Scion of Sorcery, Dimensions of Destiny
Disclaimers: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Review Answers:
Dennisud: Oh, trust me, that puny toad isn't getting away that easily – sadly, neither is this the last time we'll see her;
Jostanos: I think you're either going to hate me or want to marry me when you read this chapter, my dear friend;
KC0IVQ: Let's just say it might not look like it, but I did put a lot of thought into them;
WhiteElfElder: The guy who has Loki as a friend, Stephen for a Dad and Tony as an Uncle falling into a trap? With eyes that see everything and magic on a level these insects can only dream of? Hmm…
"Hem-hem!"
"Oh, no need for sugar-coating the shit you're already spewing, Dolly! I know exactly who you are…in fact, I've been waiting ten years to get a chance to meet you face-to-warty-face, Madam Toad-bitch!"
"MOVE IT, POTTER!"
"Strange," said Harry, before he shrugged, noticing Mana was free from the bonds, and Su was, indeed, at her side.
"But whatever, a deal's a deal…come on, Freddina…time to hop on your lily pad; juicy flies, this-a-way."
Phase One: Potter-Strange?
Chapter 12: So, I Want To Know, Yes I Want To Know, What's The Name Of The Game?
"It's all about the game and how you play it; it's all about control and if you can take it. It's all about your debt and if you can pay it. It's all about pain and who's going to make it…"
CLANG!
The sound of the Auror whom was standing guard outside his interrogation cell, striking the bars of said cell with what looked like the hilt of his wand, cut off Harry's singing, earning a fake pout from the boy in question, "What? Not a fan of Motorhead? Or wrestling? My favourite superstar is The Undertaker, but you can't really sing his theme song; not the real one, anyway all those gongs and organs…can't say I like the American Badass theme much…not the Limp Bizkit version; the other one? Love it: you've done it now, you've gone and made a big mistake…"
CLANG!
Another ringing sound filled the cell, again cutting Harry off.
"You're nuts, Potter!" sneered the guard, earning a shrug from Harry.
"I'm sure Potter is nuts, but speaking as Mr Strange, I like to consider myself mildly sane…I'd say totally, but then I'd disappoint dear uncle Tony; also, I'd listen to those particular lyrics, matey; they are somewhat appropriate for this incident, after all."
"Should have just sent you to Azkaban," growled the Auror, earning a snigger from Harry.
"Trust me, you wouldn't have even gotten me off the mainland before seeing just how screwed you really are; and speaking of screwed simians, can you tell me what's keeping the Pink Gigantopithicus? I'm sure she said she was here to see me face justice for harming innocent purebloods and all that dross."
"Shut it, Potter!" snapped the Auror.
"Yeah, Potter!" Sneered Harry, looking off to the empty side of his cell. "Shut up: can't you see your handsome cellmate, Mr Strange is having a civil conversation with the guy who drew the short straw here?"
"Hem-hem!"
"Ah, Dolly Mixtures!" laughed Harry, leaping to his feet as he asked, "So, are you ready to apologise and admit you were wrong?"
"Oscausi!"
As Harry's lips were fused together, the boy sighed through his nostrils.
'Guess not!'
"THANK YOU FOR SHUTTING HIM UP!" Exclaimed the Auror, unlocking the cell before he pointed his wand at Harry, who raised his hands in the universal sign of being unarmed and vulnerable.
Well…that's what they thought.
"Mmph-mm-mm-mmph-mmffmmm…"
(Translation: take me to your leader)
SoS
It was like walking into the Coliseum, with the Senators and Emperor sat on high, stuffing their faces with food, making themselves sick and then eating some more tripe because it was considered bad manners to leave the table.
At least, this was the image that Harry envisioned as he was led into the large, borderline-amphitheatre where he was greeted by a sea of red robed individuals, all of whom had what he guessed was either the Wizengamot Crest, or the Ministry one inverted, stamped onto their robes. Taking centre stage in the production was a rotund, imbecilic-looking individual whom reminded Harry way too much of a certain blond billionaire he didn't like, minus the blond hair and with even more girth around his waist, suggesting that he was kept in clover quite often.
