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XXIII. Ferocity

Once again, much of this depends on your villainous style, so take this section with a grain of salt- a well constructed appearance of someone with class, a majestic and composed ruler, could be ruined if you just went out and absolutely pummeled someone. Some tasks might be better left to your capable subordinates- but if you can get away with it, giving the appearance of being teetering on the edge of a violent, possibly even deadly outburst can be useful. Not necessarily among loyal minions, but in other places... being known as someone powerful is absolutely a plus, even if you don't necessarily express it through rage.

As it turned out, Luna began to visit more frequently, to Margaret's ire. With a bit of help, Luna began small scale publishing of the Quibbler in Doggerland- which was alright, Harry supposed, but the real prize was her knowledge. Not necessarily of fantastic creatures… but of printing.

She was a massive help to their attempts to make copies of magical texts- she knew the spells and enchantments that allowed the entire process to run smoothly, to the point where Harry was certain they could produce enough copies of his book on Parseltongue to meet demand. That was more than enough reason to indulge her- Harry did try to keep the people from laughing at the Quibbler right in Luna's face, though.

Other than that though… he largely tried to let the people of the island run themselves. Quite a few of them- at least, the werewolves- fled from government overreach, so Harry figured that a bunch of grown men and women would want to take orders from a teen, even if they followed his ideas for the castle. If he really needed something done he'd try to get the vampires to handle it, for the most part- Harry hoped that their lack of giant staves and princely authority made them more approachable.

(At least among the werewolves, there was definitely a bit of quiet awe, especially when they were informed that Potter rose the island by himself. This was in addition to his casual ability to redirect the weather as he pleased, for things as minor as assuring slightly better conditions for the greenhouses. The fact that he had seven unusually old vampires serving under him definitely helped that reputation.)

Luna tried to interview everyone she could, of course, and collected no small amount of testimonies about life on Doggerland- of course, Harry made it clear that if they didn't want to be interviewed, Luna shouldn't, but some did talk. Their testimonies were published piecemeal over several weeks in the Quibbler- sales exploded.

Of course, there were some folk who didn't take so kindly to the fact that Harry was being talked up by vampires, werewolves, and the frogs. (The frogs might have been unusually pretty, but they were still frogs.) Admittedly, it wasn't like they could really expect a response from Harry Potter, Prince of Doggerland, Defeater of Voldemort, recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class, etc., etc.

Any and all attempts to visit him- whether for good or for ill- tended to fail in spectacular fashion. Even if the weather seemed perfectly clear, and if you had a good idea of where you were going, the weather would rapidly turn. To make the obvious pun, it was something of a bolt from the blue. Stiff gales and great waves would turn even the most determined ship back, although mysteriously none got destroyed.

Some earlier expeditions did manage to get close enough to spot something before the weather turned them away: a great tower high above the churning sea, dark figures flitting through the water (mermen?), and a figure on a wharf, his eyes burning green.

For some reason, Harry didn't get a lot of visitors- or even attempts to visit- after a while. Of course, he didn't particularly mind. The castle was shaping up very well, and had slowly made its way up to the level of a modest skyscraper, by the most generous definition- that was, over a hundred and fifty meters.

If any attempts at sailing or flying by had gotten close, they would have seen the tower's smaller features. The greenhouses which ringed her base, the herds of thestrals and other magical creatures which grazed in kennels… Further up on the tower, complex windows, terraces, and arches gave the upper floors an almost delicate look, giving peaks at lush gardens.

Without seeing those… the tower looked a touch more menacing, a great silhouette which loomed above the North Sea, almost seeming like a challenge. It almost seemed to shout: this was where Harry Potter was, and this was where he would stay!

As time went on, the phenomena at the Dogger Banks became something of a fact of life for muggles. There was some speculation it was connected to the proceeding weird fog activity, but that was still up in the air. A lot was up in the air, especially with the extremely odd storms that surrounded it. It had been the starting point of a lot of storms- one that typically blew out incredibly quickly, but ones that definitely threw the meteorologists for a loop.

Some of the more nutty theorists thought that it was some sort of spatial anomaly, with people throwing around ideas like the fabric of space-time being folded or pleated… of course, this was backed by almost no evidence, but it was fun to speculate just a bit.

Any attempts to look at the area through satellites were similar failures. Sure, you might be able to spot some cloud cover, or some ocean- or a bit of what the theorists were one hundred percent certain was an island- but it was horribly blurry and basically useless.

