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Chapter Text

“Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?” Dumbledore asked calmly.

“No.” He answered clearly, forcing himself to be calm even as the pressure mounted. A pack of hounds surrounded him in that room, and he had to fend them off even as a metaphorical firestorm raged within the confines of his mind.

Once again his year had been ruined, another spectacle taking place that robbed him of having a peaceful fourth year at Hogwarts. He had felt numb when Dumbledore pulled his name out of the Goblet of Fire, making him the fourth Champion, and that numbness had soon worn off to lead to something else entirely.

He wasn’t exactly sure how he felt now, his mind raging with far too many emotions to pin down a singular one to describe them all. But Harry could definitely say he felt rage, angry at the disruption to his school year, angry at the lack of action from the adults around him, and angry at Voldemort and his Death Eaters for making his life hell. Yet despite this, Harry Potter was most angry… with himself.

Year after year of magical schooling and he always fell into the same trap, cluelessly running straight into his enemy’s arms and barely managing to escape at the very last moment. It always ended the same way, with him taking a massive blow while Voldemort failed in his plans yet still managed to escape. If anything, he was lucky to even survive up to this point, and Harry could really only thank Dumbledore for intervening in some obscure way every time.

In his first year it had been the Philosopher’s Stone, with him along with Ron and Hermione running around without a clue as to what they were doing. The three of them pursued Snape all year like headless chickens when Quirrel was scheming right under their nose. Worst of all, they never had to intervene in the first place as Voldemort never would have gotten past the Mirror of Erised no matter what he did.

Second year had been little different, other than the part where his reputation took a tremendous blow from the parseltongue revelation. And that wasn’t to mention Voldemort’s diary sitting right under his nose the entire time, making Harry feel like an idiot when he finally figured that part out. Nor did he feel any better about Hermione being petrified, as well as their fruitless scheme to interrogate Malfoy while under polyjuice.

And finally came his third year, and the time when Harry truly began to see things for how they truly were. Up until his third year, he had been looking through rose-tinted glasses during his stay in the magical world, and those very glasses had been ripped away in the most painful way possible.

His godfather, the man who was supposed to raise him, had spent over a decade in Azkaban after being wrongly convicted. In fact, Sirius had never been convicted in the first place, and yet he had to spend years living alongside dementors along with Voldemort’s murderous followers in prison.

If that revelation wasn’t enough to cause a change in Harry, then it was the reveal of Pettigrew’s betrayal, coinciding with the Minister’s refusal to do anything. Fudge had refused to hear a word of Sirius Black’s innocence, all while Dumbledore stood silently by the wayside.

It made him realize that Voldemort was somewhat right when he spoke to Harry in his first year, about there being power and those too weak to seek it. Harry had no power, he kept falling for Voldemort’s schemes, and he wasn’t nearly influential nor skilled enough to prove Sirius’ innocence to the Wizarding World at large.

And now he was in exactly the same situation as before, trapped in one of Voldemort’s grand schemes where he had to participate in some school tournament. The worst part of it all was the hit his reputation would take. Harry had seen his classmates initial reaction to his name coming out the Goblet, and just knew things were going to be even worse than his second year.

Ron, Seamus, Dean, along with all the older students in Gryffindor, as well as the other Houses, all wanted to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. And for him of all people to have been chosen as a champion, while also being a fourth year? Harry could only guess this year was about to get a whole lot worse.

Snape snorted, breaking him out of his thoughts as he sent Harry a condescending look. “You can hardly trust Potter’s words, Headmaster. The boy is a known attention-seeker and rule breaker.”

“Oui, ze boy is clearly lying!” The Beauxbatons Headmistress agreed.

“Surely Mr. Potter couldn’t have got past Dumbledore’s age line.” McGonagall argued somewhat in his favor.

“It’s certainly possible.” Dumbledore shrugged, not bothering to protect him in the slightest.

“Headmaster!” McGonagall gasped.

“See! He admits it!” Karkaroff called out, pointing his finger at Dumbledore. The Drumstrang Headmaster then turned to the tournament officials. “Mr. Bagman, Mr. Crouch, surely you can’t allow this boy to compete?!”

“I’m afraid we have to.” Crouch answered gravely. “The rules are simple, whoever’s name comes out of the Goblet of Fire has to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. Otherwise they risk loosing their magic.”

Harry mentally sighed, already knowing that all the arguing was pointless. It didn’t change the outcome of it all, being that he would be forced to compete in the tournament regardless of whether he wanted to or not.

Nonetheless, the room’s occupants continued yelling over one another. At least, that was until Professor Moody burst into the room and began arguing with the Drumstrang Headmaster.

“All the champions have to compete, as they’re all bound by magical contract through the Goblet.” Moody explained how the Goblet of Fire worked, before his voice dropped. “Convenient, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Karkaroff narrowed his eyes.

“Want me to spell it out for you? Simply put, Potter is now forced to participate in this tournament else he will loose his magic. Funny enough, I don’t hear Potter complaining about it.”

“And why should he complain?” Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons Champion, butted in. “Ze boy will gain wealth and eternal glory should he win. Many of us have been waiting weeks to have a chance at such a thing!”

Harry was hardly an egotistical person, and had developed a thick skin from years of insults thrown at him from the Dursleys. And yet, to have such a beautiful woman like Fleur Delacour throwing insults his way… it hurt more than he would admit.

“You seem to be conveniently forgetting that people die in this tournament, Frenchie.” Moody spoke in a dark tone. “Maybe whoever put Potter in that Goblet hopes he dies too.”

“Bah! You’re seeing things, Mad-eye.” Karkaroff dismissed.

“Seeing things?” Professor Moody whirled on him, suddenly furious. “I seem to remember seeing that Dark Mark of your arm-”

“Alastor!” Dumbledore interrupted him loudly, making the room go silent as everyone turned to face the aging Headmaster. Dumbledore ignored them however, instead turning to face Harry of all people. “I’m afraid that you’ll have to participate in the tournament, Harry.”

He wanted to yell and scream at Dumbledore in that moment, to rage against what he knew was coming. Yet at the same time he wanted to lay down in defeat and accept his fate, knowing that once again he would have to escape whatever schemes Voldemort had by the skin of his teeth.

So he picked an option in between all of those, all while knowing his words would make no difference. “I refuse.”

Several things happened then, as most of the room’s occupants stiffened at his declaration. The Drumstrang contingent, along with Snape, were openly gaping in shock at his words. Madame Maxime just looked strangely confused, while Fleur Delacour was looking at him as if seeing him for the first time.

Harry ignored them however, instead looking directly at Dumbledore who seemed to have suddenly aged ten years in that moment. “I’m afraid you have to, Harry. It isn’t as simple as the Goblet stripping you of your magic should you refuse, but rather that it will actively force you against your will to participate in each task. Should you actively oppose such an ancient object’s will… the consequences will be severe.”

The Headmaster sounded deadly serious in that moment, more so than Harry had ever seen before, as the room became so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. All the while his head pounded with frustration, and he opened his mouth as if to retort—only to eventually sag and nod his head in resignation.

Dumbledore eyed him for a moment longer, and then spun to face the judges. “Mr. Bagman, I believe there are some rules to go over?”

“Oh… of course!” The former Quidditch star perked up, and began explaining the tournament in detail. Harry barely listened, instead trying to keep a cool head and recover from the excitement of the past hour. “…and of course, since you are all Champions, all of your exams have been cancelled. You are also not required to attend your classes, and can instead use the time to train for the tournament.”

That’s useful, at least. He knew that he would be skipping potions along with History of Magic quite a lot in the near future.

The group of them were dismissed then, and Harry walked out of the antechamber and through the empty Great Hall before turning to head towards the Gryffindor Common Room. He was nearing the grand stair when a voice got his attention then.

“Potter! Potter, wait up!” A male voice called from behind him, and he turned to see Cedric Diggory heading his way. “Did you truly not put your name in the Goblet?”

“I didn’t.” He answered gravely. “Honestly, I don’t know how my name came out of it. I didn’t even want to participate in the tournament.”

“I thought so.” Cedric replied with an awkward laugh. “Honestly, I thought you and Dumbledore were about to throw down in there. It became so tense that I could barely breathe, I don’t think any student has stood up to Dumbledore like that before.”

Harry’s didn’t know what to say at that, seeing as him and the Headmaster only had a tiny argument. And yet the older Hufflepuff made it sound like he watched Harry stand up to Merlin himself. “I’ll see you later then.”

He watched Cedric headed down a nearby stair towards the Hufflepuff Common Room, and that was when Harry realized something. He couldn’t go back to Gryffindor Tower, not when his emotions were such a wreck while his mind was a whirlwind of frustration.

And it wasn’t just his desire to sort out his emotions that led him to such a conclusion, but also the reaction of his classmates to him being selected as the fourth Champion. He knew a lot of them were angry, and could only guess what would happen if he went back to Gryffindor Tower now.

He needed to be alone, somewhere where no one could find him, and that was when he thought of just the perfect place. The Chamber of Secrets.

His legs seemed to move on their own, carrying him up the grand stair to the second floor and then down several hallways to the unused second floor girl’s bathroom. It was quiet and dark inside, as the moonlight drifted through the windows and shined down upon the sink which acted as the Chamber’s secret entrance.

“Open.”

He spoke in parseltongue, the language of serpents feeling almost natural for him to voice. Like magic, the sinks slid open to reveal the hole leading down into the Chamber, and Harry didn’t hesitate before jumping down the dark tunnel.

He soon made his way through the caves beneath the school, the same ones himself, Ron, and Lockhart had traversed only years previously. The cave-in was still there, and with a violent slash of his wand he channeled some of his frustration to send the rocks scattering. Harry was much more powerful than he was in his second year, and it took little effort to remove the boulders blocking his path.

From there it wasn’t long until he arrived at the Chamber’s official entrance, and another mutter of parseltongue had the door opening before he entered.

He saw that Chamber of Secrets was much the same as before. The Basilisk’s corpse was still there, along with Slytherin’s statue as well as the hundreds of snake effigies made of stone. But there was something that wasn’t there last time which quickly got his attention.

A small, floating golden light sat in the middle of the Chamber, reminiscent of a candle. It drew him in, feeling warm and comforting as he got closer, almost akin to a campfire. When Harry was only a few feet away, he kneeled down before it and held out his palms.

“…Tarnished …Guided by Grace …return to the Lands Between …seek the Elden Ring”

He could barely make out the words that the light was softly whispering, but he could feel a strange pull coming from within him. It was as if his very soul was being touched by the golden light, and Harry felt himself lean in closer before his instincts suddenly screamed at him.

But it was too late, and suddenly his arms were sucked in by the golden light before the rest of his body followed.

“Arise Tarnished.” A rich, feminine voice whispered in his ear. “Come to the Lands Between and reforge the Elden Ring… and become my Elden Lord.”

Harry’s eyes snapped open, as he inhaled sharply while feeling warm air against his skin. He was laying on grass, staring up into a sky filled with strange golden tendrils. He immediately knew he was no longer in the Chamber of Secrets, nor was he in Scotland for that matter, as the air was much warmer here than at Hogwarts.

His body moved to sit up slowly, as he looked around to survey his surroundings. Grass fields, cliffs, and woods intermixed with old stone ruins stretched across the strange landscape. But that wasn’t what immediately got his attention, as instead his eyes settled on the massive golden tree in the distance.

The tree was huge, bigger than anything he could have possibly imagined. Its trunk was thicker than an entire city, as its branches spread countless miles in all directions to cover whatever continent he was on. It glowed in place of the sun, and despite the real sun going down, the glowing tree provided enough light to see without assistance.

“Just where am I?” He voiced aloud, feeling as if he was going insane. One moment he had been in the Chamber of Secrets, and the next he had woken up in this strange place. The only thing he truly remembered was that strange floating golden light.

Still in shock, he forced himself to get up then. His limbs were sore and ached as he moved, taking a couple of steps as Harry continued to study his surroundings. That was when he noticed someone standing nearby, being a masked man dressed in an odd gray and white outfit.

“Hello?” Harry asked cautiously, feeling as if he was a first year discovering the magical world all over again.

