"Text" – Thoughts

"Text" – Spellcast

"Text" – Non-English Words

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does

Welcome to the second installment of my telling of how the HP universe would have gone if a simple event had occurred at the end of trio's third year. I highly encourage you to read through the first story before starting this one, simply because there have been so many changes that have transpired, as well as a few characters who were introduced in the previous installment. This story takes place between 1995-1996, or the characters' fifth year at Hogwarts. I hope you all enjoy my writing and feel free to leave a review!

Prologue

Date: Unknown

Location: Unknown

Time is one of the strangest things that humankind has discovered, or invented as some would say. It moves unpredictably in one direction, faster or slower depending on how what the perceiver is doing or feeling.

Time gets even more complicated when not just one timeline is considered. In some worlds, every single choice made would cause the birth of two or more extremely similar timelines. This effectively creates an infinitely spanning co-temporal multiverse, where each universe has concurrent time but exists at different points of space. After some time, the two timelines are so different that one who travelled between the two would wonder how two things that originated from the same point could be so different.

The change however is gradual, as seen in the previous year that had passed. A bond made, a tournament lost, a death averted, another hastened and a resurrection postponed. The changes may seem simple but as the premise has diverged so greatly, the changes will too become greater and greater.

And so, time continues to flow …

Chapter 1 – Blackest Night

Date: Saturday, July 7th 1995

Location: Unknown Field, Macedonia

Silence reigned in the large open field, under the cloudy sky which obstructed much of the starlight. There were no people nearby even though it wasn't particularly late at night. To be fair, this was a very secluded location which had been veiled from wizard and muggle eyes alike by a very strong barrier.

However, that is not to say that there were no sentient beings that were on this land. A peculiar mouse was scurrying at an astonishing rate between the blades of grass, dodging around other animals, insects or rocks as it hurried along on the ground. The air around it was still, as though the entire field knew that something was about to happen.

Something important.

The mouse hurried along, running towards what appeared to be a rather small group of boulders that sat clustered together at the side of the field. Counter-intuitively, rather than slowing down to avoid the boulders, the mouse picked up its speed and dove straight into the nearest one … and passed straight through. The boulders had been enchanted with the Intangibility Charm, one of the many charms that was cast on the magical gates of Platform 9 ¾ in King's Cross Station back in London.

The mouse landed without a sound, courtesy of the 'trackless step' potion that it had taken before it had started on its journey. And thus, despite the mouse's great speed that it took as it scampered across the underground cave.

The surrounding walls reeked of some unnatural smell, foul to the general human nose but almost painful to any being or beast with a sense of smell greater. This was one of the most iconic signs of what was inside the cave.

The mouse scampered along until it reached what appeared to be a clearing of sorts within the cave. The area was extremely dim for there was only a few small torches of fire that illuminated the cave as a whole, one of which was situated inside the cave. Luckily however, the dim and dank conditions of the cave was perfect for its current denizens.

Without warning, the mouse began to change rapidly. Small paws elongated dramatically, forming hands and feet, the right hand missing its index finger. The mouse's midsection widened considerably, becoming the belly of a rather rotund man. Lastly, the small, almost cute-looking head of the mouse morphed into the visage of a solemn and unkempt man with wide crimson eyes and pointed nose. There stood the form of Peter Pettigrew.

While the person standing in the cave appeared to be Pettigrew, the aura that he gave out was vastly different. Pettigrew's usual terrified uncertainty was completely replaced by the serious and focused expression that the man currently donned. Pettigrew's usually hunched, quivering posture had become one of power and even arrogance in poise.

"Greyback! Get out here!" 'Pettigrew' snarled. Gone was the squeaky, mild voice that usually came out of his mouth.

A few moments later, the man that had been addressed walked out. The man looked absolutely vicious, with a savage look on his face. His skin was extremely pale, his eyes bloodshot and yellow teeth showing from the feral grin on his face. This was Fenrir Greyback, considered the most brutal and deadly werewolf alive since 'The Jackal' had passed away almost two centuries ago.

Fenrir walked until her was three steps away from Pettigrew's feet before he kneeled down. It was a strange sight to behold, seeing the six-foot-three tall werewolf kneel before the five-foot-five Peter Pettigrew.

"My Lord," he said softly, with the hint of a growl.

"Your request has been complete. The events cumulating woman's downfall are occurring as we speak," 'Pettigrew' said dismissively. Fenrir's eyes widened and be immediately bowed his head further.

