Chapter One: Justice is best served...slimy

'...and if I pointed the directory sigil towards the main configuration, it would probably be self-sustainable for several months, but the power loss would be…' his train of thought cut off when his escorts roughly tethered him to the floor, forcing him to his knees. He glanced at the two in slight bemusement, as if two no-name aurors, could really take him down. 'Do they really think they could hold me here?'

He watched idly as people filtered into the courtroom, before the judge presiding, began to speak.

"Mr. Harry James Potter, with the charges concerning the fulfillment Prophecy C-743 dropped, you are still charged with sixty-two counts of murder in the first, nine charges of arson, the destruction of fourteen noble houses, seven breaches of the statute of secrecy, three charges of treason, obstruction of justice, and the public defamation of the ministry during a time of crisis."

"Murderer!" Wailed an unidentifiable woman in the crowd.

"You killed my son you bastard!" Screamed another quite portly man, his fist shaking in the air, and his large mustache bouncing slightly as he shook.

He had to suppress a laugh, he knew this was supposed to be a serious affair, but that man looked far too idiotic not to laugh.

"I hope the dementors choke on your soul!"

He looked up at the rest of the crowd, and recognized a few faces. None he knew personally, as most of those people were dead, and those who weren't, well...suffice to say he hadn't exactly announced where he'd be going...or engaged in a real conversation in years, so yeah...maybe his inner voice liked monologuing to make up for his crippling loneliness.

Nonetheless, he was Harry-fucking-Potter! They should have all thanked him for his service, hell they should've renamed the Order of Merlin after him! Honestly, he was only twenty-seven years old and he'd been working on saving the wizarding world for sixteen years. That was more than half his life!

"You have denied the services of a public defendant, and chosen to defend yourself. How do you plead Mr. Potter?"

'That's the thing about prophecies, I guess, the story doesn't end when it's fulfilled, and the bad guys don't go away just because you killed their asshat of a leader.'

Harry let the question hang in the air, taking the time to observe the courtroom and its occupants. 'Four aurors, two by the door, and two by the podium,' from beneath the shadow of his messy hair he carefully plotted his escape. He glanced down at his binds, peering through his glasses as they revealed the true nature of things. The chains were warded against magic and simultaneously strengthened by it, but only one enchantment worked at a time so that they wouldn't tamper with one another, it was a negligible flaw really, but for Harry Potter it just so happened to be his ticket out of there.

The raven-haired teen raised his head, the numerous enchanted chain links binding him rattling as he did so.

"Mr. Potter?"

"How do I plead?" He coughed slightly, his features twisting into a grimace momentarily. Despite their supposed 'fair' treatment of him while he was in custody, they routinely avoided bringing him water. The food he was granted wasn't much better either, he almost wished they deprived him of that too. Thinking more on it now, he could go for something to eat. 'A problem for later I suppose.'

He eyed the two so-called aurors standing guard at the podium. "Well when you list the charges like that it seems clear to me..." he let the statement hang for a moment as he wet his lips slightly, "that this court, and the ministry that supports it, is utterly fucking incompetent, so not guilty!" he sneered, doing his best Malfoy impression, while simultaneously flipping off the entire courtroom on both hands. "And you know what? My only regret is that I didn't do it sooner!"

"You're gonna burn for that Potter!"

"How dare he!"

"Send him to bloody Azkaban and be done with it!"

Hearing the deafening cries of his loving fans the judge slammed his gavel down, a wave of silencing magic flowing from the object to serve its purpose, exactly as Harry had intended.

The wave of power was invisible to most, but Harry was no ordinary wizard, no he was a veritable badass with wizardly superpowers the world had never seen...or he'd had a lot of crazy smart mentors who had taught him a few tricks.

Either way, he anticipated the magic as it washed over him, and just as the runes on the chains flashed blue, suppressing the new magic, he pulled with all his might, stretching the chain links closest to the ground and freeing himself, the enchantment on the chains breaking with an audible snap as he ruthlessly exploited their only loophole.

