"Normal speech"
"Parseltongue"
Thoughts
"Japanese/ English" (This will be used when Harry or the characters POV does NOT understand the language. Example: The person is speaking Japanese and Harry doesn't understand, vice versa depending on the POV.) I will still write it in English because I'm bad at translations but any bold text should be assumed as Japanese dialect if in Harry's POV! And when speech reverts back to "this" assume someone is translating English for everyone else, Harry will eventually be fluent and it will transition smoothly!
The stars burned around him.
Vast, endless streaks of colour twisted and danced, shimmering galaxies bleeding into the infinite void. The cosmos stretched beyond his understanding, beautiful, and terrifying all at once.
Teddy clutched at his chest, the boy's small hands grasping at his robes, his soft whimpers muffled against Harry's heart.
He couldn't move though.
His body felt numb from the amount of magic he expelled.
The colours around them began to blur and burn before gravity pulled at them sharply. Harry's stomach lurched as the distant ground rushed toward them. Fast. Too fast.
Heart pounding, he stretched out his hand and pushed as much magic as he could spare into the earth below. The impact was deafening, a roaring explosion of heat and light as they struck the ground. Dust and dirt blasted into the air, leaving a smoking crater in their wake. Harry hit the ground hard on his back, the breath knocked out of his lungs.
Teddy sniffled against his chest, his tiny hands clutching Harry's robes. Relief flooded through him, seeing he was okay.
"Luna..." he rasped, forcing himself onto his elbows. His muscles ached with the strain, but his panic cut through the pain.
Where was she?
His breath hitched when he spotted a crumpled figure in the dust, but instead of Luna's blonde hair and silver eyes, he saw deep purple robes embroidered with moons.
Harry froze, his heart thundering in his chest as his brain struggled to catch up. It wasn't Luna who grabbed me. His hand trembled as he stared at it in horror, the truth sinking in like poison.
"What..." The word barely escaped his lips. "What have you done?"
Dumbledore stirred, pushing himself up with a groan. His face was pale and gaunt, but his blue eyes gleamed with cruel satisfaction. "You forced my hand, Harry," he said, brushing dust from his robes as if nothing had happened. "I could not let you leave."
Harry's magic flared violently in his veins as his grief twisted into fury. "Why?" he shouted, his voice raw with emotion. "Why did you do this? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!"
"You just had to play your part," Dumbledore said quietly, his voice carrying an eerie calm. "You don't understand the power you possess."
Harry clenched his fists, shaking with rage. "You stole her chance!" His throat burned with the force of his scream. "We were supposed to be free… you ruined everything." He trailed off with a whisper.
Dumbledore's gaze sharpened. "Freedom?" he scoffed, stepping forward. "You speak of freedom while carrying the weight of magic itself! Do you even understand what you possess?"
Harry opened his mouth to retort, but a flicker of movement caught his eye. Beyond the edge of the crater, he saw figures watching from the shadows.
On one side, a group of people dressed in loose robes, with strange metal plates on their foreheads engraved with four squiggly lines.
Their postures were tense, ready for battle by the looks of the weapons in their hands. On the opposite side, three men stood with a young boy who looked no older than thirteen.
Harry barely registered their shocked expressions.
Instead, he blasted Dumbledore away with a burst of air.
Without hesitation, he unlatched the bronze floating crib from his bracelet and threw it on the ground. It expanded instantly, hovering by his side as he lowered Teddy inside and activated the protective wards with a flick of his fingers, he crib sealing shut.
"Stay safe, my little cub," he murmured.
A jet of red light sizzled past his shoulder. Harry threw up a wall of earth between them just in time, his body already trembling from the magical drain.
"Give up, my boy," Dumbledore called, his voice honey-sweet. "Surrender, and I promise no harm will come to the child."
Harry laughed bitterly, eyes flashing with fury. "Given your track record with children, I don't think I will."
Dumbledore didn't respond, he sent a volley of spells instead. Harry ducked, pulling the earth around him like a wall, his mind racing. He couldn't let this man win.
Not here.
It was time to end this.
His gaze flicked back to the three men and the boy, desperation clawing at his chest.
He needed to protect Teddy.
With a deep breath, Harry pushed a message through legilimency, a surge of intent, pure and wordless: Protect my son. Please. He wasn't sure if it worked, but to his surprise, the bearded man with a cigarette nodded slightly.
That was all he needed.
He sent the crib floating swiftly toward the boy, who caught it with wide eyes.
Dumbledore's magic surged again, and Harry barely managed to deflect it with a shield. But the toll was wearing him down. His limbs trembled with exhaustion.
"You don't understand, do you?" Dumbledore said softly. "You are the key to everything. I'm sorry it had to come to this, but you should have just married me. This all could have been avoided, I would have chosen the easiest bonding ceremony that would have allowed us to share everything. Now, I have to resort to a black magic to gain what is rightfully mine."
Harry's vision blurred, and for a split second, his magic faltered. Tendrils of white gold energy slipped from his skin, drifting towad Dumbledore.
"What—what are you doing?" Harry's voice trembled with panic.
Dumbledore smiled, a thin, cruel curve of his lips. "It's already begun. I've waited years for this, Harry."
Harry staggered as more of his magic leeched away. "Why?" he demanded. "Why are you doing this?"
Dumbledore's voice grew heated, trembling with old, bitter longing. "I could have had it all, the Hallows, the power to bend death itself. Do you think I nurtured you out of kindness? I waited for the day when your power would ripen, when I could take it for myself. Since you refused to bond with me, the only way your magic can be mine is through by siphoning it. I started the ritual on the night of the final battle, it was unfortunate that they coincided."
His words struck Harry like a physical blow. "You—" His voice shook with anger. "You wanted the Hallows? The Peverell legacy? My family magic?"
Dumbledore's expression twisted with raw grief. "If I had that power, I could have saved Ariana. She wouldn't have died, and I wouldn't have lost Gellert. I could have made everything right. You were my only chance. I can go back and change it all with that crystal around your neck. When I first saw it, it was like Gellert's visions came to life. That crystal is the key, and so is your magic!"
The earth cracked beneath Harry's feet as rage and despair surged through him. "You destroyed everything!" His voice broke. "All of this for a chance to change time? You are a fool. All this time, this obsession for a fucking vision! A prophecy! You think I don't know about it? I will make you regret the day you ever heard it!"
Dumbledore's face contorted with greed. "I am beyond regret now."
Something inside Harry snapped. "You want my magic?" His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "Fine. Take it. Take it all."
He poured his remaining power toward Dumbledore, flooding him until the old man gasped, stumbling as he was overwhelmed.
It was the opening he needed.
Harry's muscles burned as he lunged forward, the last of his magic crackling through his veins like lightning. Dumbledore's face twisted with shock as Harry seized his wrists, knocking the elder wand from his bony fingers and flinging it far behind them. It clattered against a jagged rock and rolled to a stop, useless.
For a moment, the old man was too stunned to react.
Harry didn't give him time to recover.
His magic surged again, less refined this time, more primal, as he blasted a wave of fire at Dumbledore's chest. The old wizard snarled, throwing up a wandless shimmering silver shield that cracked beneath the pressure but held.
Not enough. Harry needed more.
He sent a jet of pure, lightning at him, forcing Dumbledore to stumble backward. The air shimmered with raw power, the battle twisting the atmosphere itself. His next strike, a pulse of energy pushed from the rune on his palm, purposefully missed, fizzling past the old wizard and slamming into the air behind him. A golden tear of sparking magic bloomed where the spell hit—a gateway.