"Thank you your lordship!" he said graciously. Around them, a slew of murmurs could from the surroundings. 'Pettigrew' smirked.

"Why don't our friends join us for this occasion?" he said. Fenrir's eyes widened momentarily before he quickly nodded. Fenrir looked back at the cave passages behind him and snarled loudly. A few moments later, the pack of werewolves that had been watching the exchange quickly assembled behind Fenrir, all kneeling like their leader had been. Satisfied, Fenrir looked back at 'Pettigrew', knowing exactly what to do.

"We pledge allegiance to you and your cause, as per our agreement two weeks prior," Fenrir said, limiting his snarling as much as he could. This was an even stranger sight to see, watching the savage werewolf attempt to speak somewhat formally towards the diminutive man. 'Pettigrew' smiled wickedly.

"Rise, Greyback," he commanded. Fenrir did so without hesitation and looked into the scarlet orbs that Peter's eyes were. A moment of silence passed between the two men.

"What is your first command, my lord,' Fenrir growled out. 'Pettigrew' smirked.

"Do as I had you do twenty-five years ago, during what they have been calling the 'Modern British Wizarding War'. Raise our army amongst the dark creatures that walk our land and be it's general." Fenrir swallowed hard.

"Will that be all, my lord," he asked somewhat tentatively. 'Pettigrew's' expression quickly turned to that of a glare. In an instant, the entire cave was filled with a sort of 'killing intent' emitted by the short yet highly intimidating man. Some of the werewolves in the crowd almost fell down out of surprise and fright.

"You should feel lucky to even remain in my service!" roared the enraged man. "Considering how you did not search for me at all through these years and the disrespectful welcome that I received when I first arrived here. You should be thankful that your lord is merciful"

A dead silence.

Fenrir swallowed and bowed his head. It was far more than he expected (and in his opinion deserved). For now, he would stay content with being able to serve his lord from afar.

"Thank you, my lord." 'Pettigrew' nodded neutrally.

"You are dismissed."

Similar to how they entered, the pack of werewolves seemed to vanish as they quickly vacated the area, leaving 'Pettigrew' alone. He smirked.

It wasn't that difficult to convince that woman to do something stupid. After all, that woman was far to prejudiced for her own good. One little push and …

'Pettigrew' cackled to himself as he began to morph back into his rodent form. Now, all he had to do was watch as the accursed British Ministry of Magic crumbled under its own folly. Dumbledore would not know what hit him when he had to fight a war on two fronts.

Without another thought, Lord Voldemort, possessing Peter Pettigrew's body began his long journey back to his 'base of operations'. If all went well, not only would he destroy an enemy and regain a strong ally, but also rid himself from his greatest weakness. The clouds above him had clustered greatly enough that it had begun to rain.

"A sign of things to come…" he murmured to himself

Location: Wizengamot Conference Room, British Ministry of Magic

Miles away, in a very different location, an extremely different meeting was taking place far underneath the city of London. Above them, millions of muggles bustled around doing their daily activities. None of them were aware of the gargantuan building that was situated miles underneath them, where this meeting was taking place.

The meeting room was very old, even older than the rest of the building around it. After all the Wizengamot had predated the rest of the Ministry of magic by exactly three centuries and their exalted hall was just as ancient. The architecture of the room was reminiscent of Roman and Greek styles, even structured like that of a closed-top amphitheatre. On the wall behind Albus lay the crest of the Wizengamot, a set of scales balanced by a large 'M' with the motto 'ignorantia juris neminem excusat' – the ignorance of law is no excuse, written around it.

As usual, the room was very dimly lit, only offering the barest of light for any person in the room to see any other, excluding the person standing in the spotlight of course. This was a tradition that dated back even to the days of the Wizards' Council, the organization that governed magical Britain even before the Wizengamot's formation, allowing a certain amount of anonymity for everyone in the room. Not that it really mattered to Albus Brian Wulfric Percival Dumbledore, who had long since memorised the places that each person would take in the room.

The chief warlock had been sitting in his seat for some time by now, having waited almost half an hour as the members of the 'sacred' order had begun filing in. Naturally, some of the members had dawdled to the last moment before walking in, a sign of spite that they had for the old headmaster.

Albus looked around the giant hall. Though he didn't really need to 'look' at the different members to discern their identity, he did so anyway as a sign of courtesy, much like how an adult would pretend to not know the answer to a simple question posed by a child. Surprisingly, many of the seats were filled today, probably the closest to a full house as the Wizengamot could come given the vacant spots that had yet to be retaken.

