Guest: I thought it was fairly obvious from the start that Adrastia is a psychopath? I don't think I ever accidentally implied that there was anything sweet about her.

Joe Lawyer has been a huge help as always and gets all the kudos.

The Raven Host was gathered in record time and it was mere minutes after Amelia Bones' mirror call that they portkeyed into London.

The head of the DMLE had been in too great a rush to summon help to actually tell them which part of London to go to, but it wasn't hard to guess with thirty or so giants rampaging through the city, gleefully smashing everything in reach, illuminated by the many lights put up for the festivities and the burning buildings.

There was no fucking way that the Obliviators were going to make this one disappear.

"That has to be every male giant that's still alive." Dora whispered with a sort of stunned horror.

That was probably true. There had been less than eighty giants left in the world the last time Harry had checked, a single small tribe. Some of that was due to their inherently violent tendencies and resulting infighting, but mostly it was because wizards had either killed them or herded them into remote mountain valleys in an effort to keep them from violating the Statute of Secrecy with their mere existence.

"Girls, go see if you can put those giants down. Raven Host, go after the inferi Bones said were here. All of you watch out for Death Eater ambushes and mundane police. They won't know who to shoot at so keep up kinetic barriers, but do not attack them even if they fire at you unless you have absolutely no other choice. The last thing we need is to be tarred with the same brush as the Death Eaters after this mess is done with."

They all nodded and flew towards their objectives, the girls under their own power and the Raven Host on brooms.

Harry himself went to find the crazy bastard that had started this, a simmering anger boiling in his veins. He didn't much care about the tremendous loss of life this stupid stunt had no doubt already caused, but the consequences of it infuriated him. Yes, the Statute of Secrecy was doomed to fail soon anyway – maybe not today or tomorrow or next year or even the next decade, but it was going to fail – and it would have been a mess no matter what, but to have it happen like this ?

Preserving the world's magic would have been hard enough if the secret got out under the best of circumstances, now it would be a miracle if they were able to avoid a modern series of government-backed witch hunts.

Nothing he saw on his fly-by improved his opinion of the situation. The streets had been packed with people for the New Year's celebration and the death toll had to be in the hundreds or even thousands already. The giants had blocked the roads with debris from the buildings they smashed, there were inferi tearing into people everywhere and the Death Eaters had set fire to a bunch of shit.

The Aurors were also out in force, but it was clear that the magnitude of the problem was simply beyond them. The Death Eaters and the inferi they could have handled eventually, but even a single giant could soak up so much damage that they had no hope of containing the situation in any kind of reasonable timeframe. And then there was Voldemort himself.

Harry found him on a street some distance away from the main chaos. He was being confronted by some of the Ministry's best Aurors, plus Amelia Bones. They couldn't have really challenged him to begin with, as was obvious by the way he was toying with them, but the situation was made even worse because he was summoning people from the panicked horde fleeing past him and using them as either shields or projectiles and laughing madly the whole time. Clearly a new tactic he had adopted since their last encounter. Only now was this insane attack on London was starting to make some sense, a horrible sort of sense.

Harry landed just in front of the Aurors and the fight immediately ground to a halt.

"Harry Potter!" Voldemort exclaimed, opening his arms grandly as if pleased that his greatest enemy was here. His expression was something that could have been pictured next to the dictionary definition of 'demented'. "You are finally here. Do you see how the muggle filth flees before us, Harry? Do you see our DESTINY?"

"Go pacify the rest of his forces, I've got this." Harry said calmly to Amelia Bones, not moving his eyes away from the madman in front of him.

The head of the DMLE didn't protest at being ordered around by someone that was ostensibly the same age as her niece. There were bigger problems at hand.

"DO YOU SEE, HARRY?" Voldemort shouted when he didn't get an immediate response. His aura was a swirling mass of chaos, with little islands of stability forming only to be swept away almost immediately after.

Harry looked over to the side where the body of a young girl barely in her teens was laying, then to the many others littering the street. There were still people running around them, but they gave both wizards a wide berth and fearful looks.

His eyes turned yellow as they swung back to Voldemort. "All I see is the doom of everything you've ever claimed to champion."

The pasty, noseless face was made even uglier by the hatred it displayed. "And who will bring that doom?" Voldemort demanded and fired a curse at random at the fleeing non-magicals. "This weak filth?! They will finally learn their place!"

Harry shook his head as the man that had been hit fell and the panic around them intensified. "What a sad waste of potential you are. You could have been great, but instead you became... this ."

The Dark Lord was understandably infuriated at being condescended to by someone many deacdes his junior. "I am the greatest wizard alive! I AM LORD VOLDEMORT!"

"You are a dangerous idiot." Harry retorted flatly, taking a firmer grip on his staff.

The hair-trigger psychopath reacted in the predictable manner, with a deluge of vicious curses.

Harry blocked a few before rising into the air, ignoring the cries of pain and terror as the people that had been behind him were hit. He could do nothing to protect them and standing still in an attempt to do so would just get him killed.

Now that there were no non-combatants in the direct line of fire, he retaliated with his own nasty spells. Unfortunately, Voldemort again did the predictable thing and repositioned himself so that he hovered over the heads of the fleeing people.

"What's wrong, Harry?" The Dark Lord called out gleefully. "Afraid of hurting your precious muggles?"

Harry ground his slightly pointy teeth together in frustration. This new strategy of Voldemort's was cowardly, insane and would have devastating long-term consequences, but it was unfortunately effective. He could theoretically disregard the lives of the random bystanders and fight back at full power, but as a legitimate head of state – albeit a tiny state – he couldn't be seen indiscriminately butchering everyone that got in his way. Not if he ever wanted any peace in his life after Voldemort at any rate. This was especially true now that the Statute of Secrecy had been so unceremoniously tossed out the window.

That was when they heard a sonic boom, followed by a series of explosions and bellows of pain from the giants.

Harry already had a good guess as to what had happened, but Voldemort had to fly upwards to see.

"What is this? What happened to my giants?" He demanded, seeing all the oversized humanoids felled.

"The consequences." Harry scowled.

It took an effort of will for Tonks to unclench her jaw as they flew towards the closest giant.

She was old enough to remember the last few years of Voldemort's previous reign of terror and the aftermath of it. She knew the despair people had felt when it seemed as if the Dark Lord could do whatever he pleased without being challenged.

It was different this time, Voldemort's mad ambitions were being smothered before they could take root and Tonks had always been proud to be part of the reason that he was being stymied, even if she wasn't always proud of the methods.

Then the mad fucker goes and attacks London. There was no point to it, Voldemort had to know that he'd never get anywhere without defeating Harry first and he had to have seen his enemy's growing strength. How was killing random non-magicals supposed to get around that? It couldn't. This felt like the actions of a petulant child kicking down a sand castle because the other kids wouldn't let him do what he wanted.

Tonks couldn't shake the nagging thought that they could have handled things differently. Voldemort obviously had to be fought, but surely there had been some way they could have done it that wouldn't have led to this mess?

Well, no time for wondering about that now, it was time to kill some giants. Although a deadly threat even to experienced wizards with their size and resilience, the mobility granted by flight rather removed any real danger.

One of the giants was wearing a gleaming metal helmet of exquisite quality. That sparked something in Tonks' memory. Hadn't Dumbledore been trying to convince – bribe, if you wanted to be honest – the giants to stay out of the war? Harry had found it terribly amusing that another giant had killed the ruling gurg, the chieftain of a giant tribe, taken Dumbledore's gifts for himself and then joined up with Voldemort anyway. One of these gifts had been a goblin-forged helmet.

Tonks exchanged a quick nod with Fleur, not needing to speak to pick out a target. She knew that Luna would hang back and keep an eye out for other threats.

They used the same approach that Fleur had used in Hogsmeade. Conjure a serrated iron spike and banish it forcefully at a giant's throat. Messy and quite off-putting to see the literal rivers of blood gushing out of the massive humanoids, but it was the most efficient way to put them down.

Four of them had fallen before the other giants cottoned on to the fact that something was killing them. Even so, they couldn't do more than bellow in impotent fury. Flying was so overpowered, as Harry would say.

"Look out." Luna called out in warning, casting a powerful shield around them.

Tonks and Fleur reacted on reflex, one pouring her own magic into Luna's shield and the other conjuring a thick swarm of bugs to absorb anything that might get through anyway.

A volley of nasty curses splashed against the shield and one made it through, killing off many of the bugs but expelling its power on them.

"No-Nose must really be getting desperate if he's been teaching you lot how to fly." Tonks commented mockingly as their attackers came into view.

"Shut your mouth, whore!" A distinctly deranged looking Barty Crouch Jr. said as he floated towards them with several other Death Eaters at his back. His face had a nervous tic to it. Make that several nervous tics, she amended when she noted his eyebros twitching and tongue flicking out every few seconds.

"Why do they always say that?" Luna wondered with honest curiosity, tilting her head sideways.

"Harry would probably say that minions don't rate any good trash talk dialogue." Tonks shrugged. "As much as his video game logic pisses me off sometimes, he's probably right. They wouldn't be serving a sadistic madman if they were smart after all."

"We're going to kill you sluts, and then we're going to rape your corpses." Rodolphus Lestrange bellowed furiously.

"See what I mean?"

"Is it just me, or are they looking a bit...damaged?" Fleur interjected, actually sounding amused.

Tonks had to agree. Barty Crouch's spastic facial tics were just the most obvious sign of something being seriously wrong with all of them. Lestrange seemed permanently enraged and the last obvious leader of the group, Rookwood, was just floating quietly next to them with a dead look in his eyes. Although Tonks was not as good at sensing auras as Harry – or even as good as Fleur to be honest – she could still easily sense that these were some messed up people.

Figures, really. As Voldemort's top remaining followers, they'd have borne the brunt of his attentions. The nine masked Death Eaters behind them didn't feel quite as bad off, but they probably didn't qualify as entirely sane anymore either.

"The master has tasked us with killing you." Rookwood spoke in a dead tone that perfectly matched his expression. His had been the curse that made it through their shield.

"See, that's going to be a problem." Tonks said, taking a firmer grip on her staff. She also instinctively moved body mass around to reinforce her bones and muscles. Within moments, she was in the lean, short-haired, flat-chested, genderless combat form that she always assumed for serious fighting.

"I'm not going to let you hurt my family." Luna added. Despite her simple words and tone, the resolve behind the statement was as unbending as iron.

"And I will burn you for trying." Fleur finished with a hard glare. Her normally sensual aura gave way to the more incendiary parts of her ancestry, creating a slight heat shimmer effect around her.

There was a long moment when everything seemed to freeze – the bellows of the giants, the screams of the people, the sounds of combat and the roar of flames – before the tension suddenly snapped and spells started flying.

All three of them knew that if Voldemort had taught this bunch how to fly, that they were likely a specialised kill team or something of that nature, so they absolutely could not allow themselves to be encircled. They flew backwards in unison, Tonks and Luna blocking while Fleur sent out a wave of fire to give the Death Eaters something to worry about.

The fire guttered out under multiple dispelling charms and the Death Eaters pressed forward like a bloodthirsty flock of oversized bats.

The girls gave way easily, seeing no need to engage head on.

While Tonks and Luna continued to focus on shielding, Fleur hurled fireballs back at their foes.

"Having trouble aiming, creature?" Lestrange sneered as he and his fellows easily dodged most of the counter-attack.

"Am I?" Fleur asked back, black eyes glittering.

Rookwood started in surprise and turned his head around. His eyes went wide as he saw over a dozen fireballs hovering in the air behind their backs.

"Look out!" He called out a warning, just as the fireballs began moving.

To the Death Eaters' credit, they reacted swiftly and managed to put up a strong shield to defend themselves, but they were in a bad situation by anyone's standards. The fireballs hammered the shield and clipped one of the Death Eaters that was on the edge of it. At the same time, Tonks cast a Bone Mangler, the Bone Breaker's more vicious big brother, at Lestrange's legs.

One of the lesser Death Eaters saw it coming and put up a shield, but the power behind it shattered it and sent him plummeting down to the ground as he lost control of his flight spell.

"Get in between the buildings!" Crouch bellowed a few seconds later.

"This again." Fleur's lip curled, immediately seeing the familiar strategy of hiding behind human shields to curtail the power they could bring to bear.

It made tactical sense, the Death Eaters had obviously figured out that they were less coordinated, less comfortable in the air and just plain less skilled, but it was still a damn frustrating way to fight.

