Allies Revealed

Ayodhya, capital of the magical province of India

The ancient city was merry with activity as Harry walked down the high street. Since India fell to the east of Mesopotamia, it was nearly ten in the night when he arrived at the International Portkey Terminal in the Ministry building. Even though it was quite late, the wizarding city was still bustling with activity, a phenomenon Harry realised, was common around the world. Bright lights and massive temples dominated the layout of Ayodhya, and so did large statues and sculptures dedicated to ancient Indian witches and wizards, their rich cultural heritage on display for all to see. Like the recently constructed New York City, the new headquarters of MACUSA, this beautiful city too had a Muggle namesake several kilometres away, with this one being a purely wizarding settlement.

Briefly stopping for dinner, Harry Apparated to his intended destination – a modest house set on the banks of the Sarayu River on the outskirts of Ayodhya. An amused smile formed on Harry's face as he briskly entered the house, the wards having instantly recognized him. His mentor was sitting in the living room, reading a book.

"Master, what is it with you and rivers?" Harry couldn't help but tease. "Each and every house that you and Lady Perenelle own is set on the banks of a river. Do you love the water that much?"

Nicolas Flamel smiled mysteriously. The room was lit only by the glow coming from the fireplace.

"I'm afraid Perenelle and I love water as much as we love air," Nicolas chuckled. "We can't seem to exist without it! Perhaps you can cure us of this illness?"

Harry smiled faintly at the poor attempt at humour. Like him, his master wasn't really good at making people laugh.

"Come. Sit, my chela. And tell me what happened in Bābili."

"The council granted us both the title of Grand Sorcerer, Master," Harry said softly.

Nicolas was beaming with pride. "I knew you could do it, Harry," he said. "I never lost faith in you. Did you speak to the Head Unspeakable?"

"Yes, Master. Croaker was initially leery about the Asthron, but I think we managed to make him see things from our point of view. I brought him into the fold and told him about the prophecy. He didn't agree to all our demands, but Daphne and Dylan did get into the Department of Mysteries as high ranking Unspeakables."

"Good, chela; very good," said Nicolas. He looked at Harry and hesitated.

Harry picked up on it at once. "What is it, Master?"

"You have completed your training in Alchemy, my child, and have exceeded my expectations in every way possible. Do you remember the condition in which I accepted you as my apprentice?"

"That you wouldn't limit my training to Alchemy alone, and that you will teach me more aspects of magic that you feel is essential for me to learn."

Nicolas nodded as he scrutinized Harry's expressionless face. "Well, the time is right for us to begin. Tell me, what do you know about Divination?"

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. He paused to gather his thoughts before answering. "It is an extremely ancient form of magic," he answered. "It has existed ever since humans realised they could wield magic outside their bodies – the primitive humans who were still evolving – and that was a very, very long time ago. Other magical species have their own versions of Divination, with the Centaurs universally considered the best in the art."

"Go on. How did Divination help at the end of the ice age?"

"At the end of the ice age, when the sea levels rose rapidly, Divination was the only source of warning for the population that a calamity was to strike upon them soon. Seers were able to predict the destruction of various magical cities and civilizations, and it was their efforts that led to our species from not becoming extinct. It is for that reason that Seers are respected and revered to this day. They are seen as messengers of Mother Magic, and it is a terrible crime to attack or use a Seer for your own benefit."

"Very good," praised Nicolas. "Now think back to your earliest lessons in magical history and tell me ... if Seers had indeed warned various kings and queens about the impending rise in sea levels, why didn't they heed their warning?"

"They did listen –"

"– not all of them, chela," Nicolas shook his head. "History has been muddled, and not many wizards know their true origin. Most of the wizarding royalty at the time ignored the warnings of Seers. The common people were divided; some listened to them, while the others chose to agree with their leaders, sitting contently, not knowing that nature was slowly ending their great civilizations for good."

Harry was confused. Where was his master going with this?

