Chapter Three: The Battle at Blackrock, pt. 1

Harry had to say, between a hippogriff and a dragonhawk, he'd take a hippogriff any day. His ride seemed to have something against him and delighted in diving down while he wasn't paying attention, and seemed to draw pleasure from fighting against the reigns whenever his attention had lapsed even slightly.

Conversely, Aurie was having no trouble at all, her mount was keeping a linear path, and not attempting to buck her off.

'Not fair at all.'

They'd taken off from outside Silvermoon about five hours prior, at least according to the receding sunlight, and judging by the changing landscapes below, they were making decent progress towards their destination.

"Screeeeeeech!" Both dragonhawks simultaneously cried.

"Ah, what the hell is wrong with them?" Questioned Harry, resisting the urge to cover his ears at the shrill screams of his ride, knowing the beast, that was likely exactly what it intended.

Aurie tried to say something but her voice was lost on the wind. "What?" He yelled back, his ears barely catching a wisp of what she'd said.

"I said, I think they're hungry!" She shouted back. After a short time finding a suitable clearing to land in, and dismounting, the duo were on the ground again.

"Alright then, give me their food," demanded Harry eyeing his dragonhawk's razor sharp beak warily.

"What?! I thought you had their food!" Exclaimed Aurosalia.

"I have our food, and the maps! Why would I have their food too?!"

"You're the one who has a magical bag!" She said, jabbing a finger at the satchel he'd engraved with runes to increase its carrying capacity.

"So just because my bag can hold more than yours, means I should carry everything?"

"Yes! What's the point of having a magical bag, if you're not going to use it properly?!"

"That's not at all fair!" He protested, the weight of the bag wasn't lessened at all—he didn't have the time to factor in a featherweight scheme in the array—and he'd rather not haul around half his own weight in foodstuff.

The dragonhawks having seen their riders arguing, and being smart enough to know that they weren't going to be fed, proceeded to take off. Great gusts of wind buffeting the area as they departed.

"Wait!" Cried Aurie, grabbing onto one of the trailing reins, only for it to be ripped from her grip after a particularly strong wingbeat.

Harry watched as the two beasts flew off into the distance faster than he could react. "Well, shit."

Sighing, Harry knelt on the muddy floor, and slowly transfigured a small area into solid ground.

"What are you doing?"

Harry pointed at the sun setting through the canopy. "Sun's going down, we'll figure out what to do in the morning."

Channeling a bit of magic into his pointer finger, he painstakingly carved a basic runic system into the ground, and activated it, bathing the clearing in a weak azure glow as a translucent shield formed over the small area he'd transfigured. 'Without a proper wand I wouldn't dare attempt anything complex, my mastery of wandless magic doesn't extend that far yet.'

Sadly, despite Neville's wand being considerably more open to his magic than the other one, it wasn't nearly attuned enough for him to risk anything more powerful than a few curses or hexes in quick succession.

'I miss my wand.'

This particular shielding array would be more than enough to fend off any wild creatures that were looking for an easy meal.

Granted it could be broken if say, an entire pack of wolves collided with it at the same time, or some such comparable threat, but for tonight so long as the array was unmarred they'd remain safe.

He spread out his bedroll carefully within the runic array, and tossed his pack beside it, fully intent on passing out.

"What's the rune supposed to do?" Questioned Aurie.

"It's an array, not a single rune," he corrected, "and it should ward off any curious animals that come searching."

She 'hmmed' in slight approval, before placing her own bed roll, and lying down.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"It's still your fault we lost the dragonhawks."

"Go to sleep," he murmured, putting his bag under his head to serve as a pillow, and rolling over.

(Line Break)

Harry awoke suddenly, the feeling of his proximity ward going off waking him, and promptly stifled a manly scream into more of a yelp, at the crocodile-like creature that was impaled right next to him.

A heavy-looking pike having spiked it through the head, mere inches away from him. The creature's maw slowly snapped shut, as its body slacked in death.

Aurie awoke due to the noise.

"Not too smart te be restin' out in the open like that, lad. It's monsoon season, don'tcha know? Not te mention, all the kinds of nasty beasties that'd eat you in yer sleep round 'ere!"

Harry's gaze was drawn to the voice, finally locating its source perched in a tree upon a low hanging branch.