A sonic boom cut off any possible reply, followed by a quick series of explosions blooming against the bodies of the giants, whom they had moved some distance away from during their brief fight. Great bloody craters were blown out of their flesh and they fell.

"Were those military jets?" Luna sounded entirely too excited for the situation.

"Yes, yes they were." Tonks sighed, the sense of losing control intensifying.

"So much for the mighty giants." Fleur quipped. Anyone that knew anything about the modern world could guess that giants would be nothing but target practice to a modern military. There was no creature alive that was tough enough to shrug off a missile.

"Let's just get the Death Eaters." Tonks grumbled. "And try to take at least Lestrange alive."

Despite knowing that taking a page out of Voldemort's book and disregarding any considerations of collateral damage would be a terrible idea in the long term, it sure was starting to feel tempting when the ugly bastard kept on hiding behind human shields.

Trying to cut off access points for the fleeing non-magicals was pointless because Voldemort could simply relocate and there were so many that he was not in danger of running out anytime soon.

Harry was not having a terribly hard time of it keeping himself free of injury. Not only was he reasonably familiar with Voldemort's fighting style and spell repertoire by now, but he also had the high ground advantage, so to speak.

That didn't help him actually do anything to the maniac though. He was having to improvise a whole new combat style on the fly, one that would allow him to focus magic with pinpoint precision. Unfortunately, this was a lot harder than the gratuitous destruction he had relied on before and the middle of a battle was not a good place to be doing this.

"You are weak, Harry!" Voldemort cackled crazily. "Your concern for these petty creatures makes you weak!"

Harry wondered if Voldemort had completely lost the ability to plan long term and consider any viewpoint other than his own. It was starting to feel like it.

"Why don't you come up here and we'll see who's weak?" Harry taunted, not really expecting it to work.

That was why he was very surprised when it actually did.

"Tom, I'm surprised at you." He said mockingly. "Where is this sudden bout of bravery coming from?"

"I have nothing to fear from you, Potter!" Voldemort spat angrily. "I am immortal!"

"Immortal is not the same as invincible." Harry countered.

"Even if you strike me down, I shall return, greater and more powerful." The Dark Lord continued boasting as if Harry hadn't spoken. "You didn't find all my Horcruxes, and now you never will!"

"Ah, finally figured out I was on to that, did you?" Harry asked sighed. "How typical of you to be as difficult as possible. Aren't you even a little bit tired of clinging to this sad existence of yours by now?"

"DO NOT MOCK ME!" Voldemort shrieked and the battle continued.

Harry was simultaneously pleased and irritated to discover that they were in a firm stalemate. Not only had they already used up most of their respective surprises during their previous clashes, but Voldemort was also fighting with less cunning than before and the need to keep a part of their focus on maintaining their flight slowed things down, which worked more in his favor. The air around them rippled and twisted from the ruinous power of their spells, but the battle wasn't actually going anywhere. It was technically progress compared to barely being able to keep up, but far from ideal.

"It won't go away." Harry spoke when there was a lull in the fighting.

"What won't go away?" Voldemort sneered.

"The fear. Tell me, what was it like to be a disembodied wraith? Did you feel the hungry presence of the Void all around you?" Harry kept his voice low and twined a compelling enchantment into his words. The Dark Lord's mind was clearly unstable and given the shattered state of his soul he was more than likely permanently emotionally unstable as well, so this avenue of attack may be promising.

"Why don't you find out for yourself!" Voldemort snarled and lashed out with yet another vicious curse.

Harry blocked it with a chuckle. The spell was familiar and easily undone. "Oh, I feel it always. But unlike you, I don't see anything to be afraid of."

"I fear nothing!"

"Is that why you've mutilated your soul to stay anchored to this world? Because you aren't afraid?"

Voldemort made an incoherent sound of rage and swooped in between the buildings again. His yell echoed strangely and every bit of glass he passes shattered and followed him.

Harry gave chase, but stayed back far enough to give himself time to react. He had a feeling that he knew what the play was here and it wasn't terribly dangerous to him.

Voldemort soon landed on the street, this one mostly empty, but there were a few people peeking out of doors and windows.

The Dark Lord raised his arms like a conductor of a grand orchestra and all the shattered glass flew towards Harry.

Who simply raised his hand in the universal symbol for 'stop' and the glass stopped, shuddered in place and fell to the ground.

"Really? You thought that would work on me of all people?" The crude telekinesis was an advanced application of the Will Manifestation part of using magic without a wand. Easily countered by one who also knew it, especially when they held greater mastery.

"Curse you, Potter!" Voldemort screamed, firing a chain of spells before flinging a parked car at his enemy.

Harry glided to the side to avoid a trio of particularly nasty curses, blocked one that was merely debilitating and created a sort of magical ramp in the path of the car so that its trajectory was adjusted. It hit one of the buildings further down the road up on the first storey with a thunderous crash and then fell down on the sidewalk, bounced a few times, slid for a few more meters and finally stopped in a barely recognizable heap. Judging by the screaming behind him, it may have killed a few people, but he couldn't afford to take the time to block the improvised projectile head on.

It wasn't even because the car had a lot of kinetic energy. Bullets had a lot of kinetic energy and they were pitifully easy to block, but magic didn't work that way. Bigger objects simply had more metaphysical 'weight' that allowed them to smash through shields.

"Why do you curse me, Tom?" Harry once again wrapped his words in subtle compulsion magic. "I am the only thing you have left to live for."

"YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME! JUST DIE!"

"You may as well ask to live without blood, or deny you breathe air!" Harry retorted mockingly, having to fight down an inappropriate grin at getting a chance to quote the Lord of Murder. Pissing the twat off was even more satisfying with video game quotes. It didn't even matter whether there was any truth to what he was saying, as long as it made him angry.

"I HATE YOU!" Voldemort howled, nearly incoherent with rage. All pretense at sophistication had long since been defenestrated. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUTUP!"

"I know you do." Harry nodded sagely, easily deflecting the spells coming his way. The Dark Lord was nearly frothing at the mouth like a rabid animal at this point and barely structuring his attacks. The variety left much to be desired as well. Still dangerous, but predictable. "That's why you need me. Who would you hate if I was gone? What would be left of you?"

"NRRRRGH!"

"That's why you will never be free of your fears." Harry continued over Voldemort's latest attempt to kill him. "You may have convinced yourself that your anchors are armor keeping away the Reaper's scythe, but in truth they are chains hooked into your heart and what remains of your soul, and their bite is made that much more cruel for being self-wrought."

The shield spell rippled like a pool of water as it absorbed Voldemort's reply. Harry's staff crackled with electrical energy as he pointed it at the Dark Lord.

Voldemort's mad eyes widened and he quickly conjured up a semi-solid silver shield. Just in time too, as the arc of lighting struck it mere moments later. The shield seemed to suck in and disperse most of the energy, quite unlike what would happen if the shield was really something that conducted electricity as well as actual silver, and he was sent sliding back a good two meters from the force of the impact.

"You think power will ease the pain of your existence? Only an honest death will grant you relief, but you are too much of a coward to accept it, so you lash out and make the world scream alongside you, as if hurting less by comparison will make it more bearable. What a pitiable creature you are, and how embarrassing for me to be associated with you through prophecy."

Harry kept walking forward as he spoke, by now having a downright easy time of it. Voldemort had abandoned all planning, strategy and cunning, degenerating to just throwing out the most vicious curses in his arsenal. Curses that he was quite familiar with and knew how to counter, so it didn't particularly matter how much rage-fuelled power they were cast with. There was never any benefit to losing control of your emotions like that, especially for a wizard. The only thing Harry really had to watch out for was the occasional Cruciatus, but that one had a very distinct energy signature and could be seen coming a mile away.

Inversely, his return fire often sent Voldemort stumbling. With his current state of mind, it was obviously hard to think of defense and it showed. Harry could have pressed him much harder in fact, but he deliberately made it seem as if the fight was a lot more even than it actually was. Voldemort didn't pick up on this because rage had driven all thought from his head that didn't include hurting one Harry Potter, which was Just As Planned.

If he could just get close enough to lunge at the snakey bastard and grab him by the throat it would be game over. There were ways to indefinitely contain even someone that couldn't be killed.

Unfortunately, Voldemort eventually cottoned on to the fact that only cycling between three or four of his favorite curses was counter-productive and brought his rage back under control. Tenuous control, but control all the same. He also stopped responding to goading, which made further advancement inadvisable. That was Not As Planned, but there was a good reason why going for physical contact was a target of opportunity instead of Plan A.

At least Voldy still hadn't remembered that he could hide behind random bystanders. The incredibly stupid random bystanders that clearly had deficient survival instincts, as Harry's peripheral vision occasionally glimpsed them gaping at the fight from behind corners, doorways or windows. Some of them were even recording it! No doubt this was going to end up on YouTube, if it hadn't already.

How strange it must look to them, when they couldn't see the spells. One freakish, noseless, red-eyed, man/snake hybrid waving about a pale stick, facing off against a yellow-eyed man with half his face covered in scars waving about a blood-red staff, with shit exploding or melting or growing teeth or what have you all around them. The occasional blast of elemental magic or physical projectile would be the only thing they could see.

"You're looking a bit peaky over there, Tom." Harry quipped when another lull in the fighting occured, standing on top of a parked car that was miraculously undamaged. The street around them was torn to pieces and littered with all sorts of debris. He could hear the distinct chopping sounds of a helicopter somewhere relatively close by.

His observation made little sense to regular sight. While Voldemort was certainly breathing hard, his nose slits flaring with every breath, he looked like he could easily still keep going. It was the state of his magic that Harry was commenting on. The Dark Lord had been running on rage for quite a while now and his aura was much diminished as a result, a clear indication of impending magical exhaustion.

Not that Harry wasn't feeling the effects of trading spells with such a powerful wizard, but he hadn't been recklessly burning through his strength the way his enemy had. The drain was in fact the most likely reason for Voldemort's mad rage cooling a bit.

"I will kill you." Voldemort spoke as if he was trying to strangle the words, then he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his robe. There had actually been some foamy spit dribbling down his chin, so great was his fury. Rather unsightly, actually "I will kill everyone and everything you value."

"More threats? How droll. The words are as empty now as they have always been, but I suppose your pride won't let you run away without saying them." Harry mocked. "Go on then, run away. We can continue this once you've recovered your strength."

Voldemort clenched his fists and ground his teeth together, but he neither attacked nor fled. Ah, pride, so often the doom of powerful men. Harry knew that he would have hated having to swallow his own and fleeing in disgrace if their positions were reversed. How much worse must it be for a Dark Lord who had nothing to cling to besides power?

"Well, weren't you leaving?" Harry prompted after a few seconds of angry silence. "You know you can't beat me, so you might as well activate that portkey I know you have on you."

The way Voldemort's body tensed and his magic rose betrayed the choice he made.

Harry jumped over the Killing Curse, hearing the car's windshield shatter behind him as it was hit by the deadly spell. He retaliated by melting the bit of road Voldemort was standing on into sticky tar.

Instead of gliding backwards to give himself more room, the Dark Lord lunged forward.

Harry was surprised, but also gleeful. If the fool got close enough he would throw aside his staff, dodge or tank whatever spell Voldemort was going to throw and give the ugly bastard a big hug. Big enough to crush his spine.

Voldemort swung his wand in a wide arc and a very familiar feeling descended, instantly putting an end to that plan. Dark roared into the world in the shape of flame.

Harry brought his will down on the forming Fiendfyre, trying to smother it before it could erupt, but he was losing ground. The Dark fire was difficult enough to grapple with at the best of times and with Voldemort also willing it to spread and destroy as it wanted to do anyway, he wasn't able to snuff it out and it burst to life.

"Now we will both die, Harry!" Voldemort cackled through the rapidly spreading flames. "But I will return and you will not."

That was a good plan, Harry had to admit. If you were going to be unkillable then you might as well abuse the shit out of it. He certainly would have done so a long time ago.

He quickly cycled through his available options. Keep fighting against both the natural inclinations of the Fiendfyre and Voldemort's will? Certain death. Fly out? Certain death. Apparition? It would take a moment to gather his focus, possible interference from the Fiendfyre. High chance of crippling injury or death. Portkey? Not quite instantaneous, unknown interaction with the Fiendfyre. Risky, best kept as a last resort. Bunkering down and calling the girls to come bail him out? Minor damage to his pride, but by far the safest option.

