I do not own any part of the Harry Potter or Eragon universes.

Harry surveyed his surroundings, and his heart sank as he saw the shattered remains of the star sapphire scattered everywhere. He did not know how the dwarves would react when they found out what had happened to their beloved Isidar Mithrim.

"They should count themselves lucky we were here to fight alongside them," Artemis argued in his mind.

"Had we not destroyed the sapphire as a distraction, we might have been too late, and something could have happened to either Arya or Eragon."

"Not Sapphira?" Harry asked.

Artemis blew a cloud of smoke over his head. "We dragons are not as fragile as you two-legs are."

She leaned down and gently nudged his injured arm. "Can you heal yourself? I don't like to see you in pain."

Sensing her worry, Harry offered her a slight smile. A warm feeling filled his body.

"I should be able to do that," he answered tiredly.

"Then do it," she insisted.

Harry held back a chuckled and used his wand to tend to his wound. New skin began to form, while he leaned against Artemis exhaustedly.

His gaze fell on Arya, who had closed her eyes.

"Is everything alright with her?" Eragon asked concerned, now standing next to Harry.

He leaned down and checked her breathing.

"She's just unconscious right now. Using runes can be quite draining, especially if it's the first time," Harry explained.

A sigh of relief escaped Eragon's lips.

"The magic that caused her so much pain… what was it?" Eragon asked, still shivering at the memory of her screams.

"Before I answer you, let's move her somewhere safe first," Harry said, bending down. Together with Eragon's help, they carefully lifted Arya onto Harry's back.

"We need to find out what happened to the battle," Artemis stated.

Harry agreed with her. Who knew what could happen once the Urgals were no longer under the shade's spell. Together the two dragon riders and their dragons headed back the long way.

"You asked what magic could cause such pain," Harry mentioned, after he had adjusted his grip for Arya on his back.

"Brom explained to you that you need the ancient language to use your magic. But what really matters is the intention behind the magic."

"The intent?"

Harry locked eyes with Eragon. "Spells are often created for a specific reason. Some spells were crafted to heal specific injuries. Similarly, there were wizards who intentionally created curses to only cause pain and harm. The spell that struck Arya belonged to the latter."

A look of concern crossed Harry's face as he looked back at the elf.

"Can we help her in any way?" Eragon asked worried.

Harry sighed and shook his head in frustration.

"I wish there was something we could do, but right now, rest and time are the best things for her. Arya had explained to me that elves recover faster than humans and dwarves, so I hope she recovers quickly. No one should ever be exposed to that kind of spell," Harry said with a dark tone.

Artemis looked at her rider with concern. She had seen his memories and knew he had been under that curse twice before.

As they approached the scene of the battle, Harry felt a pang of guilt for not being there to help. He knew that he couldn't be everywhere at once, but the feeling lingered, nonetheless.

As they drew closer, they realized the distant sounds were actually cheers, and they saw the Varden driving off the last remnants of the Urgals.

"Eragon," Brom sighed in relief when he stepped up to them. "I'm glad you and Saphira are okay."

Brom's gaze shifted from Eragon and Saphira to Harry and Artemis.

"What happened? The Urgals suddenly stopped fighting and started attacking each other," Brom said and waited for an answer. His eyes were filled with worry.

Harry exchanged a look with Eragon, giving him a reassuring nod before Eragon stepped forward and breathed deeply to steady himself.

"Durza is dead," Eragon said with a sense of triumph.

Brom's eyebrows shot up in surprise. His eyes widened as he looked at Harry, who nodded with a solemn expression.

"Eragon killed him. He wielded Arya's sword and pierced his heart," Harry said.

Brom nodded grimly. "So, the Urgals were under Durza's power... That explains the mystery why they fought under one big banner."

He grabbed Eragon by the shoulders. "You have accomplished a feat few have done before you. You should be proud of yourself, Eragon Shadeslayer."

Eragon nodded, feeling a mix of emotions. "I am proud of what I and Saphira accomplished today, but I also know that there is still much to be done. Galbatorix is still out there, and we have to find a way to defeat him."

Brom's expression grew serious. "Yes, that is true. But for now, let us celebrate this victory and tend to our wounded. We can worry about the mad king tomorrow."