A blonde-bearded dwarf sat on the tree, whittling away at a wooden object with the tip of a dagger.

Harry looked from his savior, to the pike less than a foot away. "Err—thank you, for the save," Harry scratched at his cheek, wondering why the hell the crocolisk had been able to cross the barrier, only to realize that there was no barrier. The array he had carved by hand last night had been dashed through, and in the morning sun he could still see glimmers of the frost spell that had done it.

"Aurie..." he stared pointedly at his companion, who was still in shock at the crocolisk.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, her pale complexion suddenly darkened to match her red hair. "I woke up in the night and had to pee. You didn't exactly include a bathroom in the protected area!"

Harry groaned, both at the oversight and the ridiculous situation. 'Only your luck Potter.'

The dwarf dropped down from the tree with an audible 'thump' as he landed on his boots, drawing the attention back to him.

"I dunno much about yer fancy magics, but we'd best be on our way 'fore this here beastie starts smelling ripe."

He ripped his pike out of the crocolisk's skull, and shouldered it.

Harry and Aurie quickly cleaned up their sleeping area, each shouldering their bags once more.

"Thanks again for the save, mate," Harry said, extending a hand to shake.

The dwarf grasped it firmly. "Wasn't any trouble lad. The name's Hansel Brightbeard, where are ye lot headed?"

Aurie chimed in. "We're going to Blackrock Mountain?"

"Blackrock?! That horrid place?" Hansel cried out, shocked. After taking a moment and recomposing himself, his eyes narrowed into twin black beads. "Yer not with the Dark Iron are ye?"

Harry shook his head and explained the situation as the three of them continued walking.

(Line Break)

They were all sat at a table in an inn, on the Wetlands side of Dun Algaz, where Hansel was stationed.

'If I've learned one thing about dwarves in the past few hours it's that they can sodding hold their drink.'

Harry's head was swimming with the amount of alcohol he'd consumed, he knew he probably should have been more on guard, but the dwarves had spiced beer! And whiskey too! After that first day in Silvermoon, he'd drank nothing but water, he deserved this!

'Besides Aurie will keep us out of any trouble, right?' He looked over to his companion, only to find that she was face down on the table, a few empty mugs scattered around her.

'Scratch that,' he chuckled quietly to himself, quite enjoying the freeing sensation of being sloshed out of his mind, the last time he had enjoyed himself like this was just a few days before—

"So lemme get this straight lad," boomed the voice of Hansel Brightbeard. "Ye thought you and the lass would be 'nough to storm Blackrock? Thass downrigh' crazy! There be dragons all about the place," he hunched over his drunk uncomfortably, "not te mention the orcs and Dark Iron that are running all around, doin' makers know what."

Sensing the shift in conversation towards more pressing issues, Harry mournfully drew his wand and cast an overpowered sobriety charm on himself, removing any traces of alcohol from his body, as well as clearing his thoughts considerably. 'It was fun while it lasted, but down to business.'

He shivered heavily, the charm removing any semblance of alcohol-granted warmth.

"Well dragons are dangerous, but nowhere near enough to require more than a handful of wizards, I figured Aurie and I," he pointed a thumb at his wasted female companion who weakly raised a hand and waved, "would sneak in and get what we needed while invisible." Of course this was assuming that dragons on Azeroth were similar to their Earth-born counterparts.

"I donnae much about the subject, but if it were that easy, the mountain wouldn't be so sought after, by both the Horde and Alliance."

Harry had gotten somewhat of a rudimentary understanding of the political landscape of this world by both talking with this dwarf, and the many offhand comments made by the citizens of Silvermoon.

Apparently there was a mix of different races that were all banded together into two separate factions, each making up a major power in the world. The Alliance had the Dwarves, Gnomes, Humans, Night Elves, and formerly the Blood Elves, Aurie had chimed in.

Meanwhile, the Horde possessed Trolls, Tauren, Orcs, and more recently the Forsaken, which were apparently undead who had seemingly broken away from the Lich King's forces, as was his understanding.

The way Hansel made it sound, the Horde was the enemy. A bunch of ruthless bloodthirsty expansionist war mongers. Meanwhile the Alliance upheld the tenets of the light, which by Hansel's description, sounded a good deal like most monotheistic religions Harry knew of.