There were many other men and women all looking at him like sharks smelling blood in the water, while Harry also saw a chair that looked like something out of the London Dungeons, with chains and handcuffs, as well as leg-cuffs ready to snap shut around the occupant.
As the Auror actually pushed Harry to the floor, the young boy heard laughs and titters from the crowd before, letting out a snort of his own, he rose from the ground, his hands still bound as he looked up at the idiot who took charge.
"Mm? Mmmph-mffmm-mm…" (So, are you the one who…)
"Take your seat, boy!" snapped the man in charge, earning a raised finger from Harry – and not the one he wanted to raise.
"Mm! Mmph-mmmffmmm." (Wait! One moment.)
With that, Harry's green eyes flashed before, to the shock of the witches and wizards present, he fired off a beam from his eyes, cutting through the cuffs binding him in place. Once that was done, Harry tapped his lips with his forefingers, before he let out a dramatic-sounding gasp as he looked up at the silent, stunned onlookers.
"Right, now that I've freed myself from that piss-poor excuse for a binding, let me just say: it's nice to meet you all…hope you enjoy your last day of freedom, much less office, especially you, Brown-Haired Trump!"
"How dare you!" snapped the Pink Thing, earning a scoff from Harry.
"How? Well, it's because I'm daring, Warty Wendy," drawled Harry, licking his lips as he added, "Also, before you say anything stupider than you already proved you are, Mr Big Boss Man, let me just say that I have zero intentions of respecting your authority, much less recognising it and that, unless you declare me free and clear in the next…sixty seconds, I won't be responsible for the consequences!"
"Mr Potter…" began the portly-looking leader.
"Strange…and that's 55," said Harry, even checking a watch on his wrist, the sight of which left many of the court speechless.
"Mr Potter…"
"Strange; 50 seconds left."
"Mr Potter!"
"Strange: 45…I know the number's changing, but you're not deaf, are you, Ugly-looking Churchill from another universe?"
"MR HARRY JAMES POTTER…"
"All right, I've had just about enough," sighed Harry, letting his eyes glow again, but this time, he used the glow to emphasise just how pissed off he was as he faced the so-called head honcho, letting his magic fill his voice as he declared to the entire chamber.
"MY NAME IS HARRY JAMES STEPHEN STRANGE! AND, AS I TOLD YOUR PUPPETMASTER, WHO MAY AS WELL HAVE HER HAND BACK UP YOUR ARSE WITH HOW CLOSE SHE IS TO YOU NOW, I DO NOT ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR AUTHORITY BECAUSE OF ONE REASON!"
"And what is that reason, you evil little sod?" asked a member of the court, earning a scoff from Harry.
"Well, Mister Death Eater…"
"I was under the Imperius!" snapped the individual, earning more cries of outrage and agreement from the rest of the court.
"That's nice," drawled Harry, before he startled them all when, just as he had done in the hall on the first day, he then levitated himself up to their level as he continued, "Now you've got that off your chest, let's get back to what's important, meaning me and the fact that you and yours are now about ten seconds away from getting screwed royally and leaving you all without name, rank, blood or title…"
"As if a half-blood can do that!" snapped another member.
Now, Harry smiled as he looked to the individuals who called him out, "I don't have to, Slick; the Washington Accords will do it for me!"
Gasps of horror came from the non-bigoted side of the room – specifically a woman whom Harry suspected his Uncle would have a field day with, thanks primarily to the vulture-topped hat he saw resting in her lap, as well as a more-neutral-looking man and a firm, but fair-looking lady who looked so shocked, her monocle fell from her eye as she saw Harry smile and wink at her.