He turned away from Eragon, his face unreadable. "Come on, you must rest. The Varden have set up a hall for the injured. I was hoping you could use your skills to aid them," Brom said, addressing Harry.

Harry nodded tiredly. "I'll see what I can do. But first, Arya should have somewhere to rest."

Arya unconsciously moved her head until she rested on his shoulder.

"Of course. Come with me."

Brom led the way, with Harry following closely behind. Artemis walked behind him, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.

As they made their way towards the hall for the injured, Harry could see the extent of the damage caused by the battle. Buildings were destroyed, and the ground was littered with debris and the bodies of fallen soldiers and Urgals.

Inside the hall were dozens of injured soldiers, some being tended to by healers, and others lying still and silent, their fate uncertain.

He could see that many of the magicians were overwhelmed with their tasks, trying to heal the wounded and others tried to provide comfort to those in pain. Some were collapsing from exhaustion, their magic drained from the sheer amount of effort they put in.

With Brom's help, they managed to carefully lay Arya on the bed. Artemis curled herself protectively around her.

"Can you watch her for a while?" Harry asked.

"Of course." Artemis replied, her gaze never leaving Arya's face.

As Harry made to leave, Arya's hand shot out unconsciously and grabbed his arm, holding him close as her muscles spasmed in pain.

It took a few seconds before her grip on his arm weakened and her hand slipped away.

He waited patiently until she had calmed down and then turned to face Brom.

Harry sighed before responding to Brom's questioning gaze, "I wish there was something we could do. I don't know of any potions or spells that could ease her suffering," he admitted.

Brom rubbed his eyes tiredly, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "I'll stay here then and keep an eye on her to make sure nothing will happen to her."

Artemis kept a watchful eye on Harry as Brom took a seat beside her.

"Are you certain there is nothing you can do? Can't you at least try to ask him?" Artemis questioned; her eyes fixed on Harry.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, and he gave Artemis a sharp glance.

"I have asked him before, but he has made it clear that he won't assist me in any way," Harry answered, his expression grim. "As for Arya, we will have to let her recover on her own."

Artemis snarled and lifted her head protectively over Arya.

"Don't you think it's time you look past what he told you back then? You know now that it wasn't your fault. You didn't know they would let you down," Artemis said quietly, her voice soft with concern.

"They did not let me down. Ron and Hermione returned!" Harry's emotions were clear through their bond, and Artemis could sense his frustration.

"I know it's hard to hear, but he had a point. Ron and Hermione were not fully aware of the dangers when they joined you on the Horkrux hunt."

"How do you know that? You weren't even there!" Harry retorted, his voice rising.

A loud growl rumbled from Artemis as she vented her anger, causing those nearby to recoil.

"I know everything you've been through, Harry! You are my rider, and I've seen all your memories. I've felt every moment of pain and triumph that you have experienced!" Artemis exclaimed with intensity.

She snorted in anger, and a plume of dark smoke escaped her nostrils.

"And I know exactly how you feel now! You're feeling confused because of the appearance of another wizard, and you are unsure what that means for us," Artemis said, trying to calm Harry down.

"But look around you, Harry. The Varden need you. Arya needs you!" Artemis reminded him.

Harry's gaze swept around the room, taking in the many injured Varden men, before settling on Arya's pained expression.

"Why do you always have to be right?" He grumbled under his breath, as he took the pouch from his neck.

Artemis' blue eyes glinted in the light. "I was just stating what you already knew. You just needed to hear it from someone else," she said with a gently tone.

Harry nodded slowly, taking a deep breath as he did so.

He turned to Brom and spoke in a tired but steady voice. "We are fine. We just had a disagreement, and I was being foolish," he replied, not looking forward for what he was about to do.

"Please move aside, Brom. I know someone who might be able to help us," Harry stated with a frown.

Brom's eyes blinked in confusion.

"What do you mean? Who are you talking about?" He asked, clearly puzzled.

With Brom's question still lingering in the air, Harry pointed his wand at the pouch and whispered, "Accio!"

An old portrait with an old ornate wooden emerged from the pouch, glinting in the bright light and floating a few feet above the ground. The man looked dignified, with a long and slender face, and a white beard that was almost as long as Dumbledore's. His piercing black eyes and prominent eagle-like nose gave him an intimidating appearance.

