Hello, Drinor here. I'm happy to publish a new Chapter of The Tarnished Potter.
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Chapter 3 (A Guide's Heart, A Wizard's Promise), Chapter 4 (The Grafting Song), Chapter 5 (The Boy Who Lives Meets The Eye That Dreams), Chapter 6 (A Door to Nowhere), and Chapter 7 (Cleanrot Knight) are already available for Patrons.
Harry stared at the young woman before him, trying to make sense of her appearance. Her hooded cloak, a rich mixture of brown and gold, swayed gently in the otherworldly breeze.
"I... I'm sorry, but where exactly am I?" Harry asked, his voice wavering slightly. He turned in a slow circle, taking in the alien landscape again. The enormous Tree dominated the sky, its golden branches creating a natural cathedral ceiling above them. The castle in the distance loomed ominously, its architecture unlike anything he'd ever seen in the magical world.
Melina's visible purple eye studied him with curiosity. "As I said, you are in the Lands Between. Though your confusion suggests you're not from any land I know of. Your clothes..." she gestured to his Hogwarts robes, "I've never seen their like."
"I'm from Britain," Harry said, then realized how meaningless that might be here. "From Earth. I was at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry just moments ago."
"Witchcraft?" Melina's eye widened slightly. "You speak of sorceries? Yet you bear no staff, and your magic..." she paused, considering. "Your magic feels different from any sorcery or incantation I've encountered."
Harry instinctively reached for his wand again, panic rising when he confirmed it wasn't there. "My wand's gone. I need my wand to do magic."
"A wand?" Melina's lips curved in a slight smile. "How curious. Here, we channel our power through staffs, sacred seals, or weapons imbued with power. But you... you're something entirely new."
"You keep calling me Tarnished," Harry said, running a hand through his messy hair in frustration. "What does that even mean?"
Melina gestured to a nearby piece of fallen masonry, inviting him to sit. When they were both seated, she began to explain.
"The Tarnished were once great warriors and leaders who served the Erdtree and the Golden Order. When Godfrey, the first Elden Lord, lost his grace, he and his warriors were exiled from these lands. They became known as the Tarnished, cursed to wander in distant lands." She paused, her eye distant. "But now, grace calls them back. The Elden Ring has been shattered, and the Lands Between need a new Elden Lord."
Harry's head was spinning. "But I'm not... I mean, I've never been here before. I'm just a wizard – well, a wizard in training. I was fighting Dementors just minutes ago, trying to save my godfather..."
"Dementors? Godfather?" Now it was Melina's turn to look confused. "Your world must be very different from ours. Yet grace has chosen you, marking you as Tarnished and bringing you here. Have you noticed anything different about yourself recently."
"The dragon stuff?" Harry unconsciously rubbed his right arm, remembering the scales, the claws. "That just started happening. I don't understand any of it."
"Dragon communion is known in these lands," Melina said thoughtfully. "But your connection seems... different. More primal. As if the dragon essence is part of your very being."
A thought struck Harry. "Wait... you said I'm actually here? This isn't a dream or a vision?"
"No," Melina confirmed. "Your body and spirit are both present in the Lands Between. Though how you crossed between worlds..." she shook her head. "That is beyond my knowledge."
Harry stood up abruptly, panic finally breaking through his confusion. "But I need to get back! My friends... Sirius... they'll think something's happened to me! There has to be a way!"
"Peace, Tarnished," Melina rose gracefully, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps this is why grace has called you. The Lands Between are full of ancient magic and forgotten knowledge. As you seek the path of the Elden Lord, you might also find your way home."
"And if I don't want to be Elden Lord?" Harry asked. "I've got enough problems already, thank you very much."
Melina's expression grew serious. "Grace does not choose without reason. And the powers awakening within you... they may be connected to both our worlds in ways we don't yet understand."
Harry was about to argue further when a sound caught his attention – hoofbeats, growing closer. Melina tensed slightly.
