Daphne sat cross-legged on the packed earth on the edge of the Burning Plains, her wand in one hand and The Art and Theory of Wandlore by Gervaise Ollivander (1895) open before her. The Varden's camp bustled busily around them, blacksmiths hammering weapons and tools, scouts preparing for battle, but she was hyperfocused on the challenge at hand.

Roran Stronghammer needed a wand. But to do that, she needed to understand him. It's not as if she were crafting scores of wands for random witches and wizards to be chosen by them.

Roran was an enigma.

He had a fiancé… But Daphne could have sworn that there was something between him and Tori. Although he was seventeen and she was fourteen, she didn't think they were awfully mismatched.

Harry and Astoria sat nearby, watching as Daphne scanned the book's worn pages, occasionally muttering to herself.

"You would reckon she was Hermione's best friend instead of me." Harry whispered to a giggling Astoria.

"The first step," Daphne finally said, tapping a passage with her finger, "is selecting the right wood. It must be durable, responsive, and attuned to the wielder." She looked up at an oblivious Roran. "Your hammer."

Roran raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

Astoria grinned. "The handle—it's Fir wood. Strong, unyielding, perfect for someone as stubborn as you."

Harry snorted, and Roran gave them all a dry look before pulling his hammer from the belt on his back.

"How do know that?" Harry queried.

"Because Dad's wand has the same wood." Daphne explained for her sister.

"You're saying you want to tear apart my hammer?" Rorans voice escalated.

Daphne nodded. "You travelled with it, right? You fought battles with it? You understand it like no other. I believe that even your sweat has soaked into the handle…"

Roran studied the weapon in his hands for a long moment, then exhaled sharply in defeat. Hesitantly, he brought it down sideways against a nearby boulder, cracking the hammer's head free. He handed the wooden handle to Daphne. "Make it count."

Daphne accepted it excitedly. "Now we need the core."

'Are you more excited about Roran's wand than your sister?' Harry teased her causing to mock frown at him before resuming her task.

She flipped further through the book. "Phoenix feathers, dragon heartstring, unicorn hair… magical essences that amplify power." She looked up thoughtfully. "Saphira."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "She is definitely not going to like that."

But they all knew there was no better choice.

Together, they made their way to Saphira and Eragon who were resting near the edge of the camp. They chose this location to monitor the perimeter in the dark. She lifted her head as they approached, golden eyes narrowing.

'You need something from me.' She stated, allowing everyone to hear.

Daphne stepped forward. "A piece of your horn."

Saphira let out a low growl. "You wish to take part of me?"

Daphne straightened up, holding her best pureblood princess posture perfectly. "Yes."

Astoria cleared her throat. "It's for Roran."

Saphira's gaze flicked to Roran, who stood tall beside them, arms crossed.

'Saphira.' Eragon asked her privately while getting to his feet.

Saphira's scales rippled as she eyed her partner.

Eragon looked to Daphne, then Harry and shrugged his shoulders.

Saphira was silent for a long moment before huffing. 'If it were anyone else, I would refuse. But… you are my family now.'

She lowered her head slightly, allowing Eragon to step forward. With careful precision, he took a small dagger and scraped a sliver of horn from one of her back spikes.

The moment he finished, Saphira shook herself with an irritated growl. 'See that it is used well.'

Daphne held the small matchstick like piece of dragon horn in her hands, feeling the raw energy within it. "We will."

'Harry?'

'Yes babe.'

'Notice how we can feel the magic surrounding us better than in our world?'

'Now that you mention it…'

With both core and wood secured, the next step was shaping the wand itself.

They made their way through the camp to the Varden's woodworkers and blacksmiths, where Horst was overseeing the reforging of weapons. Horst was surprised to see the five teenagers though when they explained what they needed, the smith gave them a skeptical look but nodded.

"You lot are up to something strange," he muttered. "Fine. Let's get to work."

Harry and Roran held the Fir wood steady as Daphne carefully carved the shape of the wand, smoothing the handle and cutting a narrow groove for the horn sliver. She used a carving charm which Harry remembered from his fourth year Charms book.

Eragon stood guard by the entrance, just in case.

Astoria laid out the book, reading aloud. "Once the core and wood are prepared, they must be bound – not with metal or glue, but with magic."

Daphne exhaled. "Then let's do it."

"How?" asked Astoria.

"The permanent sticking charm, of course."

They had gathered the materials. Now came the real challenge—bringing the wand to life.