"This will not be the end of me." He stated with simple finality, setting his feet into a wide stance and gripping his staff in front of him. The basilisk-shaped Fiendfyre coiled around him as if it was trying to crush him, but it could not enter the exclusion zone he was maintaining.

"I will not be denied!" Voldemort hissed furiously and pressed harder, trying to force the fire into his little safety bubble while also maintaining his own.

Left unattended except for not being allowed to consume the two most powerful sources of magic nearby, the Fiendfyre began turned its attention to everything around them.

The sudden eruption of flames was visible far and wide. Those who recognised the unusual shape and behavior of it as Fiendfyre were nearly frozen with horror at the thought of that particular bit of magic being loose in the middle of a crowded city.

Tonks, Luna and Fleur instantly knew that Harry was in the thick of it, even before the tug on their blood came.

They abandoned their running battle with Rookwood, Crouch, Lestrange and their cronies without a second thought and sped towards the Fiendfyre. Their man was calling for help and he was not the sort to do that unless he really needed it.

"They are following us." Luna noted moments later, uncharacteristic frustration in her voice.

Tonks and Fleur took a quick look behind them and scowled. It would have been a little funny to have their quarry chasing them for a change, but right now it was a problem they could have done without.

"Go, I'll keep them busy." Tonks ordered.

Fleur hesistated for a moment, but they could all see the the Fiendfyre basilisk coiling around the spot where they sensed Harry was and there was no telling how long he would be able to hold out. Even if it didn't burn him, he would run out of air soon. They just didn't have time to deal with the Death Eaters first.

"Be careful." She said before speeding away with Luna.

Tonks peeled away to the side, throwing a few spells at the pursuing Death Eaters to draw their attention, thinking of viable strategies.

There were no non-combatants to use as shields up here, she was more comfortable in the air than them as well as suffciently skilled and powerful to be confident in handling them three, four or even five on one. Unfortunately there were still nine of the original dozen left and whatever training Voldemort had put them through had made them capable of mustering up the will and focus necessary to use the Unforgivables in combat. She couldn't beat them in a straight fight.

But she didn't need to beat them, did she? All she had to do was keep them away from Luna and Fleur. Simple enough. Their numerical advantage wouldn't mean anything if they couldn't catch her.

It worked well for a while, as the Death Eaters failed to move quickly enough to encircle her and she was able to lead them further away, but that success didn't last long.

"Go after the other two bitches!" She heard Lestrange holler. "We'll take this one!"

Tonks scowled angrily when she saw Rookwood and Crouch break off and head towards where Luna and Fleur were even now trying to subdue the Fiendfyre. That just wouldn't do.

She dove towards the group of six that thought they could turn their backs on her like a missile. Lestrange and his group sent a few spells her way but she sensed them coming and was able to dodge them blind.

Since getting into another spell exchange would swiftly devolve into a repeat of the previous situation, Tonks elected to do something a little different. The Death Eaters were not as fast in the air as she was and catching up was easy, but she didn't stop. Instead, she turned so that she was flying feet first when she collided with one of the black-robed scum, Rookwood to be precise, since she had pegged him as the most dangerous of the bunch. The feeling of bones crunching under her heels was immensely satisfying, as was seeing the former Unspeakable plummet to the ground. He didn't make much noise, oddly enough. Her metamorph-reinforced bones and muscles allowed her to absorb the force of the impact with just a grunt and a slight twinge of pain.

"What?" Crouch spluttered in shock as he turned towards her.

Tonks lunged at him and swung her staff like a club. Hardly the most sophisticated use of a magical focus, but it sure was nice to see him reel back with blood and broken teeth flying from his mouth.

The lesser Death Eaters didn't know what to do. One of their targets was right there, but she was in the middle of them and brawling like a muggle. A flying muggle, but still a muggle. Any spells they cast were just as likely to hit one of their own as her and getting away was proving problematic.

Tonks, on the other hand, was actually enjoying this. Fighting these bastards earlier had been frustrating in the extreme because they kept hiding behind hostages, so clobbering them over the head and watching them fall as they lost control of their flight due to both the hits and the presence of her much stronger aura was kind of therapeutic. Not all of them crashed to the ground – most didn't in fact, now that the element of surprise was lost she couldn't quite manage to get another crippling blow in and a looming date with asphalt or concrete at terminal velocity was excellent motivation to regain focus – but that just meant that she could do it all over again. If they tried to grab onto her, she would let out blasts of raw force that pushed them back and if they tried to get away she could jump right back on top of them. There were a few close calls when they scattered to open up space, but her awareness and the resilience of her basilisk hide armor was good enough to see her through.

Then she recalled that Harry insisted that they all carry knives. She'd never gotten to use hers, but this was an exactly the situation to do so.

"Kill her, damn you!" Crouch shouted in a panic, barely coherent with his ruined mouth. He was one of those that had managed to spare himself from the fall. The cause of his panic was that he had just seen one of his men get their throat slashed and the bloodied knife was now coming his way.

Lestrange had long since caught up and decided to do as his fellow Death Eater requested. That Crouch was between him and the metamorph was not something that concerned him. Their master's Fiendfyre was gone and he could already see Potter and his other two witches approaching. Terror filled him at the thought of failing to kill at least one of them as the master had commanded.

Jaw clenched so tightly that it hurt, he cast the most powerful blasting curse he could right at Crouch's back.

Tonks had her knife buried in said Death Eater's guts and the proximity of his aura caused enough interference in her sensing that she didn't become aware of the spell in time. It hit and pretty much ripped right through him.

Head ringing from the explosion and wounded, she instinctively flew backwards, towards safety. Moments later she hit something and a familiar, powerful presence enveloped her.

My hand is gone . Tonks noted with surreal calm, staring at the bloodied sleeve of her coat. She had already automatically started using her metamorph power to seal the ragged wound, but it was still quite gruesome to look at. Didn't hurt much though. And I'm in shock.

Strong hands turned her around to face a pair of fiercely glowing yellow eyes set in a familiar face that was scrunched together in concern. She liked them better green.

A little earlier...

Harry remained as immovable as a boulder, maintaining a zone of safety within the Fiendfyre inferno in spite of Voldemort's increasingly more desperate efforts to disrupt it. The Dark Lord had expended too much of his strength earlier and would soon be consumed in his own conflagration.

That wouldn't do much to improve Harry's situation though. One did not simply get encircled by Fiendfyre and then waltz out just because the caster was gone. The blaze had now grown very strong and it would take some effort to subdue it. More importantly, it would take time . Time that he didn't have, because even if the Dark fire didn't go after oxygen like regular fire, it didn't not consume it either.

Two more presences entered the ontological tug of war, ones that he was very familiar with. Luna and Fleur.

Harry frowned. Where was Dora?

Not time for that now. The three of them easily pooled their efforts in opposition to Voldemort. The Dark Lord was...surprised? Figures that he would once again fail to account for something so basic as competent outside help arriving. In any case, they were able to use their shared strength to crush his flagging one and the Fiendfyre consumed him in a way that could only be described as gleeful.

The raging specter that left his body was expected. It briefly distorted the flames into Voldemort's face as he passed through it, but achieved nothing more of note.

Now alone against the Dark-driven flame, the three of them worked to snuff it out. It resisted as it always did, but they remained implacable and slowly forced it down.

"And I thought the giants were going to be bad." Harry muttered when it was done, sensing more than seeing the vast, silent field of ash that used to be a bustling piece of London. The Fiendfyre had gone through it like it was made of straw.

"Harry! are you alright?" Fleur flew at him and asked in concern.

Harry blinked at her to bring the silver-haired veela into focus. Her shining hair was the only thing he could actually see. Barely.

"Fine. Where's Dora?"

"Fighting. Come on, we need to go help her."

He wasn't going to argue with that and they swiftly flew in the direction that their blood-bound bracelets were telling them that their missing lover was. All three of them had had their nightvision thoroughly ruined by the blaze and were flying almost blind.

"I see Dora has discovered the joys of beating people to death." Harry noted humorously, seeing his lover ping-ponging between the Death Eaters. Well, 'seeing' might not be quite the right term. Although his currently lupine eyes were adapting quickly to the darker light conditions, he was still mostly relying on his Magesight to perceive what was going on.

That gave him an excellent view of Lestrange's dirty tactic. The blasting curse almost seemed to travel in slow motion. Confringo, high power, direct blocking inadvisable, deflect or avoid. His mind analysed unhelpfully.

"NO!" Both Fleur and Luna yelled in worry beside him, able to sense that Dora was injured through their blood-binding just as well as him.

Harry was calmer, able to see that while Dora's aura showed injury and distress, there was no indication of it being anywhere close to fatal. And she was still keeping hold of her staff, which wouldn't have happened if the injury was too grievous. The metamorphmagus was flying in his direction and he was more than happy to pull her along. A short-lived cushion of magic kep the impact from being painful and he quickly wrapped her up in his presence, for his own reassurance as much as hers.

He had insisted that all three of his girls train hard and often if they were going to be associated with him and especially if they were determined to go into combat with him. He had already experienced the price of complacency himself on the night that Luna's father was killed and didn't allow them to fall into the trap of thinking that there was such a thing as 'good enough'. This event was an unwelcome reminder of that lesson.

He turned Dora around and looked into her eyes, seeing the dazed look of a person that had gone into shock.

"Are you alright?" He demanded more than asked.

Dora waved her left hand at him, or the lack of it rather. Ah, traumatic limb loss. That would explain the shock.

"Get her home, we're done here." Harry ordered to Fleur and Luna.

The two of them nodded and took hold of her, swiftly vanishing in the swirl of a portkey.

Harry turned his attention to the Death Eaters hovering watchfully a small distance away. There were only five left of them, and with Voldemort having almost certainly moved his Horcruxes it meant that there was nothing stopping him from getting some instant revenge on the fool that had the gall to maim Dora. That she'd be getting the hand back either through her own power or by his craft was irrelevant.

He hovered towards them slowly, unthreateningly. Even from a distance he could see them almost trembling from the tension. It marked them as prey in his subconscious.

He stopped when he was in easy conversation distance and took them in again. They all looked like they desperately wanted to activate their portkeys, but some kind of terror or pride kept them frozen in the air. They were still obviously skittish though and likely to flee at the first sign of aggression. The strike would have to be swift and final.

Lestrange was the only one unmasked, and cold sweat was pouring down his face. His eyes were flitting everywhere, desperately avoiding his own bright yellow ones.

"Congratulations." He said conversationally, not needing his enhanced motion perception to notice how they all twitched at the sound. "Wounding one of my girls is no small feat, even if you had her outnumbered. Well done."

The honest compliment obviously threw them and there was a long silence as they figred out a way to respond. Harry was happy to give them all the time they needed. Death was creeping closer with every moment they wasted thinking instead of fleeing.

"What did you do to Bella and Rabastan, you bastard." Lestrange hollered once he'd recovered what few wits he had. It was obvious to Harry that he was trying to cover up his fear with anger.

"Oh, they're still alive." Harry replied casually. His spell was nearly done. "Come work for me and I'll let you see them."

There was another stunned silence before Lestrange started laughing hysterically. The crazed kind of hysterically more than the funny kind.

"You think we would betray our master like that?" He screeched. It was probably supposed to sound furious, but it came off as desperate.

"No, I just needed you to stay still for a while." Harry smiled unpleasantly. " Space-Time Implosion. "

Reality itself seemed to collapse inward and suddenly that spot of the sky didn't have enough room for five bodies to occupy. Flesh and bone was mashed together like discarded cars in one of those industrial crushers. Then the natural order of things reasserted itself and the spot of space-time snapped back to normal like a rubber band, sending pulverized chunks of Death Eater flying in all directions.

As a consequence of his research into creating the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, Harry had learned ways to manipulate the space-time continuum. Didn't work well if there was other active magic in the area and required your enemy to be kind enough to stay still for nearly half a minute. Not to mention that it was blindingly easy to sense happening if one had the ability to do so. Completely useless in combat, but satisfyingly messy.

Harry calmly dropped the shield that had kept any of the gore from landing on him and started flying towards the area where the Raven Host had gone.