Albus looked to the seats that were situated higher than the others, many more of which were left vacant than those filled. These were the seats reserved for the representatives of Noble and Ancient, or higher ranking Houses.

"Black," he mentally thought, nodding at the empty seats. "Crouch, Selwyn, Archi – oh wait..."

In place of the seat that had been left vacant by Lord Archibald's death last year, a rather nervous looking youth was sitting on the seat, seemingly fiddling with the hem of his robes. Albus frowned. He had heard of this 'Velvet' person but had yet to see him in person. Apparently, this person had been one of the late lord Archibald's students and had also been one of the last people to see the man before his unexpected demise in Japan. Albus made a note to speak with this unknown man after the meeting as he continued his gaze across the room.

"Gaunt … Dolohov, Travers, Rosier, Lestrange, Avery, Bones …" Many of these houses were either functionally (given that all its living members were incarcerated in Azkaban) or outright extinct as a result of the war. Some of those seats, only had members who were still underage and thus could not formally sit on the Wizengamot. The Bones seat was in a similar predicament as the only overage member of that family was Madame Amelia Bones, head of the DMLE and thus granted a seat on the council anyway.

By now, the great oak doors that lead into the dim hall had been shut and Albus quickly got up to call the court into session, shelving his thoughts in favour of trying to solve the question he had on his mind. Just what was this meeting for?

Cornelius was usually quite transparent with the reasons why he would ask Albus to call a meeting, a habit that he had not followed for this time. Albus had been wondering for some time now as to why Cornelius called such an urgent meeting and the details it entailed. As rare as it was, Albus had still yet to figure out the exact reasons as to why Cornelius has done as he did.

It didn't help that Cornelius himself was sitting a few feet away from Albus himself looking quite worried at the vacant seat next to him. Albus frowned. The Minister of Magic was rarely ever at one of the Wizengamot meetings, only for the ones that involved major discussions such as the amendment of a law or something of equal or greater severity. Oh well, the time for the meeting to start had arrived anyway.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Wizengamot!" Albus called with a loud voice that he had practiced almost a century using. "I wish to begin today's session by introducing our Minister of Magic, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, who will be presenting the issues that will be discussed over the course of the session."

Mild applause sounded around as the portly Minister rose received his greeting. Albus frowned. It appeared that many of the people in the room had already known that Cornelius would be attending this session. This meant that something important was at play.

Cornelius stood up, looking rather wearily at Albus as the portly man walked onto the podium at the center of the room.

"Thank you Albus," Cornelius said with an equally tired tone. The minister gave Albus a sharp glance, as though Cornelius were trying to intimidate. Albus smiled pleasantly and allowed for him to continue.

"This morning, my Undersecretary has sent you all a package containing information provided to us by the Hogwarts board of governors, containing some potentially disturbing news that is clear for all of us to see."

A few nods and murmurs around the room while Albus looked somewhat surprised. The governors had not spoken to him at all about any issues they had, as they usually would. With an internal frown, it began dawning on Albus just wha the issue to be discussed was going to be.

"For those of you who did not receive or read the package, it details how the scores of Hogwarts' annual Defence Against the Dark Arts examinees in all papers have been declining for the past few decades," Cornelius began.

Murmurs of agreement and anger broke out within the crowd as Albus had to reapply his occlumency shields to make sure he did not show any facial expression. He knew exactly where Cornelius was bringing this discussion, and it was definitely not something he wanted to deal with any further.

"Naturally, the school board has done an investigation on the matter and what was found was quite disturbing," Cornelius continued. Albus had to resist the temptation to chuckle. The 'investigation' that they did would really not have amounted to much, given that the answer to why the D.A.D.A scores were declining was so obvious. Well, probably not to many of the people sitting in the hall with them, given that the average age of a British Wizengamot member was around ninety-one years of age.

"It has been found that the school has not had any single Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher that has stayed for more than one full school year!"

A few gasps of surprise flitted around the conference hall and Albus had to refrain from reacting. How completely oblivious could these people be, having not noticed that quite obvious fact. It was almost as though someone had intentionally made it so that no-one paid any sort of attention to the goings-on at Hogwarts after they had left school. For Merlin's sake, the school governors didn't even seem to care much most of the time!

"How? Why?" came the voice of Charles Prewitt, the super-centenarian lord of the Noble House of Prewitt. Albus almost raised an eyebrow at the man, who currently had seven relatives that were still in Hogwarts. Just how unobservant could some of these people be?

"If there is a general cause for this, it is currently unknown," Cornelius replied.