Daphne carefully laid out the Fir wood handle and the shard of Saphira's horn on a wooden worktable inside the Varden's smithy and woodworker's tent. The air smelled of freshly carved timber, sawdust clinging to every surface. The old woodworker, a wiry man named Halric, had reluctantly cleared a space for them after hearing their unusual request.

"I've shaped bows and hafts for a hundred warriors, but never something this small or delicate," Halric admitted, scratching his beard. "You're sure about this? It's looks small."

Daphne nodded. "Absolutely. But this isn't just woodwork – it's magic."

Halric grunted but left them to their work.

Harry watched Daphne run her fingers along the Fir wood, preparing to finish carving it, when a thought struck him like a Bludger to the head. He dug into his enchanted pouch, rummaging through its contents. He knew he had stored them somewhere…

And then, his fingers brushed against something smooth.

He pulled out a few large, curved fragments of Aelindra's eggshell—deep maroon with streaks of golden veins running through it. The shell was warm to the touch, pulsing with latent energy.

Daphne noticed his hesitation. "Harry?"

Harry swallowed. "I still have pieces of Aelindra's shell." He looked up at her, expression unreadable. "Do you think… you could make another wand?"

Daphne's eyes widened, and she glanced at the fragments, then back at Harry.

"A dragon's egg is full of magic. We felt it," she murmured, suddenly deep in thought. "If we use a piece of it as a core, it might resonate differently than Saphira's horn. It's untested, but it could work."

Harry nodded. "Then let's try."

Astoria looked between them, bouncing on her heels, doing her best Dobby impression. "Okay, but what wood are we using? We don't have another hammer handle lying around."

Daphne turned, scanning the edge of the woodworker's tent, then the tree line beyond the camp. After a few seconds, her eyes landed on a Poplar tree, its pale bark standing out against the darker trees nearby.

"Poplar," she said decisively. "It's adaptable, strong-willed, and has a history of being used by those with purpose. It fits you."

Harry tilted his head. "Because I have purpose? And how did you know about that?"

Daphne smirked. "Because you're stubborn." Then walked up to him and pecked him on the cheek. "And I just read it in the book."

Astoria stifled a laugh as Harry rolled his eyes. But he didn't argue.

-oIo-

Now, she had everything needed to craft the wands. For Roran, The wand would have to be rigid, and a little shorter. The book described length according to personality. But it also disclaimed it as a guideline. It would, of course, be Fir surrounding a sliver of dragon horn. For Harry, no idea why he would want another wand, but it would need to match his eleven inches. How she prayed he would be at least close to eleven inches… But marriage first! His wood would be poplar and the core, a piece of Aëlindra's golden shell.

Daphne exhaled slowly, centering herself as she set the Fir and Poplar wood in front of her on the worktable. Halric had given them access to his best carving tools, but this was a process that required magic.

She opened The Art and Theory of Wandlore to the chapter on wand binding. The old parchment was covered in Ollivander's elegant, looping script, detailing each stage with obsessive precision.

Daphne took the half-finished Fir wood first and resumed carving. The wood was tough, but each stroke of the knife was precise, she could use the carving charm to roughly make it into the shape she desired but required a blade to complete it. She shaped it into a smooth, slightly tapered cylinder, leaving the handle a bit thicker for Roran's grip.

Harry and Astoria watched as the rough shape of a wand emerged. Roran, arms crossed, simply observed in silence with his eyes occasionally flickering to Astoria.

Then Daphne turned to the Poplar branch. It was softer, easier to carve, but still sturdy. As she worked, she found herself shaping it slightly differently – more balanced, almost like an extension of the hand rather than a tool.

When both wands were carved, she ran her fingertips over them, nodding in satisfaction. "Now, the cores."

Daphne took the fragment of Saphira's horn first. She had carved a small groove along the length of the Fir wand's shaft earlier, just wide enough to fit the sliver of horn.

"This part is delicate," she murmured. "If the core isn't fully fused to the wood, the wand won't function properly."

Harry leaned closer. "How do we bind them together?"

Daphne glanced at the book. "We use magic. Unifying magic, specifically. Then a permanent sticking charm so it doesn't accidentally fall out."

She pulled her wand from her robes and tapped the embedded core lightly. "Ligatio Magica."

A faint blue glow emanated from the wand, sinking into the Fir wood as the horn sliver pulsed once before becoming still. The two materials fused seamlessly, as though they had always been one.

Then she swished and added a double flick before saying, "Epoximise."

The wand rippled and settled immediately.

She let out a slow breath. "One down."

