And here we are once again, another two weeks, another chapter for Stormreaver. Having done the math, the Hogwarts arc will end the 15th of May (on chapter 51), due to the every other week nature of posting. While I know that seems a long time for those who are avidly awaiting the return to Azeroth, trust me, there are some exiting things planned before then, at least in my humble opinion, or perhaps not so humble... the time will fly as needed, so just enjoy the ride as we go, and mark the calendar for that wonderful day when we enter the next arc of the story.

For those who are worried about whether I will suddenly stop positing like many other Warcraft-based stories, I will reveal that in terms of completed chapters waiting to post, I am up to chapter 66, so no, we have plenty of material to continue positing consistently for months to come, indeed the rest of 2018 at the rate of posting... and in thinking about that just wow, I have a year's worth of material ready for this story. I fully anticipated that this will be a very long project, stretching for quite a long time as I cover the plots that I wished to, until we reach the end I had foresaw for Nobu'tan and the others, so look forward to reading about this story for a great amount of time to come, barring tragedy or some other unforeseeable event.

Chapter Forty Seven

Beautiful Passion

After the immediate threat of Teg'Ramm dying had passed, he had all but force Lucius to allow him to return to Nobu'tan's side, which the warlock leader had felt extremely foolish, but Nobu'tan was touched by the show of intense loyalty from one whom he considered a very close friend and confidant.

For two weeks the ogre lay in the tent, continuing to recover from the near fatal attack that the Ministry wizards had inflicted upon him trying to get at the young warlock, and still he raged and fumed every time he thought about it. He had already worked himself nearly into the same dire state just trying to viciously escape from the grounds and go straight to the Ministry to attack in person, but to no avail, the magic of the Goblet prevented him from so much as thinking of leaving the school grounds while the Tournament was in progress for such a length of time without a fresh burst of pain. It probably didn't help that Nobu'tan had little intentions of returning if such an event were to occur.

At least the fools in charge of the wizarding government had finally gotten through their tiny minds that they weren't going to take him by force, and had stopped trying to send people after the fifth attack or so, proceeding after the one in which Teg'Ramm was injured. Nobu'tan had met each one head on, utilizing bursts of Fel magic mixed with his own rage, and torn them to pieces every time. Currently he was supporting a sprained arm from one such attack, but it was already recovering due to the heavy flux of demonic energy that flowed through him on a daily basis. The one positive thing that came with touching the powers of the Arcane, or the Fel, was the massive regeneration bonus to injuries, which alone made it worth the cost in Nobu'tan's mind.

Still, as Nobu'tan paced the inside of his tent, staying well away from the still recovering ogre magi, his eyes kept drifting back to the thrice damned golden egg that represented his entanglement with this ever increasing irritant of a Tournament.

He had opened it, only once, and the screeching that had followed was more than enough for him to slam it shut again and never consider anything regarding it for a great deal of time. But now, knowing that the very lives of his servants were on the line, if these vile wizards were so keen on preventing his escape, he would have to try his hardest to actually finish these tasks as quickly as possible, so as to minimize his personal exposure to the dangerous elements that they represented.

Still, their backing off gave him a small window to breathe, but Nobu'tan felt more than assured that they were just waiting for the right time to strike again, likely after the Tournament was officially over, and they could physically removed him from the grounds without killing him, not that that had stopped them before. Nobu'tan had the feeling that, for once, Dumbledore had been on his side; however limited, in persuading the fools that they couldn't take him alive so long as the Tournament was underway, small mercy to them that it was.

Although, he didn't want to open the screaming egg once more inside the tent, as it would disturb his closest servant and practically child, so Nobu'tan summoned one of the other ogre magi, whose names he had still yet to actually learn, and took the egg out across the grounds, well away from his tent and the protections it afforded. It was a small risk, but if it gave him any advantage to prepare for this ludicrous task, so be it.

Sitting on a large stone by the lake where the ship, which he learned belonged to Durmstrang, Nobu'tan took a deep breath and opened the egg. The piercing wail began immediate once more, ringing out across the rather lonely grounds, echoing everywhere and infuriating the warlock. What was there to learn from such a ridicules sound? Throwing the egg down in a heap, he snapped at the ogre, and it kicked the golden near-sphere as hard as it could, sending the still screaming object far out into the water, where it landed with a mighty splash.

Nobu'tan was so irritated he almost didn't hear the subtle change as soon as the egg's interior made contact with the water, but he managed to notice the screaming stop and change to something melodic as soon as it submerged.

