Avalon - Chapter 85 - A Great Gathering

A Great Gathering

It was a stunned group of witches and wizards, seemingly at a loss as to what they should do, that remained gathered in the meeting room of Camelot, each as speechless as the next, save for Myrddin and Arthur, both having become rather accustomed to the antics of one Harry Potter.

“He cannot surely be going to intercept them,” Lady Meadows whispered in disbelief. “Is this some kind of terrible jest?”

“I can assure you, Lady Meadows, it is no jest,” Myrddin sighed. “Harry Potter may be many things to many people, but his courage nor his ability be called into question. If there is any that can face what is out there, it is him.”

“But alone, with only one other?”

It was Arthur who chuckled, though it lacked any semblance of humour.

“My Lady, I watched him take to the sky to face off with a dragon and stand before a vast army of the dead that had been resurrected by the evillest of witches. I do not believe there is anything that Harry can do that would surprise me.”

“You do not seem concerned,” Lord Ogden pointed out.

“Oh, I am concerned, but my faith in him is much stronger than my worry. Truthfully, I find myself more taken aback by the existence of such creatures that roam your world than the knowledge of Harry hurrying off to fight them. What is it he will find himself facing?”

“Macnair?” Myrddin asked.

The man was quite the authority on creatures, a natural at taming them in his own unique way he refused to share with others.

“Nothing good,” the man muttered, his comically large moustache twitching irritably, and thick brows knitted together. “Trolls are just brutes that will try to kill anything they see as either food or foe. Ogres are different. They are smarter, more bloodthirsty, but not quite as large.”

“Do they have weaknesses?” Myrddin pressed.

The man hummed as he nodded.

“Trolls can be outwitted easily enough, and ogres have quite the fear of fire, even though their hides are quite resistant to it.”

Myrddin stood at the revelation.

It wasn’t much to go on, but if there was any advantage to be had, Potter and Peverell would need it, along with whatever other assistance they had managed to muster in the very brief time given.

“I think it best that you remain here until we return,” he urged. “Lord Carruthers, I will do my utmost to ensure your home is protected, but I can make no promises.”

The man nodded appreciatively, and Myrddin released a deep breath, uneasy about what it was he might face when he arrived in Lichfield in the coming moments.

He doubted it would be a welcome sight to greet him, but this was one of those pivotal moments that his presence might just be the needed difference.

Even if it wasn’t, Peverell and Potter would need all the assistance they could get, and without a true standing army ready to respond, he suspected there would be little of it to be had, as things were.

That would need to be remedied as quickly as possible, but for now, once more, it seemed that it would be Myrddin and Potter seeing off the enemy, with the addition of the rather ominous Owain Peverell at their side.

Bracing himself for a situation he could not be certain of, he vanished from within Camelot, and his senses were immediately assaulted by sounds and scents he’d rather he never had to experience.

The stench of the rolls filled the air, along with burning, excrement, and a myriad of other things he couldn’t quite identify so quickly, but it was the sounds of screaming, screeching, and roars of agony and fury that left him feeling perturbed.

As he took in his surroundings, he felt little relief to see Potter, Peverell, and another man, locked in combat with creatures that stood at least double the height of any of them, and four or five times as thick.

The former of the trio wielded his wand and blade, almost as one, cracking a long length of flame at the trolls and ogres, whilst clashing steel with the goblins that dared get close enough to the ensuing violence.

Those that were reluctant to, continued attacking the fleeing men, women, and children of Lichfield, cutting them down in swathes.

It was those that Myrddin shifted his focus towards, raising his own wand and banishing a sizeable group of goblins into one of the building they had set alight.

He took no pleasure in it, but it was something of a relief to see it collapse in over them, and their subsequent screams rent the air shortly after.

Not that Myrddin was granted even a moment to admire his handiwork, nor that of Potter as a troll thudded into the dirt, bereft of its head.

He found himself quickly set upon by another group of goblins, each baring its sharp teeth as they swung their swords, jabbed their spears, and fired arrows from their nifty little bows towards him.

Tearing away a chunk of ground just in front of him, Myrddin managed to create something of a crude shield to see that he was brought to no harm, and he readied himself for the inevitable breech of the rather lacklustre protection.

Given he’d needed to act on a split-second, it held up well enough to allow him to defend himself with something more to his liking.