He walked closer to the stranger, and noted that he wore a scary white mask that was more suited for Halloween than anything else. Harry also couldn’t help but hesitantly note the man was covered in blood, stained onto his old robes.

“Hmm. Tarnished, are we? Come to the Lands Between for the Elden Ring, hmm? Of course you have. No shame in it.” The white-masked man seemed to speak more to himself than to Harry, doing so in a condescending way.

He swallowed down his hesitation. “Can you help me? I don’t know how I got here.”

“No one does at first. The Lands Between has a way of bringing aimless souls to its shores, and those very souls are the ones in need of guidance.” The masked man seemed to look down on him then, as if finding an incredible flaw. “Unfortunately for you, however, you are maidenless.”

He felt his eye twitch in irritation, understanding the insult for what it was.

For some reason the image of Fleur Delacour appeared in his mind’s eye then, the gorgeous Beauxbatons Champion who was the embodiment of every male fantasy. The unbidden thought made him that much more irritated, his teenage hormones not helping the slightest.

“Go along now, Tarnished.” The masked man waved him away dismissively, uncaring for his growing ire. “Forgotten and alone, and without the guidance of Grace… it seems you are fated to die in obscurity.”

Harry walked off while muttering a slew of insults under his breath, stomping through the grass and down the hill. He had met nicer people in Knockturn alley of all places, and didn’t want to spend another moment around the masked man if he could help it.

Great job, Harry. He silently told himself, yet at the same time he went over what he knew so far. According to the masked man, he was in some place called the Lands Between, and seeking something called the Elden Ring. There was also the part about others being called to the Lands Between, meaning he wasn’t the first to arrive in these strange lands.

He soon made his way down the nearby hill and into the valley that stretched out in front of him. In the distance he could see the remnants of a old stone church, along with a dirt path that ran alongside it. And it was there he spotted what appeared to be a giant mounted golden knight.

The knight itself was massive, close to Hagrid in size, and adorned with gold armor as it rode atop a gargantuan steed. In one hand it carried a large halberd, and in the other it gripped a huge shield.

For a moment, Harry hesitated to approach such an intimidating figure, before he swallowed down his hesitation and headed over. He crossed the grassy valley to where the knight patrolled, walking up behind it before speaking up. “Excuse me, sir, could you help me?”

In an instant, golden knight whirled around, its horse spinning to face him before it began barreling down on him. It brandished its massive halberd in one hand, reeling the weapon back as if to bring it forward and strike him down.

Harry’s reflexes kicked in without him even thinking, years of playing quidditch giving his body the skills to actively dodge the attack even while his mind was stuck wondering what was happening. He threw himself to the ground, the halberd’s axe missing him by a mere hair.

The knight passed by him with its attack, and Harry knew it would soon turn around to commit to another attack. With that in mind, he stood and drew his wand, pointing it at the knight during the brief reprieve. “Expelliarmus!”

The massive halberd left the knight’s grasp, soaring through the air to land embedded in the earth. If the knight was surprised, it didn’t show it, instead positioning itself so its massive shield faced Harry’s direction.

His next couple of spells might as well have been useless then, bouncing off or simply dissolving into the large shield. That was when Harry smartened up and pointed his wand below the shield, aiming for the steed instead of the knight. “Impedimenta.”

The horse gave a panicked cry before tipping over, sending the golden rider sprawling onto the ground without its shield. It was wide open and unprotected then, and Harry decided to try out a spell he had only read about yet never actually used. “Reducto!”

His spell struck struck the knight, and instead of exploding, the tree sentinel instead began to dissolve and turn to smoke.

Just what is going on? Harry couldn’t help but think, feeling as if he had just ran a marathon. Yet at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel stronger and more invigorated than ever before.

Something caught his eye as he panted for breath, and he turned to see the knight’s halberd embedded in the ground. The weapon itself didn’t dissolve like its user did, instead remaining after the Tree Sentinel had passed on.

Out of curiosity, Harry reached down to try and pick it up. The weapon was bigger than him, and he imagined that even Hagrid would struggle to lift it. And yet his hand wrapped around it with ease, and he was able to pick it up and hold it as if it weighed the same as a beater’s bat.

Must be some sort of magic. Was the only reasonable explanation he could come to, as Harry would normally never be able to wield such a huge weapon. Just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, he slammed the halberd down onto a nearby tree, and the blow was able to snap its trunk in half.

For a long moment he simply stared at the sight, before shutting his eyes and forcing his mind to move on. He knew he needed to keep moving forward, and to not get bogged down by everything strange that was happening to him.

He looked around, taking note his surroundings once again, and decided to head towards the old ruined stone building nearby that resembled a church. Clutching the large gold halberd in one hand, and his wand in the other, Harry carefully made his way to the ruined building and entered from where the front door used to be.

Inside sat overgrown columns that rested on a earth floor, with one of those strange golden candle things like there was in the Chamber of Secrets sitting in the middle of the church. But that wasn’t what immediately got Harry’s attention, as on the far side of the ruined church sat a strange man next to a campfire.

“Ahh.” The man noticed him quickly, speaking in a raspy tone as Harry approached. “You are a Tarnished, I can see it. And I can also see... That you're not after my throat. Then why not purchase a little something?”

Harry paused awkwardly, feeling as if his day was getting stranger by the minute. First he had met that nasty masked man who taunted him for not having a maiden, then he fought a giant golden knight, and now he was talking to a merchant dressed like Santa. “Who are you?”

“I am Kale, a humble merchant and purveyor of fine goods. And you’re the one who felled the Tree Sentinel, aren’t you?”

He blinked. “That golden rider thing? Yeah, how did you know?”

“You’re carrying its weapon, boy.” Kale chuckled as heat crept up Harry’s face in embarrassment. “That monster has crushed a hundred foolhardy tarnished who crossed its path, and it was you who finally shattered it.”

The merchant reached into his pack and tossed Harry a dirty pouch, and he opened it to find it filled with bottled potions along with strange golden coins.

“Consider it a gift.” The merchant said. “That tree sentinel was bad for business, and many more tarnished are bound to pass through these parts now that it’s gone.”

“…Thanks.” Harry said quietly, feeling grateful to have finally met someone who wasn’t trying to screw him over. He didn’t want to get too sidetracked however, as he still wanted to figure out what was going on. “I’m still trying to figure out what I’m doing here. I don’t even know what a ‘Tarnished’ is.”

Kale gave a hum that sounded more introspective than anything else. “I’m not the one to explain such things. If you want answers, seek answers from the grace site.”

The merchant gestured to the strange floating golden light sitting in the center of the ruined church, and Harry hesitantly walked towards the warmth that was the grace site. He kneeled next to it, silently praying that it wouldn’t pull him in again like it did in the Chamber of Secrets.

After a few moments, nothing happened, and he was about to let out a sigh of relief when suddenly blue lights began to coalesce next to him. The lights morphed to form a cloaked feminine form, and Harry could only watch in awe as an unknown woman appeared beside him.

“Greetings, oh Lord of Destined Death. I offer you an accord...” The woman spoke as she gently pushed down her hood, revealing a kind face framed by curly brown hair. Interestingly, she only had one eye, being gold in color, with her other eye covered by strange black markings. “I am Melina, and I have come to serve you, Tanished.”

“Woah.” Harry stared at the woman who mysteriously appeared, before he remembered to introduce himself. “Err… I’m Harry Potter. Wait, why did you call me Tarnished? And what’s this destined death business?”

“A Tarnished refers to one bereft of grace connected to the Erdtree.” Melina gestured to the sprawling glowing tree above them. “They are those who are brought to the Lands Between, led on by the guidance of grace to one day become Elden Lord and rule the Lands Between. You are one of many Tarnished led to these lands by the guidance of grace.”

This makes the Triwizard Tournament look like a joke. He was frozen in place as he tried to digest the woman’s words, his voice sounding strained as he spoke again. “And the part about death?”

Melina‘s expression changed, her eye looking over him then as if he was a particularly juicy piece of meat. “You seem to possess the rune of death, one of the many great runes which form the Elden Ring. It is the rune needed to bring balance to this world, and it will be my role as your Maiden to help guide you.”

“M-My Maiden?” His face flushed crimson as all sorts of inappropriate thoughts filled his mind then. The woman in front of him didn’t appear that much older compared to himself, her appearance similar to that of Hermione’s other than her singular golden eye. That said, there was something he found appealing in a confident, competent, yet kind woman like Melina appeared to be.

“I will help you channel your runes and navigate the Lands Between.” Melina explained calmly, seemingly not noticing his embarrassment. “In exchange, I ask that you bring me to the base of the Erdtree. Agree to this, and I will be yours.”

Think about those things later, Potter. He pushed away the images his teenage brain was conjuring-which certainly wasn’t helped by Melina’s wording—and instead focused on the situation at hand. “And you can help me return to my old world?”

Melina nodded, and gestured at the grace site in front of them. “Concentrate on the site of grace, and you will be able to feel the way back to your home.”

He followed her command, raising a hand and concentrating on the floating golden light. In his mind’s eye, the grace site in front of him appeared, sitting alone on an empty map that had yet to be explored. He pushed out further, and distantly he could sense another grace site, and when he focused on it the Chamber of Secrets appeared.

“I can see it!” Harry felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he opened his eyes to see he was sitting on the cold stone floor of Slytherin’s Chamber. He looked around, seeing nothing had changed from when he left mere hours ago.

He then focused on the grace site once again, and he was able to quickly find the sole grace site in the Lands Between that he was just at. A mental push later, and Harry felt himself arrive back at the ruined church, and once again he was staring into Melina’s golden eye.

“It worked, I assume?” She asked, to which he nodded absentmindedly. “And what of my offer, Harry, will you take me to the base of the Erdtree?”

“Could I ask you some things first?” He questioned, to which Melina agreed. “What exactly… happened to this place?”

“The Lands Between has long been divided by war, caused by the shattering of the Elden Ring. Queen Marika, the ruler of the Lands Between, has since disappeared, leaving her demigod children to fight over what remains.”

“So when you said I had the rune of Death, you meant I carried a piece of this Elden Ring?” He verified, the pieces snapping into place. “What of the other pieces?”

“Each of the demigods carry a Great Rune, and you will have to defeat them if you wish to claim their pieces for yourself and reforge the Elden Ring.” Melina gave him the worst possible answer, as she gestured to an utterly massive castle in the distance. “The closest demigod is Godrick the Grafted, Ruler of Stormveil Castle, and distant descendant of Queen Marika.”

Harry felt a massive headache starting to form at Melina’s words. Based on what he briefly glimpsed so far in the Lands Between, he knew it would be extremely difficult to have to travel the entire continent in search of every Great Rune. Melina might be able to guide him, but that meant he would still have to fight every enemy he came across, as well as the so-called ‘demigods’ that she spoke of.

But Harry also knew he could hold off on pursuing each Great Rune, and instead explore what the Lands Between had to offer first. So instead of rushing straight to Stormveil Castle, he instead recalled what Melina requested of him. “So why do you need to go to the foot of the Erdtree?”

“~arnished.”

A curvy feminine form pressed against him as he awoke next to the site of Grace. His eyes opened slowly, taking in a face-full view of beautiful brown hair as he inhaled Melina’s sweet scent. She smelled akin to his Quidditch supplies, reminiscent of leather and ancient wood, and it helped him relax as he laid with her.

His arms wrapped around her comfortably, pulling her against him. A cute, satisfied smile graced her lips, all while her shapely bum pressed against his crotch.

Harry bit back a grown then, feeling his cock beginning to stir. At the end of the day, he was still a warm-blooded male, and it seemed his limbo wasn’t dissuaded by the excitement of the past day.

Get your mind out of the gutter, Harry. It just so happened that Melina fell asleep next to him at the grace site, and that during the night they coincidentally happened to move closer to one another and end up cuddling. It was entirely unintentional, and Harry knew he had to careful else he risk doing something foolish.

He moved away from her slowly, being careful not to wake his Maiden. The brunette girl needed sleep, especially when she would have to deal with the likes of him. He had promised to take her to the base of the Erdtree, after all.