"We should move," she said quietly. "Night approaches, and the Lands Between grow more dangerous in the dark. There is a site of grace nearby where we can talk more safely."
"A site of grace?"
"You'll see. Come." She started walking toward what looked like a small church in the distance, a big golden knight was patrolling nearby, but Melina made sure to avoid him. "And Harry? Whatever brought you here, whatever powers are awakening within you... you're not alone. I will guide you."
As they walked, Harry couldn't help but notice how the golden light from the Erdtree seemed to follow them, creating patterns in the grass that reminded him of the Patronus he'd cast. Everything here felt ancient and powerful, yet somehow familiar, as if he'd walked these lands in a half-remembered dream.
"Melina," he said suddenly, "you mentioned grace choosing people. How do you know it's chosen me?"
She stopped walking and turned to face him. "Look at your hand."
Harry raised his right hand and gasped. There, glowing faintly beneath his skin, was a pattern of light that pulsed in time with his heartbeat.
"That is the guidance of grace," Melina explained. "It will show you the path forward... though where that path leads, even I cannot say."
They reached the church just as the golden sky began to darken to a deep amber. Inside, Harry saw a point of golden light swirling up from the ground, like a miniature version of the Erdtree itself.
"A site of grace," Melina said softly. "Touch it. Let it remind you of what you are."
Harry reached out hesitantly. As his fingers brushed the golden light, warmth spread through his body, and for a moment, he felt connected to something vast and ancient. The dragon power within him stirred in response.
"Well," he said, drawing his hand back, "I suppose if I'm stuck here, I'd better learn about this place. But I won't give up on finding a way home."
Melina's smile held both approval and something else – something almost sad. "No, I don't suppose you will. Rest now, Tarnished."
Harry sat cross-legged near the site of grace, watching the golden tendrils of light dance upward. There was something oddly familiar about it, reminiscent of both Phoenix song and the warm feeling of casting his Patronus. The grace seemed to whisper to him in a language just beyond his understanding, like trying to remember a dream upon waking. He couldn't help but wonder what Ron and Hermione would say if they could see him now. Somehow, he had a feeling his life had just become even more complicated than usual.
In the distance, the Erdtree's branches swayed in a windless sky, and somewhere in the gathering darkness, something roared – a sound that made the dragon blood in his veins sing with recognition.
"It feels... alive," Harry said softly, more to himself than to Melina.
"Indeed, this site of grace connects you to it, and if you find more sites of grace, you should be able to use them as a way of travelling long distances, and a place to rest."
Harry watched the swirling grace, trying to understand its nature. "Back home, we have something called the Floo Network – magical fires that connect different places. This feels similar, but... different."
"The sites of grace are indeed connected," Melina said, her dress shifting in the ethereal light. "They form a network across the Lands Between, guiding Tarnished to their destiny."
"There you go again, being all mysterious," Harry said with a half-smile. "You could just say 'they're magical checkpoints' or something simple like that."
Melina's visible eye crinkled with amusement. "Where would be the poetry in that?"
"Hermione would love you," Harry said, feeling a pang of worry about his friends. "She always appreciates precise, complicated explanations. Ron would probably just roll his eyes and ask if there's food nearby."
"Your friends sound dear to you," Melina observed, her voice softening. "Tell me about them?"
"They're the best friends anyone could have. Hermione's brilliant, always has her nose in a book, knows everything about everything. Ron's loyal, brave... bit of a chess master, actually. They're probably worried sick about me right now." Harry picked up a blade of grass, twirling it between his fingers. "What about you? Do you have friends here?"
Melina's expression became distant. "I have... a purpose. And I offer guidance to Tarnished who accept me as their maiden."
"That's not what I asked," Harry pointed out gently.
"No," she agreed, a small smile playing on her lips. "It wasn't."
Harry gestured at the vast landscape around them. "So where exactly are we? Besides 'The Lands Between,' I mean."