"Good to know some accept how deep a shit-hole you've dug for yourselves…oh, and that's 5…4…3…2…"
"UNDER THE WASHINGTON ACCORDS, I, DIRECTOR AMELIA BONES, DECLARE HARRY STRANGE FREE AND CLEAR!"
"AMELIA, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Thundered Fudge, earning a smirk from Harry as flashes of red, white and blue surrounded him, earning a sigh from the boy-sorcerer as he returned to the ground…
Just as the door to the courtroom flew open, admitting a new, more-powerful-sounding voice that echoed through the Wizengamot Hall, each word emphasised by what Harry could only assume was a powerful Sonorous Charm, if not just by sheer force of the newcomer's Accidental Magic, given how seriously PO'd he was with the ingrates who now looked to the door as the voice addressed the monkey in the supposed leader's seat.
"CORNELIUS OSWALD FUDGE: HOW DARE YOU ATTEMPT TO BREAK LAWS OLDER THAN YOUR FATHER'S FATHERS ON THE WHIMS OF LIARS, MURDERERS AND WEAK-MINDED LINE-KILLERS! REST ASSURED, YOU MIGHT HAVE GOTTEN THE ALL-CLEAR IN TIME, BUT YOU STILL HAVE SO MUCH TO ANSWER FOR…AND YOU WILL, DO YOU HEAR ME BOY?"
"Huh," said Harry, looking almost disappointed as he mused, "Do you know what? I would have bet money that he might have called down Thor, Loki or even Great-Uncle Nick to come and spank your hides; oh well, even he is good enough to give you the ass-kicking you deserve…I give you the floor now, Master!"
"Thank you, Harrison," said the newcomer, his voice now softer, but no less fierce in nature as he stamped the butt of an ornate-looking white staff on the ground, changing the so-called binding chair into a high-backed throne, which even had the symbol of the Sanctums engraved into it.
As Harry took his seat in this chair, the rest of the Wizengamot took in the sight of the newcomer.
Like so many Wixen, he was dressed in a suit of finely-crafted robes that were black-and-gold in colour, wrapped around his frame so perfectly that they might as well have been a second skin. The stranger also had a head of silver-fox-grey hair with the odd flecks of auburn-brown, suggesting he still had youth and power about him, despite the fact he also looked old and commanding in his presence; the man had a goatee-style beard that was a little similar to the one Harry had often seen on his Father's face, while his eyes were a very powerful shade of lightning-esque silvery-white, staring up at the Wizengamot members with rage and fury etched onto his otherwise-wizened face.
In one hand, as was previously noted, the stranger carried a tall, white staff that had a dragon-shaped mount upon its head, the eyes and mouth of the dragon filled with bright, red-coloured gemstones that pulsed and thrummed, filling the chamber with far more magic than any of the magic users present – even the Death Eaters, not to mention the Aurors and the Director herself – could claim to have felt. His magic was so strong in its presence that many of them were even shivering as they felt the magic wash over them while the stranger took centre stage, standing tall and proud next to Harry, who was now idly checking his nails as he sat upon the throne-like chair conjured by the newcomer.
As he stopped, the stranger took a breath, as though he sought to calm himself, before he looked over to the woman who'd spoken in Harry's defence, his voice again strong, but firm, "Director Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for Albion, yes?"
"Uh…y-y-yes, sir…that…that is correct," stammered Amelia, again feeling a sense of intimidation wash over her as she looked into the man's eyes and felt the air of raw, magical power he commanded as he addressed her directly.
"Relax, my lady," said the stranger, dipping his head courteously as he explained, "And rest assured that you have earned the right to call yourself a friend of my young apprentice and my comrades. Your neutrality, your sense of justice and your willingness to obey planetary magical law, even at the risk of alienating yourself with your…noble, esteemed colleagues; it impresses me greatly. So much so, I have a gift for you that I will hand to you at the conclusion of my affairs, so, for now, would you please join my student here on the floor? And, if you wouldn't mind, kindly ask Mr Moody, Mr Shacklebolt and Miss Tonks to join us…yes, Alastor, I see you there. Presumably, Albus asked you to come here and watch over Harrison."