From high up in the sky, the damage to London looked even worse. A great big patch of it was reduced to ash, another part had been smashed by giants and yet another was full of corpses torn apart by inferi. The helicopter he'd heard earlier was actually two helicopters, one belonging to the police and one that he thought was likely from some news outlet or another. He could almost feel their eyes on him as he flew by. Lovely.

If there was a worse way to expose magic to the world then Harry couldn't think of one. The shadow cast by this one event would darken the future for a hundred years or more.

It made him wonder if that had been Voldemort's aim all along, rather than just him being a spiteful lunatic and sore loser. Then again, those two things weren't mutually exclusive.

Amelia regretted not retiring, she truly did. How do you even begin fixing this mess?

The inferi had been relatively easy to take care of, but there had been many of them and the damage they'd done in the streets packed with people celebrating the New Year had been horrendous. The muggle police had showed up in force and there had been a few tense moments, but everyone had been able to instinctively agree that the walking dead needed to be handled before they started pointing guns and wands at each other.

Not that it ever got to that point, because the ICW's Obliviator squads had showed up about halfway through the battle and started wiping memories from every muggle in sight without even bothering to get a feel for the situation. Amelia would have upbraided any of her Aurors for doing something so bloody stupid.

As it turned out, the Obliviators got something worse. The muggle police, already angry and on edge, had seen wizards waving their wands at the frightened people huddling against cars and buildings and opened fire without hesitation. Those muggle firearm things might not have been the best weapon to use against inferi, but they were plenty deadly against living people. The surprised Obliviators never stood a chance.

That could have very easily spiralled out of control, if not for the fortuitous presence of Dumbledore, who had been helping with the inferi instead of fighting Voldemort alongside Potter simply because he couldn't fly. The old wizard had been able to use both his authority as the Supreme Mugwump and his power to put a lid on the situation and refocus everyone on the walking dead.

They had now been disposed of, but the tensions were higher than ever. The muggle police had positioned themselves in front of the non-combatants and looked ready to turn their weapons on the wizards at any moment. The Obliviators were understandably angry at four of their own being killed and looked ready to do more than just wipe memories. Dumbledore was trying to calm everyone down and exerting quite a bit of his personal power to prevent violence and Potter's Raven Host was standing off to the side but looked more likely to side with the muggles than the ICW Obliviators if it came down to it.

Amelia herself was in the difficult position of talking to the muggle police officer that seemed to be in charge. He had introduced himself as a Captain Peter Dixon of the SAS, whatever that was. The man might be a muggle, but he was implacable in his demands for information, did not balk at the existence of magic for more than a second and didn't ask any useless questions. She'd dealt with muggle police before, most notably in recent years after Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban, but they'd never been quite so intense. Out of a desire to placate the man's justifiably foul temper and prevent any more fighting between them, Amelia was a lot more free with information than she would normally be, reasoning that he would probably be obliviated of the knowledge later anyway.

The tension continued to grow as the Aurors she'd sent out to hunt down any stray inferi flew in on brooms, more muggle police converged on the area and the argument between the leader of the ICW contingent and Dumbledore heated up.

Then it grew some more as muggles started peeking out of windows and doors, talking and pointing all sorts of devices down at them and in general doing things that had the Obliviators going purple as the Statute of Secrecy was almost visibly collapsing right in front of their eyes and they were prevented from doing anything about it. One of those loud muggle flying contraptions passed overhead and Amelia saw a large camera being pointed their way.

Despite her mixed feelings about Potter, she nearly slumped with relief when he flew in. If nothing else, he had at least drawn all the attention to himself and away from the ever more tenuous stalemate.

"Who's that?" Captain Dixon asked her, gripping his weapon tightly.

"An ally. Harry Potter. Young, but extremely powerful. Rules a small magical nation. The Raven Host are his people." Amelia replied quickly as Potter went to talk to the leader of said group. "We should go talk to him, he was the one fighting Riddle."

Dixon grunted in agreement and they made their way towards him. Dumbledore and the leader of the ICW contingent seemed to have the same idea. Amelia did her best not to grimace at how unpleasant this was likely to be. Every single person in the looming conversation was used to being in charge.

There was a tense moment once the four of them reached Potter, nobody seeming to be quite sure how to begin.

"Yes?" Harry prompted, seeming slightly bemused at how they'd all converged on him.

"Harry, what happened to Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked.

"Oh, he got angry that I was winning, cast Fiendfyre and ran away." Potter explained and exchanged a look with Dumbledore that Amelia just knew was conveying extra information that the two of them didn't feel like sharing. Bastards.

"What I want to know is why you picked London to have your fights in." Dixon ground out.

"Believe me, I'd have preferred a nice isolated patch of nothing just as much as you. Unfortunately, Voldemort is a lunatic that figured out I was unwilling to write random people off as collateral damage. Combine that with his general hatred for all things non-magical and here we are. This might not have happened if someone " Potter directed his glare at the ICW representative. "had taken my warnings about him seriously instead of waving them off."

"I don't decide on ICW policy or the policies of its constituents." The Obliviator said stiffly at the accusation. "I'm just here to make sure that the Statute of Secrecy is upheld."

"You can't just go around wiping people's memories!" Dixon snapped.

"And you can't just go around killing my men!"

"They were waving those sticks of theirs at civilians, what was I supposed to think?"

"They're wands, not sticks , muggle." The Obliviator sneered.

"Why you..." Dixon glowered, gripping his weapon again.

" Enough ." Potter's voice cut through the escalating confrontation like a guillotine. Useful that.

"That's better." He continued without obvious magical enhancement after everyone had turned their attention back to him. "First, the Statute of Secrecy. This breach is too big, you'll never be able to repair it. Suck it up and move on. Second, your men. They should have known better than to make any threatening moves in a dangerous, volatile and emotionally charged situation. Suck it up and move on."

"Harry, I don't think-" Dumbledore started cautiously, only to get interrupted.

"It doesn't matter what you think!" Potter snapped, obviously in a foul mood himself. "That's how it is and the sooner everyone accepts it the better off we're all going to be. You're the fucking Supreme Mugwump, so beat some fucking sense into the ICW before they do something extremely fucking stupid."

"You're suggesting we stop trying to cover up magic?" Amelia asked slowly, finding the notion difficult to accept. Keeping magic a secret from the muggles had always been one of the Ministry's primary concerns.

"I'm saying it would be pointless. There were hundreds of thousands of people here when the attack happened and I have no doubt that hundreds of thousands more are watching uploaded video footage of it as we speak. It's a new world now and we're just going to have to get used to it."

"We can't just ignore our highest laws like that!" The Obliviator snapped back. He was obviously still smarting from being told to 'suck it up and move on'. Amelia would be too if someone had told her that just after she lost several Aurors.

"I suppose nobody ever complained about a grave being dug too deep." Potter shrugged and turned away, obviously opting out of the situation now that he'd said his piece.

Amelia didn't like the implications of that statement. What did he know that she didn't?

Harry was glad to be back home. A nice long bath and a few subjective days in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber were exactly what he needed right now. But first, to check up on his injured girlfriend.

He found all three of his girls as well as both sets of surviving parents in the primary sitting room. They always did worry when their daughters went into battle and they had sort of adopted Luna as well.

"It's really not that bad, Mum." Dora was insiting, waving off Andromeda's fussing. "I'll have it back soon. The only reason I haven't tried to regrow it yet is because I know Harry'll want to watch."

So considerate!

"It's true, she grows extra appendages all the time. Regorwing one that she should have in the first place should be easy in comparison." Fleur said teasingly.

That was a good point.

"What kind of appendages?" Gabrielle asked and Harry was sure that she had a mischievous gleam in her eye.

"Mostly penises." Luna provided helpfully. "Although she also does horns, hooves or sometimes tentacles. Harry is especially fond of small tentacles in her vagina. She also did a tail once but fell on it and refuses to try again."

"Luna!" Dora groaned in despair.

"I did not need to know that." Ted sounded pained.

Harry decided that he had eavesdropped long enough and entered the room.

"Honeys, I'm home." He said sardonically.

"Harry!" Luna exclaimed and jumped to give him a hug.

Once the obligatory greetings were finished, Harry grabbed Dora's left hand to inspect the stump. It looked as if it had healed up years ago.

"Alright, go for it." He said, paying close attention.

"Right." Dora said and scrunched her face together in concentration.

"Fascinating." Harry murmured as the missing appendage slowly took shape.

"Huh, that was actually easier than I expected." Dora said when it was done, a bit nonplussed as she flexed her new hand.

"Well there wasn't any malicious magic residue in the wound, so there wasn't any reason for it to be hard. Any strange sensations? Phantom pains? Lag in responses?" Harry asked, poking and prodding at the fresh hand experimentally.

"No, I just feel kind of hungry."

"Hmm, must be from the lost mass. Usually you just shift things around."

"Makes sense." She nodded.

Teeny popped in without warning.

"Teeny made Mistress Nymmie a sandwich." The eager house elf said, holding out a rather huge sandwich towards the metamorphmagus.

Harry had to fight down a grin at the name that Fleur had taught them to use.

"Thanks, Teeny." Dora said and took it, making the house elf hop in delight before popping away.

"What happened out there?" Andromeda asked quietly.

So they launched into a retelling of recent events. Everyone was proper apalled at what Voldemort had done.

"I still need to get back at Lestrange for costing me my hand." Dora said sourly.

"Too late, I turned him into bloody chunks already." Harry replied cheerfully.

"Didn't you want him alive?" Fleur asked with a frown.

"No point anymore. Voldemort figured out we were going after his Horcruxes and implied quite clearly that he'd moved them, so Lestrange was probably useless. Although..." Harry pursed his lips as he realised he might have been a bit hasty in killing them all. They might have still known something after all. Eh, they'd probably just have portkeyed out if he hadn't killed them instantly, so it was a net gain. "Nah, nevermind. Killing them was for the best."

"Yeah..." Dora sighed, going melancholy with such abruptness that Harry blinked in surprise. Even her hair turned a listless brown.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked with concern.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me." She gave him a fake smile that fooled nobody.

He shared look with Fleur and Luna, and they silently decided to give her a few days before bugging her about it. Dora responded well to support, but she could be obstinate about accepting it at first.

"Um, what's a Horcrux?" Gabrielle asked.

"I was wondering about that myself." Apolline chimed in, followed by everyone else. Even Andromeda had never heard of them before despite being a Black, which made sense since that knowledge had by all accounts been restricted to the main branch of the family.

"Soul anchor. You do a ritual, then you commit a murder to finish it and rip off a piece off your soul, stick said soul fragment into an object and voilà, immortality at the cost your humanity." Harry revealed unconcernedly. There wasn't much point in keeping it secret anymore.

" WHAT?! "

Except for the yelling. Why did people have to be so loud?

January 1st. 2019.

Bjomolf turned off the TV and scratched at his short beard with a bemused expression on his face. He had just finished watching a news report on the New Year's debacle in London.

"Well, that went well."

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Zuzanna asked with a frown at her sire's sarcastic tone.

"No, this is better . I thought we would have to help things along to make sure the breach in the Statute of Secrecy was irreparable. This is marvelous, I haven't miscalculated so splendidly in over three hundred years."

"What about Harry Potter, sir?"

Bjomolf hesitated. It was true that much hinged now on the powerful young wizard's actions. If he would not work with them then he would have to be carefully worked around since direct confrontation would not become a viable option for several decades at the absolute minimum, and not become wise ever.

"Perhaps he will feel like talking now." He finally said. "We will wait a few days to see how he responds to this situation and then extend another invitation."

January 3rd, 2019.

There were newspapers spread all over the table, both magical and mundane, from all over the world, all talking about either the discovery of magic or the massive breach of the Statute of Secrecy.

The mundane media was full of statements from government officials, 'expert' opinions, outright speculation and most damningly, statements from wizards and witches and squibs in the employ of the mundane government that Harry had long suspected existed.

Of any violent backlashes against magic there was no word, but it was only a matter of time. The various social media sites were full of hysterical idiots with shit for brains and through the lens of his Palantír, he had sensed horror and rage blanketing London like a thick fog.

The magical newspapers, no doubt 'encouraged' to do so, were trying to convince people that everything would be back to normal soon. Their own telemirror-based media was the only one really reporting on the sheer enormity of the breach, although it wasn't being broadcast much outside of Spellhaven due to information control efforts by local magical governments.

