AN: Yes it is a new story, I know, I am terrible I should update or finish my others first. Unfortunately though I have been really busy and not been able to gather the enthusiasm to finish those chapters. I will try though to get them done sooner than later though, work permitting.
But anyway here we go, I have recently been watching game of thrones and been reading a few crossovers and have really got into it. So when you combine that with me wanting to do a Harry Potter fic for a while now, we get a crossover. This crossover was heavily inspired by another crossover fanfic I read called Dragon's Fire, which was originally written by Jackalope89 but was then adopted by Exmongum (I was given permission). This fic will be mainly Harry Potter/Game of Thrones, but there will be hints of Skyrim in there as I think that the Skyrim world and the Game of Thrones world have so many similarities that it is almost perfect for crossingover.
Without further ado here is the first chapter, please enjoy the chapter, you might see some very small similarities to Kathryn518's fic I'm still here (1st chapter) at the very beginning and you would be right I asked permission, but those are the only very small similarities.
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He felt the shattered remnants of the tarmac road crunch underneath his booted feet as he slowly made his way down the dimly lit street. Thankfully, his feet made no sound as he walked; the battered black dragon-hide boots he wore having been enchanted with silencing runes along with many other enchantments, which muffled the sounds his footsteps made, and muted the sounds of the loose rubble under his feet. Those boots took forever to get spelled since dragonhide was a highly spell-resistant material. Around his shoulders, he wore a tattered and stained basilisk-hide overcoat that must once have been a dark green color but had since been stained and patched over time to the point at which it was almost unrecognizable. Beneath his heavy overcoat was a battered and scarred red dragon-hide cuirass; the body armor had many faint runes carved into the material, each fulfilling a different purpose, like runes for strength, vitality, weightlessness, durability, and resistance. Roughly bolted on the once beautiful armor were thin plates of goblin-made steel, placed to cover vital areas on the human body and to offer extra protection from spell fire. From the waist down, he was again dressed in battered armored dragon-hide; again enchanted with runic protections and plates of goblin-forged steel over black dragonhide trousers.
His faintly glowing green eyes, dashed with flecks of red, moved over each building as he walked down the street. His observant gaze taking in each and every detail of the surrounding area as he passed. His vibrant eyes glinted and his features were plain; neither incredibly handsome nor incredibly ugly. The only thing that marked him as unique were his eyes that seemed to swim with power but were otherwise emotionless. Despite that, however, the patchy unshaven stubble that was on his grimy and tired looking face showed how exhausted he was.
The tired and scruffy looking man was one Harry Potter and at this moment he was cautiously traveling down the dilapidated street with a wand in his left hand, slowly and casually twirling it in his fingers, as he made his way down Diagon Alley. Just over a decade ago this had been a bustling hub of shops and shoppers. Now, as he looked around at his surroundings it looked more like a ghost town.
He could see the hazy forms of ghosts in some of the burnt-out husks of the buildings that still remained. The magic that had once sustained the charms that kept London's muggles from noticing Diagon Alley had long since faded, unable to sustain itself due to the destroyed ward stones. Not that it really mattered, as the rest of London didn't look better than the empty husk that Diagon Alley had become. The same could be said for the rest of the world: it had all gone to shit.
His eye flitted over the various stores he remembered. There was Ollivander's wand shop, destroyed by Voldemort early on the Second Wizarding War. Harry idly remembered the man's silver-eyed stare that seemed to pierce straight through him when he had gone to get his first wand. He could still remember the confusion and incomprehension he had felt when Ollivander had first told him that the wand that had chosen him was the brother of the wand that gave him his scar. It was such a shame that destroying his first wand in one of the rituals he had done many years ago. A ritual he and his remaining allies had all gone through, which shattered a person's treasured first wand and infused the pieces into the bones in the person's forearm. The cost was the agony of the ritual and the loss of a treasured possession. The reward, however, was the ability to use wandless magic with the hand and arm that one did the ritual on. It had been very beneficial in the war as a wizard or witch could never be disarmed and so would never be powerless. No doubt it was the reason so many of Harry's allies who did the ritual have survived as long as they did.