"Those ancient civilizations were spread all over the planet. They were an advanced society, and even without wands, their grasp on magic was exceptional, much like our civilization today. They were warned of a disaster, years, and in some cases, even decades in advance, but they didn't budge. Many witches and wizards left for safety, but by the time most of the population realised what had happened, it was too late. Atlantis, for example, a thriving and powerful magical kingdom thousands of years ago, is at the bottom of the ocean. Many more kingdoms and empires joined them. These people were warned ... and yet they chose not to listen to the magic of Divination. Why do you think this was?"

Harry was silent.

"Think, chela," Nicolas urged softly. "You can answer this."

"Bad leadership was the cause of their downfall," answered Harry quietly. "The kings and queens of the era were tasked with the protection of their people. They were arrogant enough to dismiss the claims of Seers or perhaps thought they could change the future. The common witches and wizards didn't want to leave because they're afraid of change. They all thought they were capable of taking on the brunt of nature's fury."

"Yes ... and no. It was not nature's fury, Harry. Some things are meant to happen, whether we like it or not. It is the will of Magic itself. The planet has a life-cycle. Anyone who can sense the planet's magical activity can tell you as such. The end of the ice age was normal. The ancient witches and wizards were just not willing to think such a calamity was beyond their capabilities. Most of them perished as a result. Those remaining were the ancestors of the magical humans we see today. Divination saved the human species from extinction."

"So you're saying that prophecies always come true?" frowned Harry. "I really don't believe that, Master. Had Grandfather Alfred not trained me since the time I was a child, I would have been ignorant of the existence of the magical world until I was eleven years old. My father would still be in Azkaban. Dumbledore would have moulded me into the boy that he wanted me to be. Had that happened, Voldemort would have won, or at least, the war would have resulted in the deaths of thousands. My entire life was changed only due to my magic whisking me away to Potter Castle. How then, would the prophecy have been fulfilled?"

"Prophesies are not mere ramblings of a drunken woman," Nicolas chuckled. "Ignorant people will tell you that a prophecy can be ignored; that not all of them are fulfilled. But you have to realise that these words are the warnings of Mother Magic herself – through a Seer. Prophecies always come true, without a doubt, in some form or the other. Sometimes you may not even realise that it has been fulfilled. They account for all possibilities. Even had you been a naïve child under Albus' guidance, I believe you would have still prevailed in the war against Voldemort. The war may have lasted longer, with enormous destruction and loss of lives, but you would have won. The magic of Fate is one of the purest forms of magic there is. Voldemort lost because he was stupid enough to think he was superior to Mother Magic, the primordial energy that created the universe itself. What arrogance! Such a disgusting creature could never hope to survive."

Harry was silent.

"This new prophecy," continued Nicolas, "was not only foretold by Sybill Trelawney but was also foreseen by every Seer in the world. And not all of them are humans. Most of them belong to other magical species. Why do you think the goblins respect you as much as they do? Two years ago, when you visited the Veela colony in France, why do you think the Queen invited you and your wife to her court? They know the prophecy exists! Not the human one, but the prophecy they had in their own culture. Your birth and eventual rise may have been foreseen centuries ago! That belief was maintained to this day, which is why you see so many magical species interacting with each other without hostility, a phenomenon you couldn't hope to see just a decade ago! They recognize you for who you are, and they're all working towards a single goal – the survival of magic."

"Who overheard Trelawney's prophecy?" asked Harry curiously.

Nicolas smiled. "She's one of your friends, chela. A very gifted and wise Seer named Luna Lovegood, the granddaughter of the famed wandmaker, Garrick Ollivander, who, incidentally, is a Seer himself."

"Ah."

Harry took a deep breath. "So what you're saying is," he said cautiously, "there is no way a war with the Muggles can be avoided? That the prophecy will come true, regardless of what Daphne, Dylan and I are trying to do to prevent exposure?"

