Disclaimer: I own nothing but some of the idea for this story, and not much of that. The image cover was taken from google images; if anyone knows who made it please let me know.

Thanks to everyone who gave input last chapter. I've been considering two different directions I would like to see this story go, and I'm pretty positive I've finally decided on one. Oh, and the story title is going to remain as On Blackened Wings.

If anyone is curious, I would put Harry's power at a little bit less than Kael'thas Sunstrider. But that is just for now, he will continue to grow stronger.

Harry's eyebrows rise in surprise at Nefarian's words. "How?"

Blackhand, the leader of the Dark Horde, was one of the better protected people in the Spire.

Nefarian glances over toward the corner of the room, where what appears to be a human man is chained to the floor. Harry is easily able to sense that this man is in fact Vaelastrasz; Harry assumes that Nefarian has somehow managed to restrain the Red Dragon's powers.

"The Life Bringer's son smuggled a Horde team in when he breached our defenses," Nefarian tells Harry.

Harry frowns in thought. "I would have never guessed that, considering the 'could be better' relations the Reds have with the Orcs."

Nefarian remains scowling. "With Blackhand's death, some of the creatures he led have decided to revolt," he says with a sneer. "While the forces in the Upper Spire have stayed true to us, the Lower Spire has not; I want you to show them the repercussions of turning traitor."

That news doesn't really surprise Harry. While Rend Blackhand was a fool who considered his worth much higher than it actually was, he did have a particular talent for keeping the rest of the Dark Horde in line.

"You want me to kill everything in the Lower Spire," Harry questions warily. There are over twenty-five thousand Orcs, Trolls, Ogres, and more living in that section of the mountain. While Harry is confident in his own abilities, he knows he has no chance in hell of taking out that many fighters.

Nefarian snorts. "Nothing quite so drastic, I want you to pop around, like you enjoy doing so much, and take care of the leaders of this revolt. Bring the heads of War Master Voone, Ghok Bashguud, and Highlord Omokk to General Drakkisath and the other traitors should fall in line."

Harry nods his head. "I'll get it done."

"See that you do," Nefarian says as he stalks out of the room. The two previously cowering Orcs trail after him.

"Why do you follow a creature so full of evil as the Son of Deathwing," the dragon in the corner asks after Nefarian leaves. "Why would you assist him in battle against one such as me?"

Harry turns toward Vaelastrasz, who is giving Harry a questioning look. "I don't have much of a choice; I originally intended to pretend to serve him until an opportunity to sneak away presented itself, but I was unpleasantly surprised when he demonstrated his trick of binding people's will to his." Harry gives a grimace. "As for assisting him in his fight against you, the nature of the bond demands that I serve him to the best of my ability. I can assure you that sitting around and watching the fight wouldn't have been the best of my ability."

Vaelastrasz develops a sympathetic expression on his face. "Then you are as much of a prisoner here as I am," he states.

Harry can't help but laugh. "No, unlike you, I'm not in chains." Harry gives a grin. "Honestly, what the bloody hell were you thinking that made attacking Nefarian in his own home seem like a good idea?"

The Red Dragon has a serious look on his face. "Nefarian and the Black Flight have plagued this world for long enough. It is time someone steps in to put a stop to their evil."

"And you thought that someone was you?" Harry gives the Red an amused look. "No offense mate, but look where that got you." Harry gestures around Nefarian's throne room. "Well, dragon, I must be off. You know how it is; I have monsters to slay and other heroic deeds to do." Harry gives the defeated dragon a soldier's salute and apparates away.

Harry reappears at the entrance to the Lower Spire, right next to the imposing form of General Drakkisath, the leader of Nefarian's armies. It wasn't difficult for Harry to hone in and apparate directly to Drakkisath, the towering Dragonspawn's power is so massive that even a blind man would see his presence.

Aside from Nefarian, there have been very few creatures that Harry has encountered that he doesn't believe himself capable of taking on. However, he is positive General Drakkisath could give him a run for his money.

"Har'ri," Drakkisath greets, over the clangs of battle happening just through an opening in the far wall. "Are you here to join the battle? It is always pleasing to see the creative ways you kill your enemies."