He swore however, as now the egg that was his clue was sinking to the bottom of the lake, with whatever magical creatures might have been living there. As soon as he figured out how to hear it, he had lost it.

"Shall we retrieve it, master?" the ogre asked, seeing the frustration on the warlock's face.

Knowing that the ogre magi would go through on his invitation, despite swimming like a rock, Nobu'tan shook his head. "I'll go after it myself," he said reassuringly, "stand watch here, and make sure I return. If I'm not back within an hour, send demons after me. Voidwalkers can swim the best out of our cadre of choices, and they lack the need to breathe."

"Yes Master," the ogre's other head replied. Nobu'tan didn't bother removing any of his clothing, as there was a powerful skill that he had learned through the fel that would allow him to stay indefinitely underwater if need be.

Wading in up to his shoulders, Nobu'tan wove the Fel magic, drawing the oxygen in the air into his lungs, and forcefully replenishing it with the demonic magic. If there was a price for this skill, he was not yet aware of it, although he presumed that like most demonic magic there was some sort of payment that would be due. Still, he walked on, soon swimming through the gloomy water, able to hold his breath in his lungs as long as he needed to and search for the infuriating egg.

Over beds of kelp and along ridges of sharp rocks he swam, keen to stay away from anywhere that creatures could easily be hiding, waiting to strike at the unaware. It wasn't that he was afraid, but more an unwillingness to expend more energy than he needed over the useless bauble.

Nobu'tan could see the shadow of the Durmstrang ship in the distance, and knew that from its position the egg had landed somewhere far to the right of it, and closer to the bank. Heading in that direction, he started to hear faint singing, and followed it like a beacon.

Encompassed by the Fel as he was, what creatures he did see were quick to swim in the opposite direction, almost overtaken by fright at his presence. But Nobu'tan knew that anything larger than a standard fish wouldn't be so easily frightened, and so he kept himself on guard, just in case he encountered something that was willing to try and drive him away.

Coming up over a small rise, Nobu'tan looked down to where the singing was heard, and spotted the small glint of gold, heavily shrouded by the lack of light this deep in the murky lake. Unfortunately it wasn't alone. Naturally that song had drawn other creatures to the egg, and Nobu'tan almost wanted to hurt himself when he spotted the aquatic humanoids that were only known as Merfolk to the wizards.

Carrying coral weaponry and trinkets, they swam in slow circles around the egg, as though enchanted by the melody. Nobu'tan was cautious, and only after studying how many where were, and their sleek movements through the water, judging how powerful each would be if he had to fight them, he slowly approached, hands empty to show himself as nonthreatening as possible.

He knew that he was at a massive disadvantage in the water rather than out of it, as while Felfire would burn easily here, the incantations would be harder to speak correctly when he was more or less unable to hear them, so he wished to avoid confrontation if possible.

The Merpeople saw him coming from a long way off, but rather than scatter or even charge, they moved off to one side, watching neutrally as Nobu'tan approached his egg. If anything, they seemed to have knowing smirks and smiles upon seeing him, and Nobu'tan greatly suspected that they had something to do with the task, only confirmed when he bothered to actually pay attention to the song that the egg was playing on a continued loop.

'Come seek us where our voices sound… We cannot sing above the ground… And while you're searching ponder this: We've taken what you'll sorely miss… An hour long you'll have to look… and to recover what we took… But past an hour, the prospect's black… Too late, it's gone, it won't come back…'

Nobu'tan didn't know whether to laugh or scream at the entirety of this new madness. Firstly, how could the old man dare to think he'd be capable of taking anything of importance to him, let alone that he'd allow such an injustice to transpire, unless…

And once he had his reason, Nobu'tan departed, leaving the egg behind, as it was no longer unneeded, and swam straight for the surface, allowing Fel flames to accent his flight upward. If he was right, then his followers were under threat of becoming part of this game, and he would do all in his power to not allow that. As much as he didn't like it, he needed their alliances, and if they thought he couldn't protect them, then his influence would slip over them.

Rocketing out of the water, Nobu'tan tried something absolutely crazy. Igniting Felfire from both his hands and his booted feet, he launched himself into the air, propelled solely by his rage and the power of the demonic fire. The ogre magi on the bank looked on in awe as Nobu'tan got adjusted to the strange sensation, and then directed himself like an arrow toward the front of the castle. He had an old man to kill, if needs be, and a sickening game to end.