Harry felt the familiar pulse through his magical core and reached out with his mind.
Nox… I need you, please.
A roar echoed across the connection, distant but growing stronger. In the blink of an eye, the portal flared brighter in an arc of gold sparking as his dragon burst through.
The ground trembled as Nox landed behind Dumbledore, her enormous black wings folding against her back. Her slitted eyes blazed as she took in the scene. The smell of burned ozone clung to the air.
The distraction allowed him to physically pin the mans arms down, refusing to let him try to summon more magic with his hands.
Dumbledore's magic—his siphoned magic—was trying to crush him from the inside, rising up in violent waves.
"It must have been exhausting…all these years hiding beneath this light façade!" Harry snarled through gritted teeth. "But our world sees who you really are now. Nothing but a fool chasing unattainable power!"
Dumbledore twisted, his face contorting with desperation. "You don't understand, Harry. I am the Master of Death! This was never meant for you, it was always meant for me!"
"Death has no Master," Harry spat back, trembling as he held him tighter. "Send them my regards."
Dumbledore froze as Nox loomed closer, her teeth bared in a savage snarl. The air grew thick with the scent of smoke as the glow of embers danced beneath her dark scales.
Harry's breath hitched. This was his only chance, Dumbledore was draining the very last of his magic, all he could do was hold him still.
"Burn him!" Harry roared. "Please, Nox, burn him. Nothing can be left. Nothing!"
Nox hesitated, her wings quivering.
"Mother…" she rumbled, fear flickering through their bond. "I'll hurt you."
Harry's heart clenched at her worry, but there wasn't time to be gentle.
"I trust you," he gasped. "We are dragons...dragons don't burn."
Dumbledore thrashed against his grip, eyes wild with panic. "No. NO! It won't end like this. I am the Master! I have mastered Death!"
"You are master of nothing," Harry whispered coldly. "Goodbye, Albus Dumbledore."
The world seemed to hold its breath as Nox reared back, her chest glowing with molten fire. For one brief second, Harry saw the betrayal in Dumbledore's eyes, the rage, the disbelief that he could lose.
And then the flames came.
The inferno engulfed them both.
Harry grit his teeth as the heat seared against his skin, his body instinctively pulling on the last dregs of his magic to protect him. It was barely enough, not against a dragon fire.
His vision blurred, the edges of his world burning away as the blistering heat licked at his magic. He barely registered the faint shimmer as Luna's bracelet, his constant reminder of her, began to burn.
A sob caught in his throat as he felt it disintegrate to ash against his wrist.
I'm sorry, Luna, he thought, grief overwhelming the pain. I failed you.
Dumbledore's screams pierced the air, high, keening wails of agony. His wrinkled skin blackened and cracked, the fire eating through robes and flesh alike. The smell of burning hair and scorched magic made Harry want to retch.
Still, he held on.
The old man's struggles grew weaker… and weaker… until finally, they stopped.
The flames burned away his body, leaving nothing but fine ash drifting on the wind and Harry finally felt the siphoning of his magic stop.
When Nox's fire finally dimmed, only Harry remained, collapsed on his knees, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. Smoke curled around his form as his magic trembled weakly within him, drained to the point of collapse.
He lifted his head toward his dragon, the effort making his muscles scream in protest.
"Thank you…" he rasped.
Nox gave a low, mournful rumble, stepping closer to nudge him with her snout. "You're hurt," she whispered, guilt thick in her voice. "I hurt you."
Harry smiled faintly, lifting a shaky hand to stroke her scales. "You saved me," he said softly. "You always save me."
It took everything he had to stand. His legs trembled beneath his weight as he staggered toward Teddy's crib, which still hovered between the three unknown men and the dark-haired boy.
Their faces were pale, eyes wide with shock.
Harry almost laughed at their expressions. He must've looked insane, smoke curling off his basilisk skin clothes, his magic barely holding him together.
"Thank you," he said hoarsely, the crib coming towards him. His magic flared weakly, opening the crib and seeing Teddy's peaceful face.
One of the men, broad-shouldered with a beard and a cigarette hanging from his lips, narrowed his eyes in cautious disbelief.
"Who the hell are you?" the man demanded.
Harry didn't know what the man said and was about to reply when his vision swam. His limbs finally gave out, and the world tilted beneath him.
The last thing he heard before everything faded was a haunting sound, a song. Soft and mournful, yet strangely beautiful.
Phoenix song.
A bittersweet melody of freedom.
And then, there was only darkness.
~ Asuma's POV ~
Asuma Sarutobi had seen many things in his years as a shinobi, war, death, and the endless brutality of the shinobi world. But this… this was something else entirely.
One moment, he and his small escort were preparing to fight a squad of Kiri-nin along the border of the Land of Fire. The enemy was closing in fast, too fast, and if it came down to it, he was ready to sacrifice himself to ensure Prince Shinji made it to safety.
The next moment, the sky exploded.
A blinding red streak tore through the atmosphere, howling like a thousand furious spirits. Asuma barely had time to curse before the impact hit. The ground trembled violently beneath his feet, splitting the earth into jagged chasms. Dust and smoke erupted in every direction, forcing him to throw up an arm to shield his eyes.
The heat from the impact was intense, yet as the dust cleared, his senses sharpened, and what he saw next nearly made his heart stop.
A crater had torn through the earth between them and the Kiri-nin. And in the centre of that burning ruin, two figures were rising slowly from the wreckage.
"What in the hell—" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Is that—are those people?" Saito asked in a bewildered tone, his young voice wavering slightly.
Asuma's eyes narrowed, scanning the figures carefully. One was a teenager, young man really, black-haired and slight in frame but toned, cradling a bundle against his chest, a child, if the muffled cries were anything to go by. The other was an old man draped in moon-patterned robes, his posture stiff with the kind of arrogance Asuma had seen too many times before. Both of them were speaking in a language he couldn't understand, harsh, rapid syllables cutting through the charged air.
But it wasn't the language barrier that put him on edge, it was the sheer pressure coming off them.
The boy's chakra felt… wrong. It didn't flow like normal chakra. Instead, it pulsed wildly, unrestrained.
No hand signs, Asuma noted grimly. Whatever this was, it wasn't ninjutsu as he knew it.
Then, to his further shock, a shimmering bronze orb appeared out of thin air. It floated beside the black-haired boy, as he placed the child inside. The orb slid closed over the infant, sealing him safely within.
"What—" Tanaka choked out, voice trembling. "Who are these nin?"
Before Asuma could answer, his vision blurred, and a foreign pressure invaded his mind. For a split second, he felt something—someone—speaking directly to him. The words didn't make sense, but the feeling behind them did.
Desperation. Protection. An unyielding plea to keep the child safe.
The boy's emerald eyes, bright, piercing, and so damn young, locked onto his, silently begging him for help.
Asuma inhaled sharply, his gut twisting. Despite the chaos, despite the impossibility of it all… he gave a single, firm nod.
The boy's shoulders sagged in relief. And then the world exploded into motion.
The old man struck first.
Bright streaks of light ripped through the air, forcing the teenager to raise a wall of earth in defence. But the boy was exhausted, Asuma could feel it. He was moving slower with each attack, his defences crumbling under the relentless assault.
And yet… he fought.
Without seals or preparation, the boy wielded the elements like they were extensions of his own body. Flames danced across the ground, splitting into molten rivers. Jagged spears of stone burst upward, forcing the old man to retreat momentarily before counteratacking with blinding speed.