Dudley Dursley didn't care all that much. Sure, he read about it in the papers and all that, but it didn't matter too much to him. He heard there were plans to make movies or the like about it, though… maybe it would make a good date night?

For a moment, Dudley considered the idea that it might have been magic. If he had a way to contact Harry, he might have tried writing to him. It's not like he could have just grabbed any owl and shoved a letter into its claws… Well, he certainly hoped that Harry was doing alright. The wizarding blokes didn't even have the courtesy to tell the Dursleys if the whole mess had blown over!

A more fanciful part of Dudley wandered if it was perhaps- what was his name? Vold? Mold? Moldy-something?- the evil bloke's home base, or something to that effect. Perhaps that whole business was out of his life forever now. Or maybe not.

The Philippines were… complex. That was probably a good descriptor of the islands, which were filled with a number of different cultures and traditions. The archipelago was diverse, bigger than Britain, and even more peopled than Great Britain was, by a margin of some ten million- and considering just how thick Britain was with magical myths and folktales, the Philippines would have to be much the same. Unless the magicians were forced to drive the magical creatures further back, or even make them go extinct...

They eventually decided to park the ship on an island called Cebu- and even here, on the other side of the Pacific, the legacy of the Spanish still loomed large. Apparently, the Spanish expedition to circumnavigate the world had made a stop here- before Magellan took a poisoned arrow helping the King of Cebu fight his rivals. His second in command got the mission back to Spain, told tales about the 'savages' of the islands, leading to Spanish invasion.

That was, of course, why they were called the Philippines- for the Spanish King Philip- and that name rolled off the tongue a lot easier than the Town of the Holy Name of Jesus, which was what the Spanish called their settlement on Cebu. Bit of a mouthful, that. Still, that did mean they had some neat old churches and stuff sitting around- not necessarily the sort of thing Harry felt compelled to include in his castle, but he had realized that he had become something of an architecture buff during the process of construction.

Of course, there was more to the Philippines than just buildings- even if Cebu was one of the biggest cities in the entire country- and eventually Harry decided to wander around the jungles for a while, to see if anything magical was afoot. He was starting to think that his luck drew him to magical creatures or something; considering the fact that Harry was the subject of a prophecy, he would almost say it was destiny. Or something like that. Maybe he just had bad luck.

He did make sure to grab some local cuisine first- a dish in peanut sauce, with oxtail and the return of the much famed tripe- before plunging into the depths of the jungle.

Perhaps Harry should have been concerned about how the Nagual magic was impacting his mind- he wasn't sure if the changes in his behavior were normal, something to be expected with Animagus changes, or not. Still, he had to admit that being a puma was pretty fun, just prowling about- never engaging in anything as embarrassing as letting people pet him or huffting catnip! (Hermione had given him an enchanted cat tower as a late, second Christmas gift, compounding on the issue. Harry would admit it was a little funny.) The jungle let him indulge in some new interests that he tried not to display on the island, in the presence of his friends and godson.

He was a lethal prowler, a killer in the night, an ambusher… not something he could really do without scaring the daylights out of his people. But now… well, he could let himself go wild. It took a bit of practice to get his first few attacks right, but soon enough he was leaping and tearing with the best of them.

While engaging in some slightly less orthodox cuisine (namely: raw, eviscerated boar) Harry caught a foul scent, one that even managed to cut through the smell of blood. It was unnaturally bad, so bad Harry almost thought that it was magically enhanced… and despite the unpleasant stench, Harry decided to investigate.

When Harry tracked the creature, Harry came to the conclusion that it was definitely magical- an odd, almost goatlike creature that walked backwards, its head… between its legs? It had an unusually long tail as well, and now that he was close Harry could tell that a bit of that smell was from blood which caked the creature's maw. Human blood.

Harry leapt, claws flashing, and the creature attempted to retreat… but some two hundred odd pounds of puma crashing into you tended to make retreat a touch more difficult. A bite into the shockingly dense muscle was absolutely horrible tasting, but Harry certainly wasn't planning on eating it, especially if it fed on blood.

Some human part of him almost wondered if it was intelligent, if he was killing something kind of like one of his own vampires… but the puma, more than a little repressed, indulged a deep desire to redden its teeth and claws. The creature opened its maw and lunged for a bite- not at Harry, but at the ground, at what little shadow Harry cast in the dark night. There was a pain like Harry was getting bit near his neck.