"And people call my eye annoying," growled a gruff-sounding man, before what could only be described as a modern-day Frankenstein's Monster hobbled out of the darkness where, along with a dark-skinned gentleman and a brown-haired lady who offered Harry a cheeky wink in greeting, he stood with Amelia and the stranger, now forming an almost-perfect protective circle around the boy, who just hummed as he looked up to the girl.
"Sirius is going to love knowing you stood up for me, dear Dora," said the boy, earning a shocked look from the girl, which caused her hair to turn white, earning a smirk from Harry. "Ah, a Metamorphmagus: either that or Mystique's managed to infiltrate the Aurors, but I doubt Charles would let his honorary sister get any closer to me than is comfortable."
"Miss Tonks is a Metamorphmagus, Harrison," explained the stranger whom Harry had addressed as master, earning a nod from the boy, while the stranger frowned as he added, "An untrained one, mind: your shifter's magic is still erratic and hypersensitive to your empathic senses, young lady. Perhaps you might benefit from a visit to Charles, or even a more in-depth lesson, if not small period of study with the Chameleon Corps."
"The…the who?" asked Tonks, earning a clearing of the throat from Harry.
"The ICW's top-level-qualified Metamorph Agents, so-called the Chameleons because…well, you're showing us why, Dora; say, do you mind if I still call you Dora? I know I did by accident when I was…how'd you put it? A cheeky little baby buckie who is the ONLY one who gets to use that name."
Tonks' eyes widened again as she looked Harry in the eyes, though when she did so, she felt her heart stop dead.
"It…it is you…but…but you keep saying…"
"Strange is his name," explained the Master, looking now to the Wizengamot with an air of mockery as he sneered at them.
"Just as mine is Rameses Osiris Wulfgarden, Archmage of the International Confederacy of Wizards, also known as The Voice of Merlin, Supreme Commander-in-Chief of all parliaments of magic in the Wixen Communities of Planet Earth and, as of several years ago, recognised mentor and magic tutor, as well as friend and ally to Harry Strange, Son of the Sorcerer Supreme, Doctor Stephen Strange!"
"So he's a supporter of…mmmph!"
"FINALLY SOMEONE SHUTS HER UP!" Roared Harry, earning approving, amused looks from, more or less, roughly 98, maybe even 99% of the Wizengamot as Rameses silenced the toad with a mere stamp of his staff, before said man rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly.
"Your feebleness is staggering; you obviously need a vacation, Dolores," drawled Rameses, looking again to the supposed leader of Magical Britain as he explained, "Otherwise, Cornelius, not only would your little pink patsy have remembered the cost of defying the Washington Accords and their rites of diplomatic immunity so powerful, it's as though Emrys himself walks the earth, but she would also remember the price for going against an edict set down, granted and enforced by the ICW, and by me, since before this so-called council was even founded!"
"A-A-A-Archmage…" stammered Fudge, earning a scoff from Harry.
"Oh great, another stutterer; and here I thought having one as a teacher was bad enough, but a leader?"
"A leader is one who does not need incentive to be that leader, Harrison," argued Rameses, his eyes flicking to a blond-haired gentleman, whom was one of the few on the bigoted side of the room who had gone whiter than white when Rameses revealed his identity.
Though he was probably the only one who, in that moment, also renounced all ties to the Pink Monster and silently thanked Mother Magic for the letter from his son, informing him that Draco had become an acquaintance to Harry Potter, though he calls himself Strange, and I'm not about to get on the wrong side of him – as Draco had written.
Rameses, meanwhile, turned now to Amelia, who took an involuntary step back from the man before her, while Rameses smiled thinly as he asked, "Madam Director, can you inform your not-so-learned colleague of the terms of the Washington Accords?"