He stumbled forward two steps before having to dodge a red stunner screaming towards him. He contorted his body in a painful maneuver he would definitely be feeling later, and lashed out with his chains at the two podium aurors, utilizing the chains as if as if they were his fire-whip spell.

One ducked under his assault, but the other wasn't as quick on the uptake, a heavy metal bludgeon slamming into his neck and crushing his windpipe, sending him into unconsciousness.

He doubled his attack on the remaining auror, trying to capture her.

The heavy chains failed to wrap around his targeted auror, but they did smack her on the side of the head fairly hard, dazing her enough to enact the next part of his barely-pieced-together escape plan.

He snagged her wand and got behind her, batting away her attempts to counterattack, as with most wizards and witches, she was physically inept without a wand, unable to fend off someone who was trained in unarmed combat such as he was. Perhaps she was slightly less so due to being an auror, but still very much weaker than him nonetheless. He quickly conjured ropes around his hostage, ensuring her continued helplessness.

The entire impromptu battle had taken place in a matter of seconds.

The two remaining aurors fell into a defensive position, one of them transfiguring a stone wall for cover, and were restricted to firing stunners, so as not to wound their compatriot who was being held captive.

Harry made good use of his pseudo-shield and used her immobile body to block any stunners he couldn't dodge, a moment later, a single high powered blasting curse, blew apart the aurors' hastily transfigured cover, peppering them with stone shrapnel, concussing them, and knocking them out.

Having dealt with the most immediate issues in record time, Harry quickly spun about to face the only possible remaining threat in the room, the judge, who was slowly reaching for his wand.

Harry smirked. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The judge stopped his advance immediately, having seen the aurors felled so easily, and raised his chubby hands, they shone with sweat as the man shook nervously, it gave him a rather slimy appearance. "I surrender!"

A flash of inspiration took hold of Harry and he brandished the wand at the paling judge, swiftly turning him into a purple slug.

Finally finished, he observed the room with the satisfaction of a plan gone right, not that they often went wrong, but that was just his accursed Potter luck, the ability to get out of particularly sticky situations, but the propensity to find himself in them to begin with. 'This almost reminds me of that time in fifth year when-'

"Get him!"

Harry glanced up.

The people in the stands were all on their feet, with their wands drawn, not that it mattered, as the magical barrier separating them from Harry was still intact, and easily repelled the untrained wands that attempted to curse him.

His stolen wand responded to him well enough, but still, he felt it humming in his hand, vibrating with displeasure, a sure sign that it wasn't suited to him well, and likely wouldn't last to the end of the day if he didn't properly regulate his power flow.

'Gotta get deeper.'

Left arm wrapped around the auror's throat he pointed the wand at the door and began frog-marching her out. "This next bit's gonna be a tad harder," he muttered to himself, gritting his teeth.

Blasting the doors wide open he elected to completely bypass any plans of stealth and instead go for complete and utter disarray.

It appeared an alarm had been sounded, there were several dozen aurors all sprawled throughout the building, each gunning for him from a different angle.

So Harry did what every misunderstood, survival-worthy, slightly unhinged, storybook hero would do...and ran to his destination like a madman.

The aurors watched in shock as Potter completely ignored them and ran down an adjacent hallway. "After him!"

Frigid blue light emerged from an angry wand and caused ice to form, lining the floors of the ministry, and restricting any aurors who attempted to chase after him to a shuffling pace lest they slip.

Birds and beasts sprung up from everything, one auror's cloak turning into a large Boa Constrictor and wrapping itself around him, much to his great dismay.

Were a certain Scottish professor, with a fondness for felines, still among the living she would compare his transfiguration prowess to his father's, perhaps even saying he'd surpassed him.

Finally, he reached his desired location and with a cheeky grin to his unwilling companion and a shove that sent her sprawling away, he disappeared behind the heavily enchanted door that led into the Department of Mysteries.