Maybe if Harry was the same naive eleven year old who had, so long ago, entered into a world of wonder and intrigue, he would have taken Hansel at his word. But at nearly twenty-eight years of age, he'd learned to take things with a pinch of salt, and form his own views on things.

Maybe this Horde was a bunch of brutes, but they deserved the benefit of the doubt, despite however the Alliance may have portrayed then.

Nonetheless, he'd gotten superbly off-track, and made to re-center on the issue they now faced. He needed to build that portal for the elves, not only because he'd given his word, but also because he suspected that the first portal, the supposed "Veil of Death," had been faulty in some way, he'd been focused intently on getting to Sirius, but had instead found himself in this world, with zero sign of his misplaced dogfather. Perhaps a second attempt would bear more fruit.

But it seemed he'd acted a bit hastily in leaving Silvermoon without gathering all the information. His dwarven drinking companion's words implied that there was more than a single dragon, as well as a myriad of other threats. Harry was many things, but foolish was not one of them, there was no way he and Aurie alone would suffice in assaulting Blackrock, and his former plan of stealthy action was waylaid with doubts of his ability to remain hidden. 'I would much rather not risk her life,' he looked to Aurie, 'without certainty that we would have the upper hand.'

He needed allies, people to fight alongside them, and he suspected that the dwarves of Ironforge might be receptive at the notion of taking Blackrock mountain from the Dark Iron Clan.

"Hansel, what would your king say if I promised him Blackrock Mountain, in return for a small force with which to take it?"

Hansel chuckled and tossed back his drink, wiping his mustache as he set down the large stein again, only to be met by the emerald gaze of Harry Potter, no hint of mirth on his face.

"Oh yer not pullin' my leg are ye?" He asked unnecessarily, Harry's gaze stayed steady, proving his resolve. "Aye, I dare say old Magni'd be interested in what ye have to say. That is," he took another long draw from his flagon, "if ye can prove you'd be able to do it."

Harry's head dipped in a nod. Runes were an incredible force multiplier, applied in the right places, even the simplest of runes could help a small army, overwhelm one with vastly superior forces. With prior preparation, he could imbue runic enchantments into his forces' armor and weaponry, drastically improving their chances of success, and based on the enemies' capabilities he would adjust his enchantments for an edge against them. All he needed now was the agreement of the dwarven king, and time to prepare.

It was then that Aurie, who seemed to be teetering on the edge of consciousness, chimed in.

A stream of slurred words and enthusiastic sounding noises was her unintelligible contribution.

Harry assumed that she had meant to say something in support of this course of action, judging by her body language, but her speech was slurred horribly to the point of gibberish. The only word he'd managed to make out was "good," for which the vowel had been stretched out for several seconds.

He regarded her with amusement, before turning back to Hansel. "I am absolutely certain that I can take Blackrock Mountain for the dwarves of Ironforge."

"Then I 'spose I'll take ye to the city, though uh," Hansel scratched at his beard as if embarrassed to admit it, even as he reached for another drink, "ahm in no condition to be ridin' a gryphon, so we'll go tomorrow."

(Line Break)

Harry was on edge. For the past several years he'd become accustomed to a certain lifestyle. There was never a day without a battle to be fought, or an enemy to be slain. To go this long without seeing some kind of action, had made him a bit uncomfortable. Idle time meant reflection, and he was a man with far too many bad memories. Luckily, his time in Ironforge had been quite fraught with work to be done.

Convincing King Magni had been remarkably easy. As it so happened, the ruler's daughter, Moira, had been captured a few weeks prior by the Dark Iron.

The dwarven sovereign had been on edge for days his mind conflicted between not seeking to ignite the flames of a war he wasn't certain he could win, and saving the life of his only child.

Harry had been prepared for that eventuality with a series of his simpler runic arrays.

A display of the amount of force rune-etched armor could weather, had all but convinced the Mountain-King they would emerge victorious.

Here they all were a week later, at the foot of Blackrock Mountain, a small army of dwarves (mind the pun), who had volunteered for the impromptu rescue/assault. They were about a hundred strong, and lead by their king, each one of them bearing a few defensive and offensive improvements via Harry's runes.

He wondered if—

Harry doubled over in pain, a basketball-sized orb of ice having impacted him in the stomach.

Aurie withdrew her hand, frost flaking off her fingertips.