Asuma couldn't tear his eyes away. Who are these people? What kind of kekkei genkai was this?
Tanaka was already moving to shield Prince Shinji, positioning himself in front of the boy protectively. "We should get out of here while they're distracted," he urged in a low voice.
But Asuma shook his head. "Not yet." His gut told him this was important. More important than any border skirmish.
And then the boy faltered.
Thin, shimmering wisps of golden chakra, were rising from his skin and being sucked into the old man. Whatever the bastard was doing, it was draining the kid dry.
Damn it.
Asuma clenched his fists, ready to step in, until the impossible happened.
A golden spiral cracked open behind the old man, shimmering and bright. And from it…
A beast emerged.
Asuma's breath hitched. "No way…"
The creature was massive, midnight-black with wings that stretched impossibly wide, scales gleaming like polished obsidian. Its slitted golden eyes burned with intelligence and fury.
"A dragon," Saito whispered, awestruck. "But they're just a myth…"
Asuma wasn't sure what to believe anymore.
The beast circled once before landing with a ground-shaking thud.
Asuma exhaled slowly, his heart still pounding from the impossible battle unfolding before him. He watched, horrified yet transfixed, as the black-scaled dragon reared back, its chest glowing with molten heat, and unleashed a torrent of fire that consumed both combatants.
The blaze was fierce, roaring like an inferno, and even from this distance, Asuma could feel its blistering heat. There was no way anyone—shinobi or not—could survive being caught in that. His jaw tightened as his eyes flicked to the floating bronze crib.
A sharp pang struck his chest as he thought of the black-haired boy, so young, so desperate to protect the infant. And now, just like that, he was gone.
Another casualty in this cruel world.
Damn it.
But as the flames died down, what he saw next made his jaw drop.
The old man was nothing but ash. Reduced to dust by the dragon's fire. Good riddance.
The boy? Unburnt.
Thick steam rolled off his weakened frame as he staggered towards them, the sphere with the baby in it gliding his way. Asuma could feel a pulse of energy and the crib opened, revealing the baby inside.
"What the hell…" Asuma muttered, unable to believe his own eyes. "Who the hell are you!" But the boy had already collapsed to the ground.
Before he could react, Prince Shinji darted forward. "Wait! My Prince, no!" Tanaka barked, but the boy was already moving.
Shinji skidded to a halt a few feet from the unconscious teen, only for the dragon to snap its head around. The beast let out a deep, guttural roar, so loud that the air trembled with its force.
The prince yelped, scrambling backward as the massive beast's eyes blazed with warning.
Immediately, Asuma and the guards moved into a protective formation, positioning themselves between the dragon and their charge. Even Tanaka, who moments before had argued against interference, drew his blade, his face grim.
But the dragon… it didn't attack.
Instead, it lowered its head and nudged the black-haired boy's limp body gently with its snout. An almost relieved rumble echoed from its throat.
"It's… protecting him?" Saito murmured in disbelief.
Asuma's sharp eyes scanned the beast, noting the large leather saddle strapped securely along its back. His mind raced. Dragons were supposed to be myths, ancient creatures lost to history. But this… this wasn't just some wild beast. It was intelligent. And if the saddle was anything to go by, it belonged to—or served—the boy.
Maybe he found a long-lost summoning contract?
Before he could process further, movement on the far side of the crater snapped his focus back to reality.
The Kiri-nin.
Eight of them and closing in fast. Their intent was clear from the cold, murderous gleam in their eyes. And given the precision of their movements, these weren't ordinary shinobi.
"ANBU-level," Asuma muttered darkly. This was bad. Really bad.
The dragon seemed to sense the incoming threat, lifting its head and snarling. With deliberate care, it nudged the open crib, causing it to float smoothly toward the saddle. With a faint click, the orb locked into place at the front of the saddle, securing the baby.
The dragon's head swung back toward them, eyes gleaming with urgency. Then, to their shock, it unleashed another stream of white-hot flame, forcing the Kiri-nin to scatter like insects.
"Did it just cover us?" Saito gaped, bewildered.
The beast crouched lower, extending one massive wing to the ground like a ramp. It glanced pointedly between the group and the saddle.
"You've gotta be kidding me," Tanaka snapped. "There's no way in hell we're getting on an unknown summon!"
Asuma grit his teeth. "We can't hold off eight ANBU-level shinobi and get the prince out alive. That thing's our only way out."
"It could kill us the second we're in the air," Tanaka hissed.
"Or we could die right here," Asuma shot back, jerking his head toward the advancing Kiri-nin. "Make a choice."
The dragon nudged the unconscious teen toward them, then tilted its head toward the saddle again, almost like it was offering them a way out.
"It wants us to get on," Asuma said, heart pounding.
Tanaka scoffed, his face pale. "What if the Prince gets hurt?"
"We can't hold off eight Kiri ANBU alone," Asuma growled, pointing toward the other side of the crater where the enemy was already regathering themselves. "We either take this chance or die here."
Shinji finally had enough and cut them off, "I agree with Asuma, if we stay here, we will probably die."
Asuma didn't wait for further argument. Moving swiftly, he lifted the unconscious teenager into his arms, noting how cold and fragile the boy felt despite being bathed in dragon fire.
"Guard the prince," he ordered Saito. "Get him on the saddle. Now."
With a reluctant huff, Tanaka followed suit, carefully guiding Shinji onto the dragon's back. Asuma joined them moments later.
The child in the floating crib, still locked in place, giggled softly, reaching a tiny hand toward the teen.
"Yeah, kid," Asuma muttered. "Your dad's pretty badass."
The dragon shifted beneath them, wings stretching wide. With a powerful thrust, they were airborne, rising high above the battlefield as fire erupted below them.
The Kiri-nin's attacks barely scratched the dragon's scales. Nox let out a victorious roar, unleashing a final wave of blistering flame that sent their enemies scattering.
As they soared into the sky, the wind rushing against his face, Asuma allowed himself a brief moment to exhale.
What the hell had they just gotten themselves into?
Neither group noticed a bird made of fire swoop down to the battlefield to collect something, before flying after the dragon, following at a distance.
~
This is insane, Asuma thought to himself, gripping the leather handles on the dragon's saddle as the beast performed another dizzying dip through the air.
Shinji, seated behind him, let out a delighted laugh, his earlier fear vanishing as he clung to Saito's waist. "Again!" he shouted, earning another squeal of excitement from the baby nestled safely in the crib.
"This is not a game, my Prince," Tanaka groaned from the rear, his face pale and sickly. "We are riding on the back of a giant, fire-breathing myth! Focus on the situation at hand!"
Saito, meanwhile, looked like he might pass out at any moment. The young guard had gone rigid, his knuckles white where he clutched the saddle's sides for dear life. "I'm going to die," he muttered under his breath. "I'm going to die on the back of a dragon, and I didn't even get to finish my breakfast."
Asuma snorted at their antics but kept his gaze on the horizon. He needed to figure out how to guide this thing back to the Fire Capital before they ended up circling the country.
He cleared his throat, leaning forward slightly toward the massive black dragon's head. "Hey, uh… big guy," he said cautiously. "Can you take us to the Fire Capital? Big city, fancy palace."
The dragon turned its head slightly, one brilliant golden eye locking onto him with what could only be described as confusion. It gave a questioning rumble that reverberated through the saddle and down his spine.
"Okay… So, no fluent speech. Noted," Asuma muttered. "Definitely not a normal summon."