At the very least, the pain seemed to fade a little when Harry tore away at the creature. Whatever odd magic let it bite through shadows wasn't of much use when Harry was shredding it. Eventually, Harry was pretty sure that it was dead, the odd, goatlike body limp in his jaws.

Sniffing the air, Harry realized he was still pretty close to whatever settlement the monster had picked its victim from was close. Unceremoniously, Harry dropped the body and transformed back into human form, vanishing under disillusionment and checking to make sure that everyone in the little village was okay.

Thankfully, Harry couldn't seem to find anyone who was too badly injured, even as people woke up and rushed out to look at… whatever Harry had killed. He could hear some shouting, one word being repeated many times. Sigbin. Sigbin! Sigbin!

Harry realized that a bit of the creature's blood, along with his own, was still on him. Woops. Probably good that no one saw him, then.

Just to make sure that he was all right in the head before landing in Japan, Harry scheduled a meeting with McGonagall. Thankfully, she didn't really buy any of the things the papers were saying about him, and actually complimented him on some of his transfiguration work- once she had made sure he actually performed the spells correctly.

"McGonagall, you can keep a little secret from the Ministry for me, can't you?"

She sighed. "I can, but could the ministry even arrest you for whatever you've done this time?"

"Probably not." Harry decided to get straight to the point- so he transformed himself into a puma. Thankfully, Harry had managed to get her to talk with him somewhere where there weren't dozens of paintings watching his every move.

McGonagall sighed as Harry transformed back into human form. "Like father, like son, I suppose…"

"Well, not exactly…" Harry said, making McGonagall give him a curious look. "I didn't do it the usual way. I used a Mexican ritual. I'm not even entirely sure if it's the same thing as Animagus transformation."

"You think…?"

"I'm just saying it's possible. Actually, why don't you test it for me?" Harry transfigured back into puma form, and McGonagall cast the spell that would typically force a reversion of the Animagus transformation… but there was nothing. Harry gave a delicate lick to one of his paws, before McGonagall went into a stream of basic indecipherable Scottish-accented muttering. He supposed that whole "is this normal for an Animagus" question got a touch more complicated.

With the excuse of making up for missing his seventh year and no small amount of nostalgia (which he wasn't lying about) he managed to make his way out onto the grounds. He walked into the Forbidden Forest and pulled out his staff.

"Accio Resurrection Stone!" He shouted. For a few moments, there was no result, and Harry almost felt a bit of relief- at least until something slammed into his hand, nearly drawing blood. Kneeling down, Harry picked up the stone.

Admittedly, he didn't really want it, at least for bringing back the dead. Yes, dropping a stone on the floor of a forest was definitely a good way to get it lost, but if he really wanted it gone forever, he could give it to the mermen, let them drop it somewhere. That removed any chance of a student finding it, or deforestation revealing it. Was that a minor chance? Absolutely. Was it possible that it was the collector in Harry speaking, wanting a few moments more with the stone? Yes.

He knew, without a doubt, that letting the others get their hands on it probably wasn't a good idea. Harry was almost tempted to use it himself, and while some small part of him hoped that with careful use it could provide closure, especially for the vampires, caution was obviously important. He would probably have to stop Margaret from talking to King Charles, though…

Just dumping the stone in the little memorial room in the castle would probably cause problems, at least if people realized what it was, but there were some potential uses for it. Maybe it would be possible to make something good out of it, if used carefully. Or maybe it was bunk.

As he walked back to the castle, leisurely tossing the stone into the air, he saw Dumbledore's grave out of the corner of his eye. Where the last Hallow lay, practically calling out for Harry. He kept on walking.

Perhaps he'd kick up a nice big gale and toss it into the sea, instead. Could you skip the Resurrection Stone?

XXIV. Unusual Allies

Sometimes, the usual Dark Lord schtick gets a touch cliched. There's nothing wrong with a conventional approach, if you can execute it well, but sometimes there's a certain value to shocking your foe with something unusual. Unconventional spells are one thing… magical or beastly allies your enemy don't know how to handle certainly help. Banshees, with their ability to kill with their infamous keening, Chupacabras or Cu Sith… they can also help with your reputation, if they're especially menacing.

Their first stop on the grand tour of Japan was going to Okinawa- or Ryukyu, he supposed- in no small part because it played host to a military base. An American one, that was- Japan had it's war privileges taken away, after all. So if Harry's Japanese wasn't quite up to snuff he might be able to survive thanks to all the English speakers in the area.