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Albus was working at his desk when Fawkes gave out a worried cry, starling him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see the phoenix at the window. Beyond that he could see a streak of flame in the direction of the lake, coming directly at the castle. The warning wards alerted him at that point of Fel magic at work, and Albus knew that there could only be one so proficient. "So it begins…"

Standing and rushing like the bats of Hades were behind him, rather than coming directly at his gates, Albus took several passages only know to him, and possible the Weasley twins, and managed to arrive at the front doors to Hogwarts moments before the fiery projectile landed with a crash at the front steps.

Seeing instantly that it was Nobu'tan himself, Albus instantly went on the defensive, one hand drawing the arcane to him while the other grasped the Elder Wand in his robes, although he was reluctant to draw it.

"You… dare…" the warlock seethed, rising to his full height, and Albus' eyes widened when he saw the Fel green magic leaking from the warlock's hands and eyes. The boy was already completely soaked with the tainted magic, and ready for battle. Shimmering arcane shields snapped into place even as the torrent of life devouring magic was unleashed, and Albus knew that this could very well be the battle that they had all been waiting for with horrid dread.

"My followers!" Nobu'tan roared, swinging back and force as he hurled balls of Felflame at the Headmaster of the school, and Albus knew that this would quickly draw the attention of others throughout the castle, so he either needed to push Nobu'tan out into the grounds, or halt the confrontation if he could.

But the fury before him was too powerful for his skill in the Arcane alone, despite what acceleration in knowledge he had attained, and quickly the Fel was overpowering his shield, and burning his arms and hands.

He made the decision, and drew the Elder Wand. Lightning crackled at the tip as the Rod of Destiny sang for battle, and with a heavy sigh Albus granted it the permission to go about its best skill. Curses and hexes flew from the tip, shields enveloped him, and the chant of many dead wielders of the cursed wand rang throughout his mind.

Whatever fury and anger that Nobu'tan possessed, it would do little against the rightful master of the Death Stick, and as much as Albus wanted to preserve the life of the son of his dear friends, he had to weigh the lives of many others before it.

Nobu'tan was blasted back, his own Fel shields taking the brunt of the initial assault, and landed heavily on the grounds of the castle. Albus could already sense, his awareness magnified by the power of the wand, that the boy's allies were all surging to their master's rescue, within and without the castle, and he could not allow this to occur. A wave of the wand and the gates of Hogwarts slammed shut, force of magic alone holding them barred, while a massive trench of earth started to rise around them, forming a walled arena if they were to have their final duel here and now.

"Nobu'tan, is there truly the need for such violence…?" Albus said calmly, hoping beyond hope that the boy wasn't yet beyond reason. "I suspect that you've deduced what the second task entails, and are righteously angry that we would purposely put anyone in harm's way… Am I right?"

The answer was another wave of Felfire, partially absorbed by the powerful shields of the Elder Wand, and the rest rebuffed so that the warlock himself was burned in several places by his own spells. "The wording was not of my choice, and no one will be placed in true danger, it is merely a contest to see who can riddle out what means most to them, and if they can prepare adequately in the two months allotted to them…" Albus continued, praying to the powers that be that he could sooth the warlock's temper, so much like Lily's in the defense of others, yet so unlike her in its vengeful nature.

It seemed that that would not be the case, however, as Nobu'tan was not deterred from his aggression, and continuing to try and speak rationally to him seemed to only exacerbate the situation. Albus sighed, even as he sidestepped another blast of flames, and settled on the stratagem that he ought to have opened up with. Quickly weaving the power of the Arcane together with the might of the Elder Wand, Albus hurriedly bound the wards to lock Nobu'tan's connection of the strength and rage of the Legion.

And not a moment too soon, as Nobu'tan's next spell seemed to have been something potentially massive, but due to Albus' lock it came as more of a waft of sparks rather than the torrent of fire that it once was. Nobu'tan was taken aback by the surprising difficulty that his magic suddenly experienced.

"Wha… what have you done?!" he gaped, trying to attack several more times, but his spells growing substantially weaker as what limited energy he could tap into dwindled.

Albus stood back a few steps, fully aware of the potential that the boy would grow even more violent, "I've stripped you of your Fel magic, you cannot access it ever again," Albus said, cringing inwardly at the lie, but hoping that the sharp shock would reawaken the kindness that he just knew that was sleeping deep within the boy.