He dropped to his knees, glaring up at his friend. "Was that necessary?"

"I've been trying to get your attention. They're moving."

Harry found that the dwarven forces that had surrounded him last he checked were indeed a hundred yards further.

"Well what are we waiting for?" He asked rhetorically, taking off after them.

Aurie shook her head in exasperation, before jogging to catch up.

The two spell casters pushed ahead of the legion of dwarves, coming to a stop next to King Magni.

Magni eyed them for a moment. "Mind gettin' the door?" He gestured at the thick wrought iron gate that sealed the way into the mountain.

"It would be my pleasure," replied Harry, taking a moment to channel the mana required, building it up in his hands into a storm of purple energy before unleashing it at the threshold.

The spell disappeared into the door.

"That all-"

The door exploded into metal fragments.

Magni nodded approvingly before raising his hammer. "Forward! Fer Ironforge!"

A chorusing reply of "fer Ironforge!" rung out as the force of dwarves charged in to face their foes.

"This'll be fun," muttered Aurie, a frostbolt forming in one hand, as a fireball burst into being in her other.

Immediately a battalion of fiery-eyed Dark Iron dwarves swarmed out of their positions to meet the attacking force at the gate, only to found their swords unable to pierce their opponents' armor, and their maces unable to dent them.

The few enemy mages were dealt with from afar. A combination of Aurie's frost and fire, and Harry's casual use of simple hexes, keeping them from harrying the battling soldiers.

Minute by minute, the Dark Iron were steadily being pushed back. Despite their vastly superior numbers, their foes were too well-equipped to counter them. Harry had personally ensured that every axe-blade and sword were sharp enough to easily cleave through chainmail.

It was a gory game of quality versus quantity, and quality was easily winning.

The remaining Dark Iron, having been cowed by the superior weaponry, retreated even further into the mountain, allowing the Ironforge dwarves to establish a forward camp within the mountain.

King Magni bashed his war hammer against a shield, drawing his people's attention. "Alright! Listen up ye lot! I want most of ye to stay here and defend our exit. Four of ye with the flamin' swords, come with me to save my daughter," he turned to were Aurie and Harry were situated, "and you two, with me as well, I'll be needing you to deal with any more mages that come."

Harry nodded, so long as the dwarven king honored their agreement, he had no issue following his orders. He stood from his perch, following as the significantly smaller group broke away, Aurie following his lead.

As they walked further into the depths of the mountain, the dwarves behind them formed into defensive positions.

(Line Break)

The air was sweltering, lava streams crisscrossed the entire mountain at this depth. Harry had to reapply his cooling charms every few minutes, because they simply could not hold up to the constant heat stress.

On the upside, the Dark Iron's hasty retreat had left many spoils behind. Among them, Harry had identified many bars of pure Mithril, and a few of Cold Iron. He slipped as many as he could find into his bag, which was now thankfully bearing a lightweight charm.

For the most part, their path to the Dark Iron throne was unimpeded, leaving Harry very concerned about what lay behind the throne room doors.

"Wait," he whispered to Magni, as the king raised a hand to gesture forward.

Harry placed both hands on the doorframe and intoned. "Homenum Revelio!"

The wave of magic traveled through the barrier, highlighting dozens of Dark Iron dwarves in purple.

"I can knock them all out in one move, but I need a minute," Harry said, his hands already weaving together to gather magic for a massively overpowered stunning spell.

Were the Dark Iron not on guard, he'd likely get away with casting a sleeping charm, but as they were all clearly facing the doorway, and alert, he'd have to do something much more taxing.

His hands glowed red so brightly and densely, that it was almost blinding to look at.

Harry grit his teeth as he condensed the magic further and further, making sure there were no gaps, he'd done this on a much smaller scale by accident before, now he was attempting it of his own volition.

"Get the door," he bit out struggling to contain the spell he was about to unleash.

Two dwarves dragged the colossal door open quickly as they could.

'Stupefy!'

The enemy forces bristled at the intrusion, and had the time to take less than a single step before being blasted to unconsciousness.

A veritable wall of red had exploded from Harry's person, hitting every single person in the room, and sending them into a painful looking heap of sleeping dwarves. Harry saw more than a few of them being injured by their allies weapons, and winced slightly, not intending that particular eventuality.