"This is Limgrave," Melina replied, sweeping her hand toward the castle in the distance. "These lands were once ruled from Stormveil Castle, where Godrick the Grafted now dwells."
"Godrick the Grafted?"
"Grafted," she repeated, and Harry noticed a slight grimace cross her features. "He... is not a pleasant man. Right now, is better that you don't encounter him."
Harry was sure he had heard the word 'Grafted' before. Maybe it was in a Herbology class. He wasn't sure, but he was sure he had heard it before. It was clear that Melina didn't seem to like this man. "You said you have met other Tarnished. Does that mean there are others like me walking around?"
"Indeed. Though many have lost their way, gone mad, facing death is not something weak man can handle." She paused, studying him. "You take this revelation rather well."
Harry shrugged. "I've faced death before. Had a basilisk fang through my arm once, actually. A phoenix saved me."
"A phoenix?" Melina leaned forward, genuinely intrigued. "We have no such creatures here, though the great dragons of Farum Azula might rival their majesty."
"Everything you say just raises more questions," Harry said, laughing despite himself. "Farum what? Great dragons? Next you'll be telling me there's a giant turtle wearing a hat."
Melina's eye twinkled mischievously. "Well, actually..."
"You're joking."
"I never joke about Walking Mausoleums."
Harry flopped back onto the grass, staring up at the Erdtree's golden branches. "Mental. This is absolutely mental. You know what's really strange though? Part of me feels... comfortable here. Like something in my blood recognizes this place."
"The dragon blood within you," Melina suggested. "Dragons once ruled these lands, before the Age of the Erdtree. Perhaps your... unique condition connects you to that ancient past."
"Is that why the grace chose me? Because I'm turning into some sort of dragon-wizard hybrid?"
"Grace works in mysterious ways," Melina said, her voice taking on that familiar cryptic tone.
"Now you're just doing it on purpose," Harry accused, and Melina giggled. She was quite cute when she giggled, and Harry wanted to ask something else. "What even is grace?"
"The grace is a gift from the Greater Will," Melina replied, settling gracefully beside him. "It guides the Tarnished, showing them their path."
Harry turned to look at her. "You keep mentioning this 'Greater Will.' What exactly is it?"
"An outer god," Melina said, her purple eye reflecting the golden light. "The force that governs our world through the Erdtree and the Golden Order."
"Right," Harry said slowly. "That explains absolutely nothing."
A slight smile tugged at Melina's lips. "Perhaps some things must remain mysterious until you are ready to understand them."
"Are you always this cryptic?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or is it just for my benefit?"
"I speak as I must," Melina responded, but there was a glimmer of amusement in her eye.
"No, you're enjoying this," Harry accused, finding himself grinning despite the absurdity of his situation. "You're having fun being all mysterious and vague."
A soft giggle escaped Melina's lips, the sound surprisingly youthful and genuine. "Perhaps I am, a little. It's not often I meet a Tarnished who—"
"Ahh, you must be Tarnished."
Harry jumped to his feet, his hand automatically reaching for a wand that wasn't there. At the far end of the ruined church, illuminated by a small campfire, sat a man Harry was certain hadn't been there moments before.
The stranger wore bright crimson robes that seemed to shimmer in the firelight. A wide-brimmed hat cast shadows across his face, but Harry could see he was smiling. Most surprisingly, next to him stood what appeared to be a donkey – except this donkey had horns protruding from its head.
"Where did you come from?" Harry asked, still tense.
The man chuckled. "Just returned from visiting a friend, actually. Needed to restock my inventory." He patted a large leather bag beside him that clinked with the sound of multiple items inside. "No need for alarm, young Tarnished. The Church of Elleh is a sanctuary of sorts."
"This is Merchant Kale," Melina explained, though Harry noticed she remained seated by the grace. "He is... trustworthy."