"Maybe it only understands the language those two were speaking," Tanaka suggested weakly, keeping one hand on his sword despite his nausea.
Asuma sighed, frustrated. He glanced down at the unconscious black-haired teen still cradled in his arms, his face too pale for comfort. "Great. We have a dragon, a teen who might be dying, and a baby in a magical floating ball. What else could go wrong?"
His eyes caught something tucked under the teen's arm, a length of finely crafted leather reins looped around a raised nub at the front of the saddle. "Huh…" Carefully shifting the boy's weight, Asuma freed one hand to unwind the reins and gave them a light tug.
The dragon snorted, its wings twitching in annoyance.
"Come on, big guy. Work with me here," Asuma coaxed, giving another gentle tug in the direction of the Fire Capital.
To his surprise the dragon responded, angling its body smoothly toward the distant city. It let out an indignant huff as if to say it allowed him to steer, but at least they were making progress.
"Would you look at that," Asuma murmured, half to himself. "Guess even dragons can be tamed."
The rest of the journey passed in tense silence, the wind whipping against their faces. Asuma couldn't help but marvel at the sheer speed of the beast. It cut through the air like nothing he'd ever experienced, within thirty minutes, the towering walls of the Fire Capital loomed into view.
Saito exhaled in relief. "I can't believe how fast this thing is. We'd still be days away on foot."
"Be thankful it's on our side," Tanaka grumbled. "I still don't trust it."
Neither do I, Asuma thought grimly, tightening his grip on the unconscious teen.
Landing the dragon in the palace gardens was easier said than done. As soon as its enormous black wings cast a shadow over the grounds, the palace guards swarmed out with their weapons drawn.
"Hold your fire!" Asuma barked as the dragon made a surprisingly graceful landing, its claws digging into the earth. "Stand down!"
The guards hesitated, but the sight of a dragon, and the flames curling in its throat, kept their spears raised.
The beast shifted its massive form, clearly agitated. Its eyes trying to find the boy in Asuma's arms, a soft croon of distress vibrating through its chest.
From the back of the saddle, Shinji popped his head up, still flushed with excitement. "Stand down!" he commanded, his voice surprisingly firm for a thirteen-year-old. "Lower your weapons and summon the court physician immediately!"
The guards obeyed, though their hands lingered nervously on their swords.
Saito scrambled to help the prince dismount, the young heir bowing his head slightly toward the dragon in gratitude. To Asuma's amazement, the beast seemed to preen under the attention, puffing out its chest proudly.
"Unbelievable," he muttered.
Asuma carefully shifted the unconscious teen into Tanaka's arms. "Take him inside. He needs help. Fast!"
Tanaka grumbled under his breath but accepted the burden, moving swiftly toward the palace's entrance where a team of medics was already gathering.
When Asuma reached out to retrieve the baby, his hand hit something solid, a shimmering golden barrier.
"What the hell…?" he murmured, running his fingers against it. It felt strong, heavy, and far too complex for any seal work he'd ever seen.
The baby giggled at the golden light, reaching out with pudgy fingers to try and grab at the sparkling barrier.
"I think… it's a protection seal," Saito said quietly, watching in fascination.
Asuma's brows furrowed in concern. "Protection from who?"
He tried again, this time allowing his chakra to flow through his touch. The barrier shimmered, vibrating around his hand as if weighing his intentions. Finally, it parted enough for him to gently lift the infant free.
The baby let out a happy squeal and immediately curled his tiny fists into Asuma's beard.
"Okay, little guy, easy on the beard," Asuma muttered, adjusting his hold. He felt the child's warmth against his chest, he was feeling odd. Protective.
A distressed rumble pulled his attention back to the dragon.
The beast was trying to follow them, hunching low in an attempt to squeeze through the archways, causing the stone to creak ominously under its weight.
"Hey, hey, big guy, stay put!" Asuma called out, waving his free hand. "You'll tear the palace apart!"
The dragon gave a mournful cry, its massive eyes tracking the unconscious teen as he disappeared into the palace depths.
"Great," Tanaka grunted as he reappeared, his expression sour. "Now what do we do with that?" He jabbed a thumb toward the anxious dragon.
Asuma sighed. "No clue. But whoever this kid is… he's important to it."
The beast lowered its head suddenly and sniffed at the baby in Asuma's arms, letting out a warm huff of air. The infant, fearless, giggled again before pressing his tiny hands against its snout in a clumsy hug.
For the first time since their arrival, the dragon let out a soft, almost purring sound of contentment.
"I don't think it's going anywhere," Saito observed dryly.
"Yeah…" Asuma glanced toward the palace, where the mysterious black-haired boy was being treated. "And something tells me our lives just got a lot more complicated."
From outside the palace walls, the dragon's mournful cries echoed throughout the night.
~ Asuma's POV End~
A groan slipped from Harry's lips as consciousness crept back in. His entire body ached, feeling as though he'd been trampled by a herd of hippogriffs. There was a soft surface beneath him, plush, warm. With a sluggish blink, he pried his eyes open, wincing at the golden light streaming through the large windows.
His breath caught as he took in his surroundings. The room was opulent, luxurious. Golden silk curtains framed the tall arched windows, soft breeze stirring their shimmering fabric. Intricate wood carvings decorated the walls, and the bed he lay on felt like it had been plucked from a royal palace.
For a moment, he thought he might still be dreaming. But no dream could explain the energy, a foreign pulse dancing across his skin, humming against his barely there magic like a curious breeze. It wasn't the familiar warmth of his core or the weight of the ambient magic in the air. This was different. It tugged, playful yet ancient, brushing against his depleted reserves and making his skin prickle.
His head throbbed as he pressed his palm against his forehead, struggling to remember what had happened. His memory was a fragmented mess. But then, like a dam breaking, it all came flooding back.
The ritual. Luna's voice pleading. The swirling storm of magic. Dumbledore pushing past the circle.
His breath hitched, heart hammering against his ribs.
Someone had grabbed his hand, and with all the magic making his head spin during the ritual, he thought it was Luna. But in the chaos, he hadn't realised until it was too late…
A strangled sob escaped his lips as the weight of that realisation crushed him. "No… no, no, no…" he whispered, his hands trembling.
They had one chance. One chance. And he had failed.
His sister, his sweet, brave Luna, was still there. Trapped in a world that was killing her.
Tears welled in his eyes, falling hot and fast down his cheeks. "I was supposed to save you," he choked out. His shoulders shook as the loss tore through him, raw and unrelenting. "I promised… I promised."
He didn't know how long he lay there, drowning in grief. The foreign energy continued to swirl around him, as if curious about his tears. But he couldn't focus on anything beyond the ache in his heart.
Until panic crashed into him like a tidal wave.
"Teddy."
His stomach dropped. Where was Teddy?Harry's heart pounded wildly as he tried to push himself up. His body rebelled, weak, shaky limbs giving out as he tumbled off the bed. The impact jarred his already aching frame, but he barely noticed. His only thought was for his son.
A startled voice broke the silence.
"What are you doing?!"
Thin arms struggled to catch him before he could hit the floor again. Harry blinked up through his tears, vision swimming as he tried to focus. It was the young teen from the battlefield, the one who was with the three men.
The boy was speaking rapidly in a language Harry couldn't fully place. It sounded like… Japanese?
I think Ignotus and I overlooked something important, he thought, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.
"You shouldn't be moving! Stay still!"
"I—" Harry rasped, his throat raw. "Where's… where's my baby? Where's Teddy?"