He was dressed in a black cloak that added to his air of authority as a nobleman.

Arcturus Orion Black raised an eyebrow as his gaze met Harry's.

"Ah, Potter... What did you do this time?"

"Gedwin!" Orik's voice thundered through the chamber, Gedwin's head snapped up and he made eye contact with the dwarf, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Orik, it is good to see that you are alive!" Gedwin replied, clasping Orik's hand.

"The cost was high, but we mustn't lose hope," Orik said with determination.

"We will not forget the sacrifices made by our soldiers," he continued. "Their memory will be honored, and we will fight for them, for their families, and for the future of Alagaёsia."

Gedwin nodded in agreement. "The fight is not over yet," Gedwin said. "We still have a chance to overthrow the king."

"Aye," Orik affirmed, looking upwards. As he looked up, memories flooded his mind. He remembered the first time he traveled to Tronjheim as a young dwarf, and how he was captivated by the story of Dûrok Ornthrond, the dwarf who carved Isidar Mithrim, that he refused to take his eyes off it for days.

But now, as he looked up, all he saw was a dark, desolate void.

"Where are the others? You guys are rarely seen alone," Orik remarked.

Gedwin shook his head. "Charles and Irene joined a group of dwarves to drive the Urgals out of the tunnels, while Edward and the others started carrying the Urgals' bodies onto a pyre," Gedwin explained. "I wanted to see if I could help the healers."

Orik nodded approvingly. "I was on my way as well. The healers will need all the help they can get after a battle like this."

It wasn't long before dwarf and human reached the hall where the injured were being housed.

The room was filled with rows of cots, each occupied by a wounded soldier. The Du Vrangr Gata was bustling around, attending to their patients with bandages. Orik and Gedwin made their way through the rows. Finally, they spotted Harry and the others.

Their eyes widened as they saw what was taking place before their eyes. Orik rubbed his eyes, just to make sure he wasn't seeing things, as he saw the man move and speak inside the floating painting.

"By the name of Gûntera, what magic is this?" He exclaimed.

The two of them stood there in stunned silence, unsure of what to make of the strange sight before them.

"Orik!" Eragon exclaimed, as he rushed over to them.

"Shadeslayer!" Orik greeted Eragon with a warm smile, at seeing the young man alive.

Orik let out a sigh of relief as he saw Eragon. "There is something more comforting about seeing someone alive with your own eyes than just hearing the rumors," he remarked.

Eragon looked surprised at his greeting.

"Don't be surprised, Eragon. Even now songs and poems are being composed of your triumph over Durza. Soon they will be singing it all over Alagaёsia," Orik said with a smirk.

However, his expression quickly turned to concern, when he noticed the bickering between Harry and the painting. "What is going on? Who is that?" He asked, motioning towards Harry.

Orik's revelation left Eragon momentarily stunned, but he quickly regained his composure. "It's a magical painting, Harry summoned from his pouch," he explained.

"Truly? A magical painting?" Gedwin asked.

Eragon nodded. "Yes, it seems so. Harry says he got it from his world."

"What did you do this time?" Arcturus sneered, his sharp eyes piercing through Harry's.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "I need your help."

Arcturus raised an eyebrow. ""The last time I offered you my advice, you locked me away for years. What could you possibly need from me?"

"You advised me that I should abandon my friends!" Harry said through clenched teeth. He took a deep breath and stepped aside so Arcturus could see what was happening.

"Explain yourself," Arcturus demanded. His focus was on the dragon and the woman who lay motionless on the cot.

Before Harry could say anything, Brom stepped in. "Could you please tell us who that is? I've never heard of a painting that is able to speak."

Arcturus eyed the man in front of him. "I am a magical painting. My name is Arcturus Orion Black, the former Lord of the Blacks."

He turned towards Harry. "Young Potter discovered me in the Lord's Study of our Ancestral home, while he was searching for… certain information on magic. Due to a promise to his grandfather, I agreed to go with him when they had to leave."

Brom considered Arcturus' words for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Very well," he said. "We will be keeping a close eye on you."

Arcturus smirked at him and then turned towards Harry. "Well? Start talking!"