"Of…of course, Archmage," replied Amelia, stepping forwards now, her eyes fixed on Fudge, while Umbridge seemed to have slunk off somewhere, as Amelia went on, her voice growing strong again as she laid down the facts as they were, and not as the bigots wanted them to be.
"The Washington Accords, so named for the first Non-Magical President of what is known today as the United States of America, was an agreement of peace and diplomatic immunity set down between the then-President of MACUSA, and the Minister of Magic at the time in Britain. It was also reinforced by the then-Muggle Prince Regent who would go on to become known as King George IV, who placed both the Muggle Royal Seal and the Ancient Seal of the Pendragon Throne upon the edict, making it so ironclad and set in stone that the only one who can overrule it is…well, him."
She indicated Rameses, earning more gasps from the hall, but Amelia wasn't done, "Under the Accords, anyone put under their protection, such as Mr P…I mean, Strange…"
"Thank you," muttered Harry, though when Amelia and Tonks looked, the latter giggled softly when she noticed that he seemed to have fallen asleep as he was now sitting straight backed in the throne, eyes closed and choosing to ignore his surroundings.
Amelia, meanwhile, kept going with her explanations, "You're welcome, Mr Strange; anyway, as I was saying, when one is put under the protection of the Accords, they have the collective guarantee of the laws of Merlin himself and King Arthur, as well as the Archmage, that no harm will befall them as long as they do not endanger lives directly, or use the Unforgivable Curses successfully on any person, with intent to kill."
"So Harry could use the Torture or Imperius to…to warn…maybe even threaten people?" asked Tonks, alarm evident on her face.
"Self-defence only, Dora, not with genuine murderous intent…no matter how tempting that may be in certain cases," said Harry, before he sighed deeply as he added, "And on that note, do me a favour, would you, Tonks? Duck!"
Tonks did so, before she gasped when Harry sent what could only be described as a blast of raw magical energy off to the left.
Seconds later, a high-pitched, muffled squeal filled the room as Dolores Umbridge was sent flying high into the air. Before she could hit the ceiling, however, those nearby gasped when a ring of gold – a Sling Portal – opened up on the ceiling, sending her flying off into the unknown, before the ring closed up behind her again.
"When I'm gone, she'll be back," explained Harry, his eyes still closed as he added, "Also, Mr Shacklebolt, if you check where she was, you'll find a knife dipped in some sort of poison, along with what I can only assume to be a falsely-signed confession, denouncing and declaring my Father, Doctor Stephen Strange, to be a far worse Dark Lord than Lord Voldemort and Grindelwald combined."
A flick of Shack's wand revealed the items, though when he declared the confession, he jumped, as did Tonks, when Harry opened one eye and fired off another energy blast, incinerating the letter, before he closed his eyes again, sighing deeply, "Sorry, Madam Bones; you were saying?"
As shocked as she was by the boy's sense of awareness – on a level that probably even put Alastor to shame, though he didn't seem to have noticed it, or he probably knew why that was, hence his still-calm demeanour – and the magic he wielded, Amelia took up the conversation again.
"Also, anyone protected under the Accords cannot be arrested in their visiting country, even if the offending clauses are broken; instead, once he or she is accused of a crime, they are extradited to either our chamber here, or the main trial chambers in MACUSA…"
"If not the Tower Hall in the ICW's main headquarters," added Rameses, earning more alarmed, terrified looks from those who seemed to have finally realised just how big a boo-boo they'd made, if not supported in encouraging Umbridge's one-toad crusade against those who were, clearly, more-powerful, more-talented and, yes, even more influential than her.
"And if found guilty, they face the ultimate price, which, for us, would be to have them tossed through the Veil, while MACUSA would either dip them in the Death Potion or, worst of worst case scenarios…"
"They would have their magic drained out of them," explained Harry, now opening his eyes and looking up at a beyond-ashen-faced Fudge as he explained in a stern, clear voice. "And that would be done by the Sorcerer Supreme himself, as the Masters of the Mystic Arts, specifically the good Doctor who I call Daddy, is the only one allowed to possess that knowledge and use it under the authority of such crimes against the Makers."