It was when the very first tip of a spear was shoved through the wall of dirt that he sprang into action, bring his wand down in a wide arc.

The ground trembled beneath his feet from the force, but the goblins intent on killing him would not do so again; the brilliant white ball of fire immolating them instantly, and several others already making their way towards him.

Even so, the fighting continued, and Myrddin chanced a glance towards the others to see how they were faring.

From where he stood now shrouded in smoke and ash, he couldn’t be certain, but he could see each of the three shadows still on their feet, battling against what most would deem to be insurmountable odds.

Turning away to face his own foes, Myrddin frowned as he caught sight of something else that seemingly didn’t belong on a hill just in the distance.

As with his inability to see Potter, Peverell, or their companion so clearly, it was much the same now, but the shadows of five dragons, each with a diminutive figure seated atop them, was all but unmistakeable to the man that had seen such creatures before.

Myrddin would never consider himself a fearful person, but he could not help but think that if they found themselves facing such a thing now, not even the Dragonslayer himself would be able to save them from their inevitable demise.

(Break)

It had been a rather odd and sobering experience reading the many depictions of herself from very perspectives throughout history where Harry had come from, though Morgana had not been able to ignore many of the similarities to the woman she thought she had become.

It wasn’t as though that most were with their assumptions about her, but she would not consider herself a cruel person.

Harry would never have fallen in love with her if that were so, or perhaps it was that the cruelty spoken of in the stories written had never festered enough for her to become that very villainous woman.

Still, maybe she had been closer to it than she liked to admit, but was grateful it had not come to pass. Her life would certainly be different than the way it had turned out.

Even so, she did not appreciate being described as portly and sporting a moustache by some, though Harry had been rather amused by that particular depiction.

Morgana shook her head as she threw the book written by a certain Mr White into the fire, not wanting to be reminded of what may have been, or even what was partially true.

She was a shapeshifter, and most would certainly deem her to be a dark witch. Morgana was certainly capable of doing the most unpleasant of things, but not simply for the joy of it.

There was a part of her that enjoyed it, that she couldn’t deny, but she’d not acted on those impulses, not even in her darkest moments.

No, she had no doubt that meeting Harry had changed her fate, but as she felt an unpleasant edginess settle deep within her, there was a part of her that thought her life might just be that little easier if he hadn’t.

Love was no easy thing to face, especially when the one you held so dearly tended to find themselves in situations that could cause you great pain should the worst happen.

“Again,” she groaned, preparing herself for a sudden departure, and had done so by the time Helga had arrived only a few moments later.

“Salazar and Godric are already on their way to him,” she assured Morgana. “I will watch over the little one.”

Morgana offered her an appreciative smile.

“Was your husband so much trouble?” she asked.

Helga chuckled fondly as she shook her head.

“No, my husband took pride in being quite the dullard, and it was something I appreciated about him even more after I met Salazar and Godric. Those two have always had the penchant for finding themselves in trouble, much like your husband.”

Morgana smiled once more as she shook her head.

“Is it odd that it is one of the things I am quite fond of?”

“To be married to Harry, I think it has to be. Go on, I’m sure Taran would enjoy a story or two about his father.”

“Da?”

“Yes, Da,” Helga sighed as she took the boy in her arms. “Oh, he has been quite a pain, let me tell you.”

Morgana quickly placed a kiss on the boys’ cheek before hurrying from the home, taking to the sky as a falcon to clear the distance from the forest to the boundary of the castle without delay to once again assist her husband.

(Break)

His eyes drifted over what was unfolding in the village below before he looked to the sun. It had taken mere minutes for Harry Potter to arrive, and Dark-Eye took the opportunity to watch the man and scrutinise him closely.

“He is impressive for a human, abnormally so. Can you feel the magic he wields?”

His companions grunted, and though they were reluctant to admit it, they agreed. Only a blasted fool would think otherwise, and yet, Dark-Eye licked his lips in anticipation.

Little else would give him greater pleasure than being the one to kill such a man, and the other who arrived shortly after.

Myrddin Emrys cut quite the impressive figure himself, and although he was not known as a warrior, he too could fight competently.

Where Potter could use both blade and wand, Emrys relied solely on the latter.