"Do you realize what you've done?!" Nobu'tan screamed, charging Albus physically. Albus only had time to stow away the Elder Wand, and therefore was unable to fully brace himself from the bodily contact, although he merely staggered back and didn't fall as the boy swung and kicked, and even tried to bite the far older wizard.

"I will not fight you this way," Albus said, struggling to maintain control of the boy as he flailed at him, all thoughts of dignity or magic forgotten, "I will not let the Legion win this world, or your soul, I owe your biological parents too much for that."

Albus hissed at that point when Nobu'tan's teeth found purchase on his flesh and a reflexive blast of arcane magic sent the boy hurtling backward. Looking at the bleeding wound, Albus wondered what sort of guardian would tolerate; even encourage such methods of fighting. "Surely there is something we can do?" he asked aloud, more to himself.

"You think that this allows you to win so easily, old man?" Nobu'tan said, rising to his feet once again, decorum and dignity returning after his brief bout of madness. "The Legion will find a way, you've only guaranteed your death alongside your precious world. I will kill you in the end…"

"IS THAT TRULY WHAT YOU WANT?!" Albus bellowed, extreme patience finally wearing thin once again, and the magic at his command made the ground quake momentarily in his exhaustion from the duel. "To kill me?! I could have sworn your goal only ever was returning to this world that you claim as home. Why can we not help you?! Let us aid you in returning there peacefully, why must our world suffer in exchange?!"

"You could never understand," Nobu'tan said, turning to look away from Albus, "There is no other way, not now at least."

"Then I suppose, until you see differently, we remain as always, on the opposite side of this fight…" Albus summarized. The urge to end this budding war now was present, but he could not, would not, bring himself to kill such a young man. Better his magic bound and kept confined at the school for the time being. Without the magic of the Fel, he had no means of sending for his followers at the least.

Lowering the walls that surrounded them, Albus turned away, "I will not give up on you just yet, Nobu'tan. There may yet be some good left in you, some small bit that the Legion and their minions have not yet seared away."

And with that he left him there on the grounds. Alastor and Severus were both waiting for him just inside the magically barred doors, looking inquisitively at the soot and bloodstains on Albus' robes, but the Headmaster just shook his head silently, limping slightly as he returned to his office. Poppy might want to have him checked out, but there was no need for such a fuss over him, as Fawkes would see to anything that was actually life threatening.

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Teg'Ramm waited in the darkness of his Master's tent, his breathing growing stronger by the day. Both minds, through their limited magical connect had had much to ponder about, such as the human man who ought to have been their enemy healing him in the most dire moment, preventing what the ogre mage had presumed to be his death.

But an oath of eternal loyalty to Nobu'tan in exchange for his life, it was not something that he had expected such a one to demand as payment. Naturally, due to the honor that was showed him from one who was his enemy, Teg'Ramm was duty bound to keep the oath, and would stand by Nobu'tan to the end of his days, as a protector and even friend if such a thing were possible.

Before, the ogre mage would not have considered that his Master had cared so much for him, but the frantic look in his eyes when he had driven away their foes and returned to him had said all that needed to be said. Nobu'tan may call them minions and tools, but in his heart, still very human despite his training, they were much more to the young human boy. And it was that loyalty that had sealed Teg'Ramm's pledge to keep the young warlock safe.

Therefore, when his master entered the tent and Teg'Ramm could barely feel his presence in Fel magic, he grew considerably worried. That the boy looked infuriated beyond measure in addition caused him to once more attempt the simple act of sitting up, carefully shifting his bulk to accommodate the massive chest wound that was already starting to scar.

"No, you lay there like you need to," Nobu'tan barked, and Teg'Ramm ignored him, needing to have a clear line of sight to see what was going on. The young master was pacing dangerously, lashing out at stray objects that were in his way.

"What happened?" Teg demanded to know, and Ramm watched carefully as the young warlock stuttered in his pacing and froze.

"It's nothing that can't be reversed… it has to be." the young human said unconvincingly, and the ogre mage reached out through the magic of the Fel, trying to connect with his master and ascertain the truth, but found his way blocked, like trying to walk through an exceedingly narrow passage.

"Tell us the truth…" Ramm added.

Nobu'tan sighed wearily, looking back at them both, "You can be quite insufferable when you're like this, you know that? Fine…" he took a deep breath, "I discovered that Dumbledore plans to use some of my minions within the castle as part of the next task, and confronted him…"

The ogre mage hissed as his chest stung unexpectedly, as he had attempted to flinch back at the thought of his master fighting with the Archmage and powerful wizard so early, "You know we're not ready to face him yet, why did you do something so foolish?" Teg questioned, and the warlock's eyes flashed dangerously, tiny pinpricks of red within the emerald green.