Harry, Dora, Fleur and Luna were flipping through the articles and trying to discern the extent of the damage. The final death toll and cost in property damage hadn't been determined yet, but it was bad. In fact, it was by far the worst calamity to happen anywhere in the western world since the Second World War. If it wasn't going to cause him no end of trouble, he'd actually be quite amused by all the melodramatic wailing this had stirred up. Nothing like a mass slaughter of civilians perpetrated by some lunatic to highlight how wimpy people had become during the long peace.

Adrastia was there as well. Something like this was a big enough deal that having her input could be valuable, although so far she seemed more interested in sharing her amusement with the situation. It made Harry wonder if Luna's words about her wanting a friend had some merit.

Narcissa showed up halfway through the meeting, having been attending emergency ICW conference in Switzerland.

"They are still trying to think of ways to cover it all up, even when it's obviously hopeless." She said, obviously frustrated.

Harry was frustrated too. Despite what he'd said and despite Dumbledore's best efforts, the ICW had still decided to try obliviating the shit out of everyone and they had pressured Fudge into going along with that plan. Obviously, the effort had failed due to the sheer scope of the breach and now the mundanes were extra pissed. Any tenuous good will that might have been created by Amelia Bones' cooperation with the police had been wiped out, communication was shoddy and haphazard, people were demanding all sorts of unrealistic things on both sides and nobody seemed inclined to be the voice of reason. It was a proper shitshow.

"They are panicking." Adrastia said with a smirk. "The ICW never did make provisions for a situation like this. To them, the complete collapse of the Statute of Secrecy was always considered to be an end of the world scenario."

"So we can't expect them to stop being stupid anytime soon?" Harry asked, mostly rhetorically.

"You say that as if they were ever anything else." Adrastia chuckled.

"You think there'll be a war?" Dora asked quietly.

Harry frowned in thought before slowly shaking his head. "No. Not a conventional sort of war at any rate. I could see the mundanes trying to enact purges in places that are still ruled by knuckle-dragging mouth-breathers such as Africa, the Middle East and parts of Asia and South America, but not in the nominally civilized parts of the world. In those parts, they'd more than likely think of the advantages of absorbing the magical world into their own power structures. Subjugation through politics, economics and social influence. The United States is an especially likely culprit given their obsession with 'defense' and how magic could enhance it."

"That couldn't really happen, could it?" Narcissa asked, obviously disturbed. Even though she had long since abandoned her prejudices against non-magical people, she was still a proud witch and would never accept the idea of the magical answering to the mundane.

"It could easily happen. There are more than seven and a half billion of them and less than a hundred thousand of us. No matter how much personally more powerful each one of us is individually, and very few of us are in any truly meaningful fashion, as a society we are far weaker simply because of that. Our economy is tiny in comparison, our social influence insignificant. Just look at the changes that crept in from the trickle of new blood and new ideas that Magical Britain got from its mundane counterpart over the years. Now imagine what would happen without the veil of secrecy throttling interaction between the two cultures."

"Don't forget that, as a general rule, magicals are also less politically savvy than our mundane counterparts because our societal problems tend to be rather straightforward." Adrastia chimed in.

"They'll ruin everything." Narcissa whispered.

"Yes, they will." Harry agreed. "The Ministry's bureaucrats are bad enough, but at least they're magical. Even the North American magi aren't as controlling as the mundanes would be, especially after Voldemort made such a good case for them on the dangers of magic. They'd put so many restrictions, mandatory registrations and surveillance on the use of magic that it would likely fade out of existence within a century. Under no circumstances will I allow that to happen."

"You have a plan to prevent it?" The blonde witch asked knowingly, staring at him with a smile that conveyed her complete faith in him.

"Something like that. Spellhaven at the very least is in no immediate danger since we're not living among the general population."

Narcissa understood the implication that he wouldn't be sharing his plans with her just yet.

"That won't be good enough." Adrastia spoke up, examining her nails as if she didn't care one way or another. "If you want to do something, you should talk to a reporter."

"Why would I do that?" Harry frowned.

Adrastia gave him an 'are you stupid?' look. "The British Ministry of Magic and the ICW are sowing the seeds of an implacable hatred on the fertile ground that Riddle has prepared. If you don't step forward and nip this in the bud, they will bear fruit and somewhere down the line your only recourse will be to set it all ablaze."

Harry scowled mulishly. The words made sense, but he didn't want to be the one dealing with this.

"There is no one else." Adrastia continued, apparently guessing at his thoughts.

"Fine." He grunted after nearly half a minute of stubborn silence, wishing that the ICW and everyone else would just grow the fuck up , and turned to Narcissa. "Go talk to Penny. I want the two of you to find a British non-magical reporter in good standing and offer him or her an interview with me."

"Her." Adrastia spoke up again. "It should be a woman. Preferably in her thirties, unmarried or divorced, career focused, childless, still good looking enough to have hope of attracting a man and starting a family but too old to really succeed. Show her a little attention, flirt with her, mix her longing for male companionship together with her professional ambitions, string her along, fuck her a few times if you don't find her too repulsive. You could own her in a matter of months, less if you subtly guide her thoughts in the proper direction with Legilimency."

Harry frowned deeply as he considered the suggestion. Having a pet reporter to spin things his way would certainly be beneficial, but it would also mean that it wouldn't just be a one-time interview to put an end to this nonsense that the ICW was perpetrating.

He glanced at Dora, expecting her to object, but she avoided his gaze and stayed quiet.

"That would mean I'd have to make interviews a regular thing." He said, still surreptitiously watching his shapeshifting lover for a reaction.

"You will not be able to avoid the spotlight in any event." Adrasita replied dryly. "Now that the Statute of Secrecy is defunct and the weight of their mistakes looming over them, the ICW will begin losing relevance. As the most powerful sorcerer of this era and the ruler of a realm isolated from the rest of the world, Spellhaven will remain an oasis of stability in a turbulent political landscape. Combine those factors with the inevitable tensions between us and the non-magicals and it means that your influence will grow as the ICW's wanes. I would give it no more than two or three decades before your voice is the de facto voice of all wizardkind.

She paused for dramatic effect before continuing in a more mocking tone of voice. "Of course, you could play the hermit and turn your back on this opportunity, which will serve to disperse all that political power among many lesser wizards. Unlike you, they will most likely not have the strength or awareness to resist the subversive influence of the mundane world. I seem to recall you making some profound statement earlier about how you will not allow that to happen."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. He really wished that he could say that Adrastia was wrong, but he couldn't. Political power was like a bad smell that attached itself to other types of power, so her prediction was entirely plausible. Hadn't Dumbledore warned him about something like this happening way back when the biggest problem in his life was having Pettigrew's corpse stashed in a chest somewhere?

She was clearly suggesting that he use the looming chaos to seize as much political power for himself as possible and eventually unify the magical world into a single whole under his rule instead of having it be fragmented along the national borders of the mundane world. It would, admittedly, vastly strengthen the position of wizards and witches in this new world, but it sounded like an awful hassle.

Still, it wasn't all bad. While he wouldn't touch conventional politics with a ten foot pole if it could be avoided, he was less opposed to having absolute power. People could listen and do as he said and it would be fine, or they could fuck off and it would also be fine. It was the wishy-washy middle ground that he hated. And he could always delegate.

"Opinions?" He prompted, looking at everyone else.

"Do it." Narcissa said with an almost frightening fervor. "One day, your legend will eclipse even that of Merlin himself. If anyone has the power and the right to lead us into the future, it is you."

Times like this really brought home how he had messed with the woman's head. She was every bit as fanatical in her devotion to him as Bellatrix was to Voldemort, merely saner.

"I like blue." Luna smiled whimsically, which Harry interpreted as her having nothing to say on the subject at hand.

"It certainly has its advantages." Fleur said with a smile. She was the most politically ambitious of his girls, even if it was largely on behalf of her species.

Dora just shrugged. That was definitely weird. She'd always been more of a follower than a leader and should have at least looked uncomfortable about this plan.

Harry couldn't believe that he was seriously contemplating taking over the entire magical world. Oh the irony, the painful irony. There were still possible courses of action that Adrastia and Narcissa didn't know and wouldn't be told about that would potentially make that idea moot, but he was nonetheless seriously considering a long term campaign to spread his political influence, if only to protect the world of magic from the greedy fingers of the mundanes. Fuck it, it was better than doing nothing.

"Alright." Harry sighed, turning towards Narcissa. "Find a female reporter that fits the criteria Adrastia specified."

"I will see to it immediately." She nodded in understanding and excused herself.

"I will help." Adrastia stood with her, but turned to Harry with a look of smouldering invitation before leaving. "Come pay me a visit tonight if you want some pointers on how handle your interview."

Harry shook his head at her antics and looked at Dora.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked bluntly.

"What? Nothing." She replied unconvincingly. "I'm fine."

"Liar, you've been subdued ever since the battle." Fleur countered with clear disapproval.

"Even your hair has stayed mostly brown." Luna added.

A bleak look of regret passed over the metamorph's face. "We shouldn't have gone to save the Weasleys. If we'd just ignored the situation, Voldemort would know that we won't respond to hostage situations and probably wouldn't try it again."

"There's also his hatred for anything non-magical, his frustration at being constantly thwarted and his general craziness to consider, but yeah, we either shouldn't have gone at all or just fired through them and blamed it on Voldemort later." Harry nodded.

Dora looked pained, but didn't object.

"It isn't like you to suggest that abandoning people to torture and death would have been better than trying to save them." Fleur noted with a concerned frown.

"And what did trying to save them accomplish?" She responded bitterly. "They were dead the moment they got taken, I just didn't want to admit it. I wanted us to be the big damn heroes for a change and look where it got us."

Ah, now Harry understood. Dora always did have that idealistic streak in her. Occasionally annoying, but she was capable of putting it aside when it counted, unlike a certain bearded old wizard. The past few years had been hard on her as nothing ever turned out just right, either because there were no comfortable solutions or because even the supposed good guys were cunts. Looks like her idealism had finally crumbled under the weight of her disappointment.

Harry was almost sad to see it go. They'd have to do something to cheer her up so that she didn't wallow in the depression phase too long.

"So, yeah…..go ahead and emotionally manipulate a reporter into doing whatever you want." Dora continued in the same defeated tone. "I'm sure she'll be useful."

Definitely need to do something to cheer her up .

"You hinted at having some other plan in the works?" Fleur asked leadingly, unsubtly redirecting the conversation. Harry was more than happy to go along with it.

"You remember that experiment I'm running in Africa?"

"The one for increasing the chances of children being born magical?"

"The very same." He confirmed. "It was supposed to be a long term – make that extremely long term – project that would slowly and in relatively controlled circumstances turn the whole world magical. In the short term, it would have at least left us in a much better position once the Statute of Secrecy inevitably failed. Now I'm thinking that I could just say 'fuck it' to the slow approach and start dumping liquid magic into the water supply of major cities like London and New York. The sudden explosion of magical children being born would overwhelm the magical world's comparatively tiny infrastructure, but it would also blur out the lines between the magical and non-magical worlds and cripple any efforts to create an 'us versus them' mentality."

"The veela certainly wouldn't mind a sudden increase in viable mates." Fleur smiled.

"What's the catch?" Dora asked with trepidation.

"The animals?" Luna offered dreamily.

"Yes, the animals." Harry nodded in agreement, not surprised that Luna had picked up on that first. "For all the millions of people living in big cities, humans aren't the largest population in them. The rats alone outnumber them by far, not to mention every bird, cat, dog, spider, insect and who knows what else. A lot of them would get the magic too."

"What would happen?" Dora asked apprehensively.

"All sorts of things." Harry smirked. "The liquid magic is purified of all external influences and affects only the truth of things. Drinking it boosts a given life form's natural attributes if they are already magical or creates artificial squibs if they aren't, who then have a good chance of siring magical offspring if they reproduce before the magic fades out of them."

"So if I drank it….?" Fleur trailed off questioningly and he could hear a hint of longing in her tone.

"Unknown." He replied curtly. "It forces werewolves to transform, not completely but far further along than even Greyback managed without the Moon, and sends them into a feral rage. Regular wizards space out and seem to have trouble focusing, kind of like they were drugged out of their minds. The effects on a veela would likely be a significant boost to the power of the Allure, uncontrollable lust, a forced transformation, fogging of your higher reasoning ability and similar effects, but that's just my best educated guess."