Next came the Aelindra eggshell for Harry's wand. She carefully slotted the fragment into the groove she had carved in the Poplar wood. The shell seemed to hum in response, its golden veins glowing faintly.

When she cast the Ligatio Magica spell and expoximised it, the reaction was immediate.

The shell pulsed once and then a wave of warmth surged through the workshop, causing the tools on the worktable to rattle. The glow of the spell was deeper, almost fiery, as if the magic within the egg still carried the echoes of its hatching.

Harry felt something shift inside him as the bond took hold. A connection… subtle, but present.

Daphne pulled her wand back, eyes slightly widened. "That was… different from the first."

Harry flexed his fingers. "It feels different."

Astoria spoke and scribbled furiously in the book's margins. "New discovery… Dragon egg as wand core causes strong magical resonance."

Daphne turned back to the book. The final step was sealing the magic within the wands to ensure the cores remained stable.

She raised her wand and spoke the incantation from the book. "Claudo Magia."

A shimmering silver mist coiled around both wands, sinking into the wood like rainwater into dry earth.

The wands were complete.

Daphne wiped her brow, setting her knife aside. "That's it. They're ready."

Harry reached for his first. The moment his fingers closed around the Poplar wood, he felt warmth pulse up his arm, like a heartbeat syncing with his own.

'Harry?' Aëlindra asked. Daphne had heard her as well.

'Yes… my heart?' Harry responded though still in awe of his new wand.

'I can feel your energy. You are stronger.' The dragonette replied.

'She is right.' Daphne confirmed then she looked at Roran and nodded.

Roran hesitated for a moment before finally picking up his wand. He held it in his palm, testing its weight like he would a weapon. It felt… right.

"Now," Daphne said, smiling slightly, "we see if they work."

Harry turned his new wand over in his hands, marvelling at how natural it felt. The moment his fingers wrapped around the polished Poplar, a warmth pulsed up his arm, not just power, but recognition. It was as though the wand was greeting him. He slid his finders over the surface, it was still slightly rough, but he knew that he could smoothen it easily.

Daphne smirked. "Well? Are you going to stand there stroking it all day, or are you going to try a spell?"

Harry glanced up at her, brow raised. "You could have phrased that better."

Astoria groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Merlin help me."

Daphne, however, simply gave Harry a slow, deliberate once-over. "I said what I said."

Roran cleared his throat loudly. "You two done?"

Harry grinned but decided now was not the time to let Daphne win this round. He took a step back, pointed his wand at an old iron horseshoe hanging on the wall. "Let me make that horseshoe float. Wingardium Leviosa!" He ended with a flick after the swish.

The horseshoe launched into the air, not just floating, but rocketing straight up so fast that it punched a hole through the tent ceiling.

"Oops."

Daphne and Astoria both ducked as dust rained down from above. Roran watched the hole in the tent flap for a moment before slowly turning to Harry. "That… was more than just floating."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, uh. Might need to dial it back a little."

Daphne, smirking, leaned closer. "Or maybe you just have a lot of pent-up energy."

Harry shot her a sideways glance. "Keep talking like that and I might test my next spell on you."

Daphne lifted a brow. "Promises, promises."

Astoria groaned again, dramatically flopping onto a nearby stool. "I didn't sign up to be a chaperone."

Roran, wisely ignoring them, turned his gaze to his own wand. He traced his fingers along the polished Fir wood, feeling the smooth grooves where Daphne had carefully carved its shape. It was… unfamiliar. And yet, something about it felt right.

He tightened his grip.

For so long, he had fought with steel and sheer willpower, but this? This could be the key to finally rescuing Katrina.

"Roran?" Astoria prompted. "You gonna try it or what?"

Roran nodded. "Yeah. Let's see what this thing can do. But what do I say again?"

Astoria stood and guided him through the incantation and wand motion for a few minutes.

"Hey guys," Eragon's voice wafted in from outside. "Can I come and see this?

"Yes, I think you should." Daphne confirmed with her eyes on Roran.

Roran squared his stance, aiming his wand at an old wooden bucket sitting by the forge. He hesitated for a moment, then flicked the wand and called out, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The bucket shot straight up - but unlike Harry's spell, it hovered midair, shaking violently like it couldn't decide what to do.

Roran stared at it in shock.

Daphne's eyes widened. "Well done!"

Roran let out a slow breath. "I… did it."

Astoria nudged Harry. "Seems like he's another Chosen One." At which Harry rolled his eyes.

Roran lowered his wand slowly, and the bucket dropped back to the ground with a thud. He clenched his fist around the wood. "This means I won't have to rely on others to do the magic for me. When I go after Katrina… I can fight with more than just brute strength."