Shutting the door with a flick and proceeding to levitate everything nearby to blockade it, he finally gave himself a moment to rest, catching his breath.

He turned around and marched through another passageway to view his prize, that which had led him to the very bowels of the ministry.

The Veil of Death, an artifact that had allegedly claimed his godfather's life, an artifact he had researched for years, and found no evidence that could disprove instantaneous death upon entry, until he'd visited Grimmauld Place one fateful evening and found that the Black Family tree didn't quite get the memo that Sirius was supposed to be dead.

That's what had started him on this journey, a simple hunch, one that had lead him to every font of magical knowledge in the world. From the Library of Alexandria in Egypt, to the Salles de Connaissance Magique in France. His extensive studies had revealed the true nature of the 'Veil of Death,' it was an archaic form of transportation that was discontinued due to a lack of reliability, as it routinely lost wizards in other dimensions, and because of the ease of modern apparition.

He reached out to place a hand on the arch, burning green runes, ones he had painstakingly catalogued and interpreted over the years, coming alight at his touch, responding to the intent of a man who would finally properly utilize the ancient tool, and began to step through before he stiffened, halting his movement at the wand placed against his neck.

"Not one more step. Harry Potter you're under arrest...again," stated Neville Longbottom, as he dispelled the illusion that had masked him, revealing himself in all his red-robed auror splendor. "Figured you'd be coming here, now drop the wand," he nudged his own focus into the man's neck, making him drop the stolen item, the thick wood clattering noisily in the stone chamber.

Curious despite the situation, Harry's left eyebrow went up a degree, and he turned slowly with his hands raised, facing his former classmate. "You figured I'd break out of my chains, run rampant through the halls, embarrass Britain's finest, and dig myself deeper into the ministry?"

Neville shrugged, "you've been obsessed with this thing for years," he gestured at the arch and veil with a nod, "and also, you're Harry Potter."

"That I am, that I am," muttered Harry, a hint of bitterness present in his tone.

Neville's semi-professional demeanor dipped as he regarded his one time friend with reproach. "Why'd you do it Harry?" Silence was all that met him, so the man attempted another approach. "Why did you keep going, keep killing—murdering even when the war was won?"

"Voldemort may have been dead, but the war was far from won, even if I was the only one still fighting it," he glared at Neville, "Death Eaters and their sympathizers running rampant throughout the country, officials being paid off to look the other way, the aurors too drunk on victory and bribe money to do anything about it. People were getting complacent again, ignoring horrible things in favor of returning to their ideal 'peace.' It was becoming just like it was after the first time I killed him, the Death Eaters settling into the background and running our society into the ground from the shadows, while they waited for another so-called 'Dark Lord' to rise!"

Neville shook his head sadly. "You know that our laws were being reformed, with Kingsley as our minister they would have been brought to justice eventually, what you did, that was murder, hell, most of them you killed in their sleep, giving them no chances to surrender, at that point it was just senseless slaughter."

"I was efficient in wiping out a blight that had its grip on wizardkind for far too long," stated Harry resolutely. "Can you honestly say that our society hasn't benefited from it?"

Neville could see that arguing that route would amount to nothing, but still, he was an officer of the law and had made an oath, so he attempted another route, maybe an admission of remorse would reduce some of Harry's several lifetime sentences. "And what would Ron and Hermione think?"

Immediately the man realized he'd made a mistake.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees and despite still having the raven-haired man at wand point, and at his mercy, Neville felt as if he was in more danger than he'd ever been in before. The rest of the room seemed to fade away as Neville's gaze was drawn towards a pair of narrowed emeralds, practically aglow with malice.

The sheer power that rolled off of Harry in nearly visible waves set his teeth on edge. He was no longer in the presence of Harry Potter, the man who jumps into action with a laugh, who pranks people just to entertain himself, no he was facing a much different foe now. This was the Harry Potter that broke out of unbreakable magical suppression cuffs, who'd managed to hold an entire battalion of aurors at bay with a stolen wand, this was the man who had defeated the Dark Lord.