"Not as such, I'm afraid." Harry lets out a sigh. "I've been tasked with assassinating the instigators of this rebellion, revolution, or whatever you want to call it and to bring their heads to you."

The general almost smiles. "Then you shall partake in at least one true battle. Ghok Bashguud is leading an assault just ahead in an attempt to escape the Lower Spire."

Harry pops his knuckles and grins. "Then what am I doing standing out here," he says as he stalks across the room and through the opening in the wall.

Harry comes out inside a large cavern; dozens of Dragonspawn and Drakonids are standing guard at the opening. All across the expansive cavern there are over at least a hundred members of the Black Flight fighting back the waves of Orcs, Trolls, and Ogres.

Harry suddenly runs out into the hordes of fighters at a full sprint, enjoying the boost to his speed that his recently inscribed body runes grant him. He leaps up in the air, drawing his new sword as he does, and soars over a pair of Dragonspawn. He lands on the back of an exceptionally large Ogre and, before the beast even realizes what's happening, drives his sword through the Ogre's skull. The Ogre falls forward and hits the ground so hard the ground shakes.

"Not a bad way to test my new sword," Harry says to himself, as he jerks the weapon out of the Ogre's head and places the sword back in its scabbard. He just wishes he had time to add some of his own runes and enchantments to the sword, along with the basic enchants the Dwarves already put on it, before using it in battle.

"Seprensortia," Harry incants, as he notices a group of Orcs charging towards him.

A cobra shoots out of Harry's wand and onto the cold hard ground. An engorgement spell follows it and the snake grows to about thirty feet long.

"Kill anything that is not Dragonkin," Harry harshly commands in Parseltongue, which is something that remained behind even after Voldemort's end.

The now giant cobra doesn't hesitate to strike at the approaching Orcs. The snake's jaws clamp around the middle of one of them and the rest of the Orc's attention is quickly taken away from Harry and transferred to his conjured fighter.

Harry spots Ghok Bashguud standing on a hill on the other side of the cavern and he begins making his way in the Orc's direction. While doing so, he tosses Killing Curses into the mass of Dark Horde members in an effort to get a hit on any not paying attention.

An axe flies past Harry's head and sticks itself into the wall behind him. He turns to find a dark green Troll, with long white tusks, staring him down. Harry just raises an eyebrow at the brute and gives a twitch of his wand, which cause the axe behind him to zip out of the wall and to burrow into the Troll's chest.

Hardly giving the dying Troll a glance, Harry apparates the rest of the way over the cavern and a couple meters behind Ghok. The grey skinned Orc turns toward Harry, his bright red armor clinking as he does so, and gives a hate filled glare.

"If it isn't the Black's pet human," the Orc says with a sneer. "Come to die, have you?"

Harry rolls his eyes. "Yes, I came all the way over here to confront you just so I can die."

Ghok slightly raises his large mace in preparation. "Your attempts at humor do nothing to hide your fear, human." Bashguud lets out a yell and charges Harry.

Harry sends three Bone Breaking Curses toward the angry Orc, but Bashguud smacks the spells out of the way with swings of his obviously heavily enchanted mace. Harry, not wanting to get mowed over by a stampeding Orc, apparates behind Ghok Bashguud and sends a Blasting Curse into Ghok's back. The spell slams into the Orc's armored back; the armor slightly glows on the impact of the curse and reduces the effectiveness of the magic so much that the metal is barely dented.

Harry scowls at the foolishly grinning Orc and launches a Cruico straight into Ghok's unprotected face. The beast lets out a scream of pain so loud that the rest of the fighting in the cavern stops as its participants seek out the source of the pained sound.

The rest of the beings in the cavern watch as Harry, with a satisfied smile on his face, ends the curse and draws his sword. He then swings it powerfully over his head and across Ghok Bashguud's neck, which slices the Orc's head clean off.

Harry grabs the head by its hair and lifts it up. "End this foolishness and live, or join your leaders in their fate," he says to the hall.