"That is my belief," Nicolas said softly. "But I'm not a Seer. I honestly didn't fully understand the prophecy myself. Your friend, Luna, might be able to explain it to you better. You might want to ask her. However, I can certainly confirm that you do have allies. Allies that were thought to have disappeared a long time ago."

Harry's curiosity was piqued.

Nicolas took a deep breath. "But before I do, I have a confession to make."

A faint smirk appeared on Harry's lips as he spoke, "You and Lady Perenelle are not human. Is that it?"

The shock on the face of his master confirmed it. Nicolas Flamel was dumbfounded as he stared at his apprentice, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"H-How did you know?" he exclaimed.

"I suspected it ever since our first meeting, Master. Your aura was way off as compared to any other wizard. It was like nothing I had ever witnessed before. I never questioned you, but I did confide the matter with my wife. Daphne is a lot better at sensing magic than I am. The moment she met you and Lady Perenelle six years ago in Inbu-Hedj, she realised that you both are masquerading as humans."

"Amazing," Nicolas muttered to himself.

"The next clue you gave us was when you started calling me your chela. We spent years looking for any clue that would identify which language the word originated from. Finally, we stumbled upon a very old manuscript in the ruins of an ancient wizarding settlement in Magical India that explained the meaning of the word to us – apprentice; disciple. Daphne spent more time analysing the language, trying to understand where it came from."

Harry looked at his master shrewdly. "She believes you and Lady Perenelle are High-Elves. Is she wrong?"

Nicolas couldn't help but laugh. "It is rare to find such beauty and intelligence in one person, Harry. You are certainly lucky to have her as your partner in destiny."

The younger man simply smiled.

"Daphne was correct. Perenelle are I are Elves."

"Elves?" asked Harry in surprise. "Not High-Elves?"

"The prefix was added in recent centuries by wizards. There is no such thing as High-Elves or Wood Elves or House Elves. There is only one species – Elves."

This was certainly an eye-opener. Harry was dazed. "But the house-elves –" he protested, but was interrupted.

"– are a lot different and weaker than us," explained Nicolas. "That is not a story I can tell you. I'm sure, in time, the Queen of the Elves shall explain to you in detail about the house-elves, and why the Elves and humans – magical humans – have traditionally been allies, and why the Elves disappeared into obscurity thousands of years ago."

Harry simply sat, pondering about the latest development. "Then the Philosopher's Stone," he said slowly.

"Is a fake," laughed Nicolas. "Nothing in the world can make one truly immortal. Voldemort, for all his so-called advanced knowledge of the Dark Arts, never realised that even Horcruxes have a specified time before the soul withers into nothingness. The laws of magic cannot be broken. I always thought he was an idiot for believing himself to be truly immortal. He may have lived longer than any other wizard. Perhaps another hundred years or so … but he would have still died at some point. Horcruxes prevent one's death should they be attacked, but it wouldn't prevent your death should you die naturally. If Horcruxes could grant true immortality, then why is Herpo the Foul still not alive today? If Horcruxes were the only solution to complete immortality as Voldemort believed, we would have immortal wizards everywhere. All you have to do is kill ... assassins and bounty hunters will be the first to attempt the ritual. Unfortunately, it's not that simple."

The green eyes belonging to the Boy-Who-Lived narrowed in calculation. The Deathly Hallows were not made by mere mortals. The voice in the back of his mind whispered to him again. The laws of magic that Nicolas spoke of didn't seem to apply to him, Daphne and Dylan.

"As for Perenelle and I, we are merely agents of the Queen. We were tasked to masquerade as wizards and live in their society – all for one purpose. Wait for you to be born and assist you in your destiny."

"You waited for seven hundred years?!"

"When the existence of magic is threatened, seven hundred years is a short time. Besides, Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel are not our true names. They are only titles given to those Elves who live like us. In fact, we are the third generation of Flamels. The first Flamel couple set up everything necessary to interact with the wizarding society. The second couple rose to fame after spreading rumours about the Philosopher's Stone. Thanks to the work done by Perenelle Flamel I, it worked wonders. We are Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel III."