"How long will they be out?"

Harry poked one with his foot. "A few hours."

At the far end of the room, two figures were slumped in side-by-side thrones.

Magni quickly hastened towards the female one.

Aurie gaped at the ease by which the entire room had been neutralized, before turning to Harry and pouting. "That just takes all the fun out of assaulting an entire stronghold! Also, you are definitely going to teach me that."

It wasn't a question.

Harry nodded his head, a chuckle escaping him at his friend/student's demand, before he stumbled to lean against a wall, suddenly feeling dizzy. 'As it turns out expelling a bunch of your mana in one go, without a focus to tone down the stress, is ill-advised.'

For a minute he felt as if he might start dry heaving, but the feeling quickly passed, allowing him to observe the room once more.

Magni was inspecting his daughter for any outward signs of injury, meanwhile the dwarven escort had surrounded the other throne and were keeping watch on the occupant, presumably the Dark Iron king. 'Dagger or Dorgo or some other such name,' Harry hadn't payed too much attention at the briefing.

Magni called for him. "Wizard. Undo your spell on my daughter."

'Undoing it so quick will give a pretty nasty headache, but...' Shrugging he sent the counter-stun her way, making sure to overpower it, so as to overpower his overpowered stunner.

Moira Bronzebeard awoke with a gasp, before quickly taking in the situation in a way only royals could. "Father? What are ye doin' here?" Then her eyes fell upon the limp king beside her. "Dagran? Dagran!"

Magni looked horribly confused at her scathing tone. "I'm here to rescue ye lass!"

'Dagran that was his name!' Realizations aside. The urgency with which she stated his name was a bit of a red flag for Harry. 'Wasn't she kidnapped?'

"Wake up Dagran! What have ye done to him?" Screamed Moira.

'Right that settled it, either she's got some kind of Stockholm syndrome, or we've got a rather different situation on our hands.'

A subtle compulsion was directed at the princess. A second later, his emerald eyes made contact with Moira's twin ambers, and a link was established in a moment.

Legilimency was a skill he had some proficiency in, but it was one he didn't particularly enjoy using. 'No one should be able to see your innermost thoughts and desires.' But needs must and all that.

He carefully prompted her mind with thoughts of the Dark Iron and their leader, only to be faced with a flood of feelings and images, affection, pride, ambition, and finally love.

It seemed as if the kidnapping was staged, Moira and Dagran had met before in secret and had fallen for one another, their ambitions being what ultimately lead to their match-up.

Moira wished to become more than just her father's daughter and the unwanted female heiress of the Bronzebeard clan, meanwhile Dagran had wished to free the Dark Iron of the stigma that his father and forefathers had placed upon them by allying their clan with the vanquished Firelord, Ragnaros. And so, Moira Bronzebeard staged her own kidnapping.

'Well now, isn't that interesting?'

One thing was for certain, Magni didn't know any of this.

Harry looked at her knowingly, before spilling the figurative beans. "You'd best tell your father the truth before he kills your fiancé here."

"F-Fiancé?!" Sputtered Magni, before his eyes narrowed. "What has the bastard done to ye Moira?"

"He hasn't done anything father!" She screeched, mouth twisting in anger at the mage who'd revealed her secret before she was ready, although when she was going to be ready to tell her dad that she was seeing a Dark Iron was a matter of contention, even in her own mind.

Magni scratched his beard with his hammer wielding hand, "I dunnae understand, ye were kidnapped!"

"I was never kidnapped, I left Ironforge to be with Dagran, we're in love!"

"Love?!" Magni's face twisted into a scowl. "Oh no missie! No daughter o' mine is gonna shack up with a Dark Iron of all things! Especially not their makers-damned leader!"

Harry surreptitiously woke the Dark Iron leader, seeing no reason that the subject of the argument shouldn't be present.

Dagran shook himself of the sudden migraine that had formed before taking stock of the situation he was now in. "Bronzebeard! I mean ye no harm!"

The Ironforge squad that surrounded him leveled their weapons at him.

"Oh is that so?" Magni questioned his voice showcasing his doubt. "Then why did we have to fight tooth an' nail to get this far into the mountain?"

"You came into my city with an army, and you threw the first blow!"

"You took ma daughter!"