"High praise indeed from our mysterious maiden," Kale said with another chuckle. "Come closer, young one. The night grows cold, and my fire is warm."
Harry hesitated, then walked closer to the fire. The merchant's horned donkey watched him with surprisingly intelligent eyes.
"That's an... interesting animal you have," Harry said, gesturing to the donkey.
"Ah, you mean Torrent's cousin here?" Kale patted the donkey's flank. "All Spectral Steeds share some features. Though I notice you haven't called your own yet."
"My own what?"
"Your Spectral Steed," Melina said, finally joining them by the fire. "As a Tarnished chosen by grace, you have the ability to summon one."
"I can summon a magical horse?" Harry asked incredulously. "Like, just call it out of nowhere?"
"With this," Melina held out her hand, and a small ring materialized in her palm. "The Spectral Steed Whistle. Though I must warn you, Torrent can be... particular about who he accepts as a rider."
Harry took the ring, examining it in the firelight. It was simple in design but seemed to hum with power.
"I don't suppose either of you sell wands?" Harry asked hopefully, looking between Melina and Kale.
"Wands?" Kale rifled through his bag. "I have staffs, sacred seals, various armaments... but nothing like what you describe. Though..." he pulled out a straight piece of polished wood with crystals embedded in it, "this Glintstone Staff might serve your purpose?"
Harry took the staff, but it felt wrong in his hands – too heavy, too rigid. "No, it's not the same. I need my wand to do proper magic."
"Your magic is different from ours," Melina observed. "Yet you managed those dragon transformations without any focus item."
"That's different," Harry protested. "That just... happened. I don't know how to control it."
"Perhaps," Kale interjected, "what you need isn't what you think you need. The Lands Between have a way of teaching us new methods, whether we wish to learn them or not."
"That's cryptic enough to make Melina proud," Harry said dryly, earning another giggle from the maiden.
"Speaking of proud," Kale said, reaching into his bag again, "no Tarnished should wander these lands without proper protection. Here." He pulled out what looked like leather armor. "Consider it a welcome gift. The price of survival is steep enough without charging you for basic equipment."
Harry accepted the armor, surprised by its lightness. "Thank you, but I don't have any money – well, I have Galleons, but I doubt they're worth anything here."
"Galleons?" Kale's eyes lit up with interest. "Show me?"
Harry pulled a single gold Galleon from his pocket, one of the few he had on him. Kale examined it with obvious fascination.
"Remarkable craftsmanship," he muttered. "And pure gold, if I'm not mistaken. Yes, young Tarnished, this has value here. Though I'd advise keeping such unique coins hidden. Not all merchants are as honest as myself."
"Right," Harry said, storing the Galleon away.
Harry sat closer to Kale's fire, examining the leather armor the merchant had given him. The night had grown colder, and distant howls echoed across the landscape, making Harry think uncomfortably of Professor Lupin and the events that had led him here.
Kale's head tilted slightly at one particular howl. "Ah... speaking of warriors..." He turned to Harry, his face half-hidden beneath his wide-brimmed hat. "That howl, in the Mistwood... I suppose he must still be skulking about..."
"Another werewolf?" Harry asked tensely, his hand instinctively clenching despite the absence of his wand.
"Werewolf?" Kale chuckled. "No, no, young Tarnished. Something far more interesting." He reached into his bag and pulled out what looked like a simple wooden finger snap device. "Mmm, I know. Why not meet him for yourself? Next time you hear the wolf's howl, make this signal right under the source."
Harry took the device uncertainly. "Wait, you want me to go toward the howling? Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"Oh, don't fret, there is nothing to fear," Kale said, waving his hand dismissively. "I just have an inkling the two of you might hit it off."
"Who exactly are we talking about?" Harry glanced at Melina, who was watching the exchange with her usual mysterious expression.
"A warrior named Blaidd," Kale replied, stoking the fire. "Though I confess I don't know much about him myself. His reputation precedes him, however."