He soon stood up, still wearing his Hogwarts robes as he surveyed the ruined church. He immediately noted that Melina and Merchant Kale were sleeping, but it wasn’t the two of them that got his attention, but rather the blue woman sitting on a nearby piece of rubble.

“This way, Tarnished.” The woman called out, waving him over. “May I have a word?”

Cautiously, he moved across the ruined church to approach her, all while he studied the newcomer. In a way, she was beautiful yet delicate, dressed up like a doll with an overly large dress as well as a hat that put McGonagall’s own witch hat to shame. But it wasn’t those parts of her appearance that got his attention, but instead the strange ghost-like face next to her that mirrored her own facial features. That, as well as the woman’s four arms.

“Thou art more fortunate than most, I see.” She spoke again as he drew near, looking at him with a gleam in her eye.

Harry blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

“Resting beneath the stars, with thy maiden nestled so closely.” She continued, a small smirk playing on her lips as she looked over at Melina. “Perchance I have come at a… delicate hour.”

“N-Nothing like that!” He got out quickly, yet couldn’t stop the embarrassed stammer as he spoke. It seemed that Harry wasn’t the only one to notice Melina’s strange cuddling.

“Peace, young Tarnished. I mean thee no harm, nor do I seek to chide thee.” The woman chuckled politely. “I am known as Renna… though ‘tis not my true name. A witch of the cold moon, and watcher of curious fates... such as yours.”

He blinked. “You’ve been watching me?”

“I’d heard tell of a Tarnish that defeated the Tree Sentinel. And after looking into the matter, the talk, I surmise, is of thee?” At his nod, she continued. “Thy are not born of this world, are thee?”

“No. I’m from a place called—”

“Thy tongue calls it Earth. Thy people, wizards.” She stared intently at him. “But thee are no ordinary mage, Harry Potter.”

He stiffened. “How do you know my name?”

“The stars did tremble at thy arrival.” She answered without telling him anything, before turning to look at Melina’s sleeping form. “Though I must confess, thou dost make fast work of maidens. She hath not lain so close to any since the age began to wane.”

Harry blushed, his collar feeling tight. “It’s not like that.”

“Mm.” She hummed. “Dost thy tongue lie… or thy heart falter? A question for another time, perhaps. For now, I shalt leave thee with this.”

The blue witch held out her hand, and Harry hesitantly reached out to take a golden whistle. He looked it over curiously, before looking back at the blue-skinned woman.

“A whistle to call forth thy spectral steed, Torrent.” The witch, Renna, answered. “But before I take my leave, I wonder… does thou truly seek to be Queen Marika’s third consort, and be Elden Lord?”

“I-I…” He felt blindsided by the question, yet remembered what Melina had told him earlier of Marika’s disappearance after the Shattering. “Isn’t Queen Marika missing?”

“Art thou a perceptive one.” The witch eyed him shrewdly. “How long will it be, I wonder... before the Tarnished tire of obesiance to the Two Fingers?”

Harry’s brows furrowed, wondering what the woman was talking about now. “I don't understand.”

She smirked as if enjoying an inside joke, right as her body began dissolving into blue light reminiscent of Melina’s arrival earlier.

A/N:

I was going to sit on this story a bit longer, but decided to go ahead and publish it anyways.

I hope it’s received well, as I’m still outlining some of the plot for this story.

Pairings planned so far: Harry x Melina, Malenia, Millicent, Marika, Ranni , Daphne, Fleur, Susan, Apolline, Amelia, Narcissa

You can read upcoming chapters early, view beautiful character artwork, and cast your vote in story polls. Check out the details:

Links: Linktree

Chapter Text

The clacking of hooves could be heard as they made their way through Limgrave, with Torrent carrying both him and Melina. Ever since they set off from the Church of Elleh, Harry had to have his head on a swivel to make sure that they didn’t accidentally run into any traps or enemies.

Dodging Godrick’s men, wolves, and all sorts of other dangerous creatures that would happily tear Harry apart was now seemingly his full time occupation. Sadly, it seemed that most of the beings in the Lands Between were like the deadly Tree Sentinel he had faced upon arrival, with those like Melina and Merchant Kale being the exception.

And according to Melina, Limgrave was one of the most peaceful territories in the Lands Between. And it certainly didn’t improve his mood to know that Caelid, their destination, was supposedly the most deadly part of the continent. From bad, to worse, I guess…

As Melina had explained to him, in order to get to the Erdtree’s base, the two of them would have to travel to Leyndell, the Royal Capital of the Lands Between. But in order to get there, they would first have to get some sort of special medallion in Caelid, which would activate the Grand Lift of Dectus, a massive elevator that would then bring them to the Altus Plateau, where Leyndell was located.

The whole explanation Melina gave him just gave Harry a massive headache, and that was without mentioning how they would have to travel through three separate regions of the Lands Between in order to even reach the lift. Caelid was bad enough to think about, and the terrors lurking in Liurnia’s swamps sounded even worse.

“You’ve still yet to explain how you came across this spectral steed, Harry?” Melina suddenly asked about Torrent, startling him.

“Oh, well, um…” In the chaos to actually begin their adventure to Caelid, Harry had completely forgotten to mention the strange witch, Renna. In fact, just thinking about the woman made him all flustered, especially as he recalled her taunts about him and Melina being close. “You see, I met this woman… er, Witch, actually, named Renna.”

“Renna, you say?” Melina scrutinized him. “Are you sure that was her name?”

“…No.” He replied after a moment of thought, thinking back to the strange interaction with the witch. “If it’s any help, she had blue skin, four arms, and wore this fluffy white dress-”

“Ranni.” Melina deduced immediately. “Her name is Ranni the Lunar Princess, the daughter of Queen Rennala of the Carian Royal family.”

“I’m surprised you figured out her identity that quickly.”

“I’m your Maiden, Harry, it’s my job to know such things.” Melina smiled kindly, making his heart do a small flip. “That said, I advise caution when dealing with the Lunar Princess from now on.”

“May I ask why? She seemed nice enough, if a bit teasing.”

“I think bratty would be the appropriate word.” Melina scowled. “Ranni hails from a complicated family, and has always been the ambitious sort.”

Harry snorted in amusement, mentally imagining the blue witch’s reaction if he called her a spoiled brat right to her face. Now that he thought about it, the blue witch seemed the type to pout when she didn’t get what she wanted.

Torrent continued moving as they talked, crested a hill and continuing down a path leading out of Limgrave. It was then that Harry heard something, a cry for help coming from nearby.

“Hello?! Can someone help me! Help! I’m stuck!”

Torrent changed course under him, as they changed direction to get closer to the cries for help. That was when Harry came upon one of the strangest sights he had ever seen, being a massive talking pot with legs and arms that were stuck in the ground.

“What in the world…” He muttered to himself.

“Oh my stars, I’m so happy to finally see someone!” The giant pot seemed to notice him. “As you can see, I’m stuck, and could use some help getting out of this!”

For a moment, Harry just stood still as he tried to come to terms with what he was seeing. That was until Melina shifted and spoke in his ear. “He’s a living jar. They are not uncommon in the Lands Between.”

“Of course.” A slight grin formed on his lips as he pointed his wand at the living jar. “Wingardium Leviosa.”

His magic latched onto the jar’s body and lifted him upwards, pulling him from the ground and floating him a couple feet up into the air. The living jar spun around in the air and waved his arms around in joy before Harry put him down feet first.

“Ha ha ha ha! I haven’t had that much fun in years! My thanks! A thousand thanks!” The jar gave the equivalent of a bow as it faced him. “I am the warrior jar known as Alexander. Iron Fist Alexander, in fact. I journey to the east, where I intend to further my education in the ways of war in the scarlet rot-blighted Caelid Wilds.”

“Huh, we’re going there too.” Harry remarked.

“Oh? You’re traveling to Caelid as well? I, Iron Fist Alexander, am headed to Redmane Castle for the great festival!” Alexander’s voice turned oddly serious then. “Radahn awaits.”

Melina seemed to shiver at his side. “The Great General Radahn.”

Harry frowned, feeling the minuscule hairs on his neck rise at the strange name. “Who is Radahn?”

“He’s one of the demigods, being Queen Marika’s adopted son from her second marriage.” He filed Melina’s words away as she spoke. “Because of this, he is one of the holders of a Great Rune, and was a mighty general during the Shattering.”

Alexander nodded. “Indeed, Radahn was a mighty warrior. Loved battle, loved honor. He studied gravity magic just so he could ride his beloved horse even after he grew too large for it. A towering figure, both in stature and spirit.”

“So why fight him?” Harry asked in confusion. “He can’t be as bad as Godrick, can he?”

“Because Radahn is no longer himself.” Alexander spoke as if telling a great secret. “At the end of the Shattering, he fought Malenia the Severed, and ended up defeated and infected with scarlet rot.”

“H-He lost?” Harry didn’t know why, but his heart seemed to thump loudly as the tale went on.

“He did.” Melina seemed to be sharing her own opinion then. “Malenia is also one of Queen Marika’s children, also known as the Blade of Miquella, for the defense of her twin brother. Since birth, she has been infected by Scarlet Rot, and during her battle with Radahn she used it to curse him.”

“Radahn is stricken by madness.” Alexander stated. “His mind is lost, but his body’s strength remains. He wanders Caelid to this day, carrying his Great Rune as he fights those who try and claim it.”

“And Malenia? What happened to her?”

“No one really knows.” Melina answered. “At the height of the war she led a great host, and marched all the way down from the mountaintops to Caelid where she fought Radahn. After that she simply disappeared.”

The tale came to an end then, with Harry having a poor taste in his mouth, all while silently hoping he would never have to fight Radahn or Malenia.

Alexander didn’t seem to sense the heavy mood, instead continuing on. “Oh! I forgot to ask, are you a sorcerer?”

“Err… I’m a wizard.”

“Well, if you’re of the magical persuasion, you might find interest in a certain sorceress. Sellen is her name, and she hides among the ruins not far from here. Bit of an outcast, if rumors hold true, but I hear she’s quite talented.”

Harry glanced at Melina, and she nodded faintly. “I know the name. She once walked the halls of the Academy of Raya Lucaria, before her exile.”

“Thanks.” Harry turned back to Alexander. “I’ll look into it.”

“Splendid! Then I shall not delay you further.” Alexander gave a proud nod, then turned to waddle down the path. “May fortune favor your path, brave wizard! And do try not to get stuck in any holes!”

They found Sellen in stone ruins that sat alongside one of the main roads which ran through Limgrave. It was only thanks to Alexander’s help, along with Melina’s guidance, that Harry wasn’t left alone and wandering aimlessly in search for the errant sorceress.

Inside the ruins were giant killer plants that Harry was sure would pique Hagrid’s interest, but luckily he didn’t have to fight them as Melina led him to a stairway which led to a cellar below the ruins. According to her, it wasn’t uncommon for residents of the Lands Between to hide beneath ruins like the ones they were searching.

And exactly as Melina had stated, right below the rocky ruins was the woman they were looking for. She wore blue robes that Harry could see a normal witch wearing in his old world, with a strange stone mask that was certainly not normal.

She didn’t attack him upon his entrance, instead holding her hand to her chin to convey interest. “Tarnished, are we? A wonder you should turn up here. I am Sellen, a sorceress, and I would like to know why you are here?”

“I heard there was another magic user around, and decided to investigate.” He answered, before remembering to introduce himself. “I’m Harry Potter, a wizard.”

“Ah, a wizard but not a sorcerer? I can’t say I’ve heard of your kind.” Her accent was posh and sexy, similar to some of the hot pureblood Slytherin girls back at Hogwarts. “Do you wish to learn glintstone sorceries from me? You certainly seem to have the aptitude with those foreign academy robes you wear.”

Harry looked down, and couldn’t help but realize he was still wearing his Gryffindor robes. They were filthy after several days of travel and combat, yet he was still unsure if he wanted to get rid of them entirely in favor of armor. “Hogwarts is the school I attend, and these are my class robes…”

“Hogwarts is your institution of learning then?” She asked curiously. “I, for one, was exiled from the Academy of Raya Lucaria, as a reviled, apostate witch. Do you still wish to learn from me while knowing this information?”