Harry exhaled. It was a lot to take in. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He also sensed a shimmer of magic as his master's elaborate Elvin glamour was unravelled. Dark-blue skin with large, pointed ears, orange eyes and sharp nails appeared on his body.

"I understand that all this is stressful, young one," Nicolas said gently. "But we still have time to prepare. Perenelle has been interacting with several magical species for years, waiting for the right time to introduce you to them. You do not have to worry about that. Right now, all I want you to do is focus on becoming the leader of the wizarding community. The rest will fall into place once you are the Supreme Mugwump. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, Master," Harry nodded. He hesitated. "Six years ago, you promised that you will not manipulate me and that even if you withheld information, you would reveal it to me at the right time. Thank you for not going back on your word. I'm honoured to be your chela."

Nicolas smiled, his orange eyes suspiciously moist as he patted Harry's head.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

Potter Castle

Astoria Lestrange gasped and moaned as she wrapped her arms and legs around her husband. Her grip on him was so tight that her nails dug into his flesh, drawing blood. Not that Dylan cared. He continued to pleasure his wife as he thrust his thick cock in and out of her vagina, making passionate love to her.

After they achieved orgasm, with Dylan spilling his seed deep inside her, he finally collapsed next to his wife, breathing heavily. Their naked bodies glistened with sweat and magic. Astoria was gasping for breath, riding out the after-effects of the latest orgasm. Her left leg was still twitching as Dylan's flaccid penis slipped out of her spent vaginal opening.

"How," she gasped, "how do you have the strength to do that over and over again? And how in the world are you so good at it?"

A hint of a smirk formed on Dylan's face, his mischievous eyes twinkling, but he didn't answer her. Instead, he kissed her softly, enjoying the tender moments he was able to spend with his wife.

He had still not told her about the Deathly Hallows. Harry and Daphne had urged him to confess to Astoria, but Dylan had decided not to. It would only bring unending pain to her, and there was nothing anybody could do about it.

Truthfully, Dylan didn't want to think about it either.

Successful marriages were formed when partners were honest with each other, true, but there were some secrets that were still too big for a marriage to handle.

And this was one such secret.

They simply lay in each other's arms, enjoying their post-coital bliss. Astoria kept looking at him, gently running her fingers through his slightly curly hair with one hand while occasionally fondling his balls with the other. As she did so, the young woman couldn't help but reflect on her marriage to Dylan Lestrange.

Their relationship had not been easy over the past six years. Like Harry and Daphne, they too had several problems and obstacles they had to overcome. Unfortunately, they also had to deal with the pain of separation at the age of sixteen, when Dylan went to Siberia to attend the academy. Astoria was brought out of her thoughts when she felt her husband gently squeeze her hand.

"I still can't believe you agreed to marry me," Dylan said softly.

Astoria smiled, intertwining her fingers with his. "I married you because I love you," she confessed.

"Then why did you –"

"Why did I reject your proposal the first time around?"

Dylan nodded hesitantly. That was an incident no one knew about. Not even Harry and Daphne. He had proposed to Astoria four years ago, when they were eighteen. She had rejected him, and he had never understood why that was. Their relationship had been tense for months after the incident and Dylan honestly thought there was no future for them. But slowly, over time, they were able to make their relationship work again, and just six months ago, the couple had gotten married.

"I rejected your proposal because I didn't know if I truly belonged in your life," answered Astoria truthfully.

There was a pause. "What?" Dylan exclaimed loudly. "Astoria, I've loved you for years! Why would you ever doubt that?"

"I never doubted your love for me, Dylan. But at the time, I was still not ready to accept the truth, even if it had been in front of my face since the beginning. As I grew older, I accepted reality for what it was. I decided to live in the present and enjoy the moment instead of thinking too much about something that is beyond my control."

"Tori, you're not making any sense."

Astoria smiled, though there was a hint of sadness to it. "What I meant was, at the time, I couldn't handle the fact that I'm not the most important person in your life."