"And you're suggesting I just... what? Go find this mysterious howling warrior?"
"You'll need allies in this world, young Tarnished," Kale said, his tone growing serious. "Without your usual means of protection..." he gestured to where Harry had earlier reached for his missing wand, "you'd do well to find those who can watch your back. The Lands Between are unforgiving, and unlike other Tarnished..." he glanced briefly at Melina, "we don't know what would happen should you fall."
Harry absorbed this information, turning the snap device over in his hands. "So this Blaidd... is he human, or...?"
"That," Kale said with another mysterious smile, "is something you'll have to discover for yourself. Though I will say, he's one of the more honorable warriors you're likely to meet in these lands."
"You're starting to sound as cryptic as Melina," Harry muttered.
"I heard that," Melina said softly, but there was amusement in her voice.
"The Mistwood lies to the east," Kale continued, pointing into the darkness. "Though I'd advise waiting for daylight before seeking out our howling friend. The night holds... different dangers."
As if to emphasize his point, an inhuman screech echoed from somewhere in the darkness, making Harry's skin crawl.
"Right," Harry said, carefully pocketing the snap device. "Daylight it is, then."
"In the meantime," Kale said, reaching once more into his seemingly bottomless bag, "perhaps we should discuss what other equipment you might need. Those school robes, while charming, won't offer much protection against what awaits you."
As Kale began laying out various items, Harry couldn't help but think that if Hermione were here, she'd already have a dozen questions about how the merchant's bag worked, probably comparing it to Extension Charms. The thought of his friend made his chest tighten – he needed to find a way back, but it seemed the path home might require him to first survive this strange and dangerous world.
"So how exactly am I supposed to fight here?" Harry asked, looking between Melina and Kale. "Without my wand, I'm not sure how—"
"As a Tarnished, you have the power of Grace within you," Melina began, but Harry held up his hand.
"Harry," he interrupted. "Please call me Harry. I'm not... I'm not a Tarnished. I'm just Harry."
A small smile played across Melina's face. "Very well... Harry. As I was saying, you should be able to channel your Grace—"
"But I don't know how to do that," Harry said, frustration creeping into his voice. "Everyone keeps talking about Grace like I should understand what it is, but I don't."
Melina tilted her head, considering him. "Perhaps we should approach this differently. How do you typically use your magic? With your... wand, was it?"
Harry ran a hand through his messy hair. "Well, we learn specific incantations and wand movements. The wand helps focus our magic, channels it." He paused, wishing desperately that Hermione was here – she'd explain it properly, probably quote "Magical Theory" word for word. "It's like... the magic is inside us, but the wand helps direct it where we want it to go."
"Interesting," Melina said softly. "Not so different from our incantations, though we use sacred seals rather than wands. You'd need an Erdtree Seal to properly channel Grace for more powerful incantations, but..." She stood up. "You should be able to manage minor attacks even without one. Close your eyes."
Harry gave her a skeptical look but did as she asked.
"Now," Melina's voice came from somewhere in front of him, "focus on your right hand, just as you would when casting with your wand. Feel the energy within you."
Harry tried to concentrate, remembering how it felt to cast spells. He could almost feel his magic stirring, but it was different somehow – wilder, less controlled.
"Nothing's happening,"
"Keep trying," Melina encouraged. "Picture the energy flowing down your arm."
Harry focused harder, his hand starting to shake with effort. Still nothing.
"This is pointless," he muttered, but kept his eyes closed.
Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Harry's arm was getting tired from being held out, and his patience was wearing thin.
"Maybe if you—" Kale began.
"I'm doing exactly what she said!" Harry snapped, his eyes flying open. "It's not working!"
"Patience, Harry," Melina said calmly. "Try again. This time, don't force it. Let it flow naturally."
Harry closed his eyes again, trying to calm his rising frustration. He thought about casting his Patronus, how the magic had felt different that last time. Golden instead of silver, an elk instead of a stag...