Continuing on down the Alley, his eyes moved over the other stores, broken down and empty, its residents having long since been killed or fled, most probably killed. It was the same everywhere the world over or at least that was what he had heard as he and his allies' information network, decimated during the wars of the last decade, had left them half-blind to many of the goings on.
He shook his head, freeing his mind from the memories of those figurative ghosts. They didn't matter anymore either.
Harry could feel several magical presences somewhere ahead of him. It was coming from the general direction of the site of the former Ministry of Magic. Unsurprisingly, he couldn't sense anyone he didn't recognize in the vicinity, not surprising considering that there were probably no more than two thousand people, muggle or magical, left in the entirety of Britain. The war truly was both terrible and devastating for all sides.
A frown crossed Harry's grimy face as he continued on down the street. He wondered what the hell they were doing here in London in the first place. There was nothing left except the rubble of the giant buildings that had once stood there proudly. He could still remember when London had literally shattered: the muggle nuclear bombs discriminated between no one, destroying anything in the way. Not even the powerful wards covering Diagon Alley could survive the bomb's destructive power due to the wards not been tailored to stopping that amount of power or radiation. Of course, the same could also be said about Fiendfyre which was used in London and in many other cities and battlefields across the globe, destroying anything it touched.
Again, he wondered what was so important that it brought them all here, out of their safe houses. There was nothing left of value in London; it having been picked clean many times already. It truly made no sense that the information he had received had led him here was not very specific on the reasons why. He would have thought that this would be a trap if it weren't for the fact there was barely anyone strong enough or stupid enough to try.
This whole thing had started when Harry was just fourteen. Voldemort's servants had captured him and used him in a ritual to revive their master. The fully alive and empowered Voldemort had then gone on to declare the beginning to the second British Wizarding War. Not that the war stayed just in Britain for very long as this war was so much worse than the first one or any other war that had come before it. It had not only drawn in the entire wizarding world but the muggle world as well. There were no neutral sides or countries. It was bedlam: everyone attacking everyone; no-one was safe. It was, in a single word, chaos. The conflict drew anyone or anything whether they had magic or not. It had engulfed the entire world and had long since been known that there were no winners: everyone had lost something in this war and now the world was little more than a barren wasteland, scarred by massively powerful magic attacks and the muggles nuclear missiles, barely able to support the few remaining people who survived. Everything was now toxic and deadly from the water in the earth to the very air people breathed.
As Harry he walked into the empty Ministry building, he could not help but remember how Cornelius Fudge, then Minister of Magic, who previously loudly and repeatedly claimed that Voldemort hadn't returned, going so far as to vilify Harry and Dumbledore and anyone else who sided with them, was strung up and crucified in the atrium of the Ministry. As he walked through the once majestic atrium, Harry could see nothing but rubble and charred skeletons, most probably the remnants of both the bombing and destruction of London or the bloody coup that Voldemort had orchestrated that led to him taking over the entire Ministry in a single day. Fortunately, he was driven out two days later before he can consolidate his control and rule unopposed.
Not that Dumbledore and his forces did any real damage to Voldemort and his Death Eaters due mostly to their refusal to kill their enemies but instead locked them up. Most of the Death Eaters that Dumbledore and the Aurors fought were merely captured and shipped off to Azkaban. Voldemort promptly freed them after being incarcerated less than seventy-two hours before once more to reign havoc.
Soon after the battle at the Ministry and its release of all captured Death Eaters, both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade became victims of the war, with hundreds of Death Eaters, civilians, and Aurors being killed. This soon spread as muggles began getting caught up in the middle resulting in the magical world's existence being brought to light through the internet and social media. This notified the general populace, who like the stupid sheep they were, taking matters into their own hands; leading to chaos, death, and, now, the borderline extinction of the human race.
By that point, the International Confederation of Wizards had tried to blockade the entire island of Britain both magical and muggle, hoping to contain Voldemort and his strengthening army of Death Eaters. It was foolish as the news of the magical world had spread and the muggles had swiftly taken up arms and began attacking anything that maybe magical. The panic and fear were so great that the different countries' respective governments could not mediate the situation. Soon, there was war and chaos all over the world as missiles were launched by overly zealous soldiers and radical politicians, religious fanatics and scared muggles hunted down and burned anything they deemed as magical.
In Britain, the Dark Lord had responded to the attempted blockade by amassing all his followers including Death Eaters, giants, werewolves, hags and vampires before breaking the blockade and assaulting the ICW Headquarters in France. However, that was not the worst part. No, the worst part was the added help Voldemort had acquired. He had summoned demons to this realm: large pale-skinned demons that devoured most magic and wielded fel powers that slew countless people.
No one had done that for centuries and even the knowledge of summoning them had been lost to the ages. Yet somehow, Voldemort had found out how. The practice was banned due to the danger involved not only to one's self and one's soul but to the world. No one could understand how he could have done such a thing because it seemed that he didn't just summoned a demon, instead he created a temporary portal that summoned thousands of demons. And due to the fact that the knowledge was lost, not only did no one, Voldemort included, know how to control or subjugate the demons, no one knew how to effectively fight them either. Wizards were like lambs to slaughter and muggles . . . Muggles were even more unfortunate.
It was during the battle at the ICW Headquarter and amidst the slaughter caused by the demon, Voldemort had out-duelled and killed Dumbledore before fleeing with his remaining followers, the portal destabilizing and closing as he left. Not before it had released thousands of powerful, bloodthirsty demons into the world that had soon spread out, hunting down and killing anything with a pulse.
Then Voldemort, in trying to find sanctuary from the hell that he had unleashed, attacked Hogwarts. The last remaining stronghold in all of Europe, the place where the last of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix and many other remaining witches and wizards, dwelled, including Harry. Harry had watched as Voldemort attacked the school with the remnants of his army and fought on the frontlines as the Dark Lord threw everything he had against the wards of Hogwarts, shattering them with the sheer force of his magic that had been boosted by his use of the Elder Wand that he had taken from Dumbledore's corpse after defeating him.
With the wards destroyed, the battle for Hogwarts was surprisingly quick as Voldemort led his entire army in a single huge assault. The battle that followed led to the death of nearly all the defenders of Hogwarts as well as a great number of Voldemort's army. During the end of the battle, when their loss was clear for all to see, Harry and several dozen friends escaped out of the secret passages in the school not before he had summoned as much Fiendfyre as he could conjure and released it into Hogwarts as the last act of selfish defiance against Voldemort. It had worked as it killed Voldemort and his remaining Death Eaters gruesomely, he might add, and had also destroyed the last great sanctuary of Britain, leaving it a ruined shell of its former self.
Demons, who were still rampaging across the world, seemed naturally drawn to powerful magic. They hunted down all living things but were especially attracted to magical beings: be they goblins, veela, wizards, or centaurs. This meant that the demons would hunt down and attack Harry and his allies, which constantly kept them on the run, using guerrilla warfare on the pursuing demons or overwhelming power and destruction on any enemy they came across be they magical or muggle. Harry and his allies used this time on the run to hone their skills in magic and battle using the many grimoires and books he had taken from Dumbledore's extensive personal library on many rare and powerful magics both dark and light. He had also taken the sword of Gryffindor; the Sorting Hat; the Gaunt family ring, which Harry later learned from Dumbledore's Grimoire was an ancient mystical item known as the Stone of Resurrection. When combined with the Cloak of Invisibility, which was apparently the Potter family cloak; and the Elder Wand, which Dumbledore owned before Voldemort took it; would make the wielder the Master of Death. It was, therefore, a pity when Fiendfyre destroyed the Elder Wand back at Hogwarts.
The goblins, who before the attack on the ICW had attempted to stay neutral in the conflict, hid from the war in their underground cities, were also set upon by demons, the vast hordes of gold and magical items kept beneath Gringotts drawing them like moths to a flame. The goblins, being a proud race and unwilling to give up their wealth or their lives, had sent out their forces to attack Voldemort's demons viciously, uncaring of any collateral damage their actions may cause to magicals and muggles. It turns out that the goblins, being the little fuckers they were, had knowledge on how to defeat demons. Although the demons could be affected by magic, they could not be killed by it. Instead, it was physical weapons imbued with magic that could kill them. Unlike wizards, goblins were adept at physical combat and their magical weapons were very effective in cutting down the demonic forces.
The goblins' war on the demons lasted two years before they were able to wipe out a great many of them. Their losses though had been significant as the killing of more than ninety-five percent of the goblin race in the many battles that took place across the world against the rampaging pale-skinned demons. Harry and his friends had taken part in many of the battles the goblins fought against the demons in return for magical weapons, armor, or the goblins' magical secrets. Over the course of the two years of assisting the goblins, Harry and his allies had managed to learn a lot about magic and how to use it in combat to the best effect, something that they had needed to know by necessity in order to survive in the harsh world at war they found themselves in.
Other surviving wizards and witches had, of course, been busy. Some had attempted to take over all the vaults in Gringotts. No doubt hoping to steal enough gold and magical weaponry to survive and probably carve out their own little kingdom in the ashes of the old world, only to find that the goblins had magically sealed off the tunnels with goblin blood-wards and seemingly collapsed them when they left for war. That meant not only were the scavengers unable to reach any of the wealth in there, some had met grisly ends in the underground tunnels.
Harry remembered exploring those same tunnels and vaults later on with Daphne Greengrass, Neville Longbottom, Fred and George Weasley, his closest living friends and allies, along with a couple of his remaining goblin acquaintances. They practiced their ward and curse breaking under the goblins' supervision, breaking into now abandoned vaults. In a rare moment of leisure, they had even taken the time to find some of the Death Eater vaults and pack huge amounts of their gold into multi-compartmented trunks. They took great pleasure in doing so as they broke into the Lestrange, the Carrow, and the Malfoy vaults.
At the moment, gold was relatively useless since there was no economy but they had liked to joke that when the war was over, they would be so phenomenally rich that they would be able to live out the rest of their lives in leisure. Unfortunately, it never came true. By the time the war ended, the gold was worthless and life was a constant struggle.
Harry wore an unbreakable necklace on which a shrunken trunk with two large magically expanded internal compartments filled with all that gold. He didn't need the gold for any purpose, he just didn't need the space in the trunk for anything else really. Now, it was just another memento. Like his parents' photo-album that Hagrid had gotten him, or the pieces of his first Firebolt, the one Sirius had gotten him. Harry had another broom stored in there but he no longer really needed it to fly, having learned how to fly unaided from Dumbledore's spell books. Not that flying unaided gave him the rush using a broom did. His lover, Susan Bones, had learned how to fly unaided. Not that it was very useful for her as she had died only months after having learned how, killed by a stray bullet from an ambush led by muggles. No doubt wanting to take whatever they could and run. The muggles had all died, horribly, but they managed to kill one member of Harry's group.
On that last thought, Harry quashed his memories of the past as he walked. There was no point dwelling on those events that were long gone and with the Department of Mysteries destroyed, he would not be able to turn back time. He returned his focus to the here and now. He had a meeting to attend after all. With that, Harry continued on walking down the stairs that led to the Department of Mysteries, the fancy elevators used by the Ministry having been destroyed. As he continued his journey, his mind wandered again: the constant conflicts with Voldemort, muggles, and his other enemies had taken its toll on his health. Not so much his physical health but his mental health. One could only go through so much pain, hatred, and loss before one snapped. Now, while Harry wouldn't say he was insane, he was still quite unhinged and had a questionable morality.
His body had been mostly protected from any significant damage due, in part, to the many rituals and experiments he had undergone in his search of power during the war. The runes that covered a large part of the dragon-hide armor he wore also helped with regards to protecting him from permanent damage. Studying runes and integrating them into his body and armor had been a long and painful but necessary process. It was something he learned from Dumbledore's books and the goblins back when he was fighting the demon hordes, and something he had carried on ever since. His friends had also performed some rituals but not as many as Harry had: runes to strengthen his armor for protection; to make his armor resistant to fire, water, lightning, etc.; and for nearly anything and everything he could think of. The subject of runes was truly boundless and something he had become incredibly talented in. The branding of the rune on dragon skin had consumed most of his time, but it was the powering of the rune from his magical core that hurt. Each time he had to power a rune for a permanent basis and affixed to his armor, it was like volunteering for the Cruciatus Curse and had left him magically exhausted for days after as his magical core expanded and adjusted to each new drain on it. It had been when he was working with Daphne that he had done his best work in runes, truly pushing beyond anything modern-day wizards could have ever thought possible. They never got to explore all the ideas they had, time being limited during the war due to the fighting, and they were busy doing other things after the war. Harry organized and lead the group of survivors that followed him, calling themselves the Order of the Dragon, both to show their respect for the original order's premise but also to show that they would not be as peaceful or Light-obsessed. Instead, they would be as passionate and dangerous as a dragon. Daphne, however, had been doing other work, looking for a way to improve the world they live in or make it more habitable. Harry wasn't sure as she was being quite tight-lipped about it.
Spreading out his senses, he could tell he was getting closer to the meeting place as he could sense twenty-four magical signatures ahead: the entire Order had gathered and he was the last. Glancing up, he saw a ghostly white owl fly overhead. It was Hedwig, his familiar, who had survived the entire war and had become almost a pseudo look-out for him and the Order. However, she gave no warning or sign that there was anyone but the rest of the Order ahead of himself. Making certain, he began stretching his senses out warily for any muggles or rogue wizards or witches that had prepared an ambush, it would be a stupid thing to do, but these were dangerous times and Harry was quite paranoid.
As he walked through the dilapidated halls of the Ministry, heading to the chamber that held the Veil of Death. Why they were meeting here though he didn't know. As he arrived, he saw that Order were standing around a rune-engraved stone archway talking quietly among themselves in huddles with each member wearing a cloak or armor. Representing every members of almost every sentient race in the twenty-five member of the Order of the Dragon and those who were under the Order's protection: their sixteen witches and wizards present, three Goblins, two veela, a vampire, a centaur, and a half giant. These members included the Weasley twins, who were the last of their family; Neville Longbottom; Daphne and Astoria Greengrass, the last of their family also; the two Delacour sisters, the only known Veela left alive; Hagrid, the not-so-gentle half-giant; Firenze the chieftain of the last forty centaurs in Europe, if not the world; Ragnar the goblin king, who leads the one hundred and fifty remaining goblins in Europe that had not fled or died; and a vampire by the name of Serena. There were, of course, those under the Order's protection hiding in safehouses dotted around Britain.
They were all standing around the Veil itself, which was surrounded by an intricate circle of glowing crimson runes.
"Friends," Harry called out as he walked into the crumbling room and began to make his way down the steps to meet the rest at the bottom. "Why the fuck are we meeting here of all places?"
"Just as charming as ever I see, Harry," Neville Longbottom responded loudly, stepping out of the group to greet him. Neville was a large man, having grown from a chubby little kid into a hulking man over six feet tall and covered in muscle. To add to his size, he was clad in battle-scarred, goblin-forged silver plate armor. A magnificent piece of workmanship, though he had covered most of it up with a black cloak to stop the armor from drawing too much attention to himself. The armor and size aside, Neville hadn't changed much. He was still friendly and loyal, but is now tempered by a hardness and ruthlessness that he saved only for his enemies.
"As for why we're here, my friend, I'm not sure myself. Daphne called the Order meeting, said something about a new hope or something like that," Neville continued as he met Harry at the bottom of the steps and pulled him in for a hug.
"Sounds cryptic and very Daphne-like. Glad to see something hasn't change," Harry replied as he walked into the group of his allies. "Fleur and Gabrielle, looking as ravishing as ever I see."
"Oui, 'Arry, and you are just as ugly as ever, non?" was the response he got as Fleur tossed her waist-length hair over her shoulder, before giving him a gentle smile, "But seriously, 'Arry, you should stay in touch more. We 'ave not seen you for weeks."
Fleur's younger sister, Gabrielle, a tall and elegant beauty herself almost identical to Fleur save for having her hair cropped short, crashed into Harry as she wrapped her long arms around him and laid a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Harry, thank God you're here, I was getting so bored."
"Good to see you too, Gabby," Harry replied as he gave her a brief hug and gave her sister one as well before he went on to talk to the rest of the members of the Order. He had been away from the Order's safehouse for a few weeks looking for any survivors who had not gone mad or were worth saving. Unfortunately, he had come up short with the few people he had come across that had to be put down, most having been driven mad by radiation poisoning.
"Hiya, Harry. Did you bring any more survivors in or was it like the last time?" Hagrid called ou, walking over. Hagrid had changed a lot over the years as he had lost some of the warmth he was known for and had become harder and colder. He could still be himself around those close to him, but around others, he was not so friendly. This was one of the reason the Order had him looking after the magical animals they had been able to save as they didn't want him scaring or hurting any of the new people.
"No, there is no one left out there anymore," Harry replied sadly before he was once again embraced by the ever eager Gabrielle as she attempted to comfort him.
"When you have quite finished flirting, now that you have finally arrived, we can start," Daphne's clipped voice called out. A stunning woman with golden blond hair and icy blue eyes. She had high cheekbones and an almost haunting beauty about her. She was wearing black dragonhide armor, which, like Harry's, were covered in glowing runes and at her side was a goblin-forged rapier, a deadly looking blade that seemed to suit her to a tee. "Well, everyone, gather 'round. I didn't call you here for just a social gathering. I have news and it's good."
"Well, get on with it then. It's bloody cold in this wasteland," Blaise Zabini growled as he took a step forward, drawing attention to himself. Blaise was a mess: he was wearing a carved black metal mask in the shape of his own face, which he wore to cover a wound that had melted most of his face with a dark spell until it looked barely human. Alongside this, he was missing his left hand, which he had replaced with a blade. He had, understandably, become bitter and harsh due to this and was less than pleasant company. Deadly as all hell though. "Hurry the fuck up."
"Patience is a virtue, Blaise. You should know that by now," Daphne coldly sniped, a scowl gracing her features at his harshness. However, upon Harry's cough and the pointed look, she decided to drop it and continue. "I have found a way for us to escape this dying world using the Veil. Through several experiments, I have found that the Veil does not lead to death or the Void as the Unspeakable said. Instead, it connects to another world. My hypothesis is that at some point either someone on our world or someone on theirs created the Veil as a bridge between the two worlds and the archway is the physical representation of that bridge. With several tests, I have found that we can safely travel through the Veil to the other side without adverse effect. Unfortunately though, the gateway on the other side is underwater, which means we would have to find a way to travel underwater and use that before we go through. Otherwise, we'll quickly drown upon reaching the other side."
As Daphne finished her explanation, she got many surprised and skeptical looks from the rest of the Order. Before anyone else could speak up, Harry took a step towards her asking, "If this gate was created by the people on the other side, why is it underwater? And how do you know that this new world is habitable?"
"No doubt the land on the other archway may have sunk beneath the sea at some point. The archway here is thousands of years old and with it being all the way down nearly a mile under street level. As for whether it is habitable, the water is clean of either contamination or pollution, more so than this world back before the war. There were also clear signs of human life, ancient buildings submerged underwater and a few sunken ships. Enough signs that I'm confident we will find land that's clean and habitable," Daphne promptly replied, which had the rest of the Order muttering between themselves.
"If we were to go through, how would we do it? We might be able to salvage one of those muggle submarines, but then we would have no clue how to actually use it. I'm not sure about you, but I want to get off this dying rock as quickly as possible," Neville spoke as he scratches his scruffy brown beard thoughtfully.
"I 'ave an idea. What about zat ship zat Durmstrang used when zey came to 'Ogwarts? Ze one zat traveled underwater. Could we not recreate zat? After all between us we 'ave many talented magic users," Fleur asked as she thought back to the Triwizard Tournament all those years ago.
"I also had the same idea as Fleur and have already started the plans for the ship, making sure it is large enough to fit the entire Order: the 323 wizards and witches we are sheltering, the 150 or so goblins we have allied with; the eighty odd centaurs and the magical creatures we have managed to save. Even with multiple expansion charms, it'll be one massive ship and will be heavily armed and protected as we have no clue whether the people in the other world will be hostile," Daphne replied, voicing her support on Fleur's idea she once again drew the Order's attention.
"If we do this, can we fit the ship through the Veil? I'm not sure about you but the archway doesn't look that big to me," Fred Weasley asked with his twin brother, George, nodding along with him. The Weasley twins haven't really changed much physically over the course of the war but has become a lot more serious, especially after having lost all of their family to either muggles or Voldemort's forces.
"That's simple, Freddy boy. Those red runes around the archway are what will make it possible. What they do is expand the portal of the archway to whatever size you want. It's actually a complicated piece of work. I'm impressed, Daph, your runecrafting has improved," Harry replied as he crouched down and looked at the glowing red runes that surrounded the archway before he turned to look at Daphne with a smirk.
"Shush, you. My work has always been good," Daphne responded giving Harry a faint smile before she turned to the rest of the group, "He might be a tool but Harry is right. Anyway, from my estimates, it'll probably take at least a month to finish the ship and organize our people. If we're all agreed on this course of action, we can get down to it and hopefully we'll be off this barren piece of rock in a month or so."
"Fuck, yeah!" Dean Thomas shouted, an action which many members of the Order echoed as they all started shouting and cheering. Although the plan wasn't finalized it was still a plan, a hope that the Order had long been without.
"So, I take it we're all in favor of the plan? Does that include you Firenze, Ragnar?" Harry asked the goblin king and the chief of the centaur.
"I will have to take it to my people, but I can say I am in favor of this idea. It has been too long since we have had any hope for a better future and if leaving this world is what is needed, it is a risk I am willing to take," Ragnar replied, his long fingers clasped in front of him, as his pointed face twisted into a cruel smile, "Besides what could be better for a warrior race like our own than a new world to make our mark."
As Ragnar finished all the members laughed and cheered having long since grown used to the goblins' personalities. The other two goblins in the Order also nodded along with Ragnar in agreement.
As the cheering died down, Harry turned to look at Firenze, the blonde centaur who stood bare-chested, his white horse body gleaming in the dim light of the Chamber of Death. "I shall take it to the rest of the herd but I have no doubt that they will accept the plan. The forest and wilds of this world have died. There is nothing for us here anymore, only death. A new world represents a new opportunity for my people: an opportunity we would be fools to miss, but still, I must ask and no doubt several of us must consult the stars and find the right path."
"Hah!" Harry snorted good-naturedly, chuckling, "Trust you centaurs, eh? Always looking to the stars."
"Indeed, but it is how we are and would you have us any other way?" Firenze laughed softly as he ran his hand through his thick blond hair, his tired facing turning up into a smile.
"All right then, we have a plan. If it's accepted, then we go through the Veil in a month. We create a ship that will allow us to travel through the water both under and over with additions which we can use to protect ourselves and secure our place in this new world!" Harry called out as he walked up several stairs so that he was standing slightly higher than the rest of the Order. "Are we agreed?"
"Best option so far."
"It's decided then," Harry smirked as he looked at all his friends and allies and saw the hope and excitement on many of their faces, emotions that they had not shown for a long time. Upon meeting Daphne's eyes, Harry's smirk becoming slightly more gentle before he continued, "So it begins!"
AN: I hope people enjoyed the chapter, I was hoping to do something original or sort of original for a HP/GOF crossover whether or not I have succeeded I don't know. Depending on how popular this is I may update it faster than my other stories. But I won't foret about them and will start working and finishing off the next chapters, the next update should by Ten Tailed Wolf.
This chapter has been betaed by Foxmac.
See you all next time.