Still, he was able to repel any attack sprung upon him, but it was the other man Dark-Eye was interested.

The tales of his deeds were as farfetched as any other he’d heard, and yet, from what he could see of Potter, he found that he no longer doubted them. No, Harry Potter was everything he’d been told, but so much more.

He would indeed prove to be quite the obstacle to overcome, but Dark-Eye was not concerned.

His numbers dwarfed any army the humans could collectively muster, and the trolls and ogres he had used today were merely a drop in a very large pale that was waiting to be unleashed upon his enemies.

This, for the leader of the goblins, was little more than an opportunity to see for himself what it was the enemy possessed, and although he was undeniably impressed, he saw nothing to instil doubt within him.

Even so, watching a man kill his own kind, trolls and ogres with relative ease was troubling, and even more so as two other figures arrived and threw themselves into the skirmish.

“Gryffindor!” Gutrot spat. “Bolga’s little pet!”

Though much older now than Dark-Eye remembered the man who’d been allowed to visit his people, his presence was unmistakeable.

“And Slytherin,” Grimjaw elaborated.

Dark-Eye continued to watch, barely acknowledging the two latest additions to the battle as Potter once more brought his wand to bear.

With a single spell, he cleaved through half a dozen goblin, splitting them in half as though he’d done so with the blade he carried.

“As ruthless and as bloodthirsty as any other, and with the talent to boot,” he murmured, petting the neck of the restless dragon he was sitting upon.

Were he to be more knowledgeable of the abilities of his enemies, he would perhaps be tempted to signal a full attack, but such a tactic might prove to be premature.

For now, Potter and his forces were only able to react to what was happening, but soon enough, Dark-Eye expected it would change. The humans would need to come together, after all, and that was exactly what he was relying on.

For too long, he and his kind had been relegated to living in the dirt beneath the feet of the humans, and despite his rather measured approach for the time being, he was keen to be rid of his oppressors.

He wanted there to be no doubt who was in charge of Britain when his victory was sealed, and for that, he could allow no pockets of resistance.

The humans needed to be defeated soundly and entirely, and for that, they must either surrender their right to use magic or die.

It did not matter to Dark-Eye what outcome would be reached. He would still be the king of goblins, and king of Britain itself, a thought that brought a feral grin to his lips.

“What is that?” Grimjaw growled, pointing towards the sky.

Dark-Eye frowned as he spotted the dark outlines of several things flying towards them. What they were, he couldn’t be certain, but he frowned as he held up a crystal to his white eye, grumbling in displeasure as he spotted a woman sitting atop a thestral.

He looked on curiously as she flew circles above what was occurring below, twirling her wand as she did so.

“Shall we stop her?” Grimjaw asked.

Dark-Eye pondered the idea for a moment before nodding.

“You go,” he instructed.

With only a nod, his companion took to the sky atop his magnificent mount, the green scales of the Vipertooth glinting even through the smoke from all the fires that had been set.

“You haven’t forgotten what they call him?” Blackfang murmured.

“Of course not.”

Dark-Eye lifted the crystal once more, eager to see what would unfold next as he continued to calm his own dragon, which was keen to enter the fray.

“Soon,” he soothed, patting the neck of the beast.

(Break)

He banished an enormous boulder hurled towards them by a troll back towards the creature, and looked on as it was sent stumbling backwards, undoubtedly with several broken ribs from the impact.

Even so, the troll was undeterred as it raised another above its head, and Harry was vividly reminded of the very first he’d encountered.

With a flick of his wand, the boulder remained in the air as the troll flung its arms forward, before it looked around in confusion when it found them empty.

The cracking of its skull rung out across the village, and this time, it slumped to the ground, unmoving with its brains oozing from its split skull.

Not that Harry was granted any time to relish in the small victory.

Immediately, he found himself engaged by another group of goblins, which he quickly fended off with a series of vicious curses courtesy of the Blacks, and slashes of his sword that killed almost instantly.

The basilisk venom imbued into the blade was proving to be most invaluable and had been the cause of death of many a goblin, three trolls and even two ogres that proved to be much brighter than their counterparts.

Instead of throwing themselves aimlessly at the trio, or swinging wildly with their crude weapons, they were taking a more calculated approach, striking when Harry, Owain, or Hook were otherwise occupied, meaning they needed to remain aware of the behemoths.