He swallowed thickly, silently hoping the sorceress in front of him wouldn’t be teaching him dark magic. He wanted to learn what he could to help in navigating the Lands Between, but that didn’t mean he wanted to stoop to the level of Voldemort or Grindlewald if it meant gaining power. “As long as it’s nothing too evil.”

“You’re quite the piece of work, aren’t you? Very will, I will take you as my protégé in glintstone sorcery. That said, I refuse to coddle or cast kind words, so prepare yourself, young apprentice.”

The sky was becoming more red the closer they traveled to Caelid, and yet the sun was nowhere close to setting. A foul smell was beginning to fill the air, and the howls of strange beasts could be heard in the distance.

Another church sat up ahead, right on the border of Limgrave and Caelid. It marked the point where green grass and lush trees met red earth and desolate landscape. Harry almost sighed in relief at the sight, looking forward to reaching a site of grace and being able to rest before they entered Caelid proper.

He had spent the past two days learning all he could from Sellen, all while having to put up with her condescending attitude that made Melina nearly lose her temper. Eventually, after learning a handful of useful glintstone sorceries, they decided to set off and continue their journey towards Caelid.

Excluding the usual beasts that frequently chased him, as well as dodging Godrick’s men who patrolled the major roads, Harry and Melina’s journey went quite smoothly. At least, that was until they nearly reached the doorstep of the church they were approaching.

The rasping snarl of a blade scraping against stone greeted them, along with a shrill, inhuman laugh. A woman stumbled out of the church then, looking like a mockery of what a Maiden was supposed to be. She was covered in blood, her hands like claws with her teeth bloody and filed into fangs. In her hands she held a massive steel cleaver, rusted and soaked in gore.

Her voice cracked with madness. “Rotten, clever, sweet little Tarnished. You’ll scream nicely.”

Harry raised his wand, his hand not shaking whatsoever at the terrifying sight. As sad as it was, he was becoming stronger and more used to such horrific sights as the cannibal in front of him. “I’m not in the mood.”

She shrieked a laugh and charged towards him.

Glintstone Pebble. He mentally incanted, as Sellen had taught him not to speak when using glintstone sorcery.

A shard of shimmering magic burst from the wand’s tip, and shot off like a bullet fired from a gun. It smacked into the woman’s side, making her stumble, but she still grinned maniacally, as if she cherished his resistance, before she continued charging towards him.

“More!” She howled. “More of your shiny little tricks!”

The first swing of her cleaver came fast—faster than something that large should move. Harry barely rolled aside in time, the impact exploding the ground beside him. He came up with his wand already slashing through the air.

She swung again, and this time Harry didn’t dodge. “Protego!”

A magical shield flared around him, causing the woman’s cleaver to bounce off it. It sent her off balance, making her stumble and nearly fall over, and that was when Harry decided to try out another new sorcery.

Carian slicer. He incanted within his mind, as the outline of a blue blade formed at the end of his wand. He gripped his wand with two hands, his feet spread evenly to maintain his balance, before swinging the glowing sword down.

His blow struck true, and cut her from shoulder to hip. He could feel her runes flow to him with her death, making him stronger, as Harry let the carian blade dissipate before he moved towards the church’s entrance.

“You’re becoming powerful, Harry.” Melina said as the battle came to an end. “Many Tarnished have fallen to that foul woman.”

A simple glance at the area surrounding the church proved Melina right, as the desecrated remains of what was once tarnished warriors decorated the landscape. All the sight did was wear him down, for as beautiful as the Lands Between was, Harry struggled to get over the atrocities he had witnessed since his arrival.

They entered the church then, as Harry spotted the grace sight first, before his eyes raised up to view something that wasn’t present in the other church he visited.

“Who is that?” He couldn’t help but ask.

A large stone statue of a gorgeous woman sat at the front of the church, her arms spread wide as she wore a tiny dress that barely fit over her hourglass form. It seemed wrong for a church of all places to have such an erotic statue, and Harry’s pants tightened the longer he studied it.

“Queen Marika.” Melina answered as they neared the church’s grace site. “Many churches were built throughout the Land’s Between to worship her as the Elden Ring’s vessel.”

“does thou truly seek to be Queen Marika’s third consort, and be Elden Lord?” He remembered Ranni’s words before she departed then, and her strange take on what it would mean to become Elden Lord. Maybe it was his teenage mind speaking, but Harry didn’t think he would mind ruling with a beautiful woman like Marika at his side.

That was when a conversation from earlier drifted to the forefront of his mind, as he remembered what Melina and Alexander had said about Marika’s family. “So she’s the one who gave birth to Radahn and Malenia?”

“To Malenia, yes.” Melina said as she sat next to him. “In her first marriage to Lord Godfrey, she had three children being Godwyn, Morgott, and Mohg. Godfrey soon left the Lands Between, being stripped of Grace, before Marika then married Radagon, the then-husband of Queen Rennala-”

“-who was Ranni’s mother.” He remembered.

“Yes.” Melina nodded. “Marika then had two children with Lord Radagon, being the twins Miquella and Malenia. Along with them, Radagon had three children with Rennala which he brought into the marriage, being Rykard, Radahn, and Ranni.”

“Wait, so Ranni and Radahn are blood siblings?” He frowned. “And wasn’t it Malenia who fought Radahn too? How could siblings even do that?”

He thought of what it would be like to fight the Weasleys for power, or even over something as trivial as the Philosopher’s Stone. Harry wanted to say the people back in his old world would never turn against him, and yet he thought back to the Triwizard Tournament and the nasty looks he received upon being selected Champion. He had yet to speak to any of the Weasleys since his selection, but just knew that things would turn ugly. Perhaps it’s the same here, and that no one is immune to such base emotions like envy or jealousy.

“It cannot be understated how tribal the Shattering war was.” Melina emphasized. “Brother fought sister, civilization crumbled, all while reality fell apart at the seems. The Lands Between in its current form is a shell of its former self. All it waits for now is for someone to defeat what demigods remain and reforge the Elden Ring using their combined Great Runes.”

Harry leaned back against a fallen stone pillar, his limbs feeling heavy then. “I don’t know if I could do it, Melina. To fight all of them would take so much effort, and to becoming Elden Lord on top of that?”

She cuddled closer against his side as if to comfort him as they sat by the grace site. That alone took his mind off the ridiculous situation he was currently in. And yet, as if to further make things more intimate, her hands drifted lower and down to his trousers.

Harry stiffened. “M-Melina?”

“You deserve this.” Melina whispered. “You’re troubled, you’ve had to deal with so much already… Just because of me.”

That wasn’t entirely true, Harry wanted to say. It was hardly Melina’s fault that he arrived in the Lands Between, as all she wanted was for him to take her to the base of the Erdtree. As well as that, Ranni also had some scheme involving him in a way he didn’t entirely understand.

And yet his protests died on his lips when she undid his trousers and pulled them downwards, making Harry’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull at her forwardness. His cock sprung outwards then, pointing high towards the sky as it thickened and lengthened with blood. It was hard and massive, being little over a foot in length and as thick as his bicep. Below it sat two large balls, each big enough to overflow his palm and housing enough seed to fornicate for hours on end.

Melina stared at it as if enraptured, her expression breathless with red tinting her cheeks. Soon though, she reached forward and wrapped a delicate hand around his shaft, making it twitch in anticipation.

“Ah…” Harry let out a breath as she ran her hand up and down it, before she grasped his cock with both hands as she began jacking him off.

“You’re going to become Elden Lord.” Melina stated as an indisputable fact. “But you’re not going to become Lord of the Lands Between by doing what others want, Harry. You need not hesitate no longer, nor wait for others approval before taking a step forward. You treat your will as if it must be measured against the world before it matters, when already you are strong where it counts.”

Harry frowned. “And what, you think I should start acting like I own the place?”

She didn’t smile, but there was something almost close to it in the way she spoke next. “If you mean to reach the Erdtree… yes.”

“You want me to be selfish.”

“And is that really so bad?” Melina asked as she continued to rub his manhood. “You carry strength in you, yet treat it as if it were something borrowed. I have seen the way you hold back. In your decisions. In your words. Even in your gaze.”

Harry’s expression shifted. “I’m not trying to be weak.”

“No.” she said gently. “But you are trying not to offend. You move through the world as though afraid of disrupting it, as if terrified of leaving your mark.”

“I’m not like the others. I’m not power-hungry. I’m not… fighting to be a Lord.” His eyes drifted to the Marika statue as he finished speaking, and his cock revealed the truth as it twitched in arousal. It made Melina smile, as if she was pleased he didn’t hold back his lust.

“Why not?” She asked. “Is it really so bad to have ones desires out in the open? Even if you are quieter about it, that is not weakness.”

“Wanting something for myself feels wrong.” He admitted. “I’m just used to… putting myself last.”

He thought of Privet Drive, and how Dudley’s gang always ran roughshod over him because of his lack of assertiveness. That same mentality followed him to Hogwarts, with him refusing to speak up as disaster and unjust events happened year after year. Even when his name was pulled out of the Goblet of Fire a few days ago, he had failed to speak up properly.

Her hands continued to rub his cock. “And where has that left you?”

He already knew the answer.

“You were chosen by grace. The fingermaidens do not bind themselves to cowards, nor saints. You are meant to shape the world, not to ask its permission.” She paused, as if preparing her next words. “Stop waiting, Harry. If you want something, then take it.”

She was right. The realization came easy to him then, that he needed to change else nothing would be different in his life.

“Stop.”

The words caused Melina to freeze mid stroke, and she looked at him with worry then. Harry reached down and grasped his cock then, before looking back at her with a feral glint in his eye. “Use your mouth.”

Melina moved like a robot under his orders, her body stiff as she tried to adapt to the new side of him she had awakened. Her body bent lower, her hands grasping his cock and guiding it to her lips, as the intimidating head of his shaft entered her warm mouth.

His hands ran through her brown hair, all while Melina focused intently on sucking him off. As much as he hated to admit it, to finally let loose and hold power over her felt good.

“Good girl.” The words of approval escaped his lips as a growl, making her singular golden eye look up at him intently. Her gaze conveyed her devotion to him, the belief that he would be the next Elden Lord.

He realized that she was like putty in his hands, willing to follow his every command and pleasure him in any way he wanted. Just for fun, he grabbed the back of her skull and pushed her deeper down his shaft, making her face contort in concentration.

His hips began to move then, pumping his shaft in and out of her mouth, and even going as far as to push it down her throat. His balls shook, and he could feel his warm wizard seed getting ready to burst from his tip. For a moment he was tempted not to tell Melina, but eventually decided to be nice.

“I’m going to cum, swallow it.” The words came out of his mouth as an order.

Melina nodded, something that was hard to do with such a large object imbedded in her mouth. Her hands wrapped around the part of his cock sticking out of her mouth to further entice him, and eventually his organ gave a mighty lurch before he blew his load.

GLURK GLURK GLURK

Melina worked tirelessly to gulp down his load, all while Harry watched on passionately. The woman had awakened something powerful within him, and he wondered if it was a bad thing she did so. Either way, he was looking forward to the days to come with just him and Melina alone.

Links: Linktree

Chapter Text

Is this hell? Harry couldn’t help but wonder, before dismissing that thought entirely. No, there’s no way hell is worse than this. 

The red and corrupted environment of Caelid stretched out in all directions as he and Melina rode Torrent on one of the old stone roads that still remained partly intact.

The very skies seemed to bleed, the sands beneath Torrent’s hooves red like dried blood, while dark and twisted trees lined the road. The wildlife looked mostly dead, with big and disgusting mushrooms and fungal growths acting as scenery. 

And if that wasn’t bad enough, the creatures within Caelid were the stuff of nightmares. Massive hounds, inferi, and even dragons could be seen off in the distance. All of which made the Forbidden Forest outside Hogwarts look like a friendly neighborhood park in comparison.

That wasn’t to mention the stench of it all, the smell of rot intermittent with smoke filling the air. Harry was certain he would have to burn his current Hogwarts robes after leaving Caelid and would be sure to never return. 