"Astoria, you are the –"

She placed her finger to his lips, interrupting him. "You don't have to say that, Dylan," she said softly. "No matter what you claim to me otherwise, Harry and Daphne are – and will always be – the most important people in your life. And I'm almost positive they feel the same way about you. Sometimes they act like you're more important to them than their own children. It's very subtle, but I've observed it – in all three of you."

He was speechless, his eyes wide with shock. What could he possibly say to that?

"The truth was clear as day, but I didn't want to accept it." Astoria gently cupped his face, looking at him lovingly. "Four years ago, I was mad at you. I was also mad at my sister and brother-in-law because I knew that they meant more to you than anyone in the world. Your actions portray that. If someone asked you to circle the entire universe, you'd probably just point at them and say they're you're whole world. It is not just sibling loyalty. It's much more than that. But I've come to accept it because I love you, and I can't imagine living my life without you, just like you can't exist without them in your life. But I realised that it doesn't matter. Harry and Daphne have been through a lot. They have suffered, and so have you. How can I bring myself to cause you any more pain?"

"Astoria, I never meant to make you unhappy," Dylan croaked out.

"Dylan, it's not your fault. That's just who you are. Trust me, I couldn't have asked for a better husband than you. No offence to my sister, but I'm very glad that you're not like Harry. I'm blessed to be married to a man who is one of the most romantic, passionate and considerate lovers that nature has ever produced. You do make me happy and I know that you love me unconditionally. What more could I ask for?"

His grey eyes glistened with tears as Astoria buried her face in his muscular chest, breathing softly as she went to sleep. Dylan hugged her tightly as tears fell from his eyes and into her soft brown hair.

"You're right, Astoria," he admitted softly. "But you're truly a great woman for marrying me despite knowing that. You may not be with me until the very end, for I don't know how long I will live, but I promise you, I will cherish you, keep you happy and make all your dreams come true to the best of my ability. I love you."

Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, nuzzling her face affectionately, Dylan too drifted off to sleep. A hint of a smile formed on Astoria's face as she wrapped a leg around her husband.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

The Floo in the entrance hall burst into green flames as Harry stepped out. Yawning, he slowly walked up the marble stairs and to the second floor. He paused outside Dylan and Astoria's room. He could sense his brother's turmoil through their bond, but he knew that he couldn't disturb the couple. Moving forward, he opened the door of his oldest son's bedroom, frowning when he saw that Charlie wasn't there. The next two rooms were also empty.

Harry rolled his eyes in fond exasperation when he found all three of his children sprawled across his bed, pestering their mother to once again tell the story of how their parents got married.

A story that was probably the most boring one in existence, but since the children loved it, Harry had to bear with it. When she realised that her husband was home, Daphne's eyes twinkled with mischief.

"– and then we got married here, at the castle."

Belladonna crinkled her nose. "That's it?" she cried in frustration. "Daddy is not romantic at all!"

Daphne couldn't help but laugh, staring at her husband who looked mock-offended. "I guess you're right," she teased. "What was I thinking, getting married to a man who doesn't even know the meaning of the word romantic?"

"So that's how it's going to be, huh? My family is making fun of me when I'm away!"

"Daddy!" exclaimed Charlie. Harry caught him just in time as the boy jumped into his father's arms. "You'll never guess what happened today!"

"We caught a thief!" James grinned, jumping on the bed excitedly.

"Not one, but two!" Belladonna said, looking very pleased with herself.

Harry simply raised an eyebrow at his wife. Daphne sighed, shaking her head. Now was not the time to chastise them. The two of them would have to speak to them later so that such incidents wouldn't happen again. A soft conversation could accomplish more than yelling, especially for kids their age.

For one hour, Harry listened as his children excitedly recited the story about what happened at the hotel in Bābili. Finally, Charlie frowned.

"You should smile more, Daddy," he said. "See? Mum does it!"