“FIRE, POTTER! THEY FEAR FIRE!”

Harry offered Myrddin an appreciative nod as he conjured an enormous blaze in front of the group of ogres, surprised that the man had arrived again to assist them when the odds were far from in their favour.

Despite this, they were holding their own well enough, though Harry knew the same could not be said if the goblins had committed more than the token force they faced now.

No, this was merely a test, but the nasty little creatures would leave disappointed if they were hoping to see the full force the magicals had at their command, even if Harry found himself wishing they had just a few more men with them now to lessen the burden weighing down upon them.

Hook and Owain were perhaps the two he would like most at his side, but even they were beginning to slow in their efforts, so when Salazar and Godric arrived only a moment later, the relief was felt by all three, even more so as Myrddin fought his way to stand side by side with them.

“What have you gotten yourself into this time, Harry?” Godric asked amusedly, using his wand to tear the tongue out of the head of one of the goblins.

Harry merely shook his head in response as he remained occupied with his own fight, hurling his dagger into an eye of one of the trolls that had managed to get a little too close to them for comfort.

The beast roared in agony as it stumbled backwards and fell into one of the fires Harry had lit, the roar turning into a scream as it caught alight. It began to rampage in a bid to extinguish the flame, only succeeding in crashing into one of its companions.

That troll too was immediately engulfed, and the two of them joined one another in their efforts to snuff themselves, killing several goblins as they lumbered around until they were set upon by their own kind, who clubbed them to death.

The smell of scorched flesh joined that of burning wood, but it was the arrival of the scores of thestrals from above that caught Harry’s attention, and he looked on as the herd dived to the ground, the legs flailing as they kicked out at the goblins, trolls, and ogres.

Still, it wasn’t enough to entirely shift the advantage, but Morgana’s presence was indeed much needed.

Despite their best efforts, Harry, Owain, and Hook had been unable to mount any true offense and had all but clung onto managing to defend themselves from the goblin forces.

“Well, shit,” Owain groaned, pointing towards the sky.

One of the figures Harry had become aware of upon his arrival was flying towards them atop a dragon, and just as it had at Camelot, he felt his heart sink into his stomach.

It immediately headed towards the airborne Morgana, who would be unable to outfly such a creature on the back of a thestral.

“GO!” Owain urged. “Just don’t be too bloody long about it.”

Harry nodded gratefully before dispatching another goblin with a powerful slash of his sword and taking to the air, flying towards the dragon that was closing in on his wife.

(Break)

She rained down spells on the ogres, goblins, and trolls below, her wand a blur as she unleashed curse upon curse. The situation she’d arrived in was much worse than she’d anticipated, and though Harry and the others were holding their own well enough, the risk of one of them being killed or injured was not negligible.

Morgana couldn’t care less im Myrddin died, and she even had to fight the urge to aim one of the spells towards him but given that he was doing his utmost to help the others, she refrained from doing so.

Still, even with her assistance, the creatures pressed on, and some began hurling rocks and firing arrows towards her in the case of the goblins, forcing her to climb higher so she was out of their range.

It was then that she noticed something else in the sky with her, and it was barrelling towards Morgana, its maw opened wide exposing its sharp fangs, and a murderous glint in its narrowed eyes.

There were few things in life she was fearful of; anything happening to her son or husband, waking up and the life she’d built with Harry had been little more than a dream, and never being given the chance for the two of them to grow old together.

However, it was a deep concern that filled her as she looked on almost helplessly as the dragon drew nearer, so near that she could see the expression of excitement adorning the goblin’s face who was riding it.

Nonetheless, for what good it would do, Morgana raised her and took aim, but her curse was batted aside by the little creature as she attempted to unseat him, leaving her vulnerable to the gout of fire she could see forming in the dragon’s mouth.

With her nostrils flaring, she raised her wand once more, even in the knowledge that it may serve no purpose, but before a spell could leave its tip, the dragon was knocked off course by a shadowy blur, and the air around Morgana grew suddenly frigid.

She watched as Harry appeared, hanging on one of the wings of the dragon, slowly but surely climbing his way onto its back, much like she imagined he’d done at Camelot so many years prior.

This time, however, it was not only the creature he needed to contend with but a goblin, who swung its sword at her husband.