Neville hadn't been there towards the end, no his values had led him down a different path. So instead, he'd heard the stories, just like everyone else, how Harry Potter had dueled Lord Voldemort in the highest tower, for a night and a day as Hogwarts burned and crumbled around them, and at long last a serpentine face was impaled on a spike and an ethereal stag appeared in the night sky, a snake crushed underhoof, signifying the true end of a decades long conflict between the Pureblood Regime and the commonwealth.

To this day, nearly six years later, the ancient castle's smoldering ruin resisted any attempts at diagnostic magics. The only person who knew what had gone down was right in front of him, and he'd gone and pissed him off by mentioning his very dead best friends.

'Shit.'

Any remnants of playfulness that lingered from Harry's typical demeanor, faded to nothing. In its place a deep seated grudge finally bared its terrifying teeth, and a cold fury seeped out in his words, as each word was enunciated slowly in a chilling whisper. "Do not say their names, you have no right, you were not there, you did not see what I saw," the anger in his eyes faded slightly as his mind continued its thought train, 'did not do what I did.'

'No, but I've read the files,' Neville thought to himself, 'bodies mauled to the point where the Gringotts goblins needed to get involved to identify them through blood, and more disturbingly the lingering presence of twisted dark magics, not the kind that the ministry banned for general safety, no this was old-world stuff,' Neville shivered slightly at the report he'd forced himself to read in memory of his classmates.

He had known Harry from their days at Hogwarts, where the prodigious teen demonstrated a talent and propensity for the magical arts unseen since the days of Dumbledore's youth. Before his defeat of the Dark Lord, he was more widely acclaimed for his attainment of mastery level in various fields before even graduating. If one knew nothing of Harry Potter's past, his achievements in academia alone were enough to impress. During the war, Potter had eluded ministry inquiry, and worked with his own team to end the Dark Lord.

Always at his back were his closest friends, Hermione Granger, whose talents lay more in theory and research than applied magic. And Ronald Weasley, who was often seen as the 'dunce' of the trio, but had a particular knack for coming up with outlandish yet successful battle strategies.

In fact Neville had heard talk that the infamous Battle of Cardiff, where Ron Weasley had orchestrated an impossible win against a horde of inferius, using only a neighboring herd of thestral, some dead rodents, and several sticking charms, was now being included in the Auror Academy's strategy lectures.

Neville shook his head lightly, trying to focus on the task at hand. But quite honestly, it was incredibly uncanny for one such as he, who had known the trio in school personally. For the typically mild-mannered Harry Potter to fall to cold-blooded murder in the wake of his final victory, spoke of an unhinged madman who was nearly as bad as the Dark Lord he had slain.

The only sure fact was that four days after Weasley and Granger's bodies were found, the war had ended, Harry Potter had disappeared for a time, and then the killing began.

Only a couple here and there at first, each dying in different ways.

Seemingly normal people, all found with a dark mark on their arm, or financial records linking them to the Dark Lord.

Draco Malfoy, found dead in his family manor, decapitated messily with a curse.

The entire Carrow family, poisoned in their sleep.

Other residences of known and unknown sympathizers and supporters, torched to the ground with their owners inside.

There was no reasoning or pattern behind his actions, and he worked alone, so they never had a chance to pin down his target. With each attack Harry grew bolder and bolder eventually to the point that he abandoned any guise of stealth at all, he attacked in broad daylight, easily disabling any aurors who appeared to impede him.

This continued unchecked for another three years until the attacks had suddenly ceased. Harry Potter disappeared once again for several months, before three days ago, when he'd appeared inside the lobby for the ministry of magic, his own wand snapped in two, and willingly surrendering, his only demand was to a fair trial.

His exact words were, 'grant me the fair trial that you denied my godfather.'

This had roused Neville's suspicions, so he'd placed himself in the Department of Mysteries just in case.