A few people actually threw up at the idea of having their magic forcibly stolen away from them, but Rameses, who had stayed stone-faced throughout the whole ordeal, hummed once as he asked, "And what, Madam Director, is the punishment for false, if not illegal arrests either for the Court of MACUSA or the Wizengamot of Albion?"
"Total government shutdown and all powers of office transferred from one office to the other," explained Amelia, her voice wavering just slightly as she looked up at Fudge before she delivered the killer blow.
"So, had Mr Strange been put on trial; had he even taken a seat in that old chair or had you banged your gavel, Cornelius, beginning this farce fed to you by that Very Wicked Witch from the Ninth Circle of Hell, you, the Minister for Magic, would have cost everyone in this room, sans Mr Strange, their magic and lost Great Britain the right to hold any office in the Wizengamot; even the Ministry building itself would have crumbled to nothing!"
"And all because one Pink Princess with ugly Pink Panties couldn't accept that her blind notions of law and order were merely scraps in the grand buffet of magic that exists beyond this nation's so-called rules enforced by your bullshit pureblood dogma," sighed Harry, brushing a lock from his hair as he rose up from the chair in which he sat. "It's rather sad, really, but there it is."
"So," said Rameses, drawing everyone's attention back to him, while the Archmage fixed Fudge with such a steely glare, it made the eyes of a Basilisk seem preferable. "First and foremost, Doctor Strange's so-called criminal status will be expunged and cleared because, trust me, were it not for Stephen, this country would be cinders and ashes several times over, while you were running around like headless chickens from that impotent man-child you claim to be a Dark Lord!"
"And the first redeemed Death Eater to argue against old Snake-Face's inferiority will earn a one-way ticket to a place that makes the belly of a Dementor seem preferable," sniggered Harry, spreading his arms invitingly.
Surprisingly, nobody said anything.
"Second," said Rameses, now turning to Harry as he asked, "Would you mind, Harrison?"
"Do I have to Master?" asked Harry, pouting with genuine childish dislike as he groaned, "I've only just got my hearing back from her voice."
"Harrison."
Heaving a sigh, Harry waved his hands, opening a Sling Portal, which dropped Umbridge onto the floor, where Alastor pinned her under his own staff, his lip curling into a snarl, while Umbridge screeched.
"I have been falling…FOR THIRTY MINUTES!"
"And there goes my hearing again," drawled Harry.
"Shame," said Tonks, tousling his hair as she laughed, "Because now you can't hear me say it's okay to use my name in full if you like, Harrikins."
"Cheers Nymphadora!"
Even Amelia laughed as Tonks pouted, "Oh, so he can hear when you don't want him to…I'll get you back for that, kid."
"Love you too," laughed Harry, blowing Tonks a kiss, which was her cue to turn as red as Gryffindor's banner.
Rameses, meanwhile, was addressing the hall once again, "Next, I want you to let it be very well-known…and I am sure Miss Skeeter can assist you, once she hears about this meeting!"
"Why are you raising your voice, Master?" asked Harry, hiding a smile as he knew why, and even sensed the retreating offender.
"It seems to be the only way anyone listens in this nation, my young apprentice," chuckled Rameses, earning a shrug from Harry, before the Archmage continued, again directing his attention to Fudge as he pressed on.
"Mr Strange is to only be known as Mr Strange, regardless of the origins of his birth: as his mentor, I can tell you for myself that whoever you think he is, that person will be gone once Harrison undergoes the Ritual of Rechristening and, as I imagine he stated upon his arrest, becomes the Heir of what will be known as The Most Ancient and Noble House of Strange!"
"I did say that," said Harry, indicating the toad under Moody's staff. "Not that Shriekie there listened to me, or anyone other than her croaks, mind."