"Thas not what happened!" He protested. "Call off yer dogs! Ahm unarmed!"

He made no move to order the Ironforge guardsmen away.

"Please da'!" Begged Moira, her hand on his forearm, tugging at him in a desperate plea.

Magni caught the pleading tone in his daughter's voice, and the desperation in her eyes, before he, against his better judgement, gave into his fatherly instincts. "Stand down men, but be weary," his eyes did not waver, "these Dark Iron are a wily sort."

"I cannae deny that," Dagran breathed out, grateful that he wasn't in danger of being skewered any longer. "I suppose we're overdue fer a talk, aye?" He joked lightly.

Magni's glare did not let up at the darker dwarf's attempt at humor. "I s'pose," he set down his hammer to signify his willingness to speak, but left it well within reach. "Let's talk."

(Line Break)

Several hours later, Harry sat on a rock bench beside Aurie, getting what rest they could in. A shaky truce had been manufactured.

Due to the fake kidnapping having been manufactured by a daughter of Ironforge, King Magni had been forced to formally apologize to King Dagran for the assault, and loss of Dark Iron lives. It sounded like a bunch of political bullshit in Harry's opinion, but then again he was somewhat of an anarchist back on Earth.

The end result was that the two dwarven clans were in the early stages of forming an alliance.

Despite the rough and abnormal way that it had came about. The newfound understanding only benefited Harry and Aurie's agenda, as they now had another ally in getting the third reagent on their list, the bone of an elder dragon.

Evidently, despite their freedom from their ancestral pact with Ragnaros after his defeat, the Dark Iron, were still routinely subjugated and forced to work for the black dragons that made their home in Blackrock Spire.

What this meant, is that on top of having one hundred Ironforge clansmen, each outfitted with runic armor and weaponry, he also had the entirety of the Dark Iron clan, who had a vendetta against the supposed 'Lord of Blackrock,' and had decades to map out the Upper Spire, and spy on their overseers.

The entire situation reminded Harry quite a bit of the Death Eater occupation of Hogwarts in his sixth year. The terror of your classmates and friends disappearing for long whiles, only to return mutilated, and on death's door.

He could only imagine the pain and frustration at being subject to that for as long as these people had.

Thoughts of sixth year, invariably lead to thoughts of her, and as Harry tried to sleep, pushing away any memory that threatened to disturb him, he slipped into a fitful slumber, hazy images of dead friends, and crazed witches, haunting his dreams.

Hey everyone, so it's been a while, but I'm still kicking!

Dwarven lore is such a pitfall, it took forever to decide on an appropriate course for this chapter. Canon WoW has Magni hiring a team of adventurers to infiltrate Blackrock, rescue his daughter, and kill Dagran. Also the kidnapping is not faked in canon, I took some creative liberties with that, but Moira did end up falling in love with Dagran, that part holds true. So the results of my meddling are: closer relations between the two dwarven clans, Dagran's alive so Moira doesn't step up to the plate so to speak, and Magni is forced to acknowledge that the Dark Iron 'Ain't all that bad.'

So! To answer a few questions, and clear up some misconceptions.

This is NOT a rewrite of A Pivotal Force. I honestly don't quite understand why people thought it was, I get that they're both HP/WoW stories, but the premises are rather different, no?

As for the lore on the elves, all the elves are actually descended from a tribe of trolls that lived on the banks of The Well of Eternity, they eventually became the Night Elves, who had a sect among them known as the Highborne, who were a large group of powerful mages lead by Queen Azshara. Eventually after the Sundering, when the Well of Eternity was destroyed, the Highborne were all driven out by the Night Elves and their allies due to Azshara allying with the Burning Legion. With no home to call their own, they sailed to the Eastern Kingdoms. The leader of the outcasts, Dath'remar Sunstrider used a few preserved droplets of the Well of Eternity to form The Sunwell. They named their new land Quel'thalas. Over time the radiant waters changed them into the High Elves, and so they remained until several hundred years later, when Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider renamed them Blood Elves, in memory of those who had fallen, and the 'blood curse' that was their addiction to magic after the Sunwell's destruction at the Lich King's hand.

Whoo! Sorry for the lore dump, but I really love WoW lore.

So next up, we see Harry, Aurie, and a shitload of angry dwarves in Nefarian's Lair, that should be fun!

Cheers!