The Dark Horde members share hesitant looks before they, one-by-one, lay their weapons down.

Harry gives a satisfied smile before apparating back to General Drakkisath and tossing the Orc head near the Dragonspawn's feet.

Drakkisath doesn't even look at the body part. "We believe that War Master Voone and Highlord Omokk have set their base of operations in the Chamber of Battle. You shall find them both there," the Dragonspawn tells Harry.

Harry nods, casts an invisibility spell as well as silencing spell on himself, and pops to the Chamber of Battle. He appears in the corner of a stone and metal room, which is currently housing War Master Voone, Highlord Omokk, a beaten and bound Overlord Wyrmthalak, who is Drakkisath's second in command, and the dead body of Urok Doomhowl, who was, and obviously no longer is, the leader of the Dark Horde's Ogres.

Harry looks at the Ogre; Omokk used to be Doomhowl's second in command, but it appears the Ogre decided now was a good time to rise in the ranks. Harry then turns his attention to Voone, who, despite the size differences, is the real threat in the room. During the Second War, Voone led small strike teams on daring missions into the heart of high elven territory. The cunning troll later joined the Dark Horde as its chief strategist. Harry suspects Voone is the one truly behind this uprising.

Harry grins and casts a Whispering Charm, a spell him and Ron Weasley learned during their second year at Hogwarts so they could talk to another from across rooms, at Highlord Omokk.

"The Troll plans to kill you," Harry quietly says.

Highlord Omokk looks around in confusion, as the charm caused him to hear Harry's voice in his ear.

"He's just using you until he gets what he wants," Harry continues whispering. "War Master Voone cannot be trusted."

The Ogre keeps a confused look on his face, but now it is directed toward the Troll; Harry smiles to himself at the unimaginable stupidity of Ogres.

"Trolls have no honor," Harry says. "Master Voone will stab you in the back when you least expect it."

"What," Omokk says out loud, his voice filled with confusion.

War Master Voone glances up from a map of the Spire that he is studying. "What is it," the Troll sharply asks.

Harry continues to press on as the Highlord begins to clench his teeth. "You must strike now, attack him before he attacks you." Harry notices the Ogre tensing. "Attack, attack now, attack him before it's too late. Kill the Troll; kill him for honor, for your life, and you alone will lead the Dark Horde to victory." Harry smiles to himself. "Attack the traitor; attack!"

Highlord Omokk suddenly lets out a roar and slams his mace down toward War Master Voone, who nimbly leaps out of the way before he is crushed.

"What are you doing, you stupid beast," Voone asks, as he draws a matching pair of war axes.

"Me smash, you die," Omokk yells in response, as he charges back toward Voone.

The Troll snarls and stands his ground as the rampaging Ogre barrels down on him. Then, at the last second, Master Voone dives between the Highlord's feet, rolls to a stand, and slashes through the back of the Ogre's meaty legs.

Omokk grunts in pain as his legs collapse beneath him and he skids face first against the rocky ground. He attempts to raise his mace back up, but Voone slams his axe into the hand holding the weapon. Omokk lets out a wail of pain, drops the mace, and attempts to crawl away, as if he believes he will actually be able to escape the deadly Troll by pulling himself across the floor.

War Master Voone kicks the helmet off Omokk's head, grabs the Ogre by his hair, draws a long crooked dagger from his waist, and drives the blade deep through the Highlord's right eye. The troll twists the weapon, jerks it back out, and lets the Ogre's head fall.

Voone suddenly lets out a pain filled yell as a lion appears out of what seems to be thin air and clamps its massive jaws on the Troll's left arm. The War Master tries to stab at the lion with his dagger, but another of the felines jumps from the side of the room and attaches itself to his other arm. The lions grow even more aggressive and begin trying to literally pull the tortured Troll in half by his arms.

"Thanks for taking care of the Highlord for me," Harry cheerfully says as he finally drops the invisibility spell and walks into view. "Most people just aren't considerate like that these days." Harry stands above the Troll, who has fallen to his knees and is being held still by the lions firmly clamped upon his arms.

War Master Voone does nothing except glare as Harry un-sheaths his sword.

