman in a compact, four-foot package.

It would've been a very arousing sight if the two weren't currently rolling around on his bed trying to kill each other.

"I was here first," Zael growled, trying to grapple Fleur into an arm bar while her nails carved thankfully bloodless divots in the Veela's skin. "My Ghu'ru and I have no need for a whore."

"Then leave and find someone who likes plowing little girls!" Fleur snarled back, holding the shorter woman off with one hand while trying to strangle her with the other.

Harry cleared his throat, and the two women looked over at him. "What's all this, then?" He asked, as if he didn't know.

"Ah, amor, I was just getting rid of this little pest-" The Veela shrieked as the Dire Goblin took advantage of her distraction and bit her on the flesh of her breast. They rolled around on the bedspread, again trying to kill each other.

"Right," he muttered, shedding his coat and hanging it from a rack, "You two settle your differences, I'm going to take a bath. Maybe you'll even finish in time to join me?"

"Be there in a minute-gghk!" Zael tried to call, only for Fleur to get her in a sleeper hold.

Shaking his head, Harry stepped into the bathroom of his magical tent. It was a large room with a marble floor that dipped into the ground, columns of stone in the corners and paintings of mermaids (Greek ones, thankfully, like the one that had been in the Prefect's Bath at Hogwarts) and the ocean on the walls. A few different taps sat at one end, with runes for comfort and utility along the rim, another thing he loved magic for. Had they been all-Muggle, he'd be lucky to get a private shower somewhere. As it was, his private bath was a bit more ornate than the others, a gift from the Grecian Merfolk he'd helped when closing the Mediterranean Demon Gate, along with some very useful underwater spells. And a lot of shampoo.

Another thing he was quite thankful for: the bath was full of water, and the reason was sitting at the far end, relaxing in the steaming pool with a smile on her scarred face. "Hey Harry," Lavender Brown greeted him with a flirty wave, leaning back against the rim of the tub, a film of white bubbles clinging to her neck and below, "I was hoping you'd come by, the seats in here are mighty uncomfortable."

Harry snorted at the fabrication, kicking his boots and socks off. "How'd you get by the wildcats at the gate, Lav?" He could feel her eyes on him as he shed his clothes, shucking them into a hamper where a House Elf would launder them.

She chuckled, cupping a handful of water to splash on her face. "I just walked right by and they didn't even notice me. Though Dir'Zael had Fleur in a triangle choke, so that probably helped." She slicked her hair back from her face, licking her lips as Harry shed his final articles and stepped under a shower head. "If those two didn't hate each other, I bet the sex would be devastating."

It hadn't been the first time Fleur and Zael had tried to surprise him in bed and ran into each other, and each time they'd gone straight for the throat. They said it was an 'incompatibility of natural magic,' something about how Goblins in general were magically inclined to rock and stone while Veela were inclined to air and fire and never the two will meet. They'd keep it superficial, though, the last time they'd fought and ended up in medical he'd threatened to cut them off, so they'd settled on keeping it to 'trying' to kill each other.

"If only," Harry muttered, taking his time soaping up under the hot spray of the shower. When he'd been a young, specky git, Quidditch and taking all the flights of stairs had done his undernourished body good, along with the frequent feasts. But a year of near-starvation and fighting, followed by seven years of non-stop war had honed his body into a weapon. Scarred, wiry and corded with swift, powerful muscle bolstered by a regimen of potions and square meals had left him with a warrior's body, one that screamed danger and was only enhanced by his emerald green eyes. It had come from necessity, but Harry was proud of what he'd forged himself into.

Rinsing the soap from his hair, Harry shut off the shower with a wave of his hand and stepped towards the bath. At the far end, Lavender stood up from the water, suds trailing down her shapely figure as desire shown boldly in her amber eyes. She stepped forward to meet him, kissing him firmly and clasping him in her arms. He cupped her scarred cheek, calloused fingers tracing the silvery scars that descended down her neck, across her shoulder and ended near her chest, leaning into her lips as his tongue slipped between to twist with hers.

He pressed her back against the rim of the tub, his arousal insistently throbbing against her stomach. Lavender leaned back, her eyes sparkling as she sat on the edge, legs spread invitingly. Harry smiled and touched a rune cluster on the bath, one that made the soap and water quite conducive to lovemaking. The Mermaids who had taught him their runes had been very grateful.

He grabbed her by the hips and pulled himself to her with a groan, losing himself to the noise of her gasps and moans, the clap of flesh and splashing of water.