Eragon spoke, stepping closer. "That's why they did this. You're not just swinging a hammer anymore, Roran. You're wielding something that'll make you even stronger."

Harry nodded. "Katrina's out there, waiting for you. And now, you got more than just muscle and determination – you got magic."

Roran's grip on his wand tightened, his blue eyes burning with renewed hope.

Astoria smiled. "So… when do we get to train you?"

Daphne smirked. "Oh, don't worry. Training starts now."

Harry groaned. "Of course it does."

Daphne's smirk widened as she leaned in close. "Unless you'd rather sneak off and let me teach you something else instead?"

Harry blinked. "Are you—are you flirting with me in the middle of a war camp?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. If I were flirting, you wouldn't be able to speak properly right now."

Harry opened his mouth. Then promptly shut it.

Astoria howled with laughter.

Roran just chuckled. "Come on, you two. Let's see if these wands can actually hold up in a fight."

As they walked toward the training grounds, Daphne nudged Harry playfully. "You're blushing, Potter."

Harry groaned, pressing a hand to his face. "I hate you."

"You really don't."

He peeked at her through his fingers. "No, I really don't."

Daphne smirked.

'What happened to keeping our relationship a secret?' Daphne asked him privately, through their bond.

'I swear if you two do not mate soon, I will lick you both from head to toe.' Aëlindra's voice caused both Harry and Daphne to blanch.

Astoria, still walking behind them, groaned loudly. "If you two start snogging before we even get to the training field, I'm hexing both of you."

Roran, shaking his head in amusement, tightened his grip on his new wand.

Soon, Katrina. I'm coming for you.

-oIo-

Hermione sat at Dumbledore's desk, Theories of Ancient Magics and Lost Civilizations open in front of her. The book's fragile pages crackled under her fingertips as she skimmed through the section on interdimensional portals, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. They had been discussing the events that led up to Harry, Daphne and eventually Astoria's disappearance. The Greengrasses were highly influential and not impressed that both their children disappeared on school grounds. Voldemort pitching up really scared everyone.

"This is it," she muttered. "This is how Harry ended up in that world."

Dumbledore, seated across from her, peered over his half-moon spectacles. "I assume you have found something significant?"

Hermione nodded, tapping the text. "It describes how barriers between worlds weaken in places of ancient magic. But to fully open a portal, it requires…" She hesitated, her stomach twisting.

Dumbledore read the next line aloud. "A blood sacrifice of an untainted virgin."

The room fell into silence.

Hermione swallowed hard. "It doesn't necessarily mean human blood, but it does require something alive. A willing sacrifice. I presume so."

Dumbledore leaned back, steepling his fingers. "Blood magic is a perilous road, Miss Granger. Even among the most skilled wizards, its use often leads to unintended consequences."

Hermione clenched her fists. "But if this is how they got there, then it's how we get them back."

"I really don't think that either Harry or the Greengrass sisters have the knowledge to perform blood magic-"

A sudden CRACK! echoed through the office, interrupting the Headmaster.

Dobby appeared in the centre of the room, his arms clutching something tightly.

"Miss Hermione! Professor Dumbledore!" the house-elf squeaked. "Dobby has come for Harry Potter's cloak!"

Hermione barely reacted this time. Dobby had already told her the night before that Harry was alive. Without hesitation, she reached into her bag and handed over the folded Invisibility Cloak.

Dobby accepted it reverently, tucking it close to his chest. "Harry Potter is needing this very much!"

Before he could vanish, Dumbledore raised a hand. "One moment, Dobby."

The elf froze, his tennis-ball eyes darting up to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore reached into a drawer and pulled out a small, rectangular mirror. Its glass shimmered with an unnatural glow, reflecting light that wasn't there.

"This," he said, placing it in Dobby's hands, "is a two-way mirror. It was created by James Potter and Sirius Black. If you give this to Harry, he will be able to communicate with us."

Dobby's fingers curled around the mirror, his expression one of deep awe.

"Dobby will bring this to Harry Potter right away!" the elf declared.

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Tell him… that we are doing everything we can to find a way back to him."

Dobby gave a firm, enthusiastic nod before vanishing with a final CRACK!.

"If that mirror works…" Hermione trailed off as she watched the Headmaster.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers, his gaze locked onto the ancient book before them. The candlelight flickered across the old parchment, casting eerie shadows over the words Hermione had uncovered.

She traced her finger down the text again, her voice hushed but unwavering.