Harry then swings the weapon around and removes the Troll's head from his shoulders. He then banishes his conjured lions, releases Overlord Wyrmthalak from his bonds, and proceeds to decapitate the corpse of Highlord Omokk. That done, he re-sheaths his sword, grabs hold of bodiless heads, and apparates back to General Drakkisath.

"Har'ri, you have brought the heads of the betrayers." Drakkisath, who is holding a spear with Ghok Bashguud's head on the end, turns to face Harry. "Master Nefarian will be pleased."

Harry just rolls his eyes and drops the heads on the ground.

Two months after Blackhand's assassination, Harry finds himself standing in the corner of the Chromatic Flight's rookery with his arms crossed as Sinestra, formerly known as Sintharia, inspects the Chromatic whelps and eggs.

Sinestra was the prime consort of Deathwing after his corruption, as she was the only one of Deathwing's mates who managed to survive the process. She is also the mother of Nefarian as well as Onyxia. She isn't nearly as powerful as her two strongest children, but she is still a force to be reckoned with.

"They are an unacceptable color," Sinestra, in a female Blood Elven form, says as she glares at the violet skinned whelps.

Harry frowns at her. "They may not be the most vicious of colors, but that doesn't change that they are of the Black Dragon Flight."

Sinestra gives Harry a sharp look. "They are servants, not members, of the Black Flight." She looks back at the little dragons. "My son said they were not yet capable of breeding."

Harry picks up one of the whelps. "Unfortunately no, since they contain attributes of all five Dragon Flights, their bodies are too unstable to naturally reproduce." Harry scratches the whelp behind its ear, to the dragon's obvious enjoyment. "It is a problem we hope to fix in the future."

Sinestra just sneers, as she is far from satisfied with the Chromatic dragons.

"So why exactly am I here," Harry asks the closest thing the Black Flight has ever had to a queen. "Nefarian said you had need of me, and I'm assuming it's for something more than being your tour guide around the mountain."

"It is not a slave's place to question their masters," Sinestra cruelly responds.

"Does that mean you do or don't want my help?" Harry gives her a deadpan stare.

She glares back at him. "Come with me." She suddenly turns and walks out of the rookery.

Harry sighs but follows after her anyways.

"My son tells me that you are a powerful mage," Sinestra says as they walk through the corridors of Blackrock Spire.

"I wouldn't consider myself a pushover," Harry replies as he walks next to Sinestra; he refuses to walk behind her.

"For your sake, you best not be," she says. "You will accompany me on an assault against the Blue Dragons. They believe they have discovered the location of a thought lost artifact within the mountains of Deadwind Pass. We shall recover it first."

"And what is this item we seek?" Harry gives her a sideways glance.

Sinestra smiles in glee. "It is an artifact created by the Blue Dragon Balacgos over ten thousand years ago. The cube was cable of absorbing and storing a great amount of magic. However, Balacgos was careless and was killed in his experiments with the cube. This in turn caused Malygos to give the cube, given the name of Balacgos's Bane, to Deathwing, still Neltharion at the time, for safekeeping. Neltharion hid it away deep in the earth, where it has remained forgotten and undiscovered, until now."

The pair exits the Spire onto one of the many large balconies jutting out from the mountain. Sinestra transforms into her dragon form, which is a large wyrm dragon of a purplish hue. There are many scars and burn marks along her body, most which were received by mating with Deathwing.

"Get on, mage," Sinestra tells Harry.

Harry grimaces and climbs onto the wyrm's back. Once he is settled, Sinestra leaps off the mountain side and falls toward the ground. Within the last few moments before impact with the surface, Sinestra opens her wings, pulls up, and launches back through the sky.

Harry doesn't bother trying to fight off the smile on his face; if there is one thing that Harry loves, it is flying.

Now on their way toward Deadwind Pass, Harry attempts to get comfortable on Sinestra's back. He knows that even on a powerful wyrm, it will take some time before they make it to their destination.

Harry watches the scenery as they fly. This is the first time he has gone farther south than the Burning Steppes, and he enjoys getting to see something more than just rock, lava, and the barren wasteland that he has grown accustomed to. It really makes him appreciate all the nature that he and Sinestra fly over.

It is over fifteen hours after they leave Blackrock Mountain that Sinestra is waking Harry, who decided to sleep halfway through the trip.

"Are we there," Harry asks as he stretches the kinks that formed in his body from sleeping on a flying dragon.

"We are still an hour from our destination," Sinestra replies.

Harry suddenly feels a jolt of magic pulse across his skin. "Did you feel that," he asks the dragon under him.

"It is why I woke you," she says. "I do not know what that magic is, but we are going to discover the cause of it."

Harry frowns as he looks down on the bleak and jagged landscape which is Deadwind Pass. He can tell that whatever is causing the pulses of magic is dangerous and very, very, dark.

Sinestra suddenly nose dives down toward one of the mountains and lands upon one of the ridges. Harry then slides off her side and she transforms back into her Blood Elf form.

"Whatever it is, it is just past the cliff," Harry states what they both already know, as they approach the edge of the mountain.

Once at the edge, they both look down into the valley below. It is there that they spot at least a dozen mages in purple robes stand around a large pile of what appears to be dragon bones. The bones are large and blackened; by the size of them Harry believes that the skeleton once belonged to a fully grown wyrm.

"Those mages are wearing robes of the Kirin Tor. Any guesses at what Dalaran could possible want with a long dead dragon," Harry asks the Black next to him.

Harry assumes that these mages are part of the Violet Eye, a sect of the Kirin Tor dedicated to keeping the powers that call Karazhan home contained. Karazhan is only a little ways south of their current position.

"A few," she admits. "I believe those bones belong to the Blue Wyrm Arcanagos, who it is said was slain by Medivh. I participated in battle against the Blue many times in the past."

Medivh was the last owner of Karazhan and is the man who opened the Dark Portal and allowed the Orcs to invade Azeroth during the First War.

Whatever the Dalaran mages are doing seems to be working, as a dark light begins to glow around the dragon's remains. The bones start to assemble themselves into their proper places and the skeleton is pulled into the air by powerful magic. Suddenly a fiery light appears inside the skeleton's rib cage, its eyes begin to glow with an angry orange shine, and the now reanimated wyrm looks to the skies and lets out a terrifying roar.

Harry looks at the form of the dragon questioningly. "Why was it animated as a magma wyrm then? I was under the impression that a reanimated Blue Dragon is normally in the form of a frost wyrm."

Magma wyrms, with their blackened bones and angry orange core, are what reanimated Black Dragons are called in the rare cases that a dragon skeleton is brought into undeath. Reanimated Blue Dragons normally take the form of frost wyrms, which are colored with white bones and a blue core.

"I am positive that this magma wyrm is Arcanagos," Sinestra says to herself just as much as to Harry. "It is possible that whatever Medivh used to kill Arcanagos was so powerful that it altered his very essence."

"I do believe he is angry about being resurrected," Harry says.

A large purple dome has appeared around the reanimated dragon, but the black boned wyrm doesn't seem to be very happy about it. It starts to slam its body into the shield and, when that doesn't seem to be having much effect, it spews out a black flame against the magical barrier.

"Sinestra," Harry slowly says as he looks at the monstrous form below him. "You said you've fought this dragon before right? You were more powerful than it weren't you?"

"I was always the stronger of the two of us," Sinestra replies as if she is offended by the mere thought of a Blue Dragon being more powerful. "Slightly," she then adds.

The magma wyrm lets out a snarl of anger and again crashes into the shield, but this time the magic wall shatters on impact, to the purple garbed mages despair. The mages desperately try to get the dragon under control, but their magic doesn't seem to be having very much effect. Arcanagos roars and blasts fire out of his gaping maw, which turns half the mages into ash. The rest of the mages, seeing their comrades burnt to a crisp, begin teleporting away, most likely back to Dalaran.

The magma wyrm looks upwardand roars in victory.

"Is it just me, or is that thing looking right at us," Harry questions several moments later.

He is right, as the undead is staring directly toward the spot where Harry and Sinestra stand.

The skeleton launches into the air and streaks toward them. Sinestra leaps off the cliff, transforming into her true form as she does so, and meets Arcanagos in midair. The two dragons clash and fall to the ground, their massive forms clawing and biting at the other as they go.

As the two titans battle it out, Harry holds his hands out in front of him and begins forming a ball of chaotic green and black magic. When Harry assisted Nefarian against Vaelastrasz two months ago, he saw how ineffective his magic was against the most powerful of dragons. It was because of this that he sought out magic that would give him an edge against the creatures. So he approached the warlock members of the Dark Horde and had them teach him, after a month of lessons on the basics of a warlock's abilities, one of their most powerful spells, the Chaos Bolt.

Harry carefully taps into the Twisting Nether, an infinite source of unchecked and easily corrupting magical power that is the primary source of a warlock's strength. The Chaos Bolt is formed between his palms and Harry flings it down at the skeletal being. The bolt smacks into Arcanagos and draws a pained snarl from the creature.

Arcanagos twists around and slams Sinestra into a mountain side. Then, while the Black Dragon is stunned, he jumps into the sky and soars toward Harry, who proceeds to shoot another Chaos Bolt into the undead wyrm's skull.

"Arcanagos," Harry yells out as the dragon hovers above him. "We have no quarrel with you."

The wyrm roars once more. "Arcanagos is long dead," the skeleton says angrily. "I exist as Nightwing now."

Harry scowls and summons forth Fiendfire, which takes the shape of a dragon equal in size to Arcanagos, or Nightwing, as he now seems to prefer. Nightwing attempts to charge the flame-made dragon, but he just passes through it and the fiend sends a fiery flame into the undead's back.

Nightwing then proceeds to fight fire with fire by blasting his flames into the blazing dragon. The black fire proceeds to overcome the fiend and Harry's summoned fire is extinguished with a wave of heat.

Sinestra rejoins the fight and barrels into Nightwing. Pushing the skeletal dragon back, she seems to be taking the upper hand, but Nightwing manages to sink his teeth into her neck. The magma wyrm twists Sinestra's body to the ground, keeping his jaws clamped on her throat and slowing draining the life from the Black Queen.

Harry, doing something that most would consider reckless, pushes his magic into his legs and leaps onto Nightwing's back. Then, while channeling the slight amount of necromantic magic he knows, Harry thrusts his hand down inside of the glowing orange light that sits inside the skeleton's chest.

Harry feels as his very essence connects with Nightwing's. The undead dragon is full of chaotic energies, and Harry, with a great deal of effort, meticulously grabs hold of the strands that make the reanimated dragon's very being and he painfully attaches those strands to his very own being.

Harry opens his eyes, which he didn't even realize he closed, to find himself standing atop Nightwing, who has let loose of Sinestra and is calmly standing obediently.

Harry hopes off Nightwing's back and lands next to the dying Black Dragon. He then places his wand against Sinestra's neck and mutters an advanced healing spell. The magic takes a lot more energy than Harry would normally require for a healing spell, but Harry has never had to heal a dragon before either.

The wounds on Sinestra's neck seal up and the Black slowly morphs back down into her Blood Elven form.

"You enslaved the undead," Sinestra says as she sits up and eyes Nightwing's imposing form. She then turns and looks at Harry with a small amount of shock, respect, and if Harry isn't wrong, fear. "I was unaware that you possessed abilities in necromancy."

"I have no natural talent in the craft," Harry admits as he pats the leg of his newest pet. "But I've picked up a few things over the years."

Harry just hopes he doesn't need to do something of this sort again. Keeping Nightwing controlled is already pushing his miniscule necromantic powers to their limit. He knows that he won't be able to enslave anymore undead while he is keeping the skeletal dragon bound.

"Now," Harry says as he looks at Sinestra. "Don't we still have that cube of yours to find?"

Sinestra grimaces and nods her head.

Harry smiles down at her.

Nightwing roars into the sky.

Author's Note: There's chapter three. Like always reviews are welcome and appreciated.