“Are you okay, Harry?” Melina asked from behind him, sounding very concerned. 

Am I okay? The answer to that question was a simple no. His head was spinning while his vision felt worse than ever. Everything seemed to be off-balance, and his limbs were beginning to feel heavy.

“Y-Yeah…” Harry stuttered out, feeling as if the breath had been sucked from his lungs. “I just, y-you know…”

At first, he had been sure that it was something in the air that made him feel uneasy, but now he felt downright ill. A fever was taking over his body, making him feel weaker than ever, and it was becoming difficult to maintain balance on his spectral steed.

He reached to grab Torrent’s reins, only for his foot to slide out of the stirrup as he suddenly pitched forward. 

“Harry!”

He could hear Melina shouting his name too late, as he fell from Torrent and landed harshly on the ground. That was when his vision went to black.

“Gah! Pah! W-What the…” He snapped awake, only to spit out a foul liquid that somehow got in his mouth. He looked around, seeing he was in some sort of strange dark place, and had been lying in ankle-deep murky water. “Where am I?”

He could only see so far, with a small area only a few dozen feet in diameter around him, which was surrounded by eerie darkness. He guessed that he was in some sort of cave, but looking straight upwards allowed him to see the stars, meaning that he was somewhere completely unknown. 

“ TARNISHED OF DESTINED DEATH ”

A deep feminine voice sounded out from all directions then.

“ YOU HAVE ENTERED MY DOMAIN ”

Harry’s wand was already out, as he spun around, pointing it in all directions while he searched for the voice’s source. That was when an unknown woman appeared.

A tall, red-haired woman walked out from the surrounding darkness, having the confident poise of a warrior as well as someone extremely dangerous. Her entire right arm was a gold prosthetic, and in its hand was a lengthy gold katana. And yet it wasn’t just her right arm that was replaced, as Harry noted that both her legs were prosthetics as well. On her head sat a golden winged helmet, with slits in the front for her to see.

She’s going to attack me, isn’t she? For some reason, he felt a harsh bead of sweat run down his brow. He wet his lips and replaced his wand with the Tree Sentinel’s Golden Halberd. She’s only a woman with a big sword, Harry, you’ve handled worse.

He thought of his fight against the tree sentinel, and even before that when he fought the Basilisk in his second year. He was desperately trying to boost his confidence, and yet his heart rate continued to skyrocket as the woman got closer. 

“I am Malenia, Blade of Miquella.” She said as she walked closer, enough that he could make out the strange scars on her exposed skin. “And I have never known defeat.”

Wait, did she say Malenia? His eyes widened comically in recognition, as suddenly the woman lunged forward faster than his eye could follow. He barely managed to get his halberd up in time, as she slashed directly at his chest. The next thing Harry knew, he was knocked back by the blow. 

Knocked back would be the polite way to put it, as Harry was actually sent spiraling head over heels twenty feet back before he landed in the disgusting, murky water. 

The wind was knocked out of him by that singular blow, his strength rendered useless while his newfound confidence withered and died. He tried to orient himself upwards, barely managing to sit up, but that was when his eyes widened in horror. 

Malenia was already standing over him. She hoisted her blade up before bringing it down almost casually, and once again, Harry had to scramble to get his own weapon in the way to block her sword. 

“AH! Fuck!” He was damn near flattened by the blow, with her katana pressing against his halberd, which, in turn, pushed him against the ground. He could feel pain in his chest from her strength, his arms trying and failing to push against her blade. 

Eventually, she pulled her weapon back, and it was then that Harry quickly rolled to the side before lunging on all fours to get away until he got to his feet. He then holstered the halberd and took out his wand before pointing it at the woman. Malenia simply watched him with indifference as he gave his wand a twirl. “Expelliarmus!”

The spell neared her, getting closer and closer, until finally, right as it was about to hit, she sidestepped it with ease. He was left gaping by the move, as despite it being a simple sidestep, the eight-foot-tall redhead pulled it off with the grace of a professional ballerina. So swift and graceful were her movements that Harry immediately knew he had no chance at winning this fight.

Don’t give up! He screamed the words internally as his wand was moving and launching spell after spell. Each of which was dodged and danced around with movements he thought impossible for such a large woman, done with speed and grace of movement that spoke of skill he couldn’t dream of competing with.

Finally, she got close enough and launched outwards with a diagonal swing of her blade that was ready to bisect him. Harry moved in that moment, launching himself back and missing the blade’s edge by a mere inch. But Malenia wasn’t done, and another swipe of her blade cut through the air with a loud whoosh. 

He wasn’t so lucky that time, as part of his left arm was cut, and blood began to stain his robes. But Harry didn’t stop moving, as to pause for even a moment against such a foe would guarantee certain death.

Her blade came in from the side then, almost as if smelling blood and targeting his left side specifically, and Harry brought up his wand. Carian Slicer. 

He poured magic into the spell, erecting a sword at the end of his wand, which he wielded with one hand. It slammed against Malenia’s blade mid swing, eliciting a loud clang as his glintstone sword held strong. The only reason he didn’t go flying in that moment was because of the sheer amount of magic he poured into the move, requiring a substantial amount of power to simply stop her blade before it could reach him. 

If Malenia was unsettled, she didn’t show it, instead twisting her massive katana in such a way that he had to jump back, or else he risked losing his arm. And yet he didn’t get away unscathed, with the edge of her katana slashing the upper part of his right shoulder.

I can’t keep this up. The dark realization came as he examined his wounds, seeing that his bloody left arm was dangling uselessly at his side while his right shoulder was beginning to numb as it leaked blood. His body was going to give up if he didn’t finish things soon, and yet Harry knew he would never be able to beat his opponent in such a state.

As if knowing he was distracted, she launched herself at him again, and Harry conjured the Carian slicer before bringing it down. His movements were now slow and sluggish, his breathing heavy, and he missed the redhead by a wide margin with his conjured sword. 

Malenia didn’t try to stab him this time, instead flipping over him as if she was going to stab him in the back. Yet she subverted his expectations, as she instead grabbed his robes before flinging him into the air. 

Airborne, Harry was unable to do much of anything as he was sent flying high, before gravity reasserted itself, and he began falling back down to earth. And it was then he realized what the redhead’s intention was, as the wicked, sharp edge of her sword was pointed straight upwards, ready to skewer him through once he finally landed.

This can’t be happening. This cannot be happening. The words repeated in his mind as he fell towards the sword. Time seemed to come to a crawl, with the events of the past hour coming back to him then. 

He remembered entering Caelid, and then quickly falling ill before ultimately falling off Torrent. After that… Well, Harry couldn’t remember anything after that. He had woken up in the strange location he was in before being attacked by one of the most infamous demigods in the Lands Between. The suddenness of it all was too strange and made practically no sense whatsoever. And it was at that point that he came to a gradual realization.

This isn’t real. He realized as he fell. Everything from the unknown location, the surrounding fog, and even the night sky was fake. This is a vision.

That realization brought about change, as everything froze all of a sudden. He looked down at Malenia, seeing the red-haired demigod staring up at him with a blank expression. And yet, as the room began to fade and the vision ended, he could’ve sworn a small smile found itself onto her face.

Slowly, his eyes opened as familiar blood red skies greeted him once again. The stench of Caelid came next, nearly drowning his senses, and he quickly felt his body for any wounds, only to find none. That caused him to let out a sigh of relief, meaning that it really was a dream and not real.

“~ary? Harry? Harry, are you okay?” Melina was hovering over him then, looking immensely concerned. 

“Y-Yeah.” He managed to get out, feeling out of breath. “How long was I out?”

“Only a few hours.” She held a hand to his forehead. “Whatever sickness you had is gone. I had to drag your body here and hide behind this rock.”

Shame burned in him then, knowing that his Maiden had to drag him to safety in the middle of Caelid of all places. It didn’t help that he got beat up by a beautiful woman in a rot-imbued dream of all things.

He sat up and looked around, seeing they were in hidden in one of Caelid’s forests. Melina had indeed dragged his unconscious body off the road and found them a temporary safe place behind a large boulder.

Something large roared in the background then, and the hairs on his arms raised in fright. “What was that?”

“There’s a dragon nearby.” Melina answered, peeking over the boulder before gesturing for him to follow. He did so and found himself next to her as they both spied on what could be described as a large dragon covered in white fur.

The beast looked sickly and thin, yet rabid at the same time. He watched as it stood next to the main road running through Caelid, and knew if they wanted to continue onwards, they would somehow have to get past it.

“Is there any way around it?” He asked, not wanting to fight such a beast. 

“There is.” Melina looked grim. “We can ride Torrent through the Swamp of Aeonia, a pool of rot sitting in the center of Caelid. It will actually cut a lot of time off our trip, as the town of Sellia lies just beyond it.”

Going through a rot swamp sounds appealing. Harry thought sarcastically as his eye twitched in irritation. For a moment, he considered facing the dragon instead, thinking that he might be able to sprint past the beast on Torrent before he discarded that idea entirely. Dragons could fly, and this one might also be able to breathe fire, meaning it would be nearly impossible to try and escape it. 

“The swamp it is then.”

If Harry thought the stench of Caelid was bad before, it was even worse now. Each step of Torrent’s hooves caused liquid rot to splash up, all while fumes drifted upwards and caused him to cough. 

Scarlet slush was visible everywhere, the swamp’s fog making it hard to see more than a dozen feet in front of them as they rode through. Every now and then Torrent passed by ruins and broken statues, and sometimes even the swamp’s disgusting residents, whether it be rotten rodents or more inferi.

After a while, his spectral steed seemed to have had enough of the swamp. Torrent’s head jostled and bucked in irritation, as he neighed and snorted to convey his contempt. 

“Even Torrent grows tired of the rot.” Melina noted from behind him, her arms wrapped around his midsection. “We should find a place to stop soon and let him rest.”

Harry nodded as he began looking around for somewhere to rest in the swamp. Eventually, they came across stone ruins that looked safe enough to stop, and Harry dismounted Torrent before the spectral steed dissipated into motes of light.

“A moment to rest should do us all some good.” Melina said, walking over to a fallen pillar before taking a seat. 

Harry just nodded and began looking around the ruins for anything interesting. He walked along the ruined stone wall of the building, tracing the ruin’s perimeter, before something caught his eye.

A giant stick resembling a wand that Hagrid would use laid on the ground, likely having been untouched and left behind by whoever occupied these ruins before. Harry reached down and picked it up, examining the large wooden stick that was used for casting sorcery. 

Sorceress Sellen had used a staff herself to cast glintstone sorceries, and Harry could use his wand to cast sorcery and spells as well. That said, it wouldn’t hurt for him to have an extra staff on hand to use for magic. It’s called the Meteorite staff... wait, how did I know that?

He shook his head, putting the staff away and turning to investigate the rest of the ruins. In the middle of the ruined stone building sat stairs that descended underground, and Harry pulled out his wand before following them down. 

“Lumos.” He murmured, casting a light with his wand as he entered the ruin’s basement. It was at the bottom of the stairwell that a metal door sat, and a wave of his wand opened it. 

Behind that door sat a chest, and Harry opened it to find a scroll inside. Still holding his wand for light, he opened the scroll, only for his eyes to widen at its contents. Instructions for the Rock Sling sorcery… Can’t say I’ve heard of this gravity magic stuff before, but it sounds useful.

“Harry?” Melina’s voice called down from behind him. “Harry, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He called back, putting the scroll away and vowing to look into gravity magic in the future. “I’ll be right up.”

He walked back up the stairs to find Melina waiting for him. “I think you can call Torrent once again; he should have recovered by now.”

He nodded, taking the spectral steed’s whistle in hand and summoning Torrent. After that, they were both on the saddle and riding through the swamp once again.

“I can’t wait to get out of this swamp.” He said as they rode through the red slush that was the Swamp of Aeonia. 

“I think that’s true for all of us.” Melina spoke. “Caelid used to be beautiful and prosperous once… that was until Malenia and General Radahn’s battle. Some say this very swamp is the sight of where their battle took place, and where Malenia cursed Radahn and unleashed her scarlet rot.”