The boy tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing as he babbled on, clearly not understanding him.
Harry swallowed thickly and tried again. "Baby. Where's my baby?"
The confused expression didn't waver. Harry's frustration grew as his exhaustion and panic tangled together. Desperation pushed him to try different languages.
"Enfant? Bebé? Παιδί?" He cycled through French, Greek, German. Hell, he even tried Latin.
Nothing worked.
The teen exchanged a glance with the two men standing near the door, both of whom had been silent up until now. One was the broad-shouldered man with a beard and a cigarette tucked behind his ear. The other was older, his lined face etched with suspicion. They both stood tensely, watching him carefully.
Harry exhaled shakily. Okay, think. Words weren't working.
With trembling hands, he rocked his arms as if cradling a baby.
The three figures blinked at him in unison. The younger teen's eyes suddenly widened in realisation. "Aahh!"
He spun on his heel and dashed out of the room before Harry could react.
Moments later, the boy returned, carefully pushing the floating crib.
A broken sound escaped Harry's throat as he stretched his arms out, wordlessly begging to hold his son. The moment Teddy was lifted out and placed into his arms, Harry clutched him tightly, his entire body trembling with relief.
"Teddy," he whispered, pressing his lips against the boy's soft curls. "Oh, thank Merlin, you're okay…"
Teddy cooed happily, his tiny hands grabbing at Harry's robes. His hair flashed bright blue—a burst of magic that made the others in the room jump back in alarm.
"What?!" the older man exclaimed, eyes wide as saucers.
The younger boy gawked openly, mouth hanging open. "The baby's hair…turned blue?!"
Harry barely registered their shock. He only held Teddy closer, checking every inch of him to ensure he wasn't hurt.
"You're okay," he murmured again, tears of relief slipping down his cheeks.
When his panic finally began to ease, Harry realised the three strangers were still watching him. Right. Communication.
Carefully shifting Teddy in his arms, Harry straightened up and inclined his head slightly in what he hoped was a respectful bow.
"I'm…" he began, then paused, deciding not to offer his full title. "Harrison."
The boy's eyes sparkled with curiosity as he pointed to himself. "Shinji."
Harry repeated the name slowly. "Shinji…"
A bright smile spread across the boy's face, and he nodded enthusiastically.
Encouraged, Harry turned to the taller man.
The bearded man smirked faintly, giving a slow nod. "Asuma Sarutobi."
"And you?" Harry asked the older, sterner man.
Tanaka scowled but relented with a grunt. "Tanaka."
"Shinji, Asuma, Tanaka," Harry repeated carefully, committing the names to memory.
The tension in the room eased just slightly, as they settled into this odd game of introductions.
Despite the language barrier, Harry knew one thing for certain: he wasn't in his world anymore.
~
He shifted on the soft bed, carefully adjusting Teddy as the baby gurgled happily on his stomach. The little wolf kicked his legs in excitement trying to shift onto his knees, eyes wide as he took in the new surroundings. Harry smiled faintly despite the pounding ache in his head and heart. Teddy's cheerful giggle was the only thing keeping him grounded.
The lavish quarters felt foreign, too grand and unfamiliar to be comforting, but the warm food that the servants quietly brought in was a welcome distraction. The air was thick with the scent of rice, grilled fish, and something savoury that made Harry's stomach twist with sudden hunger.
A soft knock at the door drew his attention. The broad-shouldered man—Asuma, right?—entered, holding a scroll in one hand and an unlit cigarette tucked between his fingers. He gave Harry a considering look before stepping closer to the low table. With a heavy sigh, he spread the scroll open, revealing what could only be a map.
Harry leaned forward eagerly, his heart quickening. The map was different. The borders and landmarks weren't exactly what he knew, but there were similarities, shapes and coastlines reminiscent of Ignotus' maps from the Keep.
They had made it.
He wasn't stranded in some random dimension. This was the right world, the right realm. The ritual, despite its catastrophic deviation, had worked. But his relief was short-lived. They had made it here, but Luna…
His chest ached at the thought of his sister, trapped, alone, with no way for him to reach her. His fingers twitched toward the trunk on his wrist.
He needed to expand it, needed to grab the enchanted mirror and see if it would still connect to the other side. But he couldn't risk it. Not in front of these people who clearly had no understanding of magic.
Teddy let out a happy squeal, tugging on Harry's sleeve. Harry ran a gentle hand through his soft hair, its colour flickering briefly between blue and his usual black.
The way the others had reacted to Teddy's changing hair made it clear they weren't used to magic, or at least not his kind. And if Teddy's harmless trick shocked them, Harry didn't want to imagine how they reacted to Nox.
He needed to find her.
Miming had been working well enough so far. He shifted on the bed, carefully balancing Teddy as he extended his arms and flapped them like wings. "Dragon," he said clearly, then mimed breathing fire with an exaggerated puff.
Shinji, the young prince, blinked at him in confusion before his face lit up in understanding. "Ryū! Dragon!" He said excitedly, flapping his own arms.
Harry gave a slow nod. "Yes—dragon. Where?"
Shinji scrunched his nose in thought before pointing toward the large window. He mimed eating—raising his hand to his mouth in an exaggerated bite—then rested his head against his palms. "Eating… sleeping," he said softly. Miming the words across to Harry.
Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Through their bond, he could still feel Nox but the confirmation eased the tension in his chest. At least she wasn't being attacked or restrained.
"Thank you," Harry said quietly, giving Shinji a small nod of appreciation. He wasn't sure if they understood the words, but the boy brightened and mimicked the nod, clearly recognising the gesture.
Asuma, who had been observing silently, gave a thoughtful hum. "Your dragon is amazing."
Harry tilted his head, unable to understand the words but catching the reverence in Asuma's tone. The older man seemed less suspicious now, more curious than anything else.
Shinji, ever eager, plopped himself cross-legged near the bed, eyeing Teddy with open fascination. "Why does the baby's hair change?"
Harry caught the gesture toward Teddy's hair but not the question itself. He ruffled Teddy's soft curls gently. "Magic," he answered softly, unsure how else to explain it.
"Maji…ku?" Shinji parroted curiously, testing the foreign word on his tongue.
Harry chuckled softly at the boy's earnestness. "Yeah. Magic."
Teddy, as if on cue, let out a delighted laugh, his hair flashing a bright shade of lavender before settling back into its natural colour. Shinji gasped, eyes wide as saucers. "Amazing!"
Even Asuma's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise, though he quickly schooled his expression back into calm indifference. Tanaka, who had been lingering near the doorway with his usual scowl, grunted disapprovingly but didn't speak.
Harry turned his attention back to the map, trailing his fingers along its edges. He couldn't read the unfamiliar script, but he could make out enough of the terrain to confirm that they were, in fact, in the brother's old world.
His stomach gave a low, rumbling growl, and he flushed in embarrassment as Shinji giggled. One of the servants, an older woman with a kind face, stepped forward and knelt to place a tray of food beside him. Harry murmured a quiet thanks as he picked up a bowl of warm rice, the familiar texture grounding him as he ate.
Teddy, meanwhile, was content on the bed, chewing on one of his soft magical toys that was kept in his crib.
Asuma finally broke the silence. "Where did you come from?"
Harry blinked, frowning at the unfamiliar words. Seeing his confusion, Asuma gestured to the window, then to the ground, and finally spread his hands in a questioning motion.
Ah. Where did you come from?
Harry exhaled slowly and touched his chest. "Home," he said quietly. "Far away."