Harry could see her visibly biting back the request that he find out for sure. Even after all this time, the desire to drink the raw magic hadn't completely abated. He knew that she harbored a secret, guilty hope that, some day, one of their mortal enemies would be a veela so that he would have one to run experiments on.

"What happens to rats?" Dora asked, getting the conversation back on track.

"Oh, they tend to give birth to offspring that grows to the size of dogs, with teeth that can chew through steel, bite strength that would put an alligator to shame, a digestive system that can process damn near anything and an appetite like you wouldn't believe."

"Ah." Dora winced, no doubt imagining a metropolis overrun by Rodents of Unusual Size. "How about we hold off on that plan for now, okay?"

"Until what?" Harry raised an eyebrow at her. He had been expecting that he would need to let the situation deteriorate until her concern for the lives of strangers diminished as the world slowly went to hell before she would agree to this measure.

Dora swallowed and avoided his gaze again. "Until we're sure that things are really not going to get better?"

"Sure." Harry nodded. Although he was terribly curious to see what would happen and personally thought that dusting off their survival instinct would be good for mankind as a whole, he had no problem waiting for a bit. He was too much of a pessimist to think that the situation would improve when it could deteriorate instead.

A little later.

"Harry!" Bryanna exclaimed happily as the wizard in question dropped by unexpectedly. "What are you doing here?"

"Can't I just visit for no reason?" He quipped with a small smile.

"Of course you can." Tiana purred, looking him over with blatant bedroom eyes. "But you never do anymore." She finished with a pout.

Bryanna was in full agreement with her friend and sometimes lover. The boy they'd originally gone out to seduce to further their ambitions had become a man that they have happily been either wives or mistresses to. Alas, he had looked elsewhere to fill those positions and his visits for a little hanky-panky on the side had dwindled to nearly nothing.

"Sorry about that." He shrugged, not particularly apologetically. "You know how it is. Work to do, things to learn, people to kill, disastrous collapses of the Statute of Secrecy to deal with."

Bryanna shared an amused glance with her friend.

"Anything we can do to help?" She asked suggestively.

"Maybe. How would you like to expand into the non-magical world?" He asked back, much to her surprise.

"What?" Tiana gasped in shock, once again echoing Bryanna's feelings.

"The Statute is broken beyond repair." Harry shrugged again. "I figure that we might as well get some benefits along with the problems. We can go talk to Penny about opening up some bank accounts and hiring an advertising agency if you're interested."

The two women shared another look, this time of dawning realization at the opportunity they'd just been presented with. The goal of their original plan to seduce Harry way back when they were all still in Hogwarts was to get enough funds and protection to set up a small niche business in Magical Britain that the purebloods couldn't ruin. Since then they had become quite a bit more than that, but as second generation witches they were well aware that the non-magical market was several orders of magnitude larger than the magical one. If they could be the first to break into that vast, suddenly viable market…

"Would you like to be shagged silly before or after we talk to Penny?" Bryanna asked, smiling so widely that her face hurt. They were going to be so rich. More importantly, they'd have a legitimate shot at having their fashion designs become world acclaimed, maybe even getting hired to make clothes for famous actors and actresses at red carpet events and stuff like that.

Harry grinned, the expression pulling at the scars on his face. "Let's say after. I've got all my toys back at the cháteau."

January 5th, 2019.

Harry stared out the window. This hotel room had a rather good vantage point for watching the construction crews and emergency services clearing away the damage caused by Voldemort's insanity, the visible damage at any rate. It was almost a shame, he thought that the ash, rubble and corpses made for a good metaphor.

He was dressed more formally than he would have liked at both Adrastia and Narcissa's insistence. The outfit could almost pass for mundane suit, if not for the fact that the suit jacket part was more robe-like. It was open at the front and he wore a dark emerald shirt under it. 'To bring out your eyes' the two women had claimed when he had expressed a preference for black. The shirt was also rather snug, which was to show off his physique. At least the pants and shoes were inoffensive.

Bryanna and Tiana had been very excited by the project and spent most of the previous day putting it together. While it was excellently made, its true value was in the subtle +3 charisma enchantment on it.

Alright, so it wasn't a +3 charisma enchantment, but it might as well be seeing as it functioned almost like a miniature version of the Crown of Glory. It wouldn't blare out his aura, but it would 'encourage' people to notice how well dressed he was.

A tentative-sounding knock interrupted his thoughts. That would be the reporter he was waiting for.

"Here we go." He muttered to himself and strode towards the door, not particularly looking forward to it.

Now that's a lot of people. He thought as he opened the door, eyebrow going up. Aside from the expected reporter and camera operator, there was also a small army of others whose reasons for being present eluded him.

"Ms. Byrne, I presume?" He questioned, plastering a small grin on his face.

Laura Byrne was the one that Penny, Narcissa and Adrastia had chosen in the end. Thirty-three, unmarried, single, childless, professionally ambitious but not hugely successful, lived alone, owned a cat. Spying on people was trivially easy for a skilled wizard in the age of information.

She had obviously put in a lot of effort to look her best for this interview, and was quite pretty with her dark hair, blue eyes and fine features, but even the expertly applied make up couldn't hide the first signs of age on her face. After not really interacting with any women other than witches for the past several years, whose youthful beauty persisted for much longer, it was a sharp reminder of the tension that the differences between the magical and non-magical would create even without idiots like Voldemort around.

The woman seemed a little taken aback by his facial scarring, and it showed in her hesitant reply. "Er, yes. Lord Potter?"

"That's me." Harry nodded.

Byrne rallied herself, gave him a dazzling smile and stepped forward with her hand extended. "A pleasure to meet you and let me just express how honored I am that you reached out to me instead of a more senior reporter."

That was laying it on pretty thick. She must really be eager to make a good impression.

The impending handshake brought to mind a bit of Adrastia's advice on how to handle this interview.

Do not shake her hand. It is an inherently male ritual that diminishes a woman's femininity for the length of the encounter and establishes a more neutral atmosphere. Kiss her hand instead to reinforce her femininity.

Harry was honestly a tad skeptical about that one, but he couldn't deny that Adrastia was an incredibly crafty social manipulator. There was a very good chance that he was simply not seeing as deep as she did, just as most wizards did not perceive the mysteries of magic as clearly as him.

So he brought the offered hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over the knuckles.

"A pleasure." He purred with a small grin, amused by both the slight widening of her eyes as she noticed his burn scars and the small blush that bloomed on her face. "Please come in."

Her smile widened a bit and the horde filed in. Harry didn't much care who they were, but politely went along with the introductions anyway. A producer, a camera operator, a sound guy, a makeup artist, a couple of assistants… He hadn't realized that giving an interview was going to be such a circus.

"Would any of you like something to drink?" He offered and then started summoning the requested drinks, ignoring the gasps and stares.

That was another bit of advice from Adrastia

Show off your power a bit. Be dangerous. There is little that women respect less than harmless men, and little they find more attractive than civilized monsters.

"I thought you needed a wand to use magic?" Byrne said questioningly.

"Most do, Ms. Byrne." Harry said noncommittally.

Brag without bragging.

"Please, call me Laura, Lord Potter." She said with a smile.

"Only if you call me Harry." He smiled back at her.

Flirting is a power play. Take the first opening she gives you – and she will give you one – then begin taking away her control. Start making your own overtures and gradually stop responding to hers. Do it skillfully enough and she will eventually internalize the idea that you are the one who says yes or no and respond accordingly. Not much different than training a dog, really.

Adrastia's little pointers could be so clinically brutal that it made a man wonder if he should really be doing this, but it always circled back to the fact that he was prepared to do much, much worse than turning an insignificant reporter into his personal mouthpiece with some creative seduction. It was a perilous juncture in history and his badly atrophied conscience wasn't anywhere near strong enough to put him off his course.

Byrne, Laura , didn't question the lack of wand further. Saving it for the interview proper, Harry assumed.

"So, Harry ," Oh, that was cute. She thought she was being bold. "I really am curious to know what made you choose me out of all the reporters you could have picked."

Harry very deliberately took a peek down her blouse, which was showing only a minor amount of cleavage, and grinned. "I liked the look of you."

Disregard any whining you may have heard about sexual objectification. Women only hate it when it's being done by men they consider unattractive, or if attractive men are doing it to women other than themselves.

Truly, Adrastia was a font of knowledge on the mysteries of the female. Although one had to take her personality into account when listening to her, or else one might be led to assume that all women were heartless narcissistic demons wrapped up in a pretty package. Just like her.

Heartless narcissistic demon or not though, she knew what she was talking about, because while the reporter's lips made a little 'O' of surprise at his boldness, she did not react at all negatively.

"Thank you." She said with an uncertain smile and another faint blush.

A brief Legilimency scan of her surface thoughts revealed that she wasn't merely putting up a front to avoid losing out on a big interview. While she did think that his behavior was bordering on inappropriate and that being chosen for her looks was perhaps slightly insulting, she was still flattered. She also thought that she might have provoked it with the emphasis she'd put on his name, which was just precious.

They went over the talking points of the interview after that, interspersed with some mild flirting, while her entourage got everything ready. There was a brief blunder on Harry's part where the makeup artist flirtilly offered to 'work her magic' on him and he sent her scurrying off with a flat stare. Fortunately it seemed to work out in his favor as Laura apparently took his silently hostile response as a weird sort of compliment for herself instead of seeing it for the slip in his mask of fabricated charm that it really was.

Harry experienced a final moment of doubt when the producer started counting down the seconds before they started things off, knowing that by doing this he was going to be kicking up a lot of fuss, but it passed quickly. There was already going to be a fuss, this was just a way to direct it.

"Hello. I'm Laura Byrne and we are here with Harry Potter, the lord and ruler of Spellhaven, which is a very recently established magical island nation sitting in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. He has contacted us with an offer of an interview after the recent shocking reveal of magic's existence. Harry, before we begin with the interview, could you demonstrate your magic for our viewers so that there is no doubt about you being a wizard?"

"Certainly. Would you like to assist me?" He smiled.

She blinked in surprise. They hadn't discussed how he would demonstrate. "How?"

"Do you have a pet?"

"Yes, I have a cat."

"Would you like to know what it's like to be one?"

"You want to turn me into a cat?" She asked incredulously.

"If you agree to it." Harry shrugged. "Transfiguring people without their consent is considered extremely rude."

"Not criminal?" Laura asked with a frown.

"Not usually, although it can be, depending on the context."

"Does it have any long term consequences?" She asked cautiously.

"You won't suddenly develop the urge to pounce or a habit of licking yourself if that's what you're worried about." He grinned. "An incompetent caster can indeed cause some serious damage with this sort of magic, but that's not a concern with me."

Laura took a deep breath, visibly screwing up her courage before nodding. "Alright, what do I need to do?"

"Just remove any electronic devices on your person and step closer."

"I've been meaning to ask about that later." She said as she unpinned the microphone from her blouse, but continued to hold it close enough that it picked up her words. "It was mentioned in one of the government's information packets that magic doesn't play well with electronics, but not why."

"The simple answer would be incompatibility." Harry shrugged again. "I'm sure you've often heard that electrical devices are basically just a complex series of ones and zeroes, or 'yes' and 'no' states in other words? Magic is a big maybe and tends to mess up that sensitive and carefully ordered system when they come into contact."

"I see. That makes sense. Alright, I'm ready." She said with a nod, put the microphone on the coffee table between them and went to stand in front of him.

Harry pointed his hand at her head and then began lowering it in a deliberate fashion, the reporter shrinking as he went until there was a small-ish black cat on the floor. He heard a gasp from the camera crew.

He picked her up, settled her on his lap. She was stiff as a board, so he started scratching the back of her neck to relax her.

"And now you're a cat. Meow twice if you understand what I'm saying."

The neo-cat meowed twice.

"Good." Harry said. "Human transfiguration is very difficult magic, because a thinking mind exerts an ontological pressure that resists the transformation. You should be feeling my power constraining you, forcing you into a form that is in conflict with your true self. Focus your will and push back against it to break my spell."

The cat gained most amusing expression of concentration before it suddenly yowled and rapidly expanded back into a human.

"Welcome back." Harry smirked at the woman on his lap.

Laura looked frazzled for a second more before realizing that she was sitting on a man's lap on live television and quickly scampered back to her own seat.

"That was….really weird!" She breathed after pinning her microphone back on. There was still a blush on her cheeks. "I could still think normally, but everything was so huge and scary."