Unfortunately, before he could get so much as a handful of pronunciation tips, Harry was approached by a gentleman walking with unusual purpose. It was perfectly possible that he could have just been some government official trying to keep people from sneaking in, or someone who was supposed to be suspect characters away from the military base… but when he greeted Harry by name, Harry knew he was magical.

Thankfully, Harry didn't have to talk to a magical official in a language he wasn't completely confident in, as the man knew English. "What brings you to Japan, Mr. Potter?"

"Oh, just travelling." Harry said. "Are there any rules I need to follow, or the like?"

There were rules Harry needed to follow. Quite a few of them, actually, thanks to the Bureau of Onmyo, which was apparently something rather like the British Ministry of Magic. Still, he wasn't going to do something stupid like busting the Statute in a foreign country… or anywhere, really. Hoodwinking the muggles was a little, no, a lot shitty, but he recognized just how big of a mess a potential reveal would be.

Thankfully, Okinawa was touristy enough that a weird British kid just kind of… showing up didn't cause too much trouble, at least not any that couldn't be solved by some careful use of magic. He didn't even really need to play the part of a tourist- he was genuinely interested in some of the castles and stuff.

He even managed to test out his Japanese- he had to have his pronunciations corrected many, many times, but it was sort of workable! Kind of. If they talked to him like he was a child. It was a work in progress, alright?

Harry may not have had a perfect grasp of the Japanese language, but thankfully he could manage to use vending machines. They had quite a few of those, and out of curiosity more than anything he grabbed a few cans of coffee. What a country.

From there… well, Harry figured he'd poke around the mountains a bit. The most obvious of these targets was Mount Fuji, quite obviously, and it was big enough that it could be spotted from the harbor. Of course, it wasn't like Japan was lacking in mountains other than Fuji, and there was quite a bit more to see than just the major metropolitan areas. So he went inland, searching for… well, he wasn't entirely sure. Some idyllic little town in the country, maybe, or treasure, if some was around.

The castles were pretty interesting though, with features that reminded him of the Inca walls he saw in Peru- no mortar used at all. Apparently, the lack of mortar meant that they could shift ever so slightly with earthquakes, an interesting feature that Harry noted before continuing inland, hoping to maybe find something interesting in the mountain passes.

Thankfully, Harry was a wizard, or his impromptu trip might have ended up with him freezing to death. It was, after all, pretty cold, and if someone couldn't literally conjure layers they'd be in a touch of trouble. For him, it was basically just camping, where he used magic to set up the tent and fire instead of bringing the materials along or chopping firewood on site. Still, he knew not everyone was quite so lucky as he was.

So when Harry heard a voice crying out, he immediately shot to his feet. He didn't even really care if he would be breaking the statute on a small scale, if it meant saving a life. He couldn't quite make out what the person was saying, but responded. "Hello? Over here!"

After a few moments, a figure stumbled towards Harry, their breath coming in noticeable plumes. The first thing Harry noticed was how ill-fitted her clothing seemed for a trip into the mountains. Well, in the sense of tailoring, it was clearly remarkable, a beautiful white kimono with delicate patterns in icy blue, which contrasted against a curtain of long, dark hair. How she managed to get all the way out here, in a fairly formal looking dress, Harry couldn't comprehend, but she sat down next to him, shivering.

Before he even asked her any questions, Harry passed her a can of coffee, heated by a bit of magic. She took it with a smile, sighing after taking a sip. "So warm. Thank you."

"How'd you end up here?" Harry prompted.

"I walked here." She responded.

"Well, yes, but what are you doing out here, in the middle of the mountains, during a freezing night?"

She smiled. "It's home." Harry took another look at her, just to make sure she wasn't screwing with him… and realized just how dark those eyes were. They were intense and piercing, on a face that Harry realized was a touch too pale to be human- maybe his experience with vampires got him used to the unusually pale, but now that he was looking her in the face he realized that she wasn't quite human.

Her lips curved into a small smile. "You noticed?" Harry gulped. "If you'd like to know, I'm a yuki onna."

"A yuki onna?"

"You're not familiar?" She giggled. "An ice spirit, then."

Harry racked his brain for a second, before remembering some faint memory about Asian ice spirits in DADA… he scooted away a bit. "You're not going to freeze me to death, are you? Seduce me, then kill me?"