Which leads to the current situation.

Even with his wand inches away from Potter's neck, tip aglow with a stunner waiting to be unleashed, he couldn't help but feel like a niffler who'd stupidly snuck into the den of a dragon.

Those fiery emerald eyes were narrowed at him, each person waiting for the other to make a move, before Neville came to his senses and shouted his intent. "Stupe-urgh!"

A swift knee to the chest had winded him. 'Damn it! I shouldn't have gotten so close!'

Harry's stolen wand flew into his palm and with a sweep of it, Neville went flying back, hitting against the stone chamber's walls.

Neville gasped as his own wand, much to his dismay flew from his slackened grip and into Harry's outstretched fingers.

"Thank you for the spare, I don't think this one will last me much longer," he said wagging around the first wand he'd pilfered. He slapped a hand against the archway, the runes igniting once more, and with a parting wave, Harry Potter disappeared from the Earth forevermore, his mind focused on one directive.

'Take me to Sirius Black.'

(Line Break)

The color's that raced by were migraine-inducing, particularly since the enchantments on his glasses attempted to decipher things they were not meant to, an obnoxiously bright flash of purple forced him to shut his eyes, which was unfortunate as he never saw the ground before he hit it.

With a groan of pain, Harry slowly pried himself off the floor, feeling very faint as he did so, only to come face-to-blade with a whole slew of red-armor-wearing, pointy-item wielding-warriors.

"Anaria shola?"

With those foreign sounding words came the realization, that these were definitely not humans. Looking at their long slender ears, and their glowing green eyes Harry summed up all his thoughts into three eloquent words. "What the fuck?"

The one closest to him jabbed him with his pike, hard enough to hurt but not enough to pierce him.

"Watch your tongue, human!"

Harry's spirits brightened immediately. "You speak english?!"

At the word 'english' he got several blank stares.

The one at the lead spoke up again. "No, we are speaking the common tongue."

"Pretty sure this is english."

"Then you are incorrect."

"Sure, sure, whatever," Harry took in the sight of the forces that surrounded him once again, and, ensuring that both his wands were hidden up his sleeves, he raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm unarmed."

Most of the guards left after he was lightly searched, following a subtle hand signal by the man, who was clearly their leader, leaving him with the one who had talked to him to begin with

"What business do you have in Quel'thalas? And how did you bypass all the patrols?"

Harry stared at the man in confusion. He'd been surrounded pretty much as soon as he got here. "You did see me appear out of thin air, right?"

"Invisibility is an easy enough spell to master," the man demonstrated by vanishing his hand momentarily. "Especially for spell-breakers such as myself, perhaps your abilities are enough to rob the average human town, but it is not nearly enough to fully bypass the defenses of Silvermoon." He eyed Harry with challenge clear in his eyes, his lance still poking into Harry's side, as if daring him to prove otherwise.

"Are you calling me a thief?" Questioned Harry idly, looking around he eyed the tranquility of the trees which occasionally dropped golden leaves, and the grass that was greener than he thought possible.

'This place is beautiful.'

"You sneak into Quel'thalas undetected and enter the Eversong Wood, evading every patrol from the borders to Sunstrider Isle, and you challenge the validity of my claim?"

Turning back to his interrogator he nodded mockingly. "Aye! So what's your name just so I stop referring to you as the red arsehole with a lance poking me in-between the ribs?"

"Unthinkable! You humans are as arrogant as ever. You have the honor of addressing Captain Aeldon Sunbrand of the esteemed Blood Hawks!"

Harry had to admit, the incredibly arrogant man had pizzazz, but he was crazy if he thought his introduction would top Harry's. A quick flourish of his wrist had a wand in his grasp once more, some swift casting had the lance poking him more deeply as the magic set its wielded on edge, a soft wind rifling through Harry's hair and billowing his cloak, as well as giving him the patented Dumbledorian Twinkle-eye effect. "I am Harry James Potter, a wizard from a faraway land with an urgent mission that brings me to this...forest," he finished on a lame note. 'Gotta work on the presentation.'