Harry shivered, feeling his heart beat quickly at the reminder of how powerful the demigods were. He suddenly remembered his vision of Malenia then, and realized he had forgotten to tell Melina. “Melina, I-”

“Harry, look!” She interrupted him, pointing ahead to where the swamp finally came to an end. “We’re almost out.”

Indeed, murky red scarlet rot slush soon transitioned to red sands, as Torrent gave a happy noise as they finally exited the swamp. Harry sighed in relief, grateful that he no longer had to deal with the overwhelming stench of the swamp, not that the air in Caelid was that much of an improvement.

Suddenly, right as Torrent turned and walked around a twisted, rot-infected tree, a massive man clad in thick armor came into view. He looked to be infected with scarlet rot, his face swollen, with his once-pristine armor dirtied by time and the Caelid wilds. In one hand, he held a massive halberd, even bigger than the tree sentinel’s own weapon, which he pointed Harry’s way.

“Foul Tarnished.” The giant knight boomed as he approached Harry. “You stand before Commander O’Neil, prepare to die!”

“We don’t have to fight.” Harry tried, yet knowing it was useless to try and resolve things peacefully.

Suddenly, the man sniffed the air, specifically looking at Harry as he did so. His expression became oddly more serious compared to before, and something twisted in Harry’s gut.

“You have her stench.” Commander O’Neil looked displeased. “The Blade of Miquella sent you here.”

He froze, and Melina looked at him strangely. “Harry, what is he talking about?”

“It was a vision.” He recalled his fight with Malenia—or rather, the dream he had where he fought the demigod. “After I entered Caelid, I fell ill and passed out. When I first awoke, I was in some strange cave, and Malenia was there. She tried to kill me.”

Melina stared at him with blanket confusion, her singular eye wide. However, O’Neil had a different reaction, as he hoisted up his halberd. “Then I shall finish what she started.”

“W-Wait!” He stuttered out, not wanting to get in a fight once again. “It was a vision, nothing more!”

“The Rot works in mysterious ways, boy.” The commander growled, for once sounding oddly coherent. “Prepare yourself, Tarnished, for I shall show you no mercy!”

The halberd slammed down into the earth, and suddenly Harry was surrounded on all sides by ghosts. They resembled soldiers, as they wielded weapons of all kinds as they turned to face him, with those holding crossbows launching bolts his way while the ones holding swords charged. He swiftly dismissed Torrent and sent Melina away, before facing the ghost-like soldiers that the man had summoned.

“Protego!” He cast a shield just in time, blocking the crossbow bolts headed his way. After that, the ghosts wielding swords attacked and smashed their weapons against his conjured shield, causing cracks to appear.

He pulled out the golden halberd he had taken from the Tree Sentinel, while in his other hand he wielded the Carian slicer sorcery with his wand. Eventually, the surrounding ghosts broke through his shield, and that was when he struck. 

He launched himself at two of them wielding swords, his halberd smashing one ghost into smoke while his wand slashed with the carian slicer a couple of times to little effect before the other ghost finally dissipated. 

As that happened, the other ghosts approached, all while Commander O’Neil watched him patiently from the background. It seemed that it was part of the Commander’s strategy to examine his enemy while he dealt with the summoned ghosts, before finally confronting them. Harry would admit it was a good strategy, as the ghosts were meant to tire a strong enemy out before the Commander finally intervened. 

A few crossbow bolts whizzed past him then, and Harry ended the Carian slicer sorcery before pointing his wand at the two summoned ghosts firing arrows his way.“Expulso! Stupify! Reducto!”

His first spell obliterated the ghost on the right, with the second stunning spell only dazing the other ghost. That was when he used the Reducto curse and destroyed it. 

It was when he finished that the remaining summoned ghosts attacked, and Harry blitzed through them with his golden halberd, smashing them to pieces with pure brute force. 

Finally, he faced Commander O’Neil alone, his wand and golden halberd in hand as he stared the rot-infected man down. The commander simply growled, lifting up his halberd and giving it a great twirl.

He realized too late that the Commander was using some form of magic, as the air around him began turning into sharp gusts of wind which formed cutting blades. The air swirled like a hurricane around the Commander, and Harry caught the stench of scarlet rot, which amplified the attack. 

Harry threw himself to the ground to avoid the wind-based attack and managed to look up to see the Commander launch himself towards him. He barely managed to get his own halberd up to deflect the blow, before swiftly moving back to gain distance. 

“You’re too young to challenge me, Tarnished!” Commander O’Neil boasted, as he twirled his halberd to perform another wind attack. 

A sudden thought occurred to Harry then as he watched the man prepare to use his wind-based sorcery, being that wind was weak to fire. Wildfires often spread because of harsh winds after all, and the same concept could apply on a smaller scale. 

He held out his wand and waited until right before the Commander started his hurricane attack, before twisting his wand in a flame-like motion. “Incendio!”

Fire left his wand and conjoined with the strong winds surrounding Commander O’Neil, as what was a sprout of flame from his wand suddenly became a tornado-like inferno. The fire was so hot he had to move away and end the spell early, else risk getting burned from the heat alone. 

When the flames turned to smoke and drifted away, it revealed a torched and charred Commander O’Neil, his body nearly unrecognizable with his armor melted onto his skin. 

“Harry!” Melina called out from behind him, and he saw her walk out from behind a nearby tree. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m just fine.” He answered, feeling the runes from his defeated opponent flow into him and make him even stronger than before. Commander O’Neil was stronger than the Tree Sentinel, that much he could conclude, yet his might still paled in comparison to Malenia and the other demigods. But that didn’t mean his defeated foe was to be ignored, as Harry was sure most wizards would be taken down by the Commander.

Harry thought all this while he eyed the man’s burned body, until something got his attention then. An intricate gold needle stuck out from the Commander’s armor, looking masterfully crafted while being untouched by rot, and Harry reached down to take it.

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He reached down to grasp the golden needle, all the while feeling as if something wasn’t right. And yet the area around them was empty of inhabitants, and a thorough look confirmed the Commander’s summoned ghosts were gone.

With a shrug, he picked up the strange needle, and immediately felt himself sway. Yet unlike before when he fell unconscious, it was as if his very soul was being sucked into the needle, rather than a fever taking him.

Harry swayed on his feet, falling to his knees as Melina called out to him in the background. And yet his gaze stayed locked on the golden needle, even as his vision darkened and went to black.

He awoke in a different place than before this time, reminiscent of being inside the trunk of a large tree. Leaves floated down and covered the ground, with a puddle of water accumulating in the center of the tree.

Harry would admit to being distracted by the nuance of it all, as he examined his surroundings for quite some time before he finally noticed that he wasn’t alone. There was only one other person present in the room, being a familiar redheaded woman who he had faced before.

She sat in a large wooden chair clearly made to accommodate her size, her posture slumped, tired, and defeated, as her golden prosthetic arm laid on the ground before her. She looked terribly ill, her skin pale where visible, and covered in various scars and scabs elsewhere. Upon getting closer, Harry could tell it was the result of scarlet rot that caused such an affliction.

But for all of her scars and signs of rot… she looked beautiful.

She was easily the most beautiful woman Harry had ever seen, but not in ways he could easily explain. She wasn’t sexy in a way that made most guys drool, like Fleur Delacour was, nor was she curvy yet sophisticated like some of the Slytherin girls at Hogwarts. Instead she was beautiful in the sense she seemed untouchable, in a category of her own akin to how a goddess would be compared to mere mortals.

He cautiously neared her, only getting a couple feet away before Malenia stirred. Her head shifted to face him, her eyes opening to reveal golden irises that only those in the Lands Between could possess. She looked exhausted, and yet he could tell she was eyeing him cautiously, ready to defend herself at any moment.

“Tarnished? How are you…” Malenia seemed to trail off as something like understanding appeared on her features. “You are not truly in my presence, are you?”

“Are you going to attack me?” He asked in turn, readying himself for anything to happen. The other version of Malenia he faced had attacked him almost immediately.

“That depends.” She answered truthfully, and Harry got the impression she wasn’t someone to lie. “Does thou want to become a Lord, and seek my Great Rune?”

“That’s not why I’m here.” He felt insulted by her insinuation, even if he was committed to becoming Elden Lord. That said, the idea of attacking a defenseless and sick woman to gain her Great Rune was not something he would do. “I touched some sort of gold needle thing while in Caelid, and I ended up here…”

“Miquella’s needle… Miquella… Dearest brother, where are you? ” He stopped talking as Malenia seemed to become sad, falling into a world of her own before her gold eyes seemed to focus on him once again. “Tarnished, have you bare witness to my brother? Miquella is his name.”

“I can’t say I have.” He replied. “But I can keep an eye out for him.”

“You would look for him?” The way she was looking at him then made Harry feel very strange, as if he had done some great deed and was to be commended for it. It almost seemed wrong for a woman of such high status to look at him in such a light. In a way, it reminded Harry of how others saw him as the Boy-Who-Lived.

“…I will.” He eventually answered. “Although I’m not sure how to contact you if I find anything important. Honestly, I don’t know how we are even talking right now.”

A glance downwards showed that his body wasn’t truly there, being made up of wisps of light akin to a ghost. He was like a foreign projection in Malenia’s home, not really being there in the first place, and yet she still interacted with him despite this.

Malenia stared at him for some time, all the while it seemed as if she was deep in thought. He could tell the woman knew more about what was going on than he did, and it was like her eyes were seeing into him.

“There is a woman not far from where you are, a girl, who happens to be very similar to myself.” She spoke at last. “You shall find her, and she will take you before me. But before that, she will require Miquella’s Needle to heal from her affliction, and it will be your duty to see such a thing come to pass.”

“Oh.” Once again, it seemed that another person was asking things of him. First it had been Melina, then Ranni, and now it was Malenia of all people. And they didn’t just ask simple favors of him, but rather dangerous quests that were very likely to see him killed.

“Perhaps I ask too much of you, forgive me.” He could’ve sworn her cheeks pinked in embarrassment, as she seemed to read his very thoughts. “This is the first conversation I’ve had in some time. And with a Tarnished of all people… Tell me, what is thy name, warrior?”

“Harry Potter.”

“You have been very kind to me, Harry Potter.” A slight smile graced her lips, and Harry felt his own cheeks redden. “I shall await your arrival.”

In an instant, he was back in the real world. The transition from vision to reality was a lot less jarring this time, as his eyes opened normally and he could immediately distinguish his surroundings.

He slowly sat up to see he was near a village surrounded by stone walls, embedded within the red landscape of Caelid. Melina had clearly dragged him here, as he laid by a Site of Grace with Torrent standing lazily off to the side.

“Good, you’re awake.” Melina’s voice drifted over to him, and he turned to see her trudging his way with a strange staff in hand. “I had a look around while you were out.”

As she got closer, Harry looked down to see the golden needle was still cradled in his hand. He pocketed it and stood, facing Melina as she reached the Grace Site.

“The town is known as Sellia, and it’s full of sorcerers. We’re not too far from Fort Faroth, and it should be visible soon.” Melina spoke, gesturing towards a ridge-line that overshadowed the town. “Once we get up there, it will come into view.”

Harry grimaced as he studied the hill they would have to climb, seeing massive hounds, birds, and oversized insects that he would have to avoid along the way. He shook his head and turned back to Melina, and focused on the strange staff she held. “Melina, what is that you’re holding?”

Her eyes widened in realization as she held up the staff for him to examine. An ornate wooden handle let to a spherical rock at the end, with the rock cracked open to reveal crystals resting inside. Originally, he thought it was a bludgeoning weapon, akin to a beater’s bat, but he soon realized it was a magical staff.

“I had a look around the town and managed to find this on the outskirts.” Melina stated, before handing it to him. “I figured you could use it, Harry.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, taking the magical staff before information about it flooded his mind. Lusat’s Glintstone Staff.

That was the second staff he now had, with the Meteorite Staff being the other one. Even if he was using his wand for all sorceries and things magic-related, it wouldn’t hurt to have backups. There was also the possibility he could use Lusat’s staff to bludgeon his enemies into submission if need be.

“I suppose we better get moving then.”