"The change in perspective does take some getting used to." Harry nodded. It had been the same for him as a raven.

"But how was it possible for me to think normally? A cat's brain shouldn't be able to support human level thinking…..right?"

"Magic doesn't really follow conventional logic like that. If there are any physicists watching this I'm sure that they must be tearing their hair out trying to explain where all the extra mass goes." He pointed out, amused.

"That's a good point." She agreed. "And you were right, I could feel something pressing in all around me. Is that why, what did you call it….?"

"Transfiguring." He supplied.

"Transfiguring! Is that why transfiguring people is considered merely rude? Because it doesn't really take?"

"Oh no." Harry chuckled. "I deliberately made the bindings on your altered form weak enough for you to break. You would have reverted by yourself in a few minutes anyway, unless you actively wanted to stay a cat. If I wanted to I could have locked you into that form permanently, or until a sufficiently skilled wizard undid my work at least."

"That's kind of scary." She shivered.

"Powerful wizards are always scary, that's why I'm not living in Britain anymore." Harry nodded, giving her an opening to change the subject to one of those they had agreed upon beforehand.

"Could you elaborate on that?" Laura jumped on it immediately, leaning forward. "You were born in Britain, but instead of staying here or moving somewhere else if you wanted a change of venue, you decided to create your own little island nation. Why?"

"Like I said, powerful wizards are scary, especially for governments. It's not something many people like to think about, but society only functions as long as the government can back up their laws with violence if people refuse to comply. In the non-magical world that isn't an issue as it's practically impossible for an individual to gain enough power to really challenge the system.

"It's different in the magical world. Not only is it much, much smaller, but individuals can become tremendously powerful. The stronger I grew, the less reason I had to worry about the legal repercussions of my actions. It wasn't hard for me to see that I was on a collision course with the Ministry of Magic. Since I had no interest in overthrowing either Britain's or some other country's magical government, I made my own instead."

"Just like that?" Laura asked incredulously.

"Just like that." Harry grinned.

"Couldn't you have just respected the laws?" She asked.

"You mean force myself to respect them?" He asked archly. "No, I couldn't have. The Ministry outlaws many fields of magical study that it considers dangerous or 'dark' and I want to learn everything. And what if someone commits a crime against me or mine? You think I could have just stood back and let the legal authorities take care of it? Authorities that are weaker than me? No, I would have gone out to get my own justice."

"But how can a system function if it has vigilanties and powerful mavericks running around?" Laura challenged, although in a manner that was more curious than confrontational.

"It doesn't, not really." Harry shook his head. "Take the character of Superman as an example. He pretends to be part of the system, but he really isn't. No prison can hold him and no amount of conventional force can threaten him. If the comics were more realistic, he'd have taken over the world in short order whether he intended to or not. It's similar with extremely powerful wizards. Magical governments typically deal with this semi-rare phenomenon by heaping honors on them in the hopes of assimilating them into the system, but this usually culminates in them taking control of the system. If such wizards are politically ambitious, impatient and hold views fundamentally opposed to the system, they usually end up becoming Dark Lords and attempting to overthrow it by force. In short, powerful wizards simply cannot exist within a system that is weaker than us without either taking control of it or destroying it and establishing our own order. I sidestepped the problem by creating Spellhaven."

"How is Spellhaven governed then?"

"It most resembles the rule of a feudal lord or a monarchy. While I generally leave the people to their own devices, I do hold absolute power. There is no political agenda other than my own and I don't answer to anyone when I make decisions."

Not entirely true. If the girls objected strenuously enough then he wouldn't do something, but he usually didn't go for the kind of thing that they would object to anyway.

"So you're a king?" Laura sounded a little bit shocked.

"In all but name." Harry smirked. "I thought it would be a bit pretentious to call myself a king when the population of my 'kingdom' barely breaks a thousand people."

"So few?" She sounded surprised again.

"There aren't that many wizards and witches in the world to begin with. We've historically had fewer children than non-magicals because our standard of living has always been much higher until recently. Added to that we also tend to encounter more danger over the course of our lives than modern non-magicals, so our natality rates aren't much higher than our mortality ones."

"I see." She nodded thoughtfully and then her eyes lit up with another question. "So magic is hereditary then?"

"Not exactly. There is a much higher chance for a child to be born magical if the parents are also magical, but that has nothing to do with genetics. A powerful pulse of magic is released during orgasm. If a wizard is powerful enough then his sperm will still retain enough magic to make the conceived child magical as well. Since conception happens inside the mother, it means that a witch will be more likely to give birth to a magical child. If a non-magical couple were to conceive in a high magic environment their child would also stand a good chance of being magical."

Harry briefly wondered how many loonies were going to start having sex at Stonehenge because of this, but shook it off and finished his explanation. "Conversely, a non-magical couple conceiving in their entirely non-magical bedroom have to rely on some freak cosmic event to provide the initial 'seed' magic. The chances of that happening are one in tens of millions."

"So the first wizards and witches were, what, cavemen that got lucky?" She asked humorously.

"It probably goes back much further than that. Magic tends to manifest in ways that enhances natural abilities, so as soon as mankind's ancestors developed higher reasoning they would have had some capacity for shaping magic. Dragons, for example, are most likely magical dinosaurs."

"Dragons are real?!" Laura almost squealed.

"Yes." Harry smirked at her reaction. "They've been held in dragon reserves for centuries to keep them from breaking the Statute of Secrecy. Incidentally, this ties in to what I said about wizards generally having more dangerous lifestyles. Working on a dragon reserve is considered mildly suicidal."

"I can't believe dragons are real." She muttered, still stuck on that point.

"Many of the mythical creatures you've heard of in stories are real; dragons, unicorns, phoenixes, pegasi…." Harry continued smirking. "There are also a number that you've never heard of and some that have gone extinct."

"That's amazing. I wish we could see them." She said wistfully.

"Maybe we can do a follow-up interview on Spellhaven and I could show you a few. I have a quetzalcoatl, a winged serpent, for a friend, a bunch of sphinxes as guardians, a dryad in my forest and a some others."

"I will gladly take you up on that." Laura couldn't agree fast enough.

"Alright then, it's a date." Harry grinned at her roguishly.

She coughed to cover her embarrassment and then changed the subject. "This has been an interesting line of digression, but we should probably get to the question that is no doubt foremost on the minds of our viewers."

"Ask away."

"Five days ago, London was struck by a devastating magical attack that claimed tens of thousands of lives and left a significant part of the city destroyed, and everyone is asking why ?"

"The short answer would be because the wizard that did it, Tom Marvolo Riddle, the self-proclaimed Dark Lord Voldemort, is insane. And by insane I mean that he is a frothing-at-the-mouth sadistic psychopath that would set the world on fire if he could rule the ashes afterwards."

"Dark Lord? Really?" Laura asked oddly, as if she wasn't sure if he was serious.

"The title of Dark Lord has traditionally been reserved for exceptionally powerful wizards that attempt to seize political power through violent means." Harry explained. "I'm sure it sounds silly to you, but that's how it is."

"Ah, could you give us the long answer then?"

"Riddle's story actually begins with his mother, Merope Gaunt…" Harry launched into a long-winded explanation about why Voldemort was the crazy that he was, his previous attempt at seizing power, how the mysterious disappearances of a few decades ago were his doing, the prophecy(which led to a semi-lengthy digression on the topic), his blunder at Godric's Hollow, his return to power and the past several years of fighting him.

"…I've been trying to keep him too focused on me to think about attacking anyone else and I've had some success in that, but not nearly as much as I'd have liked. What I'm most annoyed and disappointed by is the lukewarm help I've been getting from the ICW and Europe's other magical governments."

"ICW?"

"International Confederation of Wizards. Think of it as an analogue to the United Nations, although it's primary purpose is, or was, to maintain the Statute of Secrecy."

"And they haven't been helping you fight this monster?"

"I think they were using the opportunity to get rid of some troublesome elements in their own backyards first before they'd deign to really help. By letting Riddle recruit their bad apples and send them into the grinder against me they could neatly take care of a few minor problems and then come out smelling like roses when they finally started searching for him in earnest." Harry snorted derisively. "I warned them that he was a disaster waiting to happen, but they were too busy being politicians to listen."

"Do you think it could happen again?" Laura asked fretfully.

"Yes, it could." Harry nodded grimly. "Magic simply allows him too much mobility to realistically stop him if he decides to pull another stunt like that, although he won't have as many resources available to do it with."

"But didn't you say that Spellhaven is warded against unauthorized teleportation? Couldn't the same thing be done for the British Isles?"

"Theoretically, it could be done. Practically….not so much."

"Because the area is too big?" Laura asked.

"That would certainly make it more difficult, but no. The real problem is ownership."

"Ownership?" She repeated without comprehension.

"Yes. To ward a location, you need to either own it or have the permission and cooperation of the one who does. I own Spellhaven and the wards are anchored to that concept of ownership. My old school is owned by the headmaster and the wards are anchored to him. The Ministry of Magic building is technically owned by the Minister of Magic and the wards are anchored to him. The people under these wards know that we own these places, so the ownership is not contested and the wards are strong. If I went to your home, placed a ward over it and tried anchoring it to myself, it would be weak and decay further over time until it eventually collapsed, because your thoughts would eat away at it."

"I'm not sure I follow." She admitted.

"Another demonstration then?" Harry offered after a few seconds of thought.

"Please."

"Do you have a pen?"

"Err…." One of the crew quickly handed her a pen as well as a paper pad before she could say no. "Thank you."

"Alright, you have a pen. Doodle something."

"Okay…." She said dubiously and did as she'd been asked.

"The pen works, yes?"

"Yes…."

"Good." He said and summoned it out of her hands, ignoring the surprised yelp this elicited.

Harry passed his fingers over the pen with a low mutter before passing it back.

"Doodle something else."

Laura gave him a baffled look, but doodled all the same. Or tried to at least.

"What the…? It doesn't work."

"Really?" Harry feigned surprise. "Let me try."

"Works fine for me." He said mockingly, showing her the doodle. "Give it another try."

"Nothing." She said and looked at him curiously. "What did you do?"

"In short, I claimed mastery of the pen and forbade it from working for anyone else."

"You forbade the pen from working for anyone except you?" She repeated slowly, as if uncertain that she'd heard right.

"Yes. You have to understand that the pen was made with a purpose that defines it. That purpose is to write. By holding it, you owned it, and by taking it I also took ownership of it. Once I owned it, I magically imprinted my mastery over it. If the pen had been made by your own hand then you would have had to gift it to me in order to make that possible, but since it was mass produced your initial claim was very weak and I could take it by force. Once I had mastery over it, I could command it to withhold its purpose from you. That is a very minor form of warding."

"So to ward my home without my permission….?"

"Homes are different. Your claim on it would be much stronger even if you didn't help make it. I couldn't just take it from you by showing up while you weren't there. I would have had either murder you or subjugate you to claim mastery over it. Only then could I ward it properly without your permission and cooperation."

Laura's eyes widened in surprise, but she composed herself quickly.

"So to ward all of the British Isles….."

"I would have to be king, either through the support of the people or through a tyrannical campaign to crush any significant opposition. It wouldn't be required for absolutely everyone to either support me or fear me enough to anchor the ward, but it would require a large majority."

"But what if you worked with the queen to set up a ward?"

"What queen?" Harry asked mockingly.

"Queen Elizabeth…"

Harry scoffed. "Oh please, 'Queen' Elizabeth has more in common with a prize poodle at a dog show than a true monarch. For the wards to hold over a whole country, you cannot have a democracy or anything similar to it. If everyone thinks that they collectively own the land then not only is there no locus of sufficient strength to anchor it to, but there would also be countless disruptive elements weakening the magic."

"Oh, I see." Laura's voice betrayed her disappointment.

"If it makes you feel any better, I suspect that the ICW and Europe's various magical governments will be more cooperative now, so maybe I'll be able to keep Riddle too busy to contemplate staging another pointless massacre."

"Speaking of the ICW and the magical governments, why aren't they talking to us? You are the first solid contact we've had with the magical world since it was revealed."

"That would be because they never saw this coming." Harry explained with a snort. "They thought that they could maintain the Statute of Secrecy indefinitely, so now both they and the Ministry of Magic are flipping out and panicking."

"But you did expect the Statute of Secrecy to break?"

"I can't say that I was exactly prepared for it to happen so quickly or the way it did, but I haven't been caught with my pants down either."