"To breach the veil between worlds, one must offer a piece of their own essence, the untainted blood of a maiden, willingly given. The magic will take what it deems necessary, binding the caster to the gateway, ensuring the passage is stable. Failure to properly control the spell may result in unintended consequences, including, but not limited to, fragmentation of the soul, misdirection of the portal, or irreversible loss."

Hermione swallowed. "It's dangerous."

Dumbledore sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Yes, blood magic always is."

Hermione flipped to the next page, scanning the aged ink for anything that might mitigate the risk. The script was cramped, almost frantic, as though the writer had been desperate to record every detail.

"The ritual must take place where ley lines converge, amplifying the natural currents of magic. A circle of binding must be drawn, and the offering of blood placed at its centre. The incantation must be spoken without hesitation, for doubt will unravel the weave."

She bit her lip. "It doesn't specify how much blood is needed."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Likely because it varies based on the intent. Magic is not simply about following instructions, Hermione. It responds to will, to sacrifice."

Hermione's mind raced. "So… if I were to perform the ritual, I could control how much I give?"

"To a degree," Dumbledore admitted. "But there are risks. The magic will take what it deems necessary, not simply what you are willing to part with. There is no guarantee it will be satisfied with a mere drop."

Hermione hesitated, staring at the page. "But if this is what's required to bring Harry and Daphne back…"

Dumbledore held up a hand. "We do not act in haste. There is still much to understand."

He reached for a quill and a fresh sheet of parchment, transcribing key portions of the text.

"First," he continued, "we must determine where to perform the ritual. Ley lines are strongest in certain places – ancient locations of power. We must find a suitable one within Hogwarts or beyond."

Hermione nodded. "The Forbidden Forest has long been rumoured to hold deep magic. It's in Hogwarts, A History. There could be a convergence point there."

"Indeed," Dumbledore mused. "Or perhaps even the Chamber of Secrets."

Hermione paled slightly at that. "Hogwarts Castle is atop a ley line?"

Dumbledore nodded and tapped the parchment. "Second, we must ensure that if we attempt this, we do so with caution. A sacrifice made incorrectly could bind you to the portal, rather than allowing passage between realms."

Hermione exhaled sharply. "So, if I perform the ritual, I might be pulled into Alagaësia instead."

Dumbledore's expression was grave. "Precisely."

She pressed a hand to her forehead, her thoughts spinning. "Then… is there a way to ensure that only the portal opens, without it demanding more than we give?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought. "There are ways to reinforce intent—ritual circles, protective sigils - but they must be carefully prepared. One mistake, and the magic will take liberties of its own."

"Wait. You want to send me there?" Hermione thought they were looking for a way back for the others, but didn't realize until now that the headmaster was suggesting she goes.

"I am afraid that my body is much too old." His eyes twinkled.

Hermione let out a slow breath. "Then we need time. Research."

Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Spoken like a true scholar."

She huffed. "More like spoken like someone who doesn't want to accidentally rip their soul apart."

Dumbledore chuckled, but there was no mirth in his eyes. "A reasonable concern."

They sat in silence for a moment before Hermione spoke again. "Do you think Harry would attempt this if he were in my position?"

Dumbledore's gaze softened. "I do."

She nodded, determination settling in her chest. "Then I need to be ready."

Dumbledore closed the book with a soft thud. "We will both be ready, Miss Granger. But we must tread carefully."

"Do I tell Ron? Er – Ronald?" she asked hesitantly.

"I do believe that the three of you are stronger together." He dismissed her with a grandfatherly nod.

Hermione glanced at the book one last time, the weight of its knowledge pressing down on her.

Blood magic.

A door that could lead to salvation… or disaster.

-oIo-

Roran felt queasy.

It had been three days since his wand was made for him.

Luckily, Fredric saw fit to replace his hammer with a rather special hammer. This one had a secret compartment using wedge joints that allowed him to place his wand inside. There was a small opening in the head on the hammer allowing the wand tip to sit flush against the end, ensuring that the iron would not obstruct any spells exiting the wand.

He could strike foes and cast spells almost simultaneously. He had a learned from Harry, Daphne and Astoria quite a large number of what they called "first year spells". Some of them refused to work for him but others were working out quite well. Though his favourites were definitely levioso, petrificus totalus, rictusempra and flipendo.

But today.

Today was the day of battle.

He would be fighting alongside Eragon and Saphira while Astoria stuck with Harry and Daphne. Daphne would be fighting from Aëlindra's back today.

Time for Battle.