Harry took a deep breath and began to quickly explain everything that had happened to them since they arrived in Alagaёsia, including his bonding with Artemis and the battle against Durza and Nott.

Arcturus listened intently, his expression becoming more and more serious as Harry spoke. When Harry finished, there was a moment of silence as Arcturus considered everything he heard.

Finally, he spoke. "You have certainly stumbled into quite the mess, young Potter," Arcturus said.

He scratched his beard thoughtfully. "The Notts have always been a bunch of inept shit… But it seems you dealt with him quite effectively, considering the circumstances," he remarked.

His eyes narrowed as he saw the woman convulse in pain.

"The Cruciatus Curse?" Arcturus asked, his voice laced with disdain.

"Yes," Harry replied, his eyes filled with worry as he looked at Arya.

"Is there anything we can do to help her? Madame Pomfrey gave me something for it in the past."

Arcturus regarded Arya thoughtfully. "There are potions that can ease the pain, but they have to be freshly brewed."

Harry stood up quickly. "Tell me what to do."

"Good," Arcturus nodded satisfied. "The three ingredients you need are Moondew, powdered Unicorn horn and Dittany."

Harry waved his wand and a narrow wooden table with a fire appeared in front of him. He reached into his pouch with his hand and pulled out one vial at a time containing the ingredient for the potion.

While setting up a cauldron, he was Orik and Gedwin join them.

"Make a fire, the water must boil well," Arcturus instructed. To help Harry, Brom stepped forward and said in the ancient language, "Brisingr!".

The flames leapt high and danced around the cauldron.

Meanwhile, the others took a step back and observed the scene with interest.

Arcturus barked out the instructions, his tone gruff and impatient. Harry quickly began cutting the Moondew as instructed, trying his best to make them even.

As the water began to boil, Harry added the crushed Unicorn horn and then slowly added the Moondew. The mixture began to change colors, and a thick white steam rose from the cauldron.

"Stir it slowly, Potter," Arcturus instructed, his eyes fixed on the potion.

"You don't want to ruin it now."

Harry nodded and began to stir clockwise, as the potion simmered.

"Now add the Dittany and stir seven times counterclockwise," he explained as he watched Harry add the last ingredient to the cauldron. The mixture began to bubble and emit a soothing scent.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Arcturus nodded in approval. "That should do it," he said.

"Pour it into a vial and let it cool."

Harry did as he was told, carefully pouring the potion into a small glass vial, he had summoned earlier. As it cooled, the steam dissipated, and the potion settled into a deep blue color.

"There," Arcturus said, nodding at the vial. "That should help ease her pain."

Harry rushed over to Arya and knelt beside her. He carefully lifted her head and held the vial to her lips, helping her drink the potion.

Brom leaned in closer and carefully observed Arya. "It does not seem to help her."

"Not all magic works instantly, Brom, and potions are no different. You of all people should know that," said a voice that Harry immediately recognized.

Harry whirled around and saw to his surprise that Angela, the herb witch from Teirm, was standing in front of him.

"You!" Brom exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yes, me. My name is Angela, in case you forgot. I see you still have the memory of a goldfish, Brom," Angela quipped.

Angela moved forward and took the empty vial in her hands, examining it closely.

She fanned her hand over the vial and took a whiff.

"Ah," Angela said with a nod. "Moondew! A wonderful ingredient for healing potions. Good thinking, Harry!"

"It wasn't me-"

Arcturus cleared his throat, drawing Angela's attention to him. Her eyes brightened when she noticed the floating painting. "Fascinating! Were you the one who brewed this potion?"

Arcturus raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know there were potions masters around here."

Angela returned the gesture. "Then it's a good thing I don't claim to be one either, is it?"

The former Lord Black chuckled. "Fair enough. But you do seem to know your way around a potion."

The witch grinned knowingly and turned to Eragon, who was looking at her with curiosity written all over his face.

She gave him a mysterious smile, knowing he had questions.

"What are you doing here?" Eragon blurted out.

"It's good to see you too, Eragon. Your sudden departure from Teirm caused quite a stir, and rumors were spreading that the king's servants were searching for a new dragon rider," Angela said, her gaze locking onto Eragon and Saphira.

"I quickly realized that the dragon must have indeed hatched from the Varden egg and that a new dragon rider had emerged."