“GO!” Harry instructed as Morgana moved to turn her thestral towards them.

Knowing he was right, she reluctantly did as she was bid, retreating far enough away that she could not be harmed, but that only left her in a state of concern as she looked on as Harry dangled precariously in mid-air, fending off the blows from the goblin as the dragon did its utmost to shake him from its wing.

It was with a feeling of horror that she gasped when Harry let go and began plummeting to the ground, only for her eyes to widen as the goblin was seized by a length of black chain.

The screams of the creature were quite chilling, though no more so than the dull thud of its broken body thudding to the dirt some two hundred feet below.

Morgana only had eyes for her husband, but Harry was nowhere to be seen.

It wasn’t until the dragon unleashed an ear-splitting screech that she realised he must’ve found another way to mount it, but that was where the struggle only just began.

The dragon thrashed around, doing it all it could to throw him of its back, but Harry hung on, though Morgana wasn’t certain how long he could do so.

She had heard of his exploits at Camelot, but to see it for herself made her realise just how truly courageous, and undoubtedly insane, the man she married was.

Even though it was difficult to watch, she found she could not take her eyes off the struggle, despite the ongoing battle below that seemed to be taking a turn for the worse without Harry there to assist the others.

“Come on,” she whispered encouragingly, gasping as once more, Harry was almost unseated by the furious dragon he was attempting to overcome.

(Break)

His grips tightened around the horn he’d managed to grasp around the dragon’s neck. Fortunately for Harry, the beast could neither bite nor burn him here, but that didn’t stop it from flying erratically or shaking its head as it attempted to remove him.

It was quite the precarious position to be in, and he could only shake his head at once again finding himself on the back of an unwilling dragon that could tear him limb from limb with little effort.

Even so, as ever, there was something quite exhilarating about the ordeal, and it unleashed something raw and primal within Harry.

Not that he would admit such a thing.

What he has doing was damned foolish, and he’d never intended to make a habit of it. Still, he was here now, and as he conjured a large chain around the dragons neck, he adjust his position so that he wasn’t relying only holding on to one of the sharp horns.

Although this dragon was not as big as the Hungarian Horntail he’d faced during the Triwizard Tournament, but what it lacked in size, it more than made up in speed and ferocity.

Nonetheless, Harry persevered, continuing to better his position as he clung to the serpent-like neck of the Vipertooth.

“Come on, give it up!”

It was only brief, but the dragon hesitated and Harry frowned curiously.

He had not intended to slip into parseltongue, but it seemed it had come naturally in the presence of the Vipertooth that had undoubtedly, and likely unwittingly responded to his use of it.

“You can understand me!”

The dragon hissed in response.

It was indeed furious, his intent only to destroy everything in its path including Harry, who once more found himself clinging for dear life on the chain he had conjured.

“You want your freedom.”

The Vipertooth roared in response before hissing something that Harry could not quite comprehend. Although he could not understand is as he could a snake, he could almost feel the desire of what he’d spoken of in the response.

“Help me! Help me and I will see that you are cared for before I set you free.”

Again, the dragon hesitated, and though it continued flying back and forth, it no longer tried to fling Harry from its back. If anything, it seemed to have calmed somewhat, and Harry thought that he was perhaps getting through to it.

“I give you my word as a speaker that I will free you,” he reiterated.

The screech that escaped the dragon was one of frustration, and yet, Harry could feel it beginning to surrender to him, not wanting to fight, but wanting to flee back to home to where it had been taken from.

“I will help you get home.”

His final words seemed to strike a chord with the dragon, and it relaxed, allowing him to take control of it via the chain wrapped around its neck.

(Break)

He unleashed a guttural growl of pleasure as he watched Potter plummeting towards the ground, only to scoff as a length of chain shot from the tip of the man’s wand and latch itself around Grimjaw’s neck.

The struggle between them was short-lived, and Dark-Eye and his companions hissed in displeasure as their lifetime friend helplessly fell to his death.

He bared his fangs in displeasure and continued watching as Potter returned to the dragon’s back in a bid to bring it to heel.

He chuckled at the very thought.

Each of the dragons had been tamed over the years, knowing only pain and suffering if they did not comply with the wishes of their master. So deeply ingrained into them was such fear, that they flinched at the goblins’ approach, cowering away in anticipation of experiencing more training.