Still nothing.
"This is useless!" He dropped his arm, pacing around the fire. "I can't just... make magic happen without a wand. That's not how it works!"
"But you did," Melina reminded him. "With the dragon powers you spoke of."
"That was different! I didn't try to do that, it just... happened!"
"Perhaps that's the key," Melina suggested. "You're trying too hard."
Harry ran both hands through his hair, making it stand up even more than usual. "Right, so I'm supposed to try by not trying? That makes perfect sense!"
He held out his hand again, this time with his eyes open, willing something – anything – to happen. His arm trembled with effort, but no magic appeared.
"ARGH!" He kicked a loose stone, sending it skittering into the darkness. "I could cast spells when I was eleven! Why can't I do this?"
"Different world, different rules," Kale observed, earning a glare from Harry.
"That's not helpful!"
"Harry," Melina's voice was still calm, but there was a hint of steel in it now. "Your anger won't make this easier."
"I'm not angry!" Harry shouted, then immediately felt foolish. He took a deep breath. "Okay, maybe I am angry. But I need to learn this. I need to be able to defend myself so I can find a way home."
"Then let's try something else," Melina suggested. "Instead of focusing on your hand, focus on the Grace itself. You said you could feel it earlier."
Harry looked at the golden wisps rising from the site of grace. He could still feel that strange connection, like a half-remembered song...
He closed his eyes again, trying to recall that feeling. For a moment, he thought he felt something – a warmth in his chest, similar to but different from his usual magic.
"That's it," Melina encouraged. "Now let it flow—"
"I lost it!" Harry's eyes snapped open. "It was there for a second, and then..."
"Progress," Melina said with a slight smile.
"Progress?" Harry laughed bitterly. "I felt something for half a second. That's not progress, that's... that's nothing! How am I supposed to survive here if I can't even manage the basics?"
"You managed to survive a werewolf attack," Kale pointed out. "And those dragon powers you mentioned..."
"Powers I can't control! Powers that just showed up out of nowhere when I was desperate!" Harry resumed his pacing. "What happens next time I'm in danger? What if they don't appear? What if—"
He stopped suddenly, a thought occurring to him. "Wait. The dragon powers... they came when I was in danger. When I needed them. Maybe..."
"Harry," Melina's voice held a warning note. "Whatever you're thinking—"
"I need to be in actual danger," Harry said, more to himself than to her. "Maybe that's how it works."
"That would be unwise," Melina said firmly. "You cannot afford to die here."
"Then how?" Harry demanded, turning to face her. "How am I supposed to learn? How am I supposed to survive? How am I supposed to get home?" His voice cracked on the last word.
A heavy silence fell over the church, broken only by the crackling of Kale's fire and the distant howls of whatever creatures roamed the night.
"We'll try again tomorrow," Melina said finally. "When you're rested. When you're calmer."
"One more try," he muttered, holding out his hand. He tried to focus on the Grace as Melina had instructed, but his thoughts kept drifting to Hogwarts, to his friends.
"I should be there!" he suddenly shouted, his voice echoing off the church walls. "This isn't where I'm supposed to be! I need to get back, I need to—" He flung his arm out in anger.
A brilliant bolt of golden lightning erupted from his palm, striking the church roof. Stone fragments rained down as everyone ducked, the crash of thunder still reverberating through the small building.
"Bloody hell," Harry whispered, staring at his hand in shock.
Melina's visible eye was wide. "That was Lightning Spear..."
"Well, well," Kale chuckled, brushing stone dust from his hat. "Seems our young friend here has quite the lightning temper. Though I'd appreciate it if you didn't bring the rest of my roof down, Tarn— er, Harry."
Harry barely heard them. He was transfixed by his right hand, where ribbons of golden lightning still danced across his fingers before fading away like dying sparks. "I... I didn't mean to..."
"That's the fascinating part," Melina said, stepping closer to examine his hand. "That wasn't Grace at all. That was a dragon incantation."