Harry burst out laughing as he hugged the boy closer. "No one has ever dared to say that to my face," he chuckled. "Look, Daphne! After twenty-five years, I'm being told to smile by my children who won't take no for an answer!"

"See?" Belladonna said, pinching her father's cheek. "You look so cute when you smile, Daddy! Now I want you to smile all the time, okay?"

"I'll try, princess," Harry said, kissing her forehead affectionately. "Now come on. It's past your bedtime."

The twins whined, but James nodded sleepily. Grumbling, Charlie and Belladonna went to their rooms. After ensuring that they were tucked in bed, Harry returned, only to find James refusing to leave.

"I don't wanna sleep alone," he whined.

Harry chuckled and slipped into bed. "Oh, Jamie … what are you going to do once you go to Hogwarts?"

James huffed as he sat on his father's stomach, folding his small arms across his chest. "I'm never going to Hogwarts!" he declared.

"Why not?" exclaimed Daphne in surprise. "Don't you want to enjoy your teenage years at school?"

The five-year-old boy shook his head. "Uh-uh! If I go to Hogwarts, then I'll have to leave you! And I'll never leave you and Daddy. I'll be with you forever and ever!"

A shadow passed over Harry and Daphne's faces, but it was gone before James could see it.

Harry lightly tapped the tip of his son's nose. "We still have six years for that, don't we?" he said softly, kissing James' hand. "We can make a decision then. Jamie, you're burning up!"

"He has a fever," Daphne yawned. "Don't worry. I've given him the potion. He'll be fine by tomorrow morning."

James squealed with delight as his father levitated him, gently floating him in between the couple. Quite exhausted, the little boy cuddled up to his mother and was off like a light within a minute.

"What is it?" whispered Daphne, having picked up on it immediately as she gently rocked her son.

"You were right about Master Nicolas," Harry answered softly. "He and Lady Perenelle are Elves."

He spent the next several minutes briefing her about what his master had told him. Daphne didn't look surprised.

"You might want to talk to Luna as soon as possible," she advised. "The more we know, the better we can prepare."

Harry nodded. "I need to talk to Astoria too. She knows more about magical law and regulations than any of us. I'll certainly need her help in order to amend the International Statute of Secrecy."

Daphne hummed. "Good night, Harry," she said softly, hugging James closer. Harry smiled, kissed his son's head affectionately as his eyes drifted shut too.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

Nesebar, capital of the magical province of Bulgaria

Supreme Mugwump Ivan Krum threw the newspaper down in disgust as he read the headlines.

HARRY AND DAPHNE POTTER AWARDED THE TITLE OF GRAND SORCERER

Of all the people in the world, why them? Why couldn't the Sorcerer's Council have simply laughed in Potter's face when he showed up? Krum's blood boiled as he saw the smiling face of Harry Potter that was on the front page of the newspaper.

With an angry flick of his wand, the newspaper burst into flames. Krum took deep breaths to calm himself. His opulent surroundings still looked too alien to him. The previous building that housed the headquarters of the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic had been shifted here, a new city that was a purely wizarding settlement. It disgusted Krum that he had been unable to stop it. The poison inflicted by Potter's words and fame had seeped far and wide.

The mirror on his desk vibrated, and his secretary's face appeared on the screen.

"Sir, Miss Hermione Granger is here to see you."

Krum nodded. "Show her in."

Less than a minute later, twenty-five-year-old Hermione Granger entered the room, smiling at the leader of the international magical community whom she had met several times over the years due to her line of work. She respected Ivan Krum a great deal, and the Supreme Mugwump was also quite fond of her.

"Thank you for seeing me, Your Excellency," she said. "I hope I didn't disturb you."

"Not at all, Hermione," Krum shook his head. "Please take a seat. What can I do for you?"

Hermione sighed. "I'm afraid I'm here for the same reason as last time. The I.C.W.'s latest trade bill is causing unrest in our Wizengamot. Apparently, they feel that trading with the Muggles will be a violation of the International Statute of Secrecy. I was sent here to tell you that Britain will be voting against it."