"You are fortunate that I sensed no ill intent in your mana, else I would have ended you on the spot."

"Yes that is quite fortunate," Harry swallowed past the block in his throat and gently pushed away the lance with a finger, debating his next words for a moment, before proceeding with what felt natural, "now let's cut through the pleasantries and get to the point. I'm not a thief, I haven't seen what I came for yet, and I'm not from this world." Let it be known that Harry Potter was about as subtle as a rampaging Nundu.

Sunbrand's face looked shocked momentarily at Harry's last words, and he examined his captive's face for any sign of untruth but found none, eventually with a sigh, he pulled back his weapon. "If what you say is true, you may prove invaluable to the blood elves. You will accompany me to Silvermoon and speak with the Regent Lord."

'They're called blood elves? That's kinda hardcore,' was the first thought to enter Harry's mind, before he then proceeded to weigh his options. He may have been a slightly overconfident, reckless, gallantly fearless badass, in his own incredibly humble opinion, but that was back on Earth, where he was basically top dog, at least as far as he knew, so suppressing his rather Gryffindorish instinct of questioning the blood elf spellbreaker in front of him, he nodded and followed after the elf as he broke into stride.

The quiet that had descended upon them got Harry's mind back to why he was originally here, Sirius. "Not really where I imagined he'd be," mused Harry. 'Not a veela in sight, nor any fire hydrants.'

"What?"

Harry, suddenly regaining his wits, and turned to face the man. "Say, you haven't seen another human come through here, right? Would've been about eleven maybe twelve years ago now. Or maybe even just a big black dog frolicking about?"

"There have been no other humans in Quel'thalas since the undead scourge attacks, four years ago. Wherever your friend is, he is not here."

The duo fell into silence once more.

Harry withdrew a wand and uttered his spell softly. "Point me Padfoot."

The wand seemed to spasm, pointing one way then the other before starting to erratically spin in circles, finally the poorly matched wand put itself out of its own misery and caught fire, burning itself to ashes.

He watched in slight confusion as the grey ash seeped through his fingers. 'I made sure not to use too much magic!' He shook his hand out, dislodging the ash. 'Been here ten minutes and that's already one wand down.'

Aeldon looked over at Harry, his interest piqued in the magic he'd felt. "Whatever scrying magic you have attempted will not work within the borders of Quel'thalas, but it is impressive that a human such as yourself has managed to learn such an obscure form of magic."

Harry glared in slight annoyance, at the back of the unflappably arrogant blood elf. 'Would've been nice to know this place is warded, before the damn ward ate my wand.'

The pair cleared the forest, and in the distance a bridge appeared, leading Harry to note that they were in fact on an island.

Crossing the rather short bridge to the other side, Harry took one step onto the land on the opposite side, and that's when the otherwise tranquil environment broke.

Dozens of hunchbacked, claw-handed, pale grey humanoids swarmed towards them.

Harry's escort swore loudly. "By the Sunwell! The wretched are coming!"

Harry inspected the 'wretched,' he may not have his best friend's inquisitive mind, but he was no slouch when it came to observation in combat situations. 'They're wearing clothes, and some of them are in similar armor to the captain. Are they a different sort of blood elf?'

Pushing aside his immediate concerns, Harry fell into place next to the captain, who clearly had experience with these things.

With a flourish and a hiss, a long whip of fire sprouted from the length of his pilfered wand. The heat it emitted was rather shocking in the otherwise cool autumnal air of Quel'thalas.

A sweep of his wielding hand had several of the wretched falling back, but in the distance Harry saw that even more of the humanoid figures were approaching.

Sunbrand looked over to him, in the midst of eviscerating an attacker, whilst fending off another with a kick. Eyes frantic he shouted at Harry. "No magic, they are attracted to mana! And try not to kill too many of them."