Dark-Eye waited with a different kind of such, all but licking his lips hungrily as he watched Potter’s foolish attempt, but balked as the mount hesitated under his ministrations, before it stopped resisting him altogether.

“How?” he whispered in disbelief as the man overcame the will and fear of the dragon. “HOW?”

His companions remained grimly silent, and looked on as Dark-Eye did as the dragon dived towards the ground, its maw opening in the direction of the goblin forces below.

(Break)

Harry’s absence was indeed felt as he hurried off to deal with another dragon, but Godric, Salazar, Owain, Hook, and oddly, Myrddin continued to fight on against the goblins, the remaining trolls, and the ogres that were pressing them.

“He’s lost his bloody mind,” Hook snorted, pointing towards the dragon flying threateningly above them.

The goblin that had been top the beast had fallen from the sky a few moments prior, his body shattered by the impact against the solid ground.

Even so, the dragon was still a problem, as were the rest of the goblin forces that had attacked the village, and Godric did not doubt it had been done intentionally to lure Harry here.

They’d been prepared for his inevitable arrival and were doing their utmost to kill the defenders.

It was a sound plan and approach, but the goblins had made one vital mistake; it was Harry Potter they’d lured to them.

Even so, those watching from the hills in the distance did not seem to have any intention of following their companion. Instead, they continued watching the ensuing violence, undoubtedly taken aback by the resistance those here could muster between so few of them.

“Well, shit!” Owain cursed, nodding towards the dragon that was diving towards them, and Godric followed suit, cursing as he braced himself as best he could for what was to come.

(Break)

The dragon screeched a roar as it unleashed a gout of fire towards the swathe of goblins, trolls, and ogres, sweeping over them from little more than a dozen feet above.

Anything in the path of fire was instantly immolated, and chaos quickly followed as the creatures bid a hasty retreat.

In only two more passes over the fleeing attackers, few stragglers remained, and Harry led his mount away from the village whilst they fled into surrounding hills.

He watched as the others atop their own dragons took to the sky and flew away, allowing what would likely be another small reprieve before the next attack occurred.

“It’s alright,” he soothed cautiously as he removed the chain from around the Vipertooth’s neck and took a step backwards. “I promised I would set you free. Go.”

The dragon eyed him for a moment, and Harry wasn’t convinced that it wouldn’t burn him to a crisp until it flapped its powerful wings and disappeared towards the horizon.

He breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head before returning to the others where Godric, Salazar, Hook, Owain, and Myrddin were waiting for him.

“You know, that could’ve gone much worse,” Owain snorted humourlessly.

He had a few wounds to remember the altercation by, but nothing troubling, and the smile he wore was easy enough.

“Speak for yourself,” Harry sighed tiredly. “You only had to fight goblins, trolls, and ogres.”

“Because none of us are stupid enough to jump on a dragon’s back,” Hook pointed out.

“Well, if I didn’t, we’d all probably be dead,” Harry pointed out, deflating as he caught sight of Morgana walking towards them.

Intercepting her halfway, he wrapped his arms around her.

“I thought you weren’t going to be involving yourself in this stuff anymore.”

“I had a bad feeling about it. It was different from the other times.”

Harry nodded and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, we’re both fine,” Morgana sighed.

It took a moment for what she’d said to resonate with Harry, and Morgana giggled, her eyes brimming with tears as she nodded.

“Both of you?”

Just as he’d been the first time his wife had told him she was expecting a baby, harry found himself in a state of awe.

“When?” he managed to ask.

“I found out this morning. It still doesn’t feel real. Are you ready for another one?”

“Are you?”

Morgana rolled her eyes at him.

“I told you that just because our lives have been full of war, it doesn’t mean we don’t get to live, Harry. Of course I’m ready. I wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon after Taran, but there is nothing I want more than to have more children.”

Harry positively beamed at the sincerity she spoke with and instinctively placed a hand on her stomach.

“Another little one,” he murmured. “Go on, you get home, I’ll be there after I’ve finished in Camelot. We will celebrate.”

“Are we going to tell them?” she asked, nodding towards where Godric and the others were waiting.

“We will, just not yet, not with Emrys here.”