"Incorrect," Albus mentally rebutted, though he knew very well that it was futile to say anything. Even if anybody in the room believe him that Voldemort had jinxed the post thirty-eight years ago, it was not like any of them could actually help the situation, given how the Hogwartian wards worked against people viewed as 'outsiders'.

"Can we do anything about it?" asked Olenna Abbot, Lady of the Noble House of Abbot. Albus gave a sideways glance at Augusta Longbottom, Dowager Lady of the Noble and Ancient House of Longbottom, who had glanced irritatedly at her colleague. It appeared that not everyone was as clueless about the situation as they seemed.

"While the cause is unknown as of yet, the school board has reached out to me with a solution. For the Ministry to appoint a person to the post of teacher of the Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Unlike last time, silence greeted Cornelius as he finished speaking. Albus knew exactly why. The Wizengamot, and by extension the Ministry as a whole, was not allowed to interfere with Hogwarts' affairs unless under the request of either one of the founders (and their heirs) or the resident headmaster and the entire school governing board. While very few knew about that exact treaty, the fact that something like this hadn't happened in over three centuries was quite known. For the entire board of school governors to agree on something, that was something that had not happened for a long time (unless they were under duress of course).

"Why?" came Augusta Longbottom's voice. Every eye turned towards the relatively young witch, who had spoken in a tone so sharp that it reminded them of a time when they had gotten scolded by a teacher back in their school days. Even Cornelius seemed surprised (and somewhat scared) but coughed and answered her query.

"From the reasons they have pushed forth, the governors seemed rather concerned with the latest few people who had held to post. Specifically, a fraudster, a werewolf and a high-profile psychopath these past three years."

More murmurs and gasps echoed around the room and Albus began to feel somewhat irritated by the glares that were in his direction. He of course was able to ignore them but it still bothered him that these people were so ill-informed.

"Very well then, who should we elect?" came the voice of one Lucius Malfoy. Albus turned his gaze at the man, careful to not add to much killing intent to his gaze as he could. Albus remembered the incident almost three years prior where Lucius had indirectly caused the petrification of four muggle-borns, a ghost and a cat at his school. Albus was many things, but a headmaster first and foremost. If someone were to wreak havoc on his school… well, Barty Crouch Junior knew exactly what came from that. Cornelius meanwhile had taken out a sheet of parchment.

"After conferring with my advisors, I decided to appoint Dolores Jane Umbridge, my Senior Undersecretary for the role. I am sure that –"

"Pardon me, Minister Fudge but I have a query."

All eyes turned back to Augusta Longbottom, who once again had a sharp gaze at the minister. Cornelius gulped and gestured towards her.

"Go ahead, Lady Longbottom." Augusta coughed and stood up.

"Now, I may be getting quite old," she started with a vaguely snide tone. Albus saw a few members of the older members of the Wizengamot bristle slightly as Albus himself sighed slightly. Let it be known that even at the old age of eighty-nine, Augusta Longbottom was still as ferocious as she had been in his classroom more than seven decades ago.

"… but if I recall correctly from my friend Grezzy, Dolores Umbridge scored pitifully on her Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L."

The hall was once again muted as they processed the words that were just said. Cornelius's face had turned a mixture of embarrassment and confusion while his aides around him had cold facades on that only barely betrayed their nervousness.

"I have heard the same," came the voice of Lord Robert Greengrass, one of the few people here who was not the current head of his family. The man glared outwards at everyone, flooding the room with a seemingly cool air in a manner reminiscent of his son's equally strong aura. Cornelius coughed.

"I am sorry, Lady Longbottom, Lord Greengrass but you both must be mistaken. Dolores scored full marks on her theoretical exam for the O.W.L. and the N.E.W.T. sections of Defence Against the Dark Arts, hence my decision to appoint her." Augusta didn't even let a moment pass before she spoke again.

"Really but then what grades did she get on her practical examinations then? According to what Griselda has told me, the poor girl could barely muster an Acceptable on her overall attainment." The hall was once again silent as no-one wanted to speak out.

Griselda Marchbank's name held an extremely large amount of weight in the room, despite rumors that she had gone slightly senile in the past few years. This was because of the fact that she held seniority over everyone in the room, even including Albus himself on the board. Having served the board since before Henry Potter's public ostracization, Professor Marchbanks was still held in high regard, whether or not she was in the room or otherwise. Cornelius stood up.

"Very well then Lady Longbottom, if you are so opposed to Dolores's appointment as Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, I assume you have a better candidate in mