Harry Potter and the realm of Dungeons and Dragons.

It was a beautiful morning in Privet Drive. The sun shined over the immaculately clean rooftops and green luscious gardens. The wind blew a soft tune through the branches of the hedgerows, similar to whistling. The sunflowers in Madam Dursley's vases were all turning their necks to see the sun, while from within the kitchen Harry could hear her voice start to hum a soft tune. She did that every time she cleaned the table. He knew the woman's name was Petunia, but it wasn't as if he had permission to use it. She was Madam, just like Mr. Dursley was to be called Mister, and just like Dudley was the one who could hit him with impunity.

He should have thought it wrong, but it was how life had always been for him after all, so he believed it the norm. On the positive note was that Mr. Dursley tended to go to 'work' for most of the morning and the afternoon, and that did make him happy. The man was always yelling at him every time he was in his sights and albeit he always raised his hand it wasn't as if he had hit him with it. He'd probably end up being called soon, considering it was nearly time for Dudley's afternoon snack. Harry needed to prepare the bacon after all, Madam Dursley didn't like to clean the grease from the pans, and so it was he who had to do both the cooking and the cleaning.

It did make sense though: he was apparently a really costly boy, so he was grateful they had found a way for him to repay their graciousness in taking him in. Sure, maybe the cupboard was starting to get a bit small, but he did have some toys in there. Sometimes he found them near the cracks in the hedgerows with the Dursley's neighbor, Miss Figgs. The old cranky woman had a lot of cats, but she was harmless as long as he kept himself out of her garden to hide from Dudley and his gang.

Material Plane, Moradin's Temple.

"For Moradin! Where's the damn barrel of beer!?" A portly dwarf with a long trimmed black beard yelled out loud, his voice echoing through the massive stone walls of Moradin's temple. He was wearing a full armor decked in the God of Dwarves symbols, a massive steel Dwarven War Axe on his back, and apparently, he was lacking a drink.

"Shut up Thordrek! Bjorn didn't provide!?" An elderly dwarf exclaimed, flinging a stone tablet at the armored paladin of Moradin. "Get out of here and grab a few then!"

"Can't!" Thordrek yelled back, "Bjorn's dry! You'd think she'd have the golden nectar of the god at this hour in the night, but she's got the cellars empty!"

"What?! It's only three in the morning for Moradin! She can't be without beer at three in the morning! It's blasphemy!" The elder dwarf yelled back. He rose from his chair, his clerical robes billowing as he moved with a strength not normal for one his age towards the altar of the temple. Behind the altar, a statue of Moradin stood with a perplexed expression, one hand wielding the giant hammer and the other the giant axe, both made of the finest marble available and etched with golden symbols. The stone beard of the statue held golden bands and its armor was made of colored steel plates.

"OH MORADIN! Forger of Dwarves! Destroyer of the orc blight! Supreme deity of the pantheon! Heed the call of the humblest of your servants!" The old dwarf began.

"You sure about it Tolomir!? I know the city's going to be without beer for a few days, but do you have to call the big boss?" Thordrek pointed out anxiously. The city of Mordunkas stood on the far edge of the mountain rim, furthest away from the capital of Morhadhun, the jewel of the dwarves. Still, Moradin was usually a jolly good fellow: he was pissed off only sometimes, and most of the time a good frosty beer solved the problem.

They were without beer to begin with though, so Thordrek just hoped everything would be fine.

"Shush it! Stop being such a baby Thordrek! The supreme god Moradin will bring us a solution to our problems! The weed shall not prevent us from drinking the hops' nectar! We shall feast our eyes upon the barrels of mead and beer and everyone shall know us in fame just like the prophesized one!"

The next moment, a flash of light blinded them both.

Moradin's home plane.

He had a headache, and someone was calling. Being a supreme deity had its perks, mind you. You could alter reality itself around you, making for interesting stuff and near outright invincibility, but at the same time it had its negative side. One was that you had to be listening to whatever any single being said when your name was in the sentence. So 'Moradin' was pretty much a common thing for the dwarves. They used his name in exclamations, insults, curses, spells, conjuring and offerings…He had put down his feet on naming cities after him or infants. He had enough about being called at least five thousand times an hour without having to add more to the count and risk not being the one called to begin with.

"Moradin! Give me the strength to defeat your foes!"

"Alright, divine favor to the cleric in the orcs' camp." He mumbled, blinking his eyes as he saw one of his cleric smash the head of a pretty big orc to pulp with a warhammer.

"Moradin! Grant me the wisdom to see through deceits!"

"Merchant? Oh well why not." The god muttered, snapping his fingers as the Dwarven merchant used a scroll to see through the Nystul Aura on a fake magic spell. The guards weren't pleased with the lying gnome…Moradin diverted his attention away from the scene after a few minutes, the headache was getting worse.

"OH MORADIN! Forger of Dwarves! Destroyer of the orc blight! Supreme deity of the pantheon! Heed the call of the humblest of your servants!" Moradin groaned, not another one!

"Why do they have to put all the appellatives? It's not like it changes things…well, maybe…"

"A baby…"

"Eh?" Moradin blinked. Did one of his clerics ask for a baby of all things? What did he have to do with a baby!?

"The supreme god Moradin will bring us a solution to our problems!"

"What is your problem then!?" Moradin exclaimed irate, what indeed would need a baby of all things to solve a problem!?

"The weed shall not prevent us from drinking the hops' nectar!"

"So you need what, a baby that is weeding?" Maybe they needed a young elf? Elves were pansies so there was probably an elf kid somewhere who could do the work. Or maybe a human boy? A dwarf gardener? There weren't any dwarven gardeners that he knew of…and he was the god of dwarves to begin with!

"We shall feast our eyes upon the barrels of mead and beer."

"You're starting to lose me, connection's breaking and all!" Moradin muttered angrily. Why couldn't they just get to the point!? He needed a bit more than a 'baby that is weeding'. He grumbled in irritation as he moved his ear closer to the surface.

"And everyone shall know…" The spell was actually finished there. Moradin growled angrily.

"That's it: I'm going down there in avatar form!" He yelled, starting to descend just as his ears caught the last words.

"…the prophesized one!"

Moradin sighed stopping in mid-descent, before reappearing up in his room. His hand shot through time and space and planes as he queried for a prophesized one baby that was a weed puller. This was far easier to find out. Couldn't they have come out with it sooner!?

Privet Drive

Harry pulled out a weed. The next moment a giant steel covered index and thumb grabbed him. The next split second, he was no longer in his aunt garden, pulling out weeds. He was standing on a stone altar, the weed still firmly tucked in his closed fist, as two stocky and bearded individuals looked at him in awe.

Moradin's Temple

Thordrek blinked. He rubbed his brown eyes, hoping this was some sort of hallucination. He then turned and looked at Tolomir, before yelling out loud.

"THAT'S NOT BEER YOU IDIOT!" The dwarven tongue came out as a set of lashing words that frightened Harry, who had no idea what the dwarves were talking about.

"How curious!" Tolomir exclaimed, "This must be a sign of…"

"THE BEER!" Thordrek yelled again, "Get the damn beer over here or…"

"Calm down Thordrek," Tolomir snapped back, eying him badly. "You're scaring the child." He commented, his gaze returning to the scared human boy who was apparently shivering in fright and…cold. They were after all high on the mountain, and the temple didn't have much warmth, what with the lack of magma and all.

"I'll get the boy a cloak and something to eat: he's too skinny. You sure you didn't get a poor sod off the material plane?" Thordrek grumbled as he moved towards the back of the temple, where Tolomir kept his liquor stash, his food stash, his tablet porn stash and of course the rest of the unimportant furniture and clothes.

"Grab me the Spitfire while you're at it Thordrek! I need some alcohol in me!"

Thordrek rummaged through the various drawers and cabinets, before coming out with a thick wool cloak and a clay jug. In his mouth he was holding with his teeth the sides of a glass bottle that Tolomir quickly grabbed from him to uncork before pouring a finger of it in the jug...and drinking the rest.

"Bwah! This is the stuff." Tolomir's cheeks turned slightly reddish, as Thordrek grumbled again about the unfairness of it all. He was about to grab the jug, when the cleric took it from him and roughly handed it over to the boy in question, who grabbed it by reflex more than anything else.

"What's your name boy?" Tolomir tried in common.

Harry

He didn't know in what tongue the two men were talking, but one of them was all dressed up in metal, while the other was wearing a robe of all things. He did seem to be in a church though. He had been in a church before, for an exorcism. They had travelled quite a bit away from Privet Drive for that too. He didn't know where they had ended up, but the priest had looked at him kindly and after giving him a cookie he had sent him back in the car as he had a talk to do with his aunt and uncle.

The older looking of the two men handed over to him a jug with some water in it. He smiled: sure, he had no idea where he was but this was probably a church since they were giving him stuff. The other man dropped a heavy cloak on his back that nearly sent him on the ground. It was heavy! The burly bearded man patted his back strongly while laughing and he smiled back even though he had no idea what they were saying.

The old man began to speak in different languages. He looked at him perplexed the more the tongues changed, and so Harry in the end spoke in his own…

"Where am I?"

With those words, the old man sighed and lowered his shoulders as if to signify defeat. The younger one instead laughed and went over to a library, before returning with a thick wool scroll.

The old dwarf pronounced few words as the scroll burned up in ashes, making Harry reel back in shock and stare in fright at the scene.

The small man brought his hand forward, gently lowering it on his own as he finally spoke clearly in English.

"Can you hear me?"

"Uh? Yes! Yes I can!" He replied excitedly.

"Good! Where are you from?" The man asked, and Harry found himself thinking about it.

"Privet Drive Number four!" He said with a beaming smile. Maybe it was just like that one time when Dudley had chased him and he had ended up disappearing in a tree! Only this time he had ended up in a church somewhere a bit further away…maybe he was in France? Were they talking French?

"How old are you, boy?" The priest asked.

"I'm this much!" Harry replied, showing five fingers in one hand and one more in his other.

"My you're a grown up lad then! What is your name?" The old man asked after saying something in that strange tongue to the other one.

"Harry sir, Harry Potter."

"Harry sir Harry Potter? Sir Harry Potter!?" The priest apparently turned sharply to the other one and said something scalding, since the metal dressed man nodded and ran out quickly.

"Harry," he replied with a nod.

"Harry…I am Tolomir. Warrior-Priest of Moradin, god of Dwarves." The man said again.

"Dwarves?" Harry asked curious.

"Dwarves." The man replied pointing at himself. "I'm a Dwarf, forged by the earth and iron of the mountains by our god, Moradin the wielder of axe and hammer!"

"Oh." So he was in a church of Moradin. He hoped it wasn't far away from England though. There was no way he'd get back home for Dudley's afternoon snack, but he could still manage to cook dinner.

"I need to go back." He said, as Tolomir nodded.

"We're working on it." The Warrior-Priest replied, "You know the name of the kingdom you come from?"

"England." Harry replied quickly. He knew that, his teacher had even praised him for having been first in answering the question in his class!

"Fuck." The old dwarf mumbled, wincing his eyes closed for a moment probably lost in recollection. He opened them again and shook his head.

"Uh?" Harry asked curiously.

"Damn, uh, oh…nothing!" The dwarf removed his hand from Harry's head, before starting to say something really bad in his native tongue as he headed over the library, but he didn't catch half of it since the tongue was so strange: raspy and guttural.

Harry said nothing. Still, he sniffed a bit the water in the jug. It had a strange smell, but after taking a sip of it…why was the church spinning?

Tolomir

As the boy fell down like a Kobold being hit by a heavy ballista's bolt, Tolomir growled.

"Of course the idiot had to distract me during my prayer. Moradin the almighty probably decided this was the right way to bring some sense back into the man…" The cleric groaned.

"No use standing here doing nothing!" The dwarf exclaimed to no-one in particular, "Time to find a book on this England place!" And if that didn't work, he'd have to ask a Goliath to ask a human to ask someone from the tower of Boccob down in the capital.

And if even those guys didn't know…

Well, there was a church-monastery of Pelor down below at the base of the mountain…he could leave the boy there if the Dwarven life wasn't for the small scrawny thing. Sure, he could use an extra pair of hands around, but Moradin didn't grant his powers to those who weren't dwarves, so…

Magical England

Albus Dumbledore was many things. He was the Supreme Mugwump. He was the defeater of Grindelwald. He was the only man Tom Riddle ever feared. He was that and much more, but he was also human. He was popping a lemon drop in his mouth when the strange mechanical thing meant to control the status of the wards in Privet Drive suddenly spun like mad.

The old wizard blinked in surprise, before disappearing with a sharp crack from his office. He reappeared with his robes and his wand ready in his hand, already fearing the worst. Privet Drive was unscathed and untouched however, and he could smell the perfume of food being cooked. So maybe the wards had just registered someone trying to enter? He walked to the door and politely knocked.

Petunia Dursley opened the door with a sharp jerk motion, standing with her lips tightly closed and her eyes angry.

"What is it?" She stopped for a moment, seeing the Headmaster of Hogwarts, before slamming the door shut in his face. "Get out! You promised you freaks wouldn't come!"

"Madam Dursley." Albus began slowly to speak, "Where is your nephew?"

"That's…He's in the garden, pulling out weeds." Petunia retorted from behind the door. "You want him now then take him." She hastily added.

"Nonsense my dear, I will just check on him then." Dumbledore replied with a light tone, as he began to walk around the house looking for Harry Potter. He saw some weeds pulled and laying on the grass near a few well cured hedgerows and small flowerbeds filled with flowers. When he didn't find him, however, he returned to the door to knock again.

"What is it now!?" Petunia shrieked from behind the door. Dumbledore was starting to get a bit contrite actually, but only just a bit. Certainly the woman could avoid making such a scene!

"I'm afraid young Harry is not in the garden, has he gone to any of his friends perhaps?" He asked with care.

"The freak doesn't need any friends." The sour woman replied.

"Oh Petunia, Petunia…What did I ask of you years ago? You were not forced and…"

The door sprung open nevertheless, as the woman pointed her accusing finger at the old man.

"Not forced!? Do you know what the people would have said had I delivered a baby to the hospital? To the orphanage? What do you think!? Of course I was forced to keep him! And if he's not in the garden then I don't care! He'll go without dinner for having skipped his chores!"

"Surely you jest…"

"No! And if he ran away then so be it! He's all yours!"

Dumbledore left the house with a bitter after taste in his tongue. He wasn't perfect and he knew it, but had he done so much wrong that the boy, at age six, would run away? Maybe he had been mistreated? What if the Dursley had actually abused the poor lad? He shook his head firmly: it wouldn't do to accuse people of such vile acts without proof after all. He'd need to talk with Ms. Figgs and arrange to have the house looked after with a bit more of a presence. The boy would hopefully come back before nightfall, and once he did he'd make sure he was at the very least treated like a boy his age.

If he wasn't, then he'd have no choice but to bring the boy to Hogwarts. Minerva would probably fuss about how right she had been on that night, but the blood wards had been a necessity after all: without them Harry would have probably ended up just like Neville's parents.

Still, he hoped for the boy to come back. At the very least, if it came out that he had indeed been mistreated, he needed to make amends. He hoped the boy would listen.

Some years later – 31 of October, 1989

Severus Snape was looking at the tombstone of the Potter family, albeit for him the only thing he actually cared about was a single name on that tomb: Lily's. He left a few flowers of the same name on her grave, before slowly starting to walk away. He did this every single year, disapparating from Hogwarts where the dunderheads he taught were with the blessing of the Headmaster and headed here to pay his respects. He had done much wrong in his life, and he knew it of course. He had hoped he could at least repent somehow by protecting Lily's child…but the boy had disappeared four years before.

He kept teaching students, in the sheer hope that in one year, the letter from Hogwarts would find the boy and bring him back. He had already prepared the broom actually, as had the Headmaster. They'd follow the owl to its destination. It was he began to walk away, his feet taking him to Godric's Hollow, that he heard a scream.

He stilled as his wand was already in his hand before he could even think. Its tip pointed towards the grave. Surely the scream hadn't…The scream came again, from within the tomb. Was it a ghoul? Had a ghoul managed to enter the rest place of Lily and then get trapped in there?

He looked around before bringing the tip of his wand to where the grave was, before slowly moving it and removing the earth around the coffin. Quietly, ever so, he heard the scratching noises coming from within the wooden thing…He nervously gulped down as he now heard the screams more clearly. They were words! Words from a voice he dreaded to recognize.

Was this it? Had he gone mad?

He unlocked with his wand the coffin, and stood back in wait and fear.

When Lily Potter emerged from the coffin, ragged looking and scared senseless, Severus Snape had no words.

"Sev?" She asked. She, Lily, asked him. "What…What are you doing here?" She was talking to him. She hadn't talked to him since that dreadful day years before. Now she was talking to him. She was alive, she…no. This could be a curse. A really dark one…unless he was dreaming, but then again…

"Sev!" The red haired woman exclaimed, "Why are you making that face? It's as if you've seen a…" The woman turned her head to look at the tombstone. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. The statue of her, her husband and her son stood in sight just like their names on the stone. "Ghost." She whispered, looking at her hands. "No, I'm not…I'm not dead. Sev? Sev what did you do?"

He found his breath there and then, he found it when the tone of the woman turned accusing, he found it when the voice of the woman he loved and still loved accused him of having done something.

"I did nothing. I heard you scream." He curtly snapped, "After all, Madam Potter," he sneered, "Today is the anniversary of your husband's and yours death. I just came to pay my homage." He was even going to turn and leave, but something stopped him. With a flick of his wand the dirt and the ground around James' tomb was removed, and with another flick the coffin was opened. The body of James Potter stood there, strangely pale but undoubtedly breathing.

"And apparently, someone decided to bring you both back to life." Severus muttered. Of course this was no dream. It had to be a nightmare.

"James!" Lily yelled as she wobbly got out of her coffin and walked towards her husband. He averted his gaze and conjured a patronus. He needed to warn Dumbledore after all. The old man would take care of it better than him as he had more pressing business for the night: he had to get smashed on firewhiskey. Probably an entire bottle just to be sure he would forget everything about this dreadful night.

31 of July 1991 – Seventh Month of sun, Year 20134 of the Pelorian Calendar

Archduke-Ollam Harry Potter, chosen of the Indifferent God Boccob himself, renowned master of the Bloody Arena, demon burner and axe wielder, was tired. Wielding his dwarven war-axe Bjorn he looked with haunted eyes at the blood covered and bloated figure of an undead monster. Filled with blood and bloated, it bled like a pig no matter where it was hit. The Necromancer that had brought to un-life said monsters looked with a bright smile as one of his companions fell under the heavy bulk of the biggest of his creations.

"This is." One of the heads beneath the creature's mantle spoke, "Your end." The Hooded Pupil was an Ettin, and as his hands burst forward sickly green and black colored darts, Harry flicked his left hand forward, countering the spell as the Pelor contemplative in the back finally deemed itself worthy enough of consecrating the area.

"Took you long enough Jozan!" The bard Gimble exclaimed as his song filled hope in the hearts of the adventurers.

"Me now breaks!" Krusk roared as he charged forward, his giant double orc axe swinging wildly as the barbarian struck through the flesh of the undead, a downpour of blood drenching the half-orc down to his toes. Harry groaned. It took days to convince the barbarian to wash himself: they'd have to live with the stench of rotten blood for most of the week again!

Vadania the druid whispered in Sylvan tongue as a giant celestial bear appeared from the air, roaring as it pummeled to the ground the Hooded one. The Ettin's strong arms broke free of the beast's grasp in the blink of an eye, tearing through the flesh of the bear as Harry took his cue to charge. His strength increased through the Critical Strike swift spell, his first attack tore through the Hooded One's side.

"By the will of the God of Knowledge, die!" Harry roared, his Bjorn twirling in his hand. The second attack cut through the arm of the Hooded pupil, and the third one horizontally cut the creature's chest.

"Argh!" The Ettin coughed out blood as it fell on his knees. "You…You have not won yet, Bloodaxe!" He snarled as his only remaining hand closed into a fist. "I am not…"

An arrow struck through the heads of the Ettin, throwing the creature on the ground to spasm as it died. Harry turned with an upward eye to the ranger in question.

"Soveliss." Harry deadpanned. "Did you really have to…"

"I hate death monologues." The elven ranger replied calmly.

"Is this because of your sister?" Harry retorted.

"No, of course not." The elf replied with a shrug, although he kind of did throw the arrow on his bow near a corpse that was just so casually near him.

"You know, if I had known what the spell was for."

"Oh? I thought the chosen of the God of Knowledge would know everything." Soveliss bitterly commented, before heading over the draped window of the ruined fortress the Hooded Pupil had held as a base. As light shone into the dark room, and the cold wind came from outside, Harry blinked.

The sun was shining warmly over the pine tops of the cold mountains of Asgalor, the northern Kingdom of the human territories.

"Ah-ah, you're a stick in the mud Soveliss." Vadania replied as she turned to the unlucky fellow that had fallen to the might of a Bloated one. "Poor folk. So, Jozan would you do the honor?"

"It comes out from his side of the loot I suppose." The cleric sighed, "May the warmth of Pelor return you to life, Regdar."

The fallen warrior gasped for air, as it slowly stood up.

"Last time! This is the last time I charge ahead first! Do you know how lucky I am to be alive this time!?"

"You mean…differently from the other times?" Gimble chuckled striking a tune.

"Our young fighter fought to win! Come around and listen me sing! He fought the beasts, fought the trolls, he fought the witches and fought even more! But every time he fought something big…" The bard high-pitched, "He always ended up as a corpse in a ditch! This is the tale of Regdar the warrior, mighty and fiery but also unlucky! He fought and died an even number, always ending up…what rhymes with unlucky?" The gnome asked thoughtfully.

"It lacked a lot…you know?" Harry hesitantly said as he began to ravage through the shelves for books. "When is Lidda coming back?"

"Once she's done doing whatever she had to do with that Alhandra fellow." Vadania replied, as her hands went to look through the ingredients of the Ettin necromancer.

"Shiny stuff!?" Kursk yelled, "SHINY!" The Barbarian exclaimed, his finger pointing to a mirror that was glowing a bright silver light.

"Oh?" Harry and Gimble took three seconds each to get in front of the mirror. It had been hidden by the drape of the window, and that removed…

"Well I'd say…what is this?" Regdar queried, moving closer and huffing.

"Mirror…Mirror…" Gimble began to think hard… "I've got nothing on it."

"There's a Portal spell on it." Harry replied. "It's a bit…wait, it's out of proportions…It kills anyone who goes through with a disintegrate spell…who the hell thought it funny?" The man muttered. "So, if we remove the disintegration…Ah-ha!" The Archduke smiled as he nimbly weaved the counter-spell. "Done!"

The grey-like waves cleared, to show a marble hall that seemed to be rising up. On the other side robed figures suddenly barged in the room, yelling something in a strange tongue that Harry however…he knew that tongue.

"Harry: why did you have to open a portal to enemy wizards?" Soveliss groaned, preparing an arrow, as Gimble grabbed his mandolin. Krusk happily grabbed his giant double axe as Regdar groaned with his tower shield ready. Jozan prayed to Pelor for strength as Vadania tightened her grip on the scimitar.

"You think they're Thay Wizards?" Vadania asked.

"Nah, they're not dressed in red: look at it. They're leather armed. Battlemages?" Gimble retconned.

"We go to them or let them come to us?" Jozan queried.

"The portal might be trapped on the other side." Harry retorted, "Better to have them come over here…grab the mirror Krusk, Regdar! We're bringing it back to the keep...I'll put back the Disintegrate spell on it…it's best this way." With a nod of understanding from the others, the mirror returned to its natural grey waving appearance.

"And whatever happens: do not touch it!" He snarled in Krusk direction, "Last time I had to gather all your bits for hours with Jozan!"

"Me knows." Krusk mumbled, "Me not stupid."

Magical England-Same time

Dumbledore hesitated, before bringing a pinch of floo powder to the fire, and calling for Potter Manor.

The face of Lily Potter, tear stricken and crying, and that of James Potter hard faced, were the first thing he saw. The two of them looked at him with a mixture of surprise, hope but also resentment. They had never forgiven him for what he had done, and even though he knew he probably would never be, he still had to tell them the news.

"I…There's still nothing." The Headmaster said. "The owl hasn't…He hasn't flown anywhere."

"He's…Could he be somewhere in wards?" Lily whispered hoarsely.

"It is possible," Dumbledore admitted, "But for wards more powerful than Hogwarts own magic…"

"Voldemort." James hissed. "He…"

"That is not possible." Albus replied, "Severus hasn't…"

"What Snivellus has…" The Potter head began angrily, only to stop once Lily's hand went to tighten her grasp on his arm.

"Fine." James huffed, "Unless there's nothing new, Albus…"

The Headmaster shook his head and bid his farewell, before returning in his office. He was looking out of the window with a sad gaze, when the silver doe of Severus' patronus reached his office.

"The owl is moving! I'm following! It's headed towards the Ministry!" The potions' master voice was filled with anxiousness through the Patronus, and Dumbledore suddenly jerked away from the window and back to the fire. His face came to view once more the scene, albeit now the two Potters were hugging one another.

"Albus!?" James exclaimed in surprise at seeing the Headmaster twice in such little time.

"The owl moved! Severus is pursuing it! Head to the ministry!"

And within seconds, they were all heading out.

Thunder Keep, Edge of Absalom

"Open the gates!" A servant's voice echoed through the gatehouse, as the incoming party was recognized as that of the ruler of the keep that was at the head of the party, on a bright brown tinted horse, while a cart with the covered mirror stood on the back of the procession. The gates were opened and the bridge was lowered to pass through the moat infested with water elementals loyal to the ruler of the keep. He paid them in gems after all: they had better be loyal.

Harry descended from his horse, Hazel, and smiled at the sight of his father walking over to greet him. Holding the usual beer tank in hand, Thordrek bellowed a hearty laugh.

"I told the brats you'd be back before the end of the month! They never believe their grandfather do they!?" The next instant, Harry was swarmed with children. None of them were actually his, considering he'd truly have to have had a harem to have them all. A half-orc, an elven girl, two dwarf twins, a pale looking boy and two gnomes had already charged at him, while the halfling scamp was already aiming for his pockets.

"Calm down you lot!" He exclaimed laughing. He was thirty-one years old after all: his father insisted he marry, but he knew better than to try. Not that he couldn't find a woman, considering the offers that kept on coming…but he just didn't want to marry and worry about convenience or if he was really loved or not. For the kids, he had seen too many war torn areas during the secession wars, and those he could save he had.

There was Margaret, the one hundred years old girl who was just then going through her first crushes. There was Kelvin, the Half-Orc who insisted he had sorcerer blood in him and would show them all how he would become a great magic user. The Twins were named Tolomir and Bosfar, and they actually were some sort of long distant cousins who had ended up with Thordrek, and by consequence him too, after their parents death in the Kobolds' wars.

The pale boy was Henry, and he had found him after a Bugbear razing party had sold into slavery the rest of his village. It was the only time his visit in the underworld had been fruitful for something different than delivering vengeful retribution. The drows had increased the bounty of his head by a few zeros since last time, but it had been worth it.

The two gnomes were Fizzsprocket and Trixy, more than finding them he had heard them after their parents workshop had exploded in the middle of the day. Since they had no relatives, he had taken them in.

The halfling scamp was Deftfingers, an 'independent' halfling child who hadn't been adopted…He just followed him around and just so casually lived in his keep. Harry smiled as the set of heads and arms flailing at him as he ruffled hair and pinched cheeks. The horde of kids followed him around like ducks most of the time, and so…

"Have my little ducklings been good during my absence, father?"

A chorus of whining and affirmations came from the children, and Thordrek was barely holding his smile hidden by the tankard of ale when the dwarf replied.

"Of course they have! Now, someone did put water in the elf's wine, so I think a well-done gift would be in…"

"Someone put water in my wine!?" Soveliss exclaimed, having heard the dwarf who had practically yelled the sentence to the world. "Who was it!?"

"He did you a favor I suppose." Regdar replied, "Considering you do the same every single time…"

"Really…even I can hold my wine." Vadania rolled her eyes, as she descended from the cart and began speaking with the stable boys about how to move the mirror.

"Mialee is waiting in the library by the way!" Thordrek exclaimed. "Something about a promise not kept?"

Harry wracked his brain around it for a moment, before flinching.

"Oh…the dinner."

"Oh?" The dwarf lifted an eyebrow with a small smile. "Dinner with the elf wizard? Something you ain't telling me kiddo?"

"There's nothing. She's three hundred years old father." Harry whined back as he felt heat rush to his cheeks.

"So I'm an old bat, isn't it?" Thordrek smiled.

"You're a dwarf! Dwarves don't age: they just get stockier!"

"Ah! Good! So I'm the bat then." The female voice that came from behind Harry's back made the boy wince.

"You knew she was behind me, right?" He accused his father who instead just drank from his tankard rather than answer. He did wink in his direction though, before turning to leave while whistling.

"Mialee, you know I can…" Harry began, only to be grabbed by the ear from the elven woman.

"Explain? Oh I will enjoy hearing about it later. For now you have to follow me. We've made a breakthrough on the prismatic wall's effect against the prismatic sphere, and…"

"My lord, where should we put the mirror?" A servant asked, bowing lightly with its head as he interrupted the conversation. Harry mentally jolted down the face of the man: he'd give him a raise just for that.

"In the arcane laboratory," turning to speak to the wizard once more, "Mialee that will have to wait," he hastily said. "There's this mirror. I found it and it might…you know…show the way home."

Mialee stilled for a second, looking at him with worried eyes before briskly muttering.

"You are sure?"

"Yes." He replied with a nod.

"It's not like with the Efreet right?" She added.

"I don't think so." He quickly murmured. "It seemed real and all…"

"You know what I think about it." She whispered. Bringing both her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"If you want to kiss do it somewhere private!" Gimble suddenly exclaimed, butting in on the conversation.

"We're not in a relationship!" They both snapped looking at the bard who merely displayed a lopsided grin before waving them goodbye and heading back inside the keep. He was whistling something eerily similar to the marriage tune though.

The mirror was soon brought down in the laboratory, as Mialee was told everything concerning it. She nodded, her hands already grasping the various reagents to produce the most powerful identifying spells she could cast.

"It might take me some days." She admitted, "Unless you wish to help me?"

"No." Harry admitted sadly. "If…if it's nothing, then I don't want to get burned like last time." He softly whispered the last part, as both his hands went to clap against his cheeks. "Dwarves don't get moody! They get drunk!" He hastily exclaimed to himself.

"Yes," Mialee admitted, "And elves write sad poems."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You write an awful lot of sad poems though."

"Precisely." She replied curtly.

"Is there something…"

"No." She snapped back.

"All right!" Harry raised his hands, "I don't want to…well, no, I actually want to know, but I won't ask for now!" He then turned and walked out of the laboratory, mumbling something about women.

The ducklings took a few minutes before following him, their favorite sport being imitating what he did when he was around. He could keep them out of some rooms, but in the end it was a bother and they knew what not to touch. None of them was actually any more of a child than he had been in his youth. If he told them not to touch the anvil where the dwarf smith worked, then he was sure they'd follow the rule without even asking why.

"Dad! What's the Efreet story about?" Trixy asked with her bright cheeky smile as she jumped to grab a hold of his knee, and exclaiming 'woohoo' every time he moved his leg.

"It's a long story." He replied grabbing the gnome girl and bringing her up on his shoulder. "It starts a long time ago, when I was no more than twenty-one."

"You were already a hero then?" Henry asked curious.

"No!" He replied, "I was a wet behind the ears green like the grass warrior." He mumbled, "I was hired to deliver some goods to another town, got ambushed half-way and lost the cargo. Stupidly I decided to follow the trail." He chuckled, "I was an idiot back then. Always charging head-first and thinking later. Turns out I did a good thing though: got my hands on some really nice equipment from the Hobgoblins, freed a few prisoners and got Krusk's loyalty." He opened the door to the dining hall, where the half-orc barbarian was messily eating roasted pork with his bare hands.

"Sometimes I think he's a god sent, other times I wonder if he's actually a punishment to my larder." He laughed heartily. "The Hobgoblins had stolen some shipments also from a wizard, so along the way we went to deliver them back. Mialee was an apprentice of said wizard. She joined with us when her master offered her services to us for the job done." He shrugged, "She was probably nagging him for decades to get out of the woods. Probably." He added hastily.

"We began to walk along the road and next thing you know Gimble decided to join us."

All hail the Gnome bard! All Hail the Gnome bard!

Cause he sings of riches and he sings of retards!

All hail the singer for his words ring trueeee!

All hail the bard for he's a stealer of virtue!

All hail the bard for he lights the air!

All hail the bard for he has wondrous hair!

All hail, all hail, all hail the bard!

All sing, and sing, and sing for the bard!

And if he sings well, then you should know!

Throw to him your money, or you'll lose it, so you know!

All hail the…

"Yes." Harry commented, "I still miss the silent nights since then. But he did get us out of a lot of sticky situations," he whispered, "Don't tell him that though: he already has a big enough head as it is."

His ducklings giggled, and so as he sat down near the fire of the hall with them sitting nearby, he continued his tale.

"Then we reached the town of Teren, and met with Jozan who joined us because Pelor told him to follow the Thunder-Marked," he gestured to his forehead, "and then in the nearby forest Soveliss and Vadania decided we could not be left alone in the greens." He chuckled.

"Because you don't leave people with torches alight in a green and luscious forest alone, that's why." Vadania retorted, placing a pot near the fire to cook her proverbial vegetable soup, "Especially when someone decides to try and cook roast wolf."

"It was an honest mistake." Harry groaned. "What did I know he was an animal companion?"

"The fact he did not attack you?" Vadania replied before sitting cross legged near the fire. "Or the fact he was carrying a basked with fruits in it?"

"I saw a wolf. The basket came later." He replied calmly, "Anyway don't interrupt me! As I was saying…Then, after Vadania and Soveliss joined us we met with a cursed poor guy named Regdar."

"I am not cursed!" Regdar mumbled, "Just unlucky."

"Cursed." Jozan sagely nodded as he walked in. "The moment I find out which deity you pissed off so much, I'm going to finally prove you have a curse on you."

"Anyway! As I was saying." Harry kept on talking, "We walked for a good long deal around as a group, you know? Did quests, adventures and killed enemies, animals, aberrations, dragons…"

"And in the black dragon's lair somebody met his fair!" Gimble sing-sung, as Soveliss choked on his drink.

"I didn't meet my fair! She was a dragon for Corellon! A dragon!"

"You weren't thinking that at the time did you?" The Gnome remarked, "Oh Gimble please! Write me a poem of love!" The gnome snickered imitating the ranger's voice, "And then wham! We had to save you from your love right? What was it? What big pointy teeth you have?"

"Give me five minutes to finish my story please." Harry sighed, a small grin on his lips as he rested his back against the comfortable armchair. Margaret brought him his pipe already lit, and as he thanked her he began to take small puff of the herbal tobacco Vadania made for him. It tasted nicely of vanilla and strawberry, and it did relax his headaches…especially when he was resting in his keep rather than outside fighting monsters.

"So there we go and defeat the dragon, and we find this iron bottle. The bottle holds an Efreet and you know how the rule goes: you can get wishes from them if you free them, but you have to be careful. Efreet are naturally evil, so they always try and trick you out of your wishes. So I first asked for Soveliss and Regdar back to life because of course they both had to die there and then," he heard snorts but kept on talking, "And finally the Efreet told me he had only two more wishes, the lying bastard: so I knew I could go back home and be with my parents, my real parents that is, and thus I asked for my parents to be brought back to life." He whispered the last part.

"I still don't know if he did it or not, but he had lied to me about the number of wishes." He shook his head as he took a breath of smoke, before letting it out in a circle from his mouth. "Turns out that the last wish was what he needed to be free. Once freed…" His eyes went downcast, "He escaped from the cave of the dragon and began to bring havoc in the country. He burned villages and grabbed all the loot he could. Riches, gold, money…even the daughter of the king got kidnapped by him."

"And that's where our Harry Potter, Thunder-Marked, got the quest that made him an Archduke." A tall and armored female entered the hall, carrying a shield on her back and showing a bright white smile. "And that's where I joined the company of the Thunder-Marked on its quest to right the wrongs of the world."

"Yes, yes." A female Halfling mumbled walking next to the paladin with her arms crossed, "And then of course you wouldn't have done anything without me afterwards. The greatest raid…ahem, explorer of all tombs: Lidda." The rogue winked as she flung a white colored pearl towards Harry. "For your collection!"

Harry caught the pearl deftly, before smiling back.

"Thanks Lidda. Has Krusk finished eating since I'm not hearing him?"

"He's down like a baby." The Halfling confirmed as she looked over at the completely knocked out half-orc, with the few remains of the roasted pork nearby.

"And that, my ducklings, tells the entire story of how I became what I am." Harry nodded to himself.

"And the boring part about Boccob and the wizard towers?" Mialee chuckled as she arrived at last, "You don't like to tell that story do you?"

Harry frowned before shrugging. "It's about me reading books for years. I'm sure they can survive without knowing it."

"If you say so."

"Dad, can you tell us about the Nymph then?" Margaret asked, sitting down on his lap and batting her eyelashes. "I love that story!"

"No fair! What about the siege of Morhadhun!?" Kelvin exclaimed, "You haven't told that story in ages father!"

"We want to hear about the charge of the Defenders!" The dwarf twins muttered vividly.

"I want to know about the Manticore and the Sphinx and how you tricked them again," Deftfingers pointed out politely.

"And the fight with the Necromancer?" Henry asked.

"And what about the time you blew up that mine?" Fizzsprocket queried.

"No! I want to know about the…"

Harry groaned and took another mouthful of smoke. He enjoyed his family and his free time…but the headaches he had…

Magical Britain – One day Later.

Lily Potter was looking at the Veil. James was standing close to his wife and holding her tightly. Albus was speaking with Cornelius Fudge and the Wizengamot members that were representing some of the major old houses. There was Lucius Malfoy standing like the ponce he was and talking to Fudge just as Dumbledore did the same. There were Amelia Bones and Augusta Longbottom looking over from the side, and there also were a few aurors. Even mad-eye Moody had been called back for this particular event, and a few Unspeakables were nervously circling the hall like vultures.

Perched atop the veil, the owl of Hogwarts stood in wait. The letter it held within its beak was something that no-one had managed to grab from it, and in the end it was decided to wait.

Suddenly, a gasp echoed through the room as everyone turned to look at the veil changing its color. From its normal surface it turned crystal clear, to reveal a courtyard. In front of the mirror stood an armed figure with a thick and big shield and a lance, and slowly ever so the figure moved forward. The lance passed through the mirror with ease, but as soon as it did the owl woke up and flew down.

The armored figure cursed in a strange tongue and tried to hit the owl, but it passed through and reached to the other side.

The figure went back in just as Lily tried to say something, and the mirror returned to its grey coloring.

"The owl went through!" Albus exclaimed, "Harry Potter is on the other side of the Veil then!"

"Together with whatever brutes there are…" Lucius drawled out, "Does that mean the veil is now walkable?"

"That's impossible…" Cornelius whispered in awe, "What about all those we condemned to death through it then? Are they still alive?"

"So he's with criminals then." Lucius smirked, "Maybe they…"

"Malfoy, you want to duel?" James snapped at the blond haired ponce. "I've got no qualms in solving your problems with a nice placed curse up your…"

Thunder Keep, Edge of Absalom

"An owl?" Mialee sarcastically commented as Harry grabbed the letter from the owl in question. "With a letter?"

"It's addressed to me." Harry replied with surprise, as he looked at what the letter said.

To Archduke-Ollam Harry Potter.

Thunder Keep, Edge of Absalom.

Material Plane.

"It's a letter for…a Wizard school?" He muttered incredulously. "You know nothing about it, Mialee? Gimble? Jozan? Anyone heard of this Hogwarts?" He looked around to stare at the faces of the others, who looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking their heads.

"Thought so." He mumbled. "Still…Mialee, bring down the spell once more: I'll talk with them. If they're from…England, I'll know. The letter's written in English so…maybe I'm right. I hope I am." He whispered as he walked towards the mirror. "Launch Tongues and choose English Mialee! I'd better have a second one to hear if my own Tongues ends up with a second meaning." The elf woman nodded, and then moved closer herself.

Within seconds, the color returned crystal clear.

His eyes looked with surprise at the people on the other side. There was an old white bearded man who was looking at him with a strange twinkle in his teary eyes. A man with blond hair looking shocked just like the other man near him, and two persons closer to the mirror. One of them had red hair and green eyes, and was a woman, while the other had darker hair and a pair of glasses…and he looked eerily similar to him.

He took a deep breath before wielding his Bjorn in his right hand and nodding to Mialee, his face turning serious.

"If I'm not back in five minutes, send in the Krusk!" He half-heartedly laughed as Krusk punched his breastplate with a nod, while Soveliss held his bow ready to fling arrows.

"We've got your back Harry!" Vadania laughed, "Now stop being a pansy and go!"

With a nod and a smile, Harry James Potter walked through the mirror and landed in the veil room, Bjorn in hand as he looked at the surprised faces of the robed people near him.

Mialee walked next to him after a few seconds, her gnarled staff in hand as she pondered on the situation. The robed figures could be wizards or sorcerers, she'd have to launch an anti-magic zone…but she could use teleport without fault, and if worse came to worse she'd just get both her and Harry out of there and back in the mirror.

"Stay close to the mirror." Harry whispered to her, "We jump back in if they're hostile." Then, Harry coughed slightly.

"Somebody in here wrote me a letter?" He asked loudly, his eyes travelling around the room as he lifted with his free hand the envelope.

The dreadful silence would have made the sound of a fly loud. Nobody spoke for a second, before the sobbing and wailing of the red haired woman filled the air.

"Harry? Is that you?" The woman asked, walking slightly closer.

"Not another step!" Mialee exclaimed narrowing her eyes. "Answer the question first!"

"How rude!" Lucius muttered. "She has…pointed ears? Be careful minister! She's a monster!" As the blond haired man took out his wand, a sharp thunk was heard as an arrow embedded itself deeply into the shoulder of the Malfoy head. The man screamed as from behind the mirror Soveliss took a step forward.

"Someone else wants to make a strange move!? Come on! I've got arrows to spare!" He spoke in elven, his eyes narrowing. "We're surrounded, so I suggest we move backwards. Krusk is ready on the other side."

"Calm down! Lower your wands!" Dumbledore yelled to the wizards.

"Do as he say!" Amelia snapped, turning her head to the aurors who reluctantly obeyed.

"Would someone explain the letter, then?" Harry asked again carefully. "You are not making a good impression at the moment…are you a cabal?" He queried, "And where are we on the Material Plane?"

"My boy," Albus spoke hesitantly, as he took a slight step forward. "This is England. This isn't…"

"England?" He raised an eyebrow. "Prove it. Bring me Aunt Petunia, or Dudley, or Vernon Dursley."

"Harry…I'm your mother." Lily said with her throat choking from the emotion, "You're…You're my son."

"Did he ask for that woman?" Mialee snarled, "He asked for proof, not words! You are not the first to claim such a thing! Who wouldn't want to be the mother of the Archduke of Thunder Keep, second only to the King of Teren!? Bring proof or we will leave."

Soveliss slightly chuckled in elven. "Worrywart."

"Shut up you." Mialee snapped back. "Last time he was heartbroken."

"I can hear you two." Harry sighed, rolling his eyes. Mialee could be such a mother hen sometimes…

"Archduke?" Cornelius Fudge asked hesitantly, "King? Excuse me, but is there…a kingdom behind the veil?"

"Cornelius, let me go and get Harry's aunt," Albus spoke carefully, "It would be best not to keep him waiting. If they leave, we might not get another chance…Time seems different on the other side."

Cornelius nodded, and as Dumbledore disappeared Harry's eyes narrowed on the rest of the people present.

"What are your names?" Harry finally asked. "You seem to know me, but I do not know yours."

"Oh! I'm Cornelius Fudge, prime minister of the magical world!" Cornelius exclaimed, happily striding forward but stopping himself when Krusk and Regdar pushed their head through the mirror.

"Everything's all right Harry?" Regdar asked. "Five minutes have passed by now."

"Uh? Oh yes." He nodded, "Might be a sorcerer cabal with illusions. Right now I'm asking them about my aunt. I never described her to anyone so…"

With a loud crack, Albus Dumbledore was back together with a sour looking Petunia.

Harry held his breath. His green eyes looked with shock at the woman that he could only call Madam, because if he tried anything else he'd get to bed without food in the cupboard. He looked with shock at her, and at the portly man that was clearly uncle Vernon. He then set his gaze on the child near them that was Dudley in all but age. He nearly coughed on his own saliva as he nervously nodded.

"I think…I think this is England." He whispered with his throat hoarse from emotion.

Mialee looked warily from him to the rest of the people in the hall, and then seemed to nod to herself.

"All right." She said, "Now you," The wizard pointed at Petunia, "Tell us if she is his mother." She then pointed at Lily and Harry respectively.

Petunia paled at being called and gestured at, but she calmly nodded after a few moments spent looking at the man.

"Y…Yes. My…sister is…Harry's mother." She muttered out through clenched teeth. "Can we leave now?" She asked to Albus, who was about to nod when a loud noise interrupted them.

Harry had reached with his hand to Vernon's throat, and was seemingly lifting him up with ease.

"I am an Archduke of the King of Teren. My will is law along the Edges of the mountains of Absalom, my reign is prosper and my followers happy. I am not a good for nothing freak uncle, and may Boccob the Indifferent keep on reading, because if you'll ever dare think again what you are thinking now…I will kill your family, tear apart all that you possess and scatter your very own limbs in the four corner of the world before leaving you to beg and rot away in the deepest pits of the Abyss."

And then with an inhuman ease, Vernon Dursley was flung against the stone floor of the room.

"This is England." He finally exclaimed, "Now I want answers."

In the shocked silence that followed, Krusk decided to make his own opinion known by clapping.

Harry merely smiled. This was one of the reasons he loved having Krusk in his party. He always knew the right thing to say or do depending on the situation…half of the time. The other half he probably improvised with what he had.

"What was he thinking?" Mialee asked curiously, her staff poised to strike if the need arose.

"Nothing important, nothing important at all." He replied with a shrug.

"You cannot be serious!" Lucius yelled as the wound on his shoulder had been closed in the few minutes that had passed by. "I was attacked in here, by that creature! I demand her to be put down for…"

"The next arrow you fling Soveliss, you may aim for his throat." Harry pointed out nonchalantly. "I am sure they can change the bigot with another one."

"Now listen here…" Cornelius began hesitantly, "Lord Malfoy is…"

"Oh, he's a Lord?!" Harry exclaimed in surprise, jerking to the side to look at Lucius from head to toe. "Sorry. I didn't know that…well then…" He removed a satin glove from his pocket and walked forward with purpose. Before any could blink, Lucius Malfoy was slapped by said glove.

"Challenge I do thus you to duel, Lord. You have wronged my retinue and my followers for the last time." Harry spoke clearly. "Unless you wish to beg forgiveness?"

"Harry!" James exclaimed, having finally recovered his voice. "You can't fight Malfoy without a wand!"

"Why is that?" Mialee asked, curiously. "He killed a dragon with an axe. I'm sure he'll manage without a wand."

"He killed a what?" Lily mumbled shaking her head.

"A dragon…certainly you don't think he was made Archduke because of his good looks?" The elven wizard replied with the hint of a smirk. "Lord Malfoy is a dead man's walking. Unless he apologizes that is…"

"Please! Could we stop this and talk like rational persons?" Dumbledore asked, "This is an extraordinary meeting of different worlds, we should not have a war as a first thing."

"I'd listen to whitebeard over there." Mialee sagely nodded. "You're what? A dozen or two? I don't know you, but we've got an army in our keep and if you so much as touch a hair of our lord you won't get far with peace talks, let me tell you…He's next in the line of the throne after all, if he marries the damn girl."

"I'm not marrying the damn girl Mialee." Harry groaned, "Can you drop the argument? I'm in the middle of making history!"

"Gimble is going to have a field day when he hears about this." The female elf sighed.

"Krusk wants to break blond guy!" The half-orc exclaimed. "Can Krusk be champion!?"

"Did the charming good fellow say he'd greatly like peace talks?" Albus said pointing his gaze at the Half-Orc who was smiling widely.

"No, he actually asked to be my champion during the duel." Harry retorted. "But he wouldn't make it a quick death so I usually reserve him to my enemies." The dark haired man shrugged, "But you are right…We should talk rather than fight. For this time, I'll spare the blondie."

Harry walked down and towards the veil, "But there won't be another time. If you want to conduct negotiations, then please come over on your time. I'll have to warn my King about this."

And then, with a curt nod of the head, he walked back into the veil. Mialee entered last, but the veil no longer assumed the grey colored form that it usually held. It kept being crystal clear, and showing the courtyard of what was a probable Keep somewhere.

With a deep breath, Albus broke the silence.

"Well! The Boy-Who-Lived is fine!" The next moment, Lily Potter had dashed through the veil, soon followed by James Potter.

"Ah…Well…" Dumbledore nervously muttered, "Let's give the family some time?"

Author's notes

Just had this plot idea in my head. Don't know if I'll follow through it but since I had this in the hard drive for a while…