"He restricted your ability in the Fel…" Ramm concluded, understanding much more than the boy was letting on.

"Or at least he has tried to…" Nobu'tan responded, allowing small sparks of green fire flare in his hand. "I believe the spell was meant to sever the connection completely, but I am too strong for it to work, and therefore it has a weakness that I can exploit."

"And this?" Teg continued, gesturing to the dirty and bloodied robes that the boy was wearing.

"I had little choice, he took away my main weapon, and I had to distract him from trying to take the Arcane from me as well… I may also have been a tad furious and lost sense of myself…" Nobu'tan admitted, looking for all his power like the small human child he was.

"So what do we do to rectify it?" Ramm questioned.

"I have been planning such a thing even now, and I already have a few ideas, but the issue is that I am more than sure that Dumbledore used the Elder Wand to cast it, hence why it had such an effect on one as powerful as myself. There are some rituals that I can perform, but I would require more warlocks and some important tools that are currently locked away at Malfoy Manor…"

"And you can't open Fel Portals with the limitation?" Teg surmised.

"Yes…" Nobu'tan admitted, "but there is the fact that I still have full access to the Arcane, in the hopes such as this that the old man would forget that I too am a powerful mage. The Arcane has access to making portals after a different fashion, but the problem is that they are one way only."

Teg and Ramm both understood the problems immediately. If the portal was only one way, and Nobu'tan couldn't leave the grounds due to the magic of the Goblet of Fire, then he could only send things away from Hogwarts, not back.

"Then you portal someone there to inform them of what we need, and we use the ritual of summoning to bring them all back at once…" Teg suggested, "There are five beings here that can use the Fel, which is more than enough for that particular ritual."

Nobu'tan paused, suddenly smirking at the thought. "Yes, it would be an effective workaround to gather what I need, and more guards for when the Ministry attempts to intervene, as they are sure to quickly learn of the fight between me and their esteemed Headmaster."

"We agree," Ramm said, with a look at Teg, "pulling more warriors here, that the wizards are at least aware of would be wisest. Perhaps the Fel centaurs, as this Headmaster is already aware that they exist, just not what their full powers are…"

"Perfect suggestion, my apprentice," Nobu'tan praised, and Teg'Ramm felt a sort of lightness in his body at the words of his master. The warlock had yet to actually name someone as his apprentice, officially, as he was governing teaching over all of the warlocks, so for that blessed title to fall upon him was the highest of honors.

"I will send one of the ogre magi there now, so that we may begin gathering materials." Nobu'tan said, but there were sounds of shifting outside, and a small eye of Kil'rogg flew through the tent, the signal that someone was coming. "Why can't these blasted wizards leave me be…" Nobu'tan said angrily, before striding to the tent entrance and waiting for whomever it was to arrive.

The diminutive wizard was something that Teg'Ramm had never seen before, some mix of human and some stunted creature with sharp features, but the way that his master relaxed informed him that the man was no threat to them as of now.

"Professor Flitwick, what may I do for you?" Nobu'tan asked congenially, although the annoyance at the interruption was still quite noted.

"Oh no, I am perfectly well my boy," the small teacher replied, "I have been sent, as your… ahem, former Head of House, to inform you of the Yule Ball that will be commencing in the month of December, as part of the Tournament, and that the Champions of the Tournament are required to attend… with dates…"

"Dates?" the warlock responded questioningly, and Teg'Ramm shifted slowly to see his master's face better. The wizard noticed him for the first time, and looked momentarily shocked to see the massive ogre so close, but relaxed after a moment, "Oh, you're the one that was gravely injured trying to protect Mr. Potter… well, there are many of us at the castle that praise you for your heroism my good… um… troll? I am not sure what your race call themselves…"

"We are ogres," Teg'Ramm replied, "and those of us that serve the master are the elite ogre magi, and it was an honor to protect my lord…"

"I see," Professor Flitwick replied, before returning his attention to Nobu'tan, "Yes Mr. Potter, a date. You must escort another person to this Ball, as it is in the foremost, a dance. Dress robes are mandatory, but given your current circumstances, I would wear whatever you have that is best for a fancy affair, and call it good enough."