Harry frowned in annoyance, before nodding his understanding. He gathered every iota of his magical presence, and with an infusion of his will, directed all of it inwards, masking it within himself. He hated doing this, it made him feel so...cold, like a warmth you never knew was there, was suddenly gone.

The effects were immediate, the wretched who had been pursuing him, were suddenly ignoring him completely, most of them shambled away once more, meanwhile a few lagged behind to harass the captain, who swiftly dealt with them.

Digging his weapon into the ground, the elf looked to the human. "I've never seen a mage mask their presence so completely, for a moment I thought you were dead!"

Harry smiled faintly at the man, even as his mind was racing with information. 'So a simple occlumency exercise is considered impressive, but he wandlessly turns his arm invisible and acts as if its commonplace? This place is utterly backwards!'

"What were those things? They looked almost like…" Harry trailed off unsure if his question would be viewed in an insulting manner.

"Blood Elves," Sunbrand nodded affirmatively. "The wretched are what we become if we succumb to our magic addiction, mindless fiends attracted to the nearest source of mana."

"That sounds unpleasant."

"It is."

The pair continued on in silence, approaching a massive city in the distance, even from here Harry could see that roughly half of it lay in ruins, and through the middle a wide blackened tract of land, as if a dragon had run a few strafing runs along this particular path. As they drew closer, Harry realized that the soil wasn't scorched or burnt at all. It was as if it had simply withered and died.

Inspecting the area with the enchantments on his glasses activated, revealed a green mist, as if the killing curse was suspended over the trench in the land.

As if a twisted facsimile of nature, a partially skeletal deer sauntered through the blighted land. Other partially dead animals, and a variety of undead skeletons and cadavers were wandering about the scar in the land.

"This is sickening," Harry made no attempt to sugarcoat his feelings on the matter, "who would do something like this?"

"The Lich King and his undead minions tore a path through Quel'thalas, one that is not so quick to heal," commented Sunbrand morosely.

That particular comment only raised more questions in Harry's mind, ones that he didn't particularly care for at the moment so after a moment of silence, he changed the subject. "So, you spoke of a 'regent' lord, who is he substituting for?"

"Prince Kael'thas is our rightful ruler, but he is too occupied with finding a way to sate our race's addiction, to take up the crown at the moment," Sunbrand stated. "Lord Lor'themar Theron, our Ranger-General, governs in his place."

Harry nodded his head. "So what is this world called anyway?"

Aeldon turned to look at Harry with an eyebrow raised. "You travel between worlds with no knowledge of your destination?"

Harry tried to glare a hole into his face.

The blood elf scoffed loudly. "Typical human! The continent you now walk is known as The Eastern Kingdoms of the planet Azeroth," the pair walked in silence for a moment longer, before coming upon a massive fortification of gold and red, a red banner with what was unmistakably a gold phoenix poised to strike lay resplendent against the wall. "And this—this is Silvermoon City."

(Line Break)

Alternate Chapter Titles:

"The Plot Bunny that Wouldn't Fuck Off"- Gemfist

"A Guide to Disrupting Entire Branches of Government with a Few Well Placed Spells"- Harry Potter

"No! My wand!"- Auror Hostage

"No! My wand!"- Neville Longbottom

"I get the feeling this guy is gonna be trouble" - Aeldon Sunbrand and the rest of Azeroth

(Line Break)

Taking a different path here, Harry will become more powerful as the story trails on, and there will be no harem here. If romance ends up happening it'll be with a single woman or at most two. This decision was made largely because I noticed that I tend to hyperfocus on one particular pair in a harem when I write them (Such as with Arko and Harry in APF). I guess that's just my personal romantic views coloring my writing, but either way, no big harem.

To those wondering, no Harry cannot currently do magic reliably without a focus. The best he can do is summoning, and even at that, only small things, like he did with the wands in the Neville fight scene.

I hope you liked my take on Neville becoming an auror, and the insight he gave us.

Cheers!