Morgana nodded her agreement and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll see you at home.”

With that, she whistled for the thestral she’d arrived on, and Harry wondered where she’d acquired a herd of the creatures.

Deciding to ask her later, he shrugged and returned to the others.

“Hook, can you get some others here to help clean this place up?”

“Of course,” the man complied, sending off a patronus to do so.

“Thank you,” Harry said appreciatively. “The two of you can return to Hogwarts. If you don’t mind, will you take Helga to check on Morgana? She says she’s unharmed, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“We will,” Salazar assured him, taking the subtle hint much quicker than Godric.

Harry offered the maa a nod.

“We should return to Camelot to explain what happened here,” he urged Owain and Myrddin. “Thank you too,” he added to the latter.

Myrddin bowed in response.

“We are on the same side in this. Even if it is only temporary, we must be able to trust one another for the battles ahead. I hope I have gone some way in earning yours, Harry Potter.”

With that. He vanished, and Harry frowned.

“That remains to be seen,” he murmured before following suit, still unsure of how the Wizard’s Council would choose to proceed despite what had happened here today.

(Break)

“Surely it cannot take so long,” Lord Carruthers mutter impatiently.

Most of the Lords and Ladies gathered within Camelot were deeply concerned, restless, with several pacing back and forth whilst they waited for word to reach them.

“Have none of you ever been in battle before?” Arthur asked.

None declared they had, and he shook his head.

“They can last for several hours, but perhaps you will discover that for yourselves before this war is done, especially if you cannot come together to fight the threat we face. These goblins are coming for all of us, and our only option is to fight against them as one.”

“And it is to be you to lead the charge?” one of the men scoffed.

Arthur shook his head.

“No, but me and my men will fight and help in any way we can,” he declared. “Do you have desire and ambition to lead it?”

The man visibly paled as he held up his hands.

“I am a merchant,” he protested. “None of us have experience in war.”

“Only one among you does,” Arthur pointed out, “and if you truly wish to win, I urge you to place what fighting men you have under his command.”

“As would I,” Myrddin declared as he entered the room with the bloodied Harry Potter and Owain Peverell.

All three had evidently won a hard-fought fight, none escaping entirely unscathed.

“We have managed to repel the attack,” Myrddin explained. “Lord Carruthers, your home is untouched, but this is merely the beginning. The goblins had undoubtedly gathered quite the force, and what we faced was just a small section of it. Trolls and ogres, and dragons, at least another four after Harry Potter here neutralised another.”

Harry was looking towards Myrddin in surprise, and the other man offered him something of a reluctant smile.

“It has been you that led us to victory against Guthrum and Cnut when they came for us, and I do not doubt you are the right man to lead our forces against the goblins. Arthur is right. If we are to win, we must fight as one cohesive unit, or we will be picked off by whatever army the goblins have amassed. Harry Potter is the man to lead us, and I will follow him into battle.”

Harry was taken aback by the endorsement, but Arthur nodded his agreement, as did Owain Peverell.

“There is none here that can deny your prowess, Potter. We saw what you did to the invading Irish,” Gaunt broke in. “I will have my men placed under your command for the duration of this war.”

“As will I,” Lady Meadows followed.

“And me,” Lord Rosier added, though he did so begrudgingly.

It was odd to see those Arthur knew had come to despise Harry so willingly following suit, but he realised that they were not doing it out of some twisted sense of loyalty.

No, they were doing so because none of these people had any intention of fighting themselves.

When the battles were taking place, they would be hiding in their stately homes, behind whatever magical protections they could put in place to ensure their lives were not affected by the war.

Even so, he was relieved to see them doing the right thing, even if Harry did not appear to be so.

He eyed each of them with suspicion but eventually nodded.

“Then we shall gather our great army here at Camelot,” he decided. “It is neutral ground, and between me, Myrddin, and Owain, we should be able to turn it into something of an impenetrable fortress. Send your men, and we will take the fight to the goblins as soon as we can. It will not do to allow them the time to continue as they are.”

The Lords and Ladies of magical Britain assured the man they would begin to do just that immediately, and when the room was empty except for Arthur, Myrddin, Harry, and Owain, it became eerily silent for several moments.

“So, to war once more?” Owain asked.

Harry nodded.

“To war once more.”