Whatever tomorrow would bring would wait until tomorrow.

A/N: So, here it is: my new Harry Potter story! I've had it in mind for years, ever since I read Wizard Runemaster by plums and more recently, Metagaming? By Noodlehammer. As much as I enjoyed both of those stories, there were issues I had with them, WR being the most pertinent. Still a good story, still one of my favorites, but not perfect. I will now explain why with small explanations or mini-rants in subsequent chapters.

1: The War (?): In WR, the whole Legion Invasion is pretty much glossed over in about three or four paragraphs, only really saying that a lot of people died including the ladies involved with Harry. There's also not a whole lot of detail about how things went down, how the world reacted or, well…much of anything, just that Legion was pushed back somehow. Not that I'm saying brevity's a bad thing, mind, it's going to take me a few chapters to get to the WoW part of this HP/WoW crossover because I'm going to go into detail about the real Final Battle, pushing back the Legion and all that fun stuff, as well as the aftermath.

It'll also be the first 'war' scene I've really written, and you'll get to see why the whole 'WARMAGE' thing's been hyped in the story, and by the title itself.

I also really wanted to write a Combined Forces kinda thing, where Earth as a whole is threatened, so everyone has to put aside old grudges to focus on beating back the invaders that want to practically eat their planet, frankly because stories where that doesn't happen are pretty stupid. It's the end of the world, guys. Maybe pack it in until it isn't, eh?

And yeah, I did the whole 'Runes are used to enchant' thing that's fanon, but I also did it because the whole 'Ancient Runes is just translating old languages' is really fucking lame…as is a quite a bit of the 'flavor' JK sprinkled onto canon after the fact. Which makes some sense to me, I mean…

She is British.

Also also, I made the entire 'Gobbledygook' words and phrases up on the spot, so here's a glossary for you:

Za'brstka: lit.- "This is suitable in its current state." translation- "This satisfies."

Ki'ryn: lit.- "This weapon shall slay many enemies." translation- "This is good."

Bzi'ryn: lit.- "This weapon shall slay a great many enemies." translation- "This is very good."

Ghu'ru: lit.- "?" translation- "?"

Ghu'bi: lit.- "?" translation- "?" (seems to be a term of endearment)

Brstk: lit.- "This is suitable." translation- "This is alright."

Tu'cik: lit.- "At this current moment in time." translation- "For now."

Kri'nsk: lit.- "This brings me great pleasure and I will think about this later while doing something inappropriate for this conversation." translation- "I like this a lot."

Dw'arnen: lit.- "The other short beings who live under the earth as we do but are much less fearsome." translation- "Dwarves/Dwarven."

Dyz'Ghu'ru: lit.- "?" translation- "?" (a serious term of endearment)

Dyz'Ghu'bi: lit.- "?" translation- "?"

I'll be adding more if I want to.

Lastly, the last part with Fleur, Zael and Lavender. This is actually a fairly serious thing and not just to go 'hehehe Harry's gonna get laid!' In context, they've been at war for nearly a decade, lost almost all of the people they loved, Bill for Fleur and Ginny, Hermione, Ron and…uh, mostly everyone for Harry. As far as they know, that night could be their last. Sex and such is also going to play a big part in the story, but the war and eventually the adventure are the most important aspects.

I'm also going to ignore Shadowlands and every expansion after that for what I feel should be obvious reasons, and I reserve the right to change shit at will in the others.

NS: Well…obvious to anyone who's played WoW. Unlike me.

Big thanks to NSG as usual for being a sound board, beta and all that good shit. Why don't you go check him out, I hear he just updated?

Thanks to all my Patrons who've been supporting me! If you'd like to do the same, you can find me on P atreon under Soleneus, or join my Discord! Patrons get to read the chapters a week before anyone else, which right now include: SWTOE and DxM chapter 4! If not, then I'm just glad you stopped by to read, review and all that jazz.

Stay Awesome.

~Soleneus

P.S.: The P90 is cool, and everyone who says otherwise is lame.

Speaking of, I've always wanted to see a story where magic and mundane intermix to create cool shit, like guns with technically infinite ammo or armor that's basically Power Armor but magic, plus gadgets and shit. You don't really get to see enough of those these days, it's always 'magic is superior' or 'guns are superior' but rarely both. Did I mention gadgets?

I like gadgets.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and Happy Holidays!

bitches

Stay Awesome Some More.

~still Soleneus