Angela glanced at Brom. "I had not heard your name for years, so it didn't take long for me to put two and two together. So, I decided to close my shop and set out to find out more."

Her eyes lit up as she looked at Saphira and Artemis.

"Imagine my surprise when I found out that not only is Eragon a dragon rider, but you too, Harry," she smiled at him.

She shook her head. "But we can chat later. Right now, we have a lot to do!"

Without another word, Angela reached for some woolen towels lying on a nearby table.

"Don't stand there gawking, Eragon," Angela said, thrusting the woolen cloths at him. "We've got work to do."

Harry snorted at Eragon's stunned expression and began to roll up his sleeves, ready to assist with the injured. He cast a final glance at Artemis and Arya before following Angela to the wounded.

Brom shook his head and leaned back against the wall, while he eyed Arcturus.

"Tell me about your world, please."

Harry and Orik were helping a soldier out of his armor, when they noticed a deep gash on his ribcage that was oozing blood.

"How did this happen?" Harry asked, looking at the wound as Orik set aside the ruined breastplate.

"An Urgal," the soldier gasped, while he was holding his side. "I saw him too late... his ax hit me from the side."

Harry drew his wand and traced the wound with his faithful companion.

The soldier looked anxiously at the piece of wood in Harry's hand. He had watched what Harry had done with the wand during the battle.

Suddenly he felt the skin around the wound grow warm. He looked down and saw with wonder in his eyes how new skin was growing over the wound.

"Thank you", the soldier murmured with relief as he gingerly touched the healed area.

"No need to thank me," Harry waved his hand dismissively.

The soldier nodded dazedly and slowly got up. "Thank you, sir. I am in your debt," the soldier stood, bowing deeply to Harry.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Orik sigh.

"What is wrong? You've been pulling a bad face the whole time, Orik. If you don't like the work-"

Orik cursed under his breath, his long beard quivering with emotion. "Barzûl, Harry! Isidar Mithrim was the pride of our people! We may have won the battle for Farthen Dûr, but our hearts are broken in a thousand pieces. Even if Galbatorix falls dead tomorrow, our grief and sorrow will not fade away easily."

Harry hadn't expected how much the sapphire meant to the dwarves.

Artemis nudged him in his mind. "We should offer them our help; It was our fault after all."

Harry nodded and relayed what Artemis told him.

Orik's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he regarded Harry with a mixture of shock and gratitude. A small glimmer of hope flickered in his eyes.

"Are you sure you can do this?"

"Absolutely," Harry replied with a determined look.

"We will do whatever it takes to help you restore Isidar Mithrim to its former glory."

Orik's head turned to the side, and he looked up at Artemis.

The two locked eyes until finally Orik smiled widely.

His eyes were shining with gratitude as he spoke. "This is the best news we've had in a long time! If you can do that, our people will forever be grateful to you two!"

Orik bid them farewell and departed, eagerly making his way to convey the news to his king.

Harry could only shake his head in amusement as a line of soldiers poured into the halls.

"Shadeslayer!" The soldiers shouted as they marched past Harry.

As Eragon removed the last piece of Armor from Saphira, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

Stepping in front of them, he asked, "What's happening?"

Eragon held his hand to silence the men who were gasping for air and talking at the same time.

He pointed to a man with curly brown hair. "You. Speak."

The man nodded and stuck out his chest proudly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eragon could see Saphira rolling her eyes.

"Men." Saphira said, while she shook her head.

Eragon stifled a smile and patiently waited for the soldier to speak.

The soldier cleared his throat and began to explain, "Jörmundur sends for you, Shadeslayer," the soldier explained, breathing fast.

"Jörmundur? What does he want?" Eragon narrowed his eyebrows and looked concerned at Saphira.

"Did something happen? Are the Urgals back?"

The soldier shook his head. "No, the rest of the monsters have all been pushed back into the tunnels. It's about Ajihad, sir."

Eragon's heart pounded beneath his chest. Even Saphira lifted her head off the ground.

"Wasn't Murtagh assigned to Ajihad's group?" Saphira asked in his mind.

"What happened?" Eragon asked, his voice tense.

The soldiers' faces fell. The words hit Eragon like a punch to the gut.

"His group was attacked during the battle. Ajihad was killed."