"So when can we expect some kind of official contact from the Ministry of Magic and the ICW?"

"Soon. Word will probably have reached them of this interview by now. The more technologically savvy might even be watching it. I have no doubt that they are panicking again and working themselves into a proper bureaucratic rage because I went over their heads like this. They'll whine at me about it, but they'll probably give up on the daydream of shoving the cat back into the bag and open proper diplomatic channels."

"That's good." Laura nodded happily. "Well I think that covers most of what I wanted to ask in this interview. Would you mind a few more miscellaneous questions before we wrap this up?"

"Not at all."

"Alright, my first question is about the Statute of Secrecy. Why was it implemented in the first place?"

"I thought that would be obvious." Harry shrugged. "We weren't getting along. Too much fear and envy and too little sense. Witch hunts on your side – although most of the people persecuted had no magic in them whatsoever – abuses of power on our side…we were all better off keeping to ourselves. The Statute of Secrecy wasn't a perfect solution by any means. We still died in your wars and you still died in ours, but it was better than the constantly simmering tension whenever we lived together openly."

"But you could do so much good with your powers…." She started.

"Not as much as you might think." Harry denied, clamping down on his desire to start lecturing her on the subjective nature of 'good'. "There's very few of us to begin with and most aren't qualified to be brewing healing potions and that kind of thing anyway. Most are boring office clerks or shopkeepers or various other people just going about their lives. They aren't any more qualified to be helping people than you are to perform surgery."

"Oh." She blinked, nonplussed. "Alright, I guess I can understand that. Let's move on to my next question then.

Harry hummed in agreement.

"What determines a wizard's power and are there any innate power differences between genders?

Harry mulled it over for a while before deciding on an explanation that would make sense to her. "The first thing you need to know is that magic is a yes or no proposition. There are no innate inborn advantages or disadvantages of magical power, although some will insist this is the case to make themselves feel better about their weakness. There are magical talents that one can be born with, but magical power is a direct reflection of one's own will and knowledge. Exceptional people make for exceptional wizards."

"Could you elaborate on that?"

"Think of a wizard's power as a pool of water. A broad scope of knowledge will give the pool a large surface area, a great depth of knowledge will make the pool deep and a strong willpower will increase the water's quality."

"That makes sense." She admitted and then her manner became more hesitant. "Alright, last question. How does magic relate to religion?"

"Ah, I thought you might go there." Harry nodded. That was a talking point that she had been very skittish about suggesting, clearly afraid of making him angry. He honestly wished that he didn't have to deal with that mess, but it was unavoidable and he wasn't going to tiptoe around it. "I've prepared another demonstration that should clarify things."

Laura perked up, obviously eager to see what he'd do this time.

Harry gestured to the pitcher of water that he'd placed on the table for that exact purpose.

"Water." He declared and poured it into a glass. Then he stirred it around with his finger until it turned a dark red. "Wine."

"You just turned water into wine." Laura said numbly. Looks like she hadn't connected the dots before this.

"Yes, a rather simple transfiguration." Harry said with a slight mocking edge, not bothering to hide his amusement. "I can also multiply fish or walk on water. Hell, I can even fly so I'm actually way ahead. To spell it out, Jesus was a wizard and so were the other two so-called 'prophets'. They got a bunch of gullible idiots to follow them around and a religion sprouted from it. I hear that it was actually a fairly common occurrence back in those days, it just didn't go anywhere most of the time."

"But…."

Harry was on a roll now and would not be interrupted. "In fact, all my research on the topic suggests that the majority of gods were once wizards whose power got vastly exaggerated over time."

"But…."

"That's not to say that the existence of higher order beings is impossible. The chances of them paying us any more mind than we do to space dust on the other end of the galaxy if they do exist is rather low though."

"But….if religion is a lie, then where does magic come from?" Ah, she seemed to have been expecting a god explanation. Personally religious? It would be fun to break her of that if so.

"I don't know for sure." Harry shrugged. "My best hypothesis is that it's a remnant from the time before the creation of the universe, a window to a state of existence before space, time and physics had even settled down. It would neatly explain why it overrides the rules of conventional reality, but I have no way of proving that I'm right."

"Ah, I suppose things like Hell and Heaven aren't real then either?"

"Nope."

"Angels and demons?"

"Stories based on magical beings. The same magical being for both, amusingly enough. The succubi were a race of extremely beautiful, all female, winged demi-humans with a strong affinity for fire. They preyed on wizards and sometimes witches, seducing them and draining their magic and life force through sex to sustain their immortality. The last of them was killed centuries ago."

"But where did the succubi come from?"

"Ancient Sumeria." Harry answered blandly, amused by her fumbling attempts to stump him. "The sorceress Lilith, through unknown means, transformed herself from a regular human into the first succubus. She feasted on the lives and magics of the Mesopotamian wizards for a thousand years and spawned a legion of succubi daughters before meeting her end at the hands of Gilgamesh."

"Wow, I was not expecting that." Laura shook her head in amazement.

"You've only just started down the rabbit hole." Harry smirked.

"Well as much as I would like to keep going, I think we'll have to end this interview here, but I'm looking forward to the next one and to visiting Spellhaven."

"So am I." Harry grinned slightly, wondering how she would react to his girls. He'd deliberately avoided mentioning them.

Vernon had barely stopped ranting and raving about freaks and unnaturalness for days . Even though Petunia agreed with him, she wished he would stop. It couldn't be good for his blood pressure.

Life had been blessedly normal for the past fourteen years, ever since they'd sent him away. Doubts sometimes crept into her thoughts about what they had done with her sister's son, but she always reassured herself that it had been for the best. Dudley shouldn't have to grow up next to a freak the way she'd had to.

Then this happened. The freaks finally showed their true colors. Thank goodness that Dudley had decided not to go to London for the New Year's celebrations.

But the hits didn't end there. The news soon announced that they would be holding an interview with a real wizard, one Harry Potter.

Petunia didn't appreciate being reminded of her nephew even more. Neither did Vernon and the rants increased in intensity.

Despite their distaste, they all settled to watch the interview when it came on.

Petunia's first sight of her nephew in fourteen years hit her harder than expected. The scarring on his face was a shock, but the blazing green eyes that she'd always been so jealous of her sister for having were unmistakable. His fit, powerful body also made something curdle in her gut. She had expected her darling Diddums with his boxing to be bigger, better built and more handsome than her freak nephew, but he wasn't, even with the scarring.

The jealousy came roaring back like an old friend.

The actual interview didn't improve her disposition any. Harry spoke eloquently, intelligently and confidently, often using words that she would never admit to not knowing the meaning of. He was powerful and obviously rich if his expensive-looking clothes were any indication. Their abandonment had seemingly done nothing to hinder him.

Vernon had a vein throbbing in his forehead the whole time and Dudley was mostly just confused. He barely remembered Harry.

When the interview reached the part about Harry having to be King of Britain in order to set up some kind of magic over the country, Vernon couldn't contain his rage anymore and exploded into another rant.

His overstressed heart had enough and went on strike.

"VERNON!" Petunia shrieked as her husband fell to the ground, clutching at his chest.

Unlike the Dursleys, Katherine and Robert Shaw were thrilled when they learned that the boy they had taken in so long ago would be giving an interview on recent events. It was surely going to be watched all around the world.

What had happened in London was horrible business to be sure, but you had to look to the future. That was why they had invited all their friends and acquaintances over to their home so that they could watch the interview together.

It was wonderful. Although they despaired at seeing the boy's mutilated face and burned arm, they preened at his eloquent speech and gladly took credit for it. Hearing that he was essentially a king of his own magical island nation was even better and impressed all of their friends. Katherine happily discussed what he was wearing with the other women while Robert criticized the politics of this ICW and the Ministry of Magic that Harry mentioned alongside the men.

They winced at his entirely undiplomatic words about religion, each silently castigating him for not avoiding such a loaded topic. They pretended not to hear the offended grumbling from those of their guests that were religious.

When the interview was over, one of their more influential guests turned to them with a hope in her eyes. "This is extraordinary. Do you think you could ask your old foster son to have us as guests on his island for a few days so that we can experience what life is like for his kind?"

Robert and Katherine froze and broke into a cold sweat. They remembered quite vividly how Harry had warned them to not bother him with anything frivolous and they suspected that this would be considered frivolous.

Zoe had been in London when the attack happened. She had seen the giants smashing buildings with their great clubs and had briefly been chased by those freaky zombie things. She had seen the snake-shaped fire devouring the city.

She had survived with nothing worse than a few scrapes and bruises, but it had changed her. Although not usually one for community service, she volunteered to help fix up the city and search for trapped survivors.

And while she was doing that, she wondered if that cute fuckbuddy she'd had for one summer and whose cherry she'd popped was a wizard. Harry had been vague enough with his answers that he easily could have been. He'd said that there was no technology at his boarding school and he'd sometimes make jokes about being magical.

The announcement of the interview confirmed her suspicions. When it came on, she and her best friend Kelly were sitting together in front of a TV with eager anticipation.

"Whoa, he's hot ." Kelly breathed when she got her first look at Harry.

Zoe agreed completely. Harry had definitely grown up well and those scars on his face were kind of sexy too.

"You didn't tell me he was a lord." Kelly said accusingly when the reporter went through her introduction.

"I didn't know." Zoe protested. "It makes sense though. He was rich and went to a boarding school."

They watched his demonstration of magic with awe and listened to it with bafflement. Then they conversation got to the part about Harry's social status.

"Holy crap, Zoe! You shagged a king!" Kelly sounded very impressed.

"He wasn't a king back then." Zoe pointed out reasonably, although she kind of wanted to preen.

"I wish I could see dragons and unicorns and all the other magical creatures." Kelly said longingly once the interview was finished. Then she turned to Zoe with a gleam in her eyes. "Hey, you still have his number, right? You could call or text him and ask to visit!"

"What? No!" Zoe protested. "All we did was fuck a few times like, six years ago! What am I supposed to say, 'hey, Harry, can I come over to your island with a friend? I'll polish your knob just like the old days if you say yes.'? I'm sure that'll go over well with whatever girlfriend or maybe even wife he probably has."

"Come oooon, pleeeease?" Kelly whined. "Didn't you see him flirting with the reporter? He totally wouldn't be doing that if he wasn't single."

That was a good point, Zoe had to admit. Harry had definitely been flirting with the reporter. That he could confidently flirt with an older woman like that also showed that he'd seriously upped his game since the last time she'd seen him and it made her curious. Maybe they could do a revision, Harry had been strangely obsessed with mastering cunnilingus and if he'd kept practicing all this time….

No! This was a bad idea. She'd look like the worst kind of whore if she came on to him now that he was a big deal.

"Come on, Zoeeee!" Kelly continued to wheedle. "Just ask him if we can come. Tell him I made you do it if you're embarrassed. I'll even shag him in your place if that's what he wants."

"What about your boyfriend?" Zoe asked incredulously. "Remember him? Brown hair, blue eyes, answers to Jason?"

"He can't show me unicorns." Kelly replied petulantly.

"No wonder you can't keep a steady boyfriend." Zoe muttered and rolled her eyes. Not that she had any right to be throwing stones on that topic.

Bjomolf turned off the TV.

"Interesting move, Harry. Interesting indeed." He mused. "And rather out of character."

In fact, this wasn't a play that should have occurred to anyone in Harry Potter's circle of people. It was too bold, too politically ambitious. Putting himself forward like that, openly challenging the ICW….that was very much not Harry Potter's modus operandi. He should have stayed on the sidelines and been like a boulder; immovable. This was the move of a predator who had smelled blood.

Or perhaps that of a Black Widow sensing vibrations in her web. Adrastia had been noted on Spellhaven rather often recently and some of her recent activities were a little unusual…..

"Did he manage to buy you, Adrastia?" Bjomolf wondered to himself.

Whenever he thought of those two, he was reminded of the tale of the scorpion and the frog. Adrastia was the scorpion, but she would only sting once she was safe and Harry wasn't fool enough ferry her across the river. Had he found a way to tie her fortunes irrevocably to his own, extending the metaphorical river indefinitely?

"Barely begun and things are already failing to go as planned." The ancient vampire snorted in amusement. "Typical."

So this chapter ended up being way longer and covering way less time than I intended. You'd think I'd have learned how to properly estimate these things by now, but nope, I haven't.