"Dragon?" Harry looked up. "Like what happened with Lupin? But how is that possible? I thought..." he frowned, trying to piece it together. "Even I can tell Grace and dragon magic are different. They feel different."
"They are indeed very different," Melina confirmed. "Grace flows from the Erdtree, while dragon incantations..." she paused, studying him with renewed interest. "You must have some connection to the dragons. It's the only explanation for how you can use their power so naturally. The Lightning Spear just now, the Dragonclaw you mentioned that transformed your arm..."
"And the strange red Breath," Harry added.
Something flickered across Melina's face – concern? "Yes," she said carefully. "The Rotten Breath. That particular power..." She seemed to choose her next words with care. "It's not one to be used lightly."
"What do you mean?"
"Scarlet Rot is..." Melina began, but Kale interrupted.
"A nasty business," the merchant said, his usual jovial tone gone. "Seen it take whole regions. Turns everything to rot and decay. Not something you want to play around with, young Harry."
"But it saved us from the werewolves," Harry protested. "When Lupin called the others..."
"And it likely saved your life," Melina acknowledged. "But the Rot is... dangerous. Unpredictable. Even to its wielder."
Harry looked down at his hands again. "So I can use dragon magic, but not Grace? That doesn't make sense."
"Perhaps it does," Melina mused. "You're not from this world. Grace might not recognize you the same way it does other Tarnished. But dragon magic... dragon magic is older. More primal. It transcends the rules of our world."
"Like how you managed to use it back in your world," Kale added, rekindling his fire. "Though I must say, I've never heard of a dragon warrior who discovered their powers while fighting a werewolf. That's a new one, even for me!"
"But I still can't control it," Harry said. "The lightning just now – that was an accident. And with Lupin, I was desperate. I didn't know what I was doing."
"That's not uncommon with dragon powers," Melina said. "They often manifest in moments of great need. The trick is learning to channel them at will."
"Great," Harry sighed. "More training. Any chance this will be easier than trying to use Grace?"
"Well," Kale chuckled, "you've already managed to redecorate my roof, so I'd say you're off to a promising start."
"Sorry about that," Harry winced, looking at the damaged stonework.
"Oh, don't fret," Kale waved dismissively. "Adds character. Though perhaps we should continue your practice outside? I'm rather fond of what remains of my walls."
"Actually," Melina interjected, "we should rest. It's been a long day, and—"
A particularly loud howl cut through the night, closer than the previous ones.
"Blaidd?" Harry asked, remembering their earlier conversation.
"Likely," Kale nodded. "Though Melina's right – best to wait for daylight before seeking him out. Especially now that we know you can shoot lightning when you're upset. Wouldn't want to accidentally barbecue our potential ally, eh?"
Despite everything, Harry found himself smiling. "I suppose not." He settled back down by the fire, still occasionally glancing at his hand. "Tomorrow then. We'll try to figure out how this dragon magic works. Properly this time, not just..." he gestured at the damaged roof.
"Indeed," Melina said, though her expression remained thoughtful. "But Harry... about the Rotten Breath. Promise me you'll be careful with that power. Some things, once unleashed..."
"Can't be easily contained," Harry finished, remembering the way the werewolves' flesh had begun to rot. He shuddered slightly. "I understand."
"Good," she said softly. "Now rest. Tomorrow will bring its own challenges."
As Harry lay down, using his folded school robe as a pillow, he couldn't help but think about how Hermione would react to all this. She'd probably already be demanding to search through every book in existence about dragon magic, creating study schedules for mastering each power...
The thought made him smile, but it also strengthened his resolve. He needed to master these powers, whether they were Grace or dragon magic. It was his only chance of finding his way back home.
Above him, through the new hole in the roof, stars he didn't recognize twinkled in an alien sky, and he could see two large moons above, one smaller than the other, and somewhere in the darkness, a wolf continued to howl.
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