"I'll consider it…" Nobu'tan replied, a genuine smile on his face for the first time in quite a while that Teg'Ramm had witnessed, and ushered the small Professor from the tent. "Thank you for the update, and for your time Professor."

"No trouble at all…" the man was saying as they left Teg'Ramm's line of sight, and gradually grew faint as they departed. Nobu'tan soon returned however, having only seen the wizard to the edge of the ward line, "Naturally, just one more thing to complicate this frustrating state of affairs. I'll have to send word to Lucius to prepare something for me to wear on that day as well, and see to finding someone appropriate to escort, who can also substitute as a protector while I am in a weakened state. Needless to say we will not be getting to the ritual until after this Ball I suppose, factoring in time to research exactly how much power to use and so forth…"

They stayed talking about their plans for some time that day, and Teg'Ramm enjoyed having the time to actually be there, in a position far different than just one other of the warlock's minions, more of a confidant and advisor for once, that a small part of the ogre mage hoped that it would never end.

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Lucius was quite surprised at several of the specific commands that came with the most recent batch of news from Lord Nobu'tan at Hogwarts. not only was he requesting more of his allies to come through a summoning portal to shore up defenses now that his leading ogre mage was injured, but there were quite a number of implements and magical reagents that he requested, as well as a very specified custom set of dress robes, in a style quite unheard of to the Pureblood lord.

Nevertheless, not only were the designs intriguing enough that Lucius ordered a second set of them for himself, albeit slightly different from their personal tailors, but he obeyed the requests with all haste, having everything put together well before the two week deadline for the ritual to commence. Why the boy hadn't just opened another of his Fel gateways Lucius was not aware, but figured it had something to do with Dumbledore and his constant wariness over the usage of Fel magic at his school.

Edgran, leader of the Fel-touched centaur, which were formerly of the forbidden forest outside Hogwarts, was eager for his tribe to be of service to the warlock, and had gathered many of his warriors and mystics, who were slowly learning the arts of Fel magic without assistance from any of the warlocks, an act that Lucius felt that Nobu'tan would find extremely amusing and personally seek to tutor them to even more potential.

Adding to that that they all were familiar with the energies around Hogwarts and the territory, it was a suitable match to sent them to aid his Lord, and Lucius gladly loaded each of the massive centaur warriors with everything they would take and more in way of provisions.

It was surprising, but after embracing the gifts of the Fel, the horse-men were far more willing to engage with humans, on both peaceful and warlike fronts. Lucius rarely had to activate muggle repelling defenses when those that lived out around his estate's edges got too close to the woods that he owned anymore, as the rumors of dark spirits and people vanishing into the trees were doing an excellent job in dissuading the lesser humans from coming near.

On the appointed day, everything was gathered together at the location that Nobu'tan had specified would be the spot their portal opened, and Lucius gladly waited to see this ritual actually performed. Naturally he knew the rites and incantations for such a summoning portal, but they had had no need to ever use it with Nobu'tan's ability to make gateways between locations so easily, so it would be interesting to know what it felt like, for future reference.

At the appointed time, Lucius paused in speaking to Edgran, and together the pair turned as there was a distinct shift in the air, a touch of Fel magic that made Lucius recall the freshness of the Dark Magic when he first connected to it. The rift opened, like a looming shadow that tore open space and time, and energizing those blessed to know its magic.

"The time for our departure is now, Lucius," Edgran said, the regality of his forebears still rather engrained into him from his times learning as a young warrior of his tribe, "until the next time our paths cross."

"Yes, until the next time," Lucius replied as the centaur turned his massive and mutated body toward the portal, and strode purposefully through it, followed one by one by the rest of his tribe's warriors that had been summoned for this excursion. Lucius actually felt a tad of remorse that he would not be able to converse with the quite intelligent being for a time. They had had such interesting talks, comparing cultures and other ideals in a purely intellectual manner that he rarely had experienced even with fellow wizards.

Needless to say, Lucius no longer viewed the creatures as less than human, and respected their concepts as well founded and practiced traditions, much like those of the Purebloods that he fought so hard to preserve with the advent of so many Muggleborn witches and wizards, who always came flocking into their society with thoughts of revolution and change, destroying what they personally disagreed with and 'enlightening' their society with the muggle perspective.

Not to even begin to mention that now his job in planning the securing of Stonehenge was now just that much more difficult, as the Centaur had played integral roles in securing the site and maintaining their control of it, and it was now possible that their numbers would be reduced in any potential attack that Nobu'tan was possible to encounter at the school and fortress of their primary hinderance.