Her expression soured. "Lies! It's not our fault you humans can't keep your clothes on, even when you're freezing to death!"

What? The Yuki Onna continued on her rant regardless.

"During the final stages of freezing to death, humans sometimes feel hot- you strip, you die, and then people find naked bodies, which they assume are the result of us seducing them!" She huffed.

"That's… unfortunate."

"No kidding." She said, taking a few moments to calm down and compose herself before turning back to Harry.

"Now since I've told you about myself- perhaps too much- why don't you share a little yourself?"

She took a sip of her coffee as Harry started talking. "I'm Harry Potter, and I guess I'm just here to look around. Lovely mountain, by the way."

"Thank you."

The Yuki Onna, who apparently went by the last name Mizuno, decided to escort him through the mountains, for the sake of company if nothing else. Harry had to admit conversation made the trip a little better.

"So… you get a lot of visitors?"

"Yes, humans do occasionally come up here, searching for something- they never seem to find much, considering that they keep on coming back…" she frowned.

"They're not dying, are they?" Harry hoped people weren't foolish enough to risk life and limb on a treasure hunt… although that might have been a touch rich coming from him. He didn't take on nearly as much risk, at least he thought so…

"Typically, no. In fact, I try to keep an eye on a few of them, if they ever search when it's cold."

"Why?"

"They may not know it, but family is family."

Harry took a second to grasp that. "But they're human?"

She giggled. "What, do you think I burst from a snowbank fully formed?"

"I thought you said Yuki Onna don't seduce people."

"I said they don't seduce and kill them- and why can't we fall in love with humans if we want to? It's not like you have room to talk."

"What?"

"You don't smell it?"

"Smell what?" Harry said, starting to get a little irritated.

"Sweetheart, you smell like a bloodsucker. I assume that's from one crawling all over you."

"Seven, actually." She burst into laughter, and Harry realized what he just said. "Not like that!"

"Oh, so it's all just platonic, then?"

"Yes!"

They walked along in silence for a bit longer, before Harry spoke up. "Say, where do you live? Do you have an igloo or something?"

"An… igloo?" She queried, quirking her head. "I'm afraid I don't really have a home. It's not like the cold will kill me."

"Well, I've got a lot of room back in my home…"

"I'm not that kind of woman, Mr. Potter!"

Harry sighed. "Really though, if you'd like to give human civilization a shot, I'd be happy to show you around."

The Yuki Onna was silent for a moment. "Maybe. If- and only if!- you can help me find the treasure my relatives are searching for. I won't have them dying because I'm not here."

Harry smiled. "Sounds good. I'll have you know I'm pretty good at this whole finding treasure thing."

Omake: Stone Part I (assuming the Stone actually drags the ghosts back and isn't some 'shade of their memory' sort of stuff) Non-canon this time, but if y'all like it I might make it a fixture every few chapters.

He eventually gave in. He tried to rein himself in just a little by only summoning the one, but Harry still recognized he was caving in. He summoned Sirius first, in the little memorial room in the basement of the castle.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Harry asked, more than a little concerned.

"No, I was just getting ready to… well…" he chuckled. "Not important. I'm supposed to give you the whole 'don't use the stone' spiel now, but I think you've got it, right?"

Harry was growing a little red with embarrassment. "Yeah."

"Well, if I'm not going to be seeing you for a long while, the least I can do is tell everyone how you're doing!" He stopped and actually looked around now, taking in the quiet memorials to the dead. "This is… better coping than I expected, gotta say. Lots of faces I don't recognize, though…"

"It's not just for you guys… lots of others have lost people. I'm not living alone, at least."

"Oh, can I bring news of a grandchild back to Lily?"

"Not quite-" Harry was cut off by knocking on the door. Looking at Sirius, Harry remembered that no one else could properly see him. "Come in," he said.

The door opened to reveal Margaret. "Good master? Art thou ready? The film is showing in half an hour, and Liz and Mary are growing most impatient…"

"Yeah, I just… need a moment longer."

"Whatever pleases thou, good master." She closed the door, and Harry turned to Sirius, who just looked insufferably proud.

"I never took you for the sort, Harry!" He crowed. "Remus was hoping you'd get back together with Ginny… but this? This is better."

"It's not like that…"

Sirius carried on anyways. "Come on, get out there! Don't miss a hot date for this old dog's sake!"