Melina frowned in concern. “But what of your condition, Harry? This is the second time now you’ve fallen unconscious since we entered Caelid.”

He bit his tongue to avoid blurting anything out, opting instead to withhold information from her for the time being. Harry knew he needed to have a long talk with Melina at some point, but doing so in the middle of Caelid wasn’t a good idea.

I’ll need to tell her about Malenia at some point. The connection between him and the demigoddess was strange to say the least, and Harry wasn’t ready to dwell on the subject quite yet.

There was also the girl which Malenia told him to seek out, and to deliver Miquella’s needle to. And Harry got the sense that he would be seeing the girl in question very soon.

“Then it’s better we hurry and get out of here as soon as possible.” Harry avoided addressing her concerns, in favor of hopping on Torrent. “The sooner we get to that Fort and get the Medallion, the quicker we can be done with this place.”

In fact, Harry was starting to worry about his own life back at Hogwarts. He had been in the Lands Between for nearly a week at that point, and could only guess what was going on back home.

The more vindictive part of himself whispered that no one would notice, or even care, about his absence. Everyone was mad at him over the Tournament after all, and it was nice to avoid whatever reactions his classmates had and instead hide in the Lands Between.

But the more reasonable part of his mind said there would be chaos, and he was probably going to return to Hogwarts to find a veritable firestorm raging over his disappearance. The 4th Champion of the Triwizard Tournament disappearing off the map was sure to cause a scandal, and he could only guess what his classmates, and even what the newspapers, would be saying.

He let out a sigh, trying to avoid getting a headache and instead focused on his current situation. In some ways, he almost preferred the life of a Tarnished to that of the Boy-Who-Lived, especially if it meant not dealing with all the publicity and drama.

Melina soon sat behind him as he rode Torrent through a large stone archway and out of the town of Sellia. He didn’t see any residents nearby, and didn’t want to stay around to attract any. Most of the creatures in Caelid were extremely hostile, and Harry doubted the town’s residents were any different.

From there, Torrent began climbing a steep hill which led away from the town, as Harry directed the spectral steed away from any potential enemies. Those giant dogs were all over the place, but luckily he managed to ride Torrent just out of their line of sight.

Soon, as Torrent rode along the desolate Caelid sands, past gnarled trees, giant mushrooms, and other fungal growths, Melina pointed out a familiar sight that made him sag in relief, being a Church of Marika. The ruined stone church was much like the other ones he’d seen before, and he directed Torrent towards it and straight through the entrance.

Upon entering, he noticed the same sexy Marika statue being present, along with a Site of Grace for him to rest at. But that was not all, as a sickly, red-haired girl laid off to the side and against the church’s stone wall.

He approached her cautiously, feeling a tinge of familiarity run down his spine as he got closer. She was tall and thin, her dirty clothes covered in blood, with one arm missing. Her skin was yellow and her eyes gold, and she had beautiful, long, red hair.

“Ngh… W-Who is there?” The girl’s every breath sounded as if it were her last, as she seemed to notice his approach. “Well, it matters not. If you are wise, you will leave me to my fate.”

“What happened to her?” Harry couldn’t help but ask. He felt almost overwhelmed by emotion while staring at the girl, seeing her terrible state and immediately knowing her life was that of tragedy. He wouldn’t wish her fate upon anyone, and desperately wanted to help.

“She is infected with scarlet rot.” Melina said quietly from his side.

Of all the things Harry had seen in the Lands Between, nothing impacted him as much as the sight before him. To see a girl not much older than himself, sick and dying from a disease she couldn’t fight whatsoever… it struck him to the core. She must be the one Malenia sent me to help.

The girl spoke again. “My flesh writhes with scarlet rot. It is a curse I would not wish upon anyone, and for this reason I must ask that you go.”

She was so selfless and kind, prioritizing their own safety over anything else. Harry kneeled down close to her. “What is your name?”

She glanced up at him with familiar gold eyes, and he couldn’t help but note how beautiful she was, despite being sick. “Millicent.”

“I’m Harry Potter, and this is my maiden, Melina.” He pulled out Miquella’s needle, recalling what Malenia had told him. “I’ve been told by a… friend, that this will cure your affliction.”

Both Melina and Millicent’s eyes widened at his words, and they stared at the intricate gold needle.

“You ask that I stab… myself with the needle? But how can such a thing quell the scarlet rot?” Millicent stared at the needle, before she swallowed thickly and seemed to come to a decision. “Nevermind. I would rather trust you than spoil from within.”

She reached out and grasped the needle with her one working limb, her fingers shaking all the while. “Would you mind… averting your eyes for but a moment?”

He nodded and turned to Melina. “Please see to her.”

“But Harry, what is…” She trailed off, obviously confused by the situation and the way in which he was acting.

He could see the questions in her eyes. The strange bouts of unconsciousness over the past day, along with how he knew to treat Millicent, and how it all tied back to Malenia... Not even he had all the answers, and it was becoming quite the headache to try and sort through it all.

“I’ll tell you everything later.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve already been away from Hogwarts for far too long, and I need to head back. While I’m gone, please take care of her.”

Millicent wouldn’t heal from the needle’s influence immediately, as it would likely take time for her to adjust and recover from the scarlet rot. It meant he could leave Melina to take care of her, while he went back to Hogwarts and got things sorted out.

Melina stared at him for a long moment, before nodding and leaning in to give him a quick kiss. While that occurred, neither of them noticed Millicent watching them curiously.

Harry then turned and walked over to the Site of Grace, kneeling down next to it as he focused on returning to the Chamber of Secrets.

The basilisk corpse was still there when he returned to the Chamber, along with Slytherin’s statue. Other than the numerous snake effigies, the only noticeable part of the Chamber of Secrets was the glowing Site of Grace.

He had to wonder if Salazar knew about the Lands Between, and if the entire Chamber had been positioned specifically as a location for a Site of Grace. He even had questions about the Basilisk, and how the Grace site only appeared after Harry actually slew the beast, meaning it was possible the serpent might have originated from the Lands Between. That said, he had yet to run into any snakes in the Lands Between so far, and would have to look into the matter in the future.

A thought struck him as he looked around the Chamber then, being that he could utilize it as his private base of operations. Already he had accumulated hordes of items and weapons that could be stored in the Chamber, all of which were sitting in the magical pouch that Merchant Kale gifted him.

He could even practice spells and incantations in the Chamber, as Harry was already planning to learn more dangerous magic. The Gravity Magic especially looked powerful, and he was looking forward to learning more about it.

But he put those thoughts away for later, in favor of returning back to his dorm and sleeping on a real bed for once. The past week had been nothing but sleeping on dirty ground while sneaking through hostile territory, and Harry looked forward to having a shower, a feathery bed, and a fresh change of clothes.

He trudged through the Chamber and into the tunnels underneath the school, past the basilisk’s shed skin and the cave-in from his second year. After that he reached the tunnel leading to the second floor girls bath, and looking upwards revealed the sinks were shut.

“Open.” Harry called up the the sinks in parseltongue, before raising his wand skyward. “Ascendio.”

The spell lifted him upwards until he finally reached the top and landed on his feet in the midst of the abandoned girl’s bath. The sinks closed behind him automatically, as Harry looked around to see he was officially back inside Hogwarts’s walls.

Turning his head showed that the moon could be seen through the bathroom’s windows, along with the star-filled sky signaling how late at night it was. A sound got his attention then, being a door unlatching, as one of the bathroom stall doors suddenly opened. I’m not alone…

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Despite appearances, Daphne Greengrass wasn’t immune to the pressures that came with her life. Even she had her limits, and it seemed that those very limits were being severely tested throughout the course of her fourth year of Hogwarts.

She was the heiress of House Greengrass, a position that required her to act befitting of her station at all times. It impacted every aspect of her life, from academics to who was allowed in her presence. And she had been trained her whole life to fill such a role, to eventually take over the Lordship of her Noble House and succeed.

While her fellow classmates were gossiping over boys and reading the newest edition of Witch Weekly, Daphne had been studying to ace exams while also auditing her family’s finances. Politics, economics, and new Ministry policies were all subjects she devoted her time and effort to every day, all in the name of eventually taking over her family’s business and making Greengrass imports more prosperous than ever before.

She had no time for boys, no time for girl gossip, and especially no time to listen to Pansy Parkinson’s fawning over Draco Malfoy. To her, these things were childish, and a simple waste of time for someone of her station. Compared to the rest of the girls in her year, Daphne Greengrass was simply better, superior, and could exist without such things.

And yet she couldn’t help but find herself feeling so… empty. Each day seemed to drag on endlessly, feeling longer and worse than the day before, while the struggle to get out of bed in the morning became ever increasingly harder.

She didn’t know what was happening, why the world seemed to devolve into boring colors, or why getting her family’s financial statements didn’t have the same exciting effect it usually did. It was like she was on an island alone and without air, slowly asphyxiating as her fourth year continued ever onwards.

And so she had finally snapped, fleeing the Slytherin girl’s dorm in the dead of night before locking herself in the 2nd floor girl’s bathroom for privacy. She didn’t dare cry, but came very close, instead opting to sit in an empty stall as she mentally reached her limit.

It was an embarrassment for the Greengrass heiress to act in such a way. And she knew that her father would disown her if he saw her in such a state, but Daphne couldn’t help it. The stress of her situation had finally gotten to her, and she had panicked.

It was as she sat in that bathroom stall all alone that something got her attention then. Outside, the noise of a metal grate opening met her ears, and she stiffened as she realized she wasn’t alone.

Who would come in here at this hour? It was the middle of the night, and in the second floor girls bathroom of all places. Unless someone followed me.

She grasped her wand, slowly opening the stall door and sliding out with an incantation on her lips. That was when she saw who the other person in the girl’s bathroom was, as green eyes meet her blue, and for a brief moment Daphne forgot how to breathe. Harry Potter of all people stood in front of her, his robes a mess as his green eyes stared her down.

Malfoy is even braver than I imagined. Was the first thought that entered her mind, much to her embarrassment. That, or he’s just an idiot to harass Potter like he does.

Harry Potter was downright terrifying up close. His skin was more tan than she expected, littered with scars and old bruises that made him look like some warrior. His body wasn’t overly thin, instead built to be lithe and fast as was fitting of a Quidditch seeker. And then there was his short hair, so dark that it nearly blended into the night, with glowing green eyes that seemed to look into her very soul.

So this is the Wizard who slayed Voldemort. Even if he was credited with doing such a thing when he was a baby, Daphne could definitely see the danger associated with Harry Potter.

And it just so happened that same wizard was alone in a girl’s bathroom of all places with her in the middle of the night.

He took a step towards her then, and Daphne had to fight back the urge to retreat backwards into the bathroom stall. She still held her wand in hand, and she knew enough curses to make seventh-years blanch, but something told her that simple spellwork wouldn’t do anything against Potter.

He kept moving in her direction, his presence soon towering over her as she struggled not to go into fight-or-flight mode, something that shouldn’t be possible. She was the Ice Queen of Slytherin, the most desired girl in Hogwarts with a mean-streak a mile wide, and yet she felt so powerless in that moment.

There was something about Harry Potter, and whether it was his aura, presence, or sheer magical power which made her freeze—she did not know. As soon he was barely a foot from her, his hand propped up against the wall as his gaze bored into her own.

“It’s… Greengrass, right?” He took a moment to recognize her, his voice was deep and gravelly, more so than she originally thought.

“It is.” She managed to get out, all the while feeling somewhat hurt that he didn’t immediately know her name. Daphne always prided herself on her reputation, and it stung that Potter of all people didn’t know her face immediately.

Surprisingly, the question she was about to ask didn’t come from her own mouth, but his. “What are you doing here?”

“T-This is the girl’s bath, Potter. I should ask what you’re doing here?” She cursed herself as she stuttered out first word, and yet she managed to end it on a high note with a glare in his direction.

He simply let out an amused snort, and she could’ve swore his gaze drifted towards the sink for but a moment. “What I do is no business of yours, Greengrass.”

Normally she wouldn’t have pushed for more information, especially from a Gryffindor, but something told her not to let this go. Harry Potter had been missing for the past week, ever since his name came out of the Goblet, and Daphne wanted to know what he was up to.

Most had thought he fled the castle, and there were even rumblings of the Ministry starting a DMLE investigation into his disappearance. Yet now he had reappeared, right inside Hogwarts in the middle of the night, and Daphne Greengrass was the first person to find him. She wanted answers.

She folded her arms, being sure to push up her sizable bust to try and entice him. Much to her satisfaction, his gaze drifted down, but only for an unsatisfying moment before he looked away. “No one’s seen you for the past week, Potter. The Professors are in an uproar and the Ministry might even get involved.”

There was a part of her mind that said interrogating Potter alone in the middle of the night was a bad idea, yet she couldn’t help herself. The desire to figure out how he escaped the notice of every Professor—including Albus Dumbledore—was simply too good to pass up.

“You’re more interested in me than I expected, Daphne.” The way he said her name made her stiffen, and that was before his hand moved. He grabbed a stray strand of her blonde hair, pinching it delicately between his fingers before letting fall carelessly. His beautiful green eyes studied her, and for some reason her knees felt weak. “Do you know what they say about those who look for trouble?”

Why is he acting so different? While she had never interacted with Potter before, Daphne had long ago figured out his personality. He was the perfect Gryffindor, as readable as a book with more courage in his veins than sense, while at the same time being shy and awkward. Yet now he was like a new person, someone who made Daphne feel as if she was in the presence of some beast about to ravage her.

“What would that be, Potter?” She asked, her heart racing with each word.

“They usually find it.” His answer made her freeze, before he suddenly turned and left the bathroom faster than she could form a response.

It was only after he left that Daphne remembered to breathe, as she suddenly inhaled a horrendous smell. “Fuck… what the hell is that stench?”

He didn’t even bother with subtlety as he walked back to the Gryffindor dorms that night. Everyone would soon learn of his return when he was up and walking around the castle anyways, and it didn’t matter if he ran into a Professor or was seen by any portraits before then.

In fact, Harry decided to rip the bandage off quickly by deciding to attend breakfast that morning with the rest of the school.

So in the meantime he got the best sleep he had experienced in a while, with his mattress feeling a thousand times better than sleeping on the ground as he was used to. Next came a shower, as washing off the grime and dirt from the Caelid wilds felt like a miracle cure.

After that came a new set of robes, as Harry made the executive decision to magically destroy his old pair rather than try and salvage them. He had trudged through the swamp of Aeonia after all, and didn’t want to risk spreading any scarlet rot that might’ve gotten on his robes.

It took Harry quite some time to accomplish all of this, and when he reentered his dorm room from the bathroom, he found that all of his roommates were already gone. That meant two things, either that they noticed his return and decided not to wait for him out of spite, or somehow didn’t notice he returned in the first place. Sadly, Harry was leaning towards the first option.

His entrance to the Gryffindor common room gathered quite a lot of attention, as whispered conversations and scrutinizing looks were sent his way by his housemates. Harry barely paid attention to any of it, ignoring them all and exiting through the Fat Lady portrait before heading to the Great Hall.

If the looks sent his way in the common room were any indication, then the reaction of students from other Houses was worse than the Gryffindors. Glares, harsh whispers, and taunts greeted him as he navigated the halls, and that was before he finally entered the Great Hall.

The four tables seemed to go silent as he entered, as the Professors at the head table all stared at him. It was almost like he was experiencing his second year all over again, akin to some pariah that the student body was against.

He did his best to ignore it all, setting course for the Gryffindor table before realizing that his roommates were present, yet not sitting in their normal seats. Ron, Seamus, and Dean had obviously noticed his return earlier in the dorms, and were seated in such a way so he couldn’t possibly sit with them. They were squeezed in with the older years, the group of which looking unhappy with him, leaving Harry to sit alone further down the table.

As more students drifted in, they also seemed to catch on to his presence, as soon everyone in the Great Hall was whispering and pointing his way. For his part, Harry began piling food onto his plate like never before, grateful he didn’t have to forage for food in Limgrave anymore.

But eventually someone approached him, as a curly brunette witch practically stormed over before sitting right in front of him. Luckily, it happened right after he devoured enough eggs and pancakes to make Dudley jealous.

“Where have you been?” Hermione hissed.

“Hermione, how have you been?” He tried not to grimace at her tone.

“Things have been terrible, Harry.” She glowered. “Ron and the rest of the school believe that you snuck your name in the Goblet. And then on top of all that you just had to go off and disappear for a week!”

“I didn’t put my name in the Goblet, Hermione.” He didn’t answer her unasked question. “I never wanted to be part of this tournament in the first place.”

“Yes, well, the others don’t seem to care much about that.” She looked stressed. “They only see the fame of being a Champion, along with the prize money that comes with it. You haven’t exactly helped yourself by running off like you did.”

She was only confirming what he already knew, but it still hurt to know his friends had abandoned him. “So you’ve sided with Ron and the others then?”

“I don’t have much of a choice, Harry.” She said forcefully. “Practically the whole school is against you. Just me talking with you right now is sure to get me in trouble.”

He looked down the table towards the others, and saw several people looking their way. Ron caught his eye then, and the redhead sent Harry a frown accompanied by a nasty look before turning away. It made his stomach sour as he suddenly lost his appetite.

“Then don’t talk to me, Hermione.” The words came out more bitter than he would have liked. “Go sit with Ron and listen as he rags on me for something I never wanted.”

“Harry, that’s not what I-”

He ignored her and stood, appetite forgotten, as he briskly walked out of the Great Hall. He had better uses of his time than gorging himself on food and dealing with Ron’s pettiness.

Before he could fully exit, however, McGonagall headed his way and stopped him at the entrance. The Hogwarts Headmistress had a weary but stern expression on her features, as if she was truly done with dealing with his antics.

“You’ve made quite the spectacle by your disappearance, Potter.” McGonagall said to him, before her expression softened. “Please don’t disappear like that again.”

He blinked. “You’re not mad, Professor?”

“I can understand needing some time to yourself after your name came out of the Goblet.” She spoke earnestly, until a heavy frown appeared. “That, and Champions are allowed to skip all classes and coursework in their preparation for the Tournament.”

“Oh, um… Thanks, Professor.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly, realizing he had done something she didn’t like but could do nothing about.

“That said, I do need to inform you of an upcoming event that is associated with the Tournament.” She said. “The Champions Weighing of the Wands will take place this afternoon, and it would be best your wand is ready to be inspected by whichever wandmaker the judges decide upon.”

The weighing of the wands was held in one of Hogwarts many abandoned classrooms. Harry entered it to find he was one of the last to arrive, with the tournament judges, the various Headmasters, and other Champions already present. The press was even there, and immediately a blonde woman approached him upon entering.

“Potter! Just the boy I was looking for!” The reporter gave him an ugly smirk that made him queasy. “I’m Rita Skeeter with the Daily Prophet. How about we go somewhere more private for an interview?”

Her fingers wrapped around his arm, as she attempted to forcefully guide him out of the room and to somewhere quite. Harry didn’t budge however, and for the reporter it must have been like trying to move a mountain in that moment. He had become much stronger in his time spent in the Lands Between.

“…Or I guess we can do the interview right here.” The blonde eventually decided, realizing he wasn’t going to budge. “Tell me, Harry, where have you been since your name came out the Goblet?”

“Preparing for the tournament.” He shrugged, guessing that was as good an answer as any.

“And why did you enter the tournament, Harry?” Her gaze sharpened into a nasty edge.

“I didn’t enter.” He frowned in irritation. “I have no idea how my name came out of the Goblet.”

“And how do you feel about the tasks ahead? Excited? Nervous?”

“I haven’t really thought much about it…” He trailed off, wondering for the first time just what the tasks would be like. “Can’t be any harder than anything else I’ve done.”

“Such bravado! And what do you think your parents would say if they could see you now?” Skeeter smirked cruelly. “Do you think they would be upset their son cheated his way into the Triwizard Tournament?”

He let out an irritated breath, realizing he never should have spoke to the reporter in the first place. “No further questions.”

Before she could say anything else, he slipped away and headed over to where the other Champions were standing on the other side of the room. He saw that Krum was staring out the window, his expression bored as if he would rather be anywhere but there. Diggory was next to him, trying to unsuccessfully strike up a conversation about Quidditch.

“Zat woman is awful, non?” A voice suddenly asked, and he turned to see Fleur Delacour of all people standing next to him. Her arms were crossed with a contemptible frown on her features, as she glared at Rita Skeeter from across the room.

“She is.” Harry eventually spoke, having not expected the Beauxbatons Champion to talk to him. “I’m guessing she interviewed you before me?”

“Oui.” The French witch replied. “Ze woman seemed more interested in my heritage as a Veela than anything else. Perhaps she should have asked about my accomplishments, or all of ze academic records I’ve broken as a student. But in ze end it does not matter, I will win zis tournament regardless and prove myself.”

Arrogant, much. He couldn’t help but slightly smile. “You seem confident.”

“Of course I am.” Fleur sniffed. “At ze end of ze tournament, I will look down on all of you from ze top of my pedestal.”

Across the room, Skeeter seemed to have caught on to their conversation, and was gesturing for her photographer to take pictures of him and Fleur. And while that was happening, it seemed the judges were finally ready for the ceremony to begin.

“Good luck then.” Harry told Fleur, realizing that whatever semblance of conversation they had was over.

“Hello everyone.” Dumbledore greeted every as he stepped forward. “Champions, Judges, Ms. Skeeter, it is now time for us to begin the wand weighing ceremony. Mr. Ollivander, if you could?”

Mr. Ollivander stood, and Harry realized this was the same man he had bought his wand from years ago. “Mademoiselle Delacour, if you would, please?”

Fleur handed over her wand, and Ollivander took it gently. He turned it over in his hands, his fingers smoothing the wood as he examined it.

“A wand of rosewood… nine and a half inches… inflexible.” He murmured gently, before he frowned oddly. “The core of which is… Veela hair?”

“Oui.” Fleur’s arms were crossed as she frowned heavily. “Ze hair comes from my grandmozzer.”

“Beautiful craftsmanship.” Ollivander remarked, raising the wand and giving it a small swish, causing a stream of silver sparks to erupt from it. He then handed it back to her, and Fleur took it back without saying a word.

“And now, Mr. Krum.” Ollivander said, as the Drumstrang Champion came forth.

Krum stepped up and handed over his wand, a short and stubby piece of wood. Ollivander examined it with the same meticulous care.

“Hornbeam, ten and a quarter inches, and quite solid.” Ollivander spoke easily. “And a dragon heartstring core. Excellent for combat magic, as I’m sure you’ve discovered.”

Viktor grunted his acknowledgment, and Ollivander gave the wand a wave. A small flock of birds erupted from the tip, fluttering briefly before vanishing into smoke. Seemingly satisfied, Ollivander returned the wand with a curt nod.

“Mr. Diggory.” Ollivander called next.

Cedric stepped forward, his wand held with practiced ease. It was long and sleek, polished to perfection.

“Ash wood, twelve and a quarter inches… pleasantly springy.” Ollivander said. “With a unicorn hair core. A fine choice, and well-suited to a wizard with a strong moral compass. You polish your wand often, I assume?”

“Yes, sir.” Cedric said with a polite smile.

Ollivander tested the wand with a flick, conjuring a string of bubbles that floated upwards. “Impeccable.”

Finally, Ollivander turned to Harry. “And now, Mr. Potter, let’s take a look at your wand.”

Harry approached, feeling all eyes on him. He handed over his wand, its familiar weight leaving his hand reluctantly.

“Holly, eleven inches… supple.” Ollivander murmured softly, his expression turning thoughtful. “And with a phoenix feather core—an exceptional core, I might add. The twin of this wand produced remarkable magic, if memory serves. Although this isn’t the cleanest wand I’ve ever held. It’s scarred, heavy with use from unfamiliar magicks.”

Instantly, Harry stiffened, while Skeeter’s eyes widened with delight. “Dark magic?”

“No, not dark.” The wandmaker replied, before his voice became a whisper as he stared at Harry. “Strange magic.”

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