Alas, there was naught that he could do regarding the choices of his new Lord, and Nobu'tan's protection was paramount anyway, so that was the best choice for them to send Edgran and his people.

Watching the last of the Fel centaur disappear off to the school via the ritual, he wondered if it would break propriety to attend the Yule Ball with Narcissa, and just see how Nobu'tan was getting along at this present moment. As one of the school governors, he was entitled still to attend any function or festivity that the school held, for inspection purposes, but it was also the perfect excuse to now have to think of something special for his wife at Yule, as she wanted more than anything to see her son, and with the Tournament none of the warlocks had elected to leave the school while Nobu'tan was prisoner there.

Yes, a perfect opportunity. Let Dumbledore think he was involved, the old man probable already knew for a surety that Lucius was assisting the warlock is some fashion, but without solid proof what was he to do regarding it?

Lucius almost laughed aloud to himself as he turned to go back inside his manor, and draft some letters announcing his and his wife's attendance to the Ball.

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Hermione, among all other girls at Hogwarts, were ecstatic that the Yule Ball was being held. It was a time that they could allow themselves to truly become women, and dress the part, as the school robes were rather uniform and closely matches what the boys wore, aside from their skirts versus the boy's trousers. But times as they were in Wizarding Britain, she had come to take it as the norm and not question it, but this was an opportunity to wear what she'd like, robe wise, and Hermione, along with the majority of the other mages, both male and female, were ecstatic to learn that there were ways to crafts robes and other items with their powers.

It had been a true discovery, based upon a small clue that Harry had given Hermione long ago, regarding conjuring items of pure magic that could refuel the energies of a tired mage, which she had taken and wondered about. If conjuration was a subset of what they were capable of, why not taking the next step and make more than just temporary, magical food that actually didn't completely sustain life.

She had experimented and found that she could easily enchant any object with pure Arcane magic, allowing it to have wondrous benefits, but it was difficult, until once again a visit to Harry's tent on the grounds had given her the breakthrough she needed.

A simple copper rod, with runes carved upon it to better channel the Arcane magic, gave her all the ability she needed, along with small bobbles that were reduced to powder and pure magic essence as components, and together she could easily craft many interesting and powerful modifications to items through purely magical means.

The mages would indeed be the best dressed at the upcoming Ball, and Hermione was determined to outshine them all, as she ought to be, with her date being Harry Potter himself, which meant that she would be part of the opening dance, with all eyes on her. It was rather flustering, but Hermione had dealt with the attention before, recalling two years previous at the Malfoy's Yule celebration, so this ought to be no different.

Closer and closer Christmas day approached, and she devoted more time to this craft, making the robes she had chosen both beautiful and functioning, just in case she was ever caught in a dangerous situation in them, as she planned to reuse these dress robes as long as she fit into them. She even conjured and magical designed false gems and crystals to adorn the robes, and accessories to draw attention to her face, her eyes specifically, and away from her hair, which would only lie flat after an hour application of witch's beauty product, which was just not feasible for everyday use.

But for such a special occasion, she was pulling out all the stops. When the magnificent day arrived, Hermione didn't even think much about her presents, and time seemed to slow until at last it was time for the Ball to begin. She went alone down to the Entrance Hall, where Harry said he'd be waiting for her, and the other students parted way to make room for her, thinking that some sort of exotic Sorceress had appeared right out of the legends of old. In part, through what muttering and awes she heard as she walked, they were correct.

The thought of what people were saying drew her mind to when Professor Dumbledore had apologized vehemently when she confronted him about defeating Morgan le Faye without her, and explained the dangers that they had faced, and how even the ancient witch had used powers similar to themselves and Malfoy's group, which the Headmaster named as warlocks. Hermione was not one to judge, but the term did usually come with negative connotations, and she felt that it fit through the evil taint of the magic.

Pushing such grim thoughts aside, she looked over the Entrance Hall for her date to the Ball, and found him almost instantly, as there was a wide gap around him where the students had cleared a path for him, much similarly to herself.

Clearly, in working with her to perfect this sort of magic, Harry had gone and done the same with his own set of dress robes, and Hermione knew, looking about at even the other mages that had used the Arcane to enhance their outfits, that they were indeed the jewels of the student body, literally glimmering as they walked.