Krum snorted. "That's nothing unexpected." He surveyed her critically. "So, they've finally given you the promotion that you rightfully deserve."

The young brunette flushed with pleasure at that. "Yes, Your Excellency," Hermione glowed happily. "I'm now the deputy head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"I'm happy for you, Hermione. You are perhaps the brightest witch of your generation. I'm sure you'll scale new heights and one day, perhaps, even become the Minister of Magic."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate your confidence in me."

Krum nodded slowly. "Tell me, Hermione … what do you think of the Free Trade Bill that is tabled before the Confederation?"

"I think it's a very wise move, Your Excellency," Hermione said fervently. "With those ridiculous trade restrictions repealed, wizards can freely trade with Muggles without those outrageous taxes they would otherwise have to pay on such income. How they even put such a restriction is beyond me! Why did the Confederation agree to it at all?"

A low chuckle escaped Krum's lips. "People fear what they don't understand, my dear child. That is true for both wizards as well as Muggles. The Statute of Secrecy was enacted more than three hundred years ago … Muggles have since evolved. I can see it, but my colleagues don't. Ever since I was elected, I've been doing my best to reduce the tensions between our two worlds, just like my predecessor had done."

"Professor Dumbledore?" asked Hermione eagerly.

"Yes," Krum sighed. "He was my mentor. I met him shortly after my family had been slaughtered by Gellert Grindelwald, and it was with his help that I was able to rise to the seat of Supreme Mugwump."

Hermione hesitated. "Your Excellency, I don't mean to pry, but why did Grindelwald target your family? During the Triwizard Tournament, your nephew, Viktor, confessed to me that his grandparents had been murdered, but he never told me why."

A dark look appeared on Ivan Krum's face. "Grindelwald was, in many ways, not unlike Voldemort. He too craved power, only he was far more influential that Voldemort could have ever hoped to be. He amassed a huge army, mostly by promising people power and manipulating them from the shadows. My father was a powerful man in Bulgaria, and he was the only thing that stopped Grindelwald from conquering this country. Grindelwald murdered my parents, and five years later, murdered my wife and child."

"I've heard that … that your wife was a Muggle."

Krum smiled. "Yes," he said softly. "A wonderful woman, she was. I was blessed to have met her. We were married for six years, and our daughter was only four when Grindelwald killed them – to show his might and thus dominate our magical government. He hated Muggles, you see. He wanted a war between wizards and Muggles in order to subjugate everyone, with him as the supreme leader. If not for Professor Dumbledore, we might still be under his oppressive rule."

Hermione smiled. "Professor Dumbledore was truly a great wizard."

"That he was. Unfortunately, there are those who would do anything to destroy the reputation of such a noble soul."

"Your Excellency, are you referring to Harry Potter?"

Krum growled in anger. "That boy has caused innumerable problems! In the past six years, he has destabilized everything that Dumbledore tried to accomplish. Look at your surroundings, Hermione! Where are we? A new city … a city with absolutely no wizard-Muggle interaction at all. Give it a few months, and you'll see the same everywhere in the world. This whole idea sickens me!"

"Then why didn't you stop it, sir?"

"It does not fall under the purview of the I.C.W.," Krum said bitterly. "Only the regional magical governments can take such decisions. I tried to stop it, but no one listened to me. An enlightened idea it was, they said. Harry and Daphne Potter are revolutionaries, they said. Hippogriff shit! Such actions will cause nothing but further divide between the Muggle and magical worlds. With those two now awarded the title of Grand Sorcerer, the biggest achievement that can ever be officially recognised, they'll be unstoppable."

"Potter has always been a pureblood bigot," Hermione sighed. "I should know. I went to school with him."

Krum laughed. "Oh, he's not a pureblood bigot, Hermione. Blood-purity, a problem that was mostly restricted to Magical Europe, is very quickly fading away, to be replaced by the theme of 'magic is might.' Isn't that message displayed outside the Ministry building in Camelot?"