"And that brings me to the final bit of business," said Rameses, now turning to Dolores, who looked terrified as she found herself eye-to-eye with the dragon's head atop Rameses' staff, which actually seemed to snarl at the toad while Rameses laughed softly.
"It seems Matsuo trusts you as little as I do, my dear," explained the Archmage, nudging Umbridge with the tip of the dragon, Matsuo's, nose, his own eyes shining brightly as he asked, "Which is why I warn you: lie, and my friend here will make sure you never speak another word against anyone, mostly because you'll be sent somewhere so full of silence, you won't know up from down, much less anything else…ready?" (1)
Umbridge wanted to argue, but a snarling roar from the dragon made her nod faster than a Churchill dog, earning a smile from Rameses.
"Very good…now, tell me: who dared to send you a missive, saying that Harrison had broken any rules or laws, thereby making all this happen in the first place? Tell me and you'll be free to go…albeit with all office ranks and titles stripped and you exiled from these shores; a suitable form of compensation for threatening accords that have existed for nearly 300 years, wouldn't you agree, Madam Bones?"
Amelia nodded, earning a smile from Rameses, "Also, I haven't forgotten the gift I offered you, but first…the name, Dolores Jane Umbridge!"
Umbridge screamed it for all to hear.
"SEVERUS SNAPE!"
A raw blast of magic filled the chamber.
When the Aurors, Amelia and Rameses turned to the source, Rameses' eyes widened when he saw the throne had been incinerated.
And Harry was gone.
"Shit!" snapped Rameses, looking now to Amelia and her Aurors, "I'm sending you to Hogwarts: be quick or you might have to risk the Accords yourself…and worse! Oh, and apologies if this alarms you, but there's no time for explanations: do it, my old friend."
Amelia barely had a moment to respond before she gasped, along with the others, when the dragon, Matsuo, took off from the staff, spreading his wings like a phoenix before he, as well as the Aurors and the Director, all vanished in a burst of golden-coloured magic, leaving Rameses alone in the Chamber, a second dragon now mounted upon his staff.
"Pray they get to him in time…and until then, Cornelius, make a choice: step up and join the rest of us in the twenty-first century or resign and allow someone with real understanding of the world's advancements to take your seat, because otherwise, I promise you…"
Here, he looked to the throne, or what was left of it, and the white-faced toad who was sitting in a pool of her own juices as she looked at the chair.
Rameses' voice cut through the hall one last time, though his words did nothing to calm anyone.
"You will know what it means to tickle a sleeping dragon…one you may as well call the God of Dragons, because nothing will be left…nothing!"
Chapter 12 and…mmm…shall Phase One end here…with a cliffhanger…or…nah, what the heck: 13 chapters for Phase One; oddly appropriate, isn't it?
One more won't hurt…well, maybe not us, but what about Mr I Just Can't Let It Go?
Also, with Umbridge likely heading for other waters with nothing, but her fascination for the sound of her own voice, what may happen to Britain, and Harry Strange, next?
Also, what is the gift Rameses has for Amelia?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Harry gave the git a chance…NO MORE! Also, Amelia gets her gift, a new friend gets a reward of his own and Harry gets a chance to come down from a high he never wanted…good thing he's got a place for it now;
Please Read and Review
NUMBERED ANNOTATIONS: (1)
So, I imagine a VERY dear friend of mine gets the joke here, and if so, he/she/they are welcome.
I didn't want to crack it like my other fic, but I just had to find a way to add a character they created to this story and then I thought – hey, why not make them a relic owned by a guy who has 'rafter spies' everywhere?
So, my dear friend Jostanos, you are welcome
PORTRAYAL:
Archmage Rameses Wulfgarden – Oded Fehr
(Ever since I first created this character in infamy/reference, I thought of this actor playing him; yes, the Egyptian reference in his name might have been a clue, but, hey, that's the fun of fanfiction)