"Like the ancient and noble Quel'dorei, you appear marvelous Miss Granger," Harry said, kissing the back of her hand like a proper gentleman. Hermione wasn't sure what the reference was, but it sounded quite nice. She would research it later, after the emotional high of the Ball faded away, she was sure, but for now she decided to just turn down her inquisitive nature and live in the moment for a time.

"Shall the Champions and their dates please come to the front here please," Professor McGonagall announced, beckoning them all, even as the other students started to filter inside. Hermione was very pleased to find the French champion staring jealously at them both, even though her date seemed enraptured in only her. Hermione ignored her, as she was busy acknowledging the stares and appreciative sounds that her classmates were making in her and Harry's direction as they passed.

Hermione tried her best to take it in stride, but it was indeed a lot of attention, not only for herself, as many did not recognize her at first, but Harry had always owned an extremely striking presence, one that drew others to him, and while there probably were many students afraid of him, they nevertheless were insatiably curious of him.

Only once every other couple that was attending was inside the Great Hall did Professor McGonagall arrange them into a line of pairs, and led them into the hall amid the applause of their classmates. Hermione sensed the pure excitement that radiated through the completely changed room, which seemed to sparkle with all that winter offered in beauty, but there were undercurrents throughout the hall that repulsed her somewhat. Dread, anger and hatred sparked through the arcane lines, as though even now it was gearing itself for battle.

Each of the Champions and their dates approached the Head Table, where Professor Dumbledore and the other judges of the Tournament waited for them, bowed or curtseyed, before moving to the side and taking their seats at the table, making room for the next couple. Hermione and Harry were naturally last, and she had to slow herself to match his almost ethereal gliding pace, which she had to admit allowed every spare moment to further dazzle and awe the assembled students with how absolutely marvelous they looked together.

She curtseyed to the head table, but Harry merely inclined his head, not trusting those at the table by so much as adverting his eyes. Professor Dumbledore's expression was unreadable, but they were not stopped, and continued to their seats around the same table, Harry conveniently taking the chair opposite the Headmaster after making sure that Hermione was seating before him.

The crystal plates and silverware before them gleamed, and everyone waited for instructions on how the food was to be served, Headmaster Dumbledore was the first to move, picking up the menu that was upon the plate, and said very clearly to his plate, "Pork chops," and they appeared.

Suddenly aware of the idea, everyone around the table started placing their own orders. Hermione noticed that Harry took an extremely long time, as though savoring each and every word of the various dishes before making a selection, but eventually a steaming rare steak dominated his plate, along with roasted potatoes and various greens for color.

"Have you been keeping up with your learning of English," she asked him casually, not drawing attention to the small weakness that had plagued the boy three years ago, and slowly chewed her own food as he responded.

"Only somewhat, thanks to the spells I learned I more or less have grasp on the language and moved on to others. There are a few things that I still struggle with, but not enough for people to notice offhandedly. You've always been the exception to that rule however…" he added, teasingly, and Hermione blushed.

Conversation continued around the table in a congenial manner, but never did it extend to more than two seats away from a particular person, as that would have been rude without engaging the entire table.

It took a strangely long time for dinner to conclude, as Harry only spoke when addressed directly, and Hermione was probably the only one to do so. Others across the table seemed to want to, but propriety prevented such a thing. Hermione found herself glancing around at the other tables, just to see who was where and a few other familiar faces in the assembled crowd.

Most of her mages had paired together, the older students bringing the younger as a courtesy, and Draco was there was many a warlock as well, which probably was what was leading to so much tension in the room. She spotted Lord and Lady Malfoy in the crowd, at a rear table speaking with some reporter and her cameraman rather intently.

"I see Lucius used his position as Governor to get into the Ball," Harry commented at her shoulder, also looking around, "they have been very kind to me, and I am glad that they were allowed to attend. They do love their son very much, and miss him during the school year."

Hermione smiled at that, and returned to finishing the food on her plate. It took some time longer, but at last when all were finished eating, Professor Dumbledore stood as their example, and all followed his lead. With a gentle wave of his wand, the tables shifted to the edges of the room, opening up the central area as a dance floor, even as the Wizarding Band, the Weird Sisters trooped up onto the stage to some wild applause from the students.

Hermione smiled at Harry, wondering just now if he even knew how to dance. "You ready?" he asked, taking her by the hand and leading her down to the dance floor.

They were positioned quite front and center out of all the Champions, probably by design of Harry when the music started, and he quite expertly started into a slow waltz.