Hermione grimaced.

"This is how Dark Lords began their journey," spat Krum. "They slowly rise to power, seeking support everywhere, appearing as though they want to protect their people, and by the time you realise that he is a Dark Lord, your greatest enemy, they would have already sunk their venomous teeth into the government. You'll be left helpless. This is how Grindelwald and Voldemort took over. And soon, the same will happen again, this time with Harry Potter."

Hermione was aghast. "Your Excellency, surely you are exaggerating!" she cried. "Potter is a bigot, yes, but – but – a Dark Lord? I really don't think –"

"Why not?" snapped Krum. "Let's scrutinise his personality and actions, shall we? He's a known Muggle hater. Professor Dumbledore told me this when the boy was just eleven years old. He's the Lord of the Peverell Clan, the richest family in the world. His adopted father is the British Minister of Magic, and his mother, the head of the British D.M.L.E. He's the Boy-Who-Lived, the only known survivor of the Killing Curse. At the age of sixteen, he defeated Lord Voldemort, one of the most feared Dark Lords in recent centuries, second only to Gellert Grindelwald, and rose to fame because of it. It was him who orchestrated the construction of Camelot and put the idea into Sirius Black's head. It was him who convinced everyone else to do the same, and it was thanks to his efforts that there is no wizarding settlement in Muggle areas anywhere in the world today."

"He walked into an I.C.W. emergency meeting as though he owned the place, and insulted me in front of the entire Confederation. He has the ear of the global Head Unspeakable himself. Potter has spent the last six years interacting with several politicians from around the world. He knows them personally and has earned the respect of each and every one of them. Even the ones who hate him wouldn't dare challenge him, for they are absolutely terrified of his powers. And that fear is not unfounded. Do you even know how many times his political enemies from different parts of the world have tried to assassinate him over the past six years, when they sensed Potter's influence rising and their own political block dwindling? Seventeen! And he has survived each and every encounter, with each of those deadly assassins killed! There is no denying it, for I have felt it myself – he is ridiculously powerful. His political growth has not been sudden, Hermione. It's been gradual. Potter has been working on it for years!"

"His adopted brother, Dylan Lestrange, is considered by many, albeit secretly, as one of the most powerful and talented duellists of our time. His wife, Daphne Potter, is a master in the field of Enchanting. Both of them, very recently, were inducted as Unspeakables. Even as the Supreme Mugwump, I was unable to stop it. Do you know why? Lestrange is a graduate of a school run by the Unspeakables. He's so cunning that he entered into a magically binding contract with the I.C.W. In essence, we can't get rid of him. Daphne Potter," Krum snorted, "is a Grand Sorcerer. People will laugh in my face should I even think of booting her from the department. My sources have told me that Potter will be joining the Wizengamot tomorrow. Mark my words; he will be elected as the Chief Warlock by the end of the week. If he doesn't make himself the head of the British delegation to the I.C.W., then I'll eat my own hand!"

Hermione was stunned.

"Tell me … where does all this lead to? When does it culminate? What are his motives? A powerful wizard who hates Muggles, destroys those who stand in his way, and is seizing power globally … who does that remind you of?"

"Gellert Grindelwald," breathed out Hermione.

"Exactly," Krum chuckled darkly. "I am the Supreme Mugwump, the chosen leader of the entire international magical community. It is my duty to protect them from the wrath of Dark Lords who seek to destroy the world. I swear in the name of Albus Dumbledore, I will do everything in my power to ensure that Harry Potter will never achieve his goals!"

Hermione took deep, shaky breaths so as to calm down. Never had she realised the danger posed to them by Harry Potter. Ivan Krum was truly brilliant to have figured all this out. So, it was without any hesitation that she said, "I am with you, Your Excellency. I promise to help you in any way I can."

"I knew I could count on you, my dear child," Krum said, his eyes soft with fatherly affection. He leaned forward. "I'll take care of a few things from my end, but this is what I want you to do."

Hermione listened attentively.