That seemed to satisfy Asuma for the moment, though the sharp glint in his eyes told Harry that the man wasn't done asking questions.
Shinji, however, seemed more interested in Harry himself. The boy leaned forward eagerly. "Harrison… Lordo?" he asked, pointing toward Harry's rings.
Harry chuckled softly. "Yes, I suppose I still am," he said, tapping each ring in turn. "Just Harry, though."
"Harii!" Shinji beamed, clearly proud of himself for getting the name right.
Harry smiled faintly. Despite the language barrier, these strangers didn't seem hostile, they seemed curious. Maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.
~
Nightfall cast long shadows across the lavish chamber as Harry carefully laid Teddy in the middle of the large bed. His son stirred slightly but didn't wake, snuggling into the warm blankets.
Finally, they were alone.
Harry exhaled, rolling his shoulders back as he focused his magic outward. The sensation was sluggish and heavy, like wading through mud, but he pushed past the ache in his core. His magic stretched beyond the room, brushing against the surrounding space, and he froze when it hit two distinct presences stationed right outside the door.
Guards.
"So, they're either protecting us or keeping us prisoner," he muttered under his breath, not liking either option. He flexed his fingers and cast a soft Muffliato, wincing at the strain it placed on his still-weakened reserves. His magic trembled beneath the effort, but the charm held.
Moving quickly, he slipped his bracelet from his wrist and tapped it with his finger, whispering the expansion charm. With a faint shimmer, the shrunken trunk expanded to its full size beside the bed.
He sighed in relief as the familiar, worn wood greeted him. Grimbok had enchanted it with every protection known to goblin kind, even dragon fire couldn't touch it, thankfully.Harry didn't waste time. He flipped open the trunk and rummaged through the top layer until his fingers closed around cold, polished glass. The enchanted mirror.
"Luna," he breathed urgently, raising the mirror to his face. "Luna, please answer me."
The smooth surface rippled, but no image appeared.
"Luna!" His voice cracked with desperation as his grip tightened. "Please, answer me. I'm so sorry. I should've—should've grabbed your hand—"
Silence.
His stomach twisted painfully, but he shook himself. He tried the next person he trusted to answer.
"Grimbok," he said firmly, his throat tight. "Grimbok, answer me!"
The mirror flared to life with a sharp glow, and a familiar, sharp-featured face appeared. The goblin's eyes widened in shock.
"Harry!" Grimbok's voice boomed through the glass. "By the stones, you're alive!"
A rush of relief flooded Harry's chest. "I'm here, I'm safe," he said quickly, breath hitching. "But Luna. Please, tell me you've found her. Please—"
"Hold a moment!" Grimbok barked, turning his head. "Fetch the others, quickly!"
Harry clutched the mirror tightly, heart pounding as muffled voices echoed on the other side. Within moments, familiar faces crowded into view—Neville, Theo, Blaise, and Tazgira.
"Harry!" Neville's voice was thick with emotion. "You're—thank Merlin, you're okay! We thought—"
"Is Luna safe?" Harry cut in, raw urgency cracking through his composure. "Did you find her?"
Neville's face softened with relief. "We have her," he said, and Harry nearly collapsed under the weight of his fear lifting. "When we went to clean up the ritual site, we found her kneeling in the centre, hand outstretched mumbling to herself. She was hysterical when we tried to move her. We had to stun her just to get her back."
Harry choked on a sob, biting his knuckles to muffle the sound. "Thank Merlin," he whispered, tears burning his eyes. "I—I thought I lost her."
"What happened?" Theo asked, his normally smooth voice strained. "Why didn't you both go through?"
Harry let out a shaky breath and began to explain. "Dumbledore." The name dripped from his lips like poison. "He interfered. He broke the circle, forced his way into the magic. I was rooted, I couldn't move. I couldn't stop the ritual without killing us all. All the magic was making my mind a bit hazy, I thought Luna grabbed my hand, but it was him."
A tense silence fell over the group.
"So, you killed him, right?" Blaise said, a wicked gleam in his dark eyes.
Harry gave a sharp nod, jaw clenching. "I opened the Keep gateway and summoned Nox. She burned him alive."
A low, malicious chuckle escaped Blaise. "Poetic," he mused, leaning back. "The old bastard was doomed by his own prophecy in the end."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, brow furrowing.
"Remember the last lines?" Theo said, voice quiet and thoughtful. "'And the fury shall burn everything in its path.'"
Harry blinked, realisation dawning. "And Nox, she was named the Black Fury after the battle."
Blaise smirked. "Turned his precious throne to ash. Fitting end, if you ask me."
The weight of their words settled in Harry's chest, a grim, heavy satisfaction.
"But Luna—" his voice cracked, guilt gnawing at him. "This was supposed to be her chance. Her life. I failed her."
Grimbok's expression softened, a rare sight. "It's not your fault," the goblin said firmly, "we will find another way to send her to you."
Tazgira's features softened with sympathy. "She's strong, Harry," she said quietly. "We'll give her time to recover, but if anyone can survive this, it's Luna."
Harry wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. He had no choice but to believe them. To trust them.
"We'll find a way," Neville promised, his voice steady with conviction. "We're not giving up on her, mate."
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "Thank you," he whispered.
"When she wakes, we'll call you immediately," Grimbok said. "But what about you? Are you safe?"
Harry hesitated. "I don't know," he admitted. "I'm not sure what kind of people these are. I think the young teen, Shinji, is some kind of lord. The older men defer to him, but they're also… watching me. Guarding him, maybe."
Theo hummed thoughtfully. "You're right to be cautious. A thousand years is a long time, things must have changed."
"And you're not at your best," Tazgira added softly. "Don't push yourself too hard."
Harry exhaled slowly, nodding. "I won't. I need to get my strength back, and protect Teddy."
"Good," Grimbok said firmly. "We'll hold things down on our end. Focus on surviving and observing. Call us if anything changes."
"I will." Harry hesitated, staring at their familiar faces, his family. "Thank you. All of you."
"You're ours, Harry," Neville said softly. "We protect our own."
Harry gave them one last, grateful smile before the mirror's surface dimmed to black.
For a long moment, he sat there in the silence, listening to Teddy's soft breaths and the faint stirrings of the night.
They would find a way.
They had to.
What Harry didn't realise, was that less than a century had passed since the three brothers had left this world.
~
Harry stirred from his light doze as Teddy babbled quietly beside him, his tiny fists waving in the air. He smiled softly, brushing a lock of dark blue hair from his godson's forehead. At least one of them seemed content with their strange new reality.
The door slid open with a soft shhhk, revealing Shinji, Asuma, and Tanaka standing on the threshold. The prince offered a bright smile, his excitement clear as he bounced forward, waving energetically.
"Good morning!"
Harry tilted his head. Good morning, he thought, mentally filing the word away. He gave a cautious smile, bowing his head slightly in return. "Morning."
The familiar game of mimes resumed quickly. Shinji gestured to a bundle of folded clothes in Asuma's hands, and the tall man stepped forward, offering them with an expectant expression.
Harry blinked down at the garments, soft, clean, and neatly folded. It didn't take a genius to figure out what they wanted. Asuma mimed washing himself with exaggerated motions, and Harry bit back a chuckle.
"You want me to bathe?" he confirmed aloud, raising a brow.
"Yes!" Shinji bobbed his head enthusiastically while Tanaka chuckled softly behind him.
Harry hesitated for a moment, feeling the deep ache in his bones as he shifted to sit up properly. With a quiet sigh, he nodded. "Alright… probably overdue anyway."
He shifted to stand, but his legs trembled beneath him. Before he could fall, a strong arm slid around his waist, steadying him.
Harry startled slightly at the contact, looking up to find Asuma watching him with calm concern. The warmth of his hand lingered against Harry's waist, sending an unexpected jolt through his system.
"Thanks," Harry muttered, glancing away, suddenly aware of how close the man was.
Asuma said nothing, simply adjusting his grip to help him stand properly. Harry couldn't help but notice how solid he felt, all lean muscle and broad shoulders. And then there was Tanaka, trailing behind them, his long hair tied back neatly, his graceful movements exuding an understated strength.
Great. I'm surrounded by handsome men, Harry thought dryly, shaking his head.
They led him through the winding palace hallways, passing servants who bowed low as Shinji marched ahead. Harry took in the intricate woodwork and delicate paper-panelled doors, marvelling at the craftsmanship. Everything was so elegant, yet foreign.
Eventually, they reached a large building attached to the palace grounds. When they slid open the doors, Harry's breath caught slightly.
It was nothing like the Hogwarts prefect's bath. This was grander, more natural. Steam rose from a massive pool of crystal-clear water, surrounded by polished stone and open-air views of a tranquil garden. Several smaller pools branched off the main one, and the soft scent of cedar and minerals filled the air.
Harry swallowed thickly. The thought of stripping down in front of these strangers, being that vulnerable, made his stomach twist. But then, his gaze drifted to Teddy, who babbled happily in Tanaka's arms, grabbing at the man's hair. His little face was smudged with remnants of breakfast.
He needs a bath, Harry told himself, straightening his shoulders. Man up.
Shinji cheerfully began shedding his robes, utterly shameless as he stepped out of them. Tanaka followed suit with a graceful efficiency that only seemed to highlight the defined lines of his body. Asuma, more deliberate in his movements, pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a broad chest and a collection of faint scars.
Harry had seen his fair share of attractive people in his life, Blaise and Theo weren't exactly eyesores, but this was getting ridiculous.
With a steadying breath, Harry began peeling off his basilisk hide outfit, placing each piece carefully to the side. He slipped out of the enchanted underlayer, goosebumps rising on his skin as the cool air touched his bare chest.
He caught Asuma's gaze lingering on the jagged lightning scars that traced across his chest and ribs, the marks Altair's magic had left when it dragged him back from the brink of death.
Asuma stepped closer, hand half-raised toward the crystal pendant resting against Harry's collarbone. Instinctively, Harry took a sharp step back, tension snapping through his muscles.
The man froze, realising his mistake, and quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Sorry," he murmured softly, his voice soothing.
Harry let out a breath, guilt tugging at his chest for reacting so harshly. Asuma wasn't threatening him, he was curious.
The man pointed at the pendant again, his brows furrowed in thought. "Senju?"
Senju.
The Peverell family tree flashed through his mind...Cadmus' wife? She had been a Senju. Could this mean…?
Carefully, Harry raised a hand and traced a line in the air, miming a family tree with branching fingers. "Peverell… Senju," he said slowly, pointing between himself and the pendant.
Understanding flickered in Asuma's dark eyes, but there was confusion too. Harry sighed, shaking his head as the reality sank in. Cadmus had married into the Senju clan, but their line had ended with his third great grandson.
And after a thousand years… how could anyone still be alive?
Asuma's gaze lingered on him, lips slightly parted as if turning over some private realisation. But whatever conclusion he reached, he kept it to himself, and the rest of the bath descended into a slightly awkward quiet.
Harry waded carefully into the water, the heat instantly easing his aching limbs. Tanaka settled nearby, gently lowering Teddy into a smaller basin. The baby squealed in delight, splashing water everywhere with his tiny hands. Making the grumpy man smile slightly.
"Yes!" Shinji laughed, clapping as Teddy's hair flashed from dark blue to vivid pink.
Harry shook his head fondly, watching as Teddy grinned toothlessly up at his audience. "You little show-off," he murmured, reaching over to wash his godson's tiny hands.
Asuma, still watching him closely, let out a quiet chuckle as Teddy grabbed one of his fingers with impressive strength.
Asuma and Tanaka, meanwhile, shifted to speaking quietly with each other in rapid Japanese, their voices echoing softly against the stone.
~
The walk from the bathhouse back through the palace grounds left Harry feeling both refreshed and drained. The heat from the water had eased some of the ache from his magic-depleted body, but the exhaustion lingered beneath his skin. Still, there was no way he could rest, not yet.
With Teddy comfortably nestled in the floating crib, Harry turned to Shinji, Asuma, and Tanaka. He raised his hand and mimed wings, letting his fingers flap clumsily before pointing outside.
Shinji's eyes lit up in instant understanding. "Dragon?"
Harry smiled despite himself. At least that word was easy. "Yeah, dragon."
Asuma glanced at Tanaka, and with a curt nod, the two men took the lead, guiding them through the maze of corridors and out into the sprawling palace gardens. Despite his physical exhaustion, Harry felt a spark of excitement growing in his chest. He could feel her presence, like a warm embers through their bond.
The closer they got, the stronger the connection became. Harry's heartbeat quickened when they approached an open courtyard surrounded by stone walls, where a deep, rumbling huff echoed through the air. His eyes landed on a massive, gleaming black form curled in the sun.
"Nox!"
The great dragon's head snapped up immediately. Brilliant golden eyes locked on Harry, and she let out a thunderous croon of recognition. Before anyone could react, the massive creature surged forward with surprising grace, wings folding against her back as she lowered her head to him.
Harry's heart twisted painfully in his chest. Without a second thought, he closed the distance, wrapping his arms around her snout as best as he could. "You're okay," he whispered shakily, feeling the warmth of her scales under his hands. "I'm so glad you're okay."
Nox released another soft rumble, before nuzzling against him, her breath ruffling his still-damp hair. "Mother…"
Behind him, the sound of jaws hitting the floor was almost comical. The others stood rooted in place, their expressions a mix of awe and disbelief as Harry casually embraced the enormous dragon.
Harry laughed softly, pressing his forehead against Nox's snout. "You really saved me back there, Nox. If you hadn't come when you did…" His throat tightened, memories of Dumbledore's interference crashing over him. "Thank you. For everything."
Nox let out a satisfied huff, the air warm against his cheek. "Of course I did, Mother," she said through their bond, her voice deep and rich with affection. "Though your call was sudden. The others wanted to come but I didn't let them."
Harry chuckled under his breath, feeling some of the weight on his chest ease. "Sorry. It was… kind of an emergency."
The dragon shifted slightly, letting her eyes sweep over him. "You're still weak. You shouldn't be up and about so soon."
"You sound like Luna," Harry muttered.
"She's smart," Nox quipped back. Then, her tone grew more serious. "Take this off me," she said, nudging her side where the saddle still clung to her huge form. "Tilly spelled it on before I left. It's uncomfortable."
"Alright, alright." Harry snorted, shaking his head. He raised his hand automatically, only to grimace when his magic sputtered inside him. Right. No magic.
He turned to Asuma and Tanaka, who were still openly staring at the sight of him casually conversing with a dragon. "Uh… help?" He gestured toward the saddle and pantomimed lifting it off.
Tanaka moved forward and carefully grasped one side of the heavy leather, muscles flexing beneath his robe as he lifted. Harry grabbed the other side while Asuma took the back, and together they eased the saddle off Nox's broad back.
The dragon stretched luxuriously once freed, her wings flaring out in a cascade of shadowy black. "Ah, that's better," she sighed, arching her long neck like a giant cat before turning her gaze back to Harry.
"You know," she mused, "I think these two-legs are worshiping me."
Harry blinked in confusion. "...What?"
Nox tilted her head toward the far corner of the courtyard. Sure enough, tucked along the stone walls was a collection of carefully arranged offerings. Beautifully painted bowls filled with fresh fruit, slabs of roasted meat, and delicate trinkets glittering in the sunlight.
"They leave these every day," Nox said smugly. "Clearly, they recognise my magnificence."
Harry burst out laughing, bending over slightly with the force of it. "You—" He struggled to catch his breath. "You think they've made you their god?"
"Obviously," Nox said, flicking her tail. "It's only natural for them to acknowledge greatness. I have been nothing but benevolent, after all."
"Benevolent," Harry repeated, still chuckling. "If only your 'loyal worshipers' knew you'd roll over for a belly rub."
Nox snorted, eyes glinting with humour. "Don't you dare ruin my divine reputation."
At that, Harry laughed harder, the sound lightening the tension that had weighed on him since waking up in this strange world.
While Harry recovered, Nox stretched out her massive frame and turned her attention to the floating crib. She lowered her snout carefully, giving the enchanted crib a soft nudge. Teddy giggled, tiny fingers reaching out to grab one of her horns.
"My smallest brother," Nox said warmly. "You're growing quickly, little terror."
Harry shook his head, watching the unlikely pair with a fond smile. "He missed you," he murmured, leaning a bit against Asuma as exhaustion crept back into his limbs.
Asuma, to his credit, said nothing about the unintentional touch, though Harry could feel the warmth of his presence steady beside him.
Shinji, who had been remarkably quiet throughout the interaction, suddenly exploded into rapid-fire speech. "Amazing! Is this dragon yours? Are there more?"Harry blinked at the barrage of words, catching only the word dragon. "Uh… sure?"
Tanaka chuckled softly, shaking his head. "He doesn't understand my prince," he murmured to Shinji.
Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I really need to figure out how to speak their language," he muttered.
"Or you could just let me handle it," Nox said, preening slightly. "I'm a goddess now, after all."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't let it go to your head."
Too late.
~
The next couple of days passed in a strange, quiet rhythm.
Harry had tried calling for Tilly several times, but the little elf never popped into existence beside him.
He knew house elf magic was powerful, but crossing dimensions without an anchor? That was a stretch even for her. If he could open a brief gateway to the Keep while calling her, he thought it might work. Or, maybe, once he found a permanent, safe place to anchor the portal, she would be able to find him.
Still, worry gnawed at him.
He could feel his dragons through their bond, soft impressions of curiosity and concern drifting to him like threads across an unseen bridge. They would be fine, that much he could knew, but Altair... Harry's heart twisted at the thought of his sweetest child fretting without answers. He sent soothing impressions back, a quiet promise: I'm safe. I'll come back.
But every night, when the palace grew quiet, the guilt pressed down heavier.
The mirror had become his lifeline.
Each night, hidden beneath a hastily cast silencing charm, he spoke with his friends. Luna still hadn't woken up. Tazgira insisted on giving her more time, but the anxiety in her voice made Harry's stomach churn. He had dragged her into this, this was supposed to be her second chance at life, and now? Now she was trapped in her own mind.
And it was his fault.
During the day, he tried not to let his worry show. Teddy needed him to be strong, after all. And the people around him… they were watching. Always watching.
Shinji, Asuma, and Tanaka had given him a thorough tour of the sprawling palace on the third day, and the more Harry saw, the more certain he became. Shinji had to be some kind of prince. The ornate architecture, the deference shown to him by others, the sheer number of guards stationed throughout the grounds… if this wasn't a royal palace, Harry didn't know what was.
Still, Shinji and his guards seemed to keep most people away from him. Harry wasn't sure if they were protecting him or keeping him prisoner. Maybe both.
That day, Harry also finally witnessed what passed for magic in this world.
It had started innocuously enough, Shinji chattering to Asuma while Harry bounced Teddy gently in his floating crib. The baby's hair, black as ink, curled slightly at the edges as he babbled softly to himself. But Harry's attention sharpened when Asuma pulled out a scroll.
The moment the man channelled some sort of energy into it, Harry felt it. Something warm and electric, curling in the air.
It wasn't magic, not exactly, but it was close. A puff of smoke burst from the scroll, revealing a stack of ancient papers.
Harry blinked. "Huh… so, you're a shinobi," he murmured, barely loud enough to hear himself. Wasn't that what Ignotus called them?
Intrigued, he started miming again, trying to ask if using his own magic was acceptable. Asuma and Shinji exchanged confused glances while Harry conjured a soft orb of light, letting it float between his fingers.
Tanaka, the most serious of the three, stiffened slightly but when the light didn't do anything dangerous, he relaxed.
"It's… okay?" Tanaka said hesitantly, his brows furrowing as he gave a slight nod.
Harry let out a relieved breath, relaxing his grip on his magic. For days, he'd been holding it tightly within himself, afraid of drawing too much attention. But now? Now, he let it hum softly under his skin. His magic stretched curiously through the air, brushing against the unfamiliar energy around them. It lingered near Asuma the longest, tasting the strange warmth of his chakra before settling back against Harry's core.
When Shinji unrolled the papers from the scroll, Harry realised they were maps.
"Here! Here!" Shinji's voice was bright with excitement as he pointed to one of the maps, then jabbed a finger at himself. "This is where I live!"
Harry tilted his head, frowning as he studied the worn parchment. Assuming Shinji was showing him where he was from.
Shinji grew more animated, pointing to other areas of the map, then back to Harry with an expectant look. "Where are you from?"
"I… don't know how to explain it," Harry muttered, shaking his head. With a sigh, he stood up and gestured for them to follow.
Curiosity danced in Shinji's eyes as he trailed after Harry, Asuma and Tanaka close behind.
At the window, Harry gazed up at the sky. The stars twinkled softly against the velvet darkness, but they weren't his stars. They were familiar enough to be comforting, but the constellations were wrong. No Orion. No Ursa Major.
Lifting a hand, he pointed to himself, then to the stars. "I'm… not from here. I'm from far away."
Behind him, the room went quiet.
Harry missed the stunned looks they exchanged.
"The stars?" Asuma murmured, incredulous.
"Is he saying… he's from the heavens?" Tanaka's voice was low, uncertain.
Shinji, however, looked utterly delighted. His mind raced with possibilities—was Harry a god? An alien? Some celestial being sent to aid their world?
"I knew it!" Shinji grinned widely, his hands balling into fists. "I told you he was special! Why else would he fall from the sky like a star!"
Harry turned back around, confused by the awe in their faces. "What?"
Shinji clapped his hands together, practically vibrating with excitement. "He's from the heavens! That explains everything!"
"I—what?" Harry said, not understanding them but assuming they've misunderstood his miming.
But Shinji wasn't listening. He whirled toward Asuma, eyes gleaming. "He's definitely a celestial! Maybe even a kami! That's why he controls the dragon!"
"I'm from far away!" Harry insisted, exasperated. He pointed to himself again and then to the window. "Just… not from here."
Tanaka, to Harry's surprise, gave a slight smirk. "Perhaps he will bless us with silence."
Harry groaned softly, running a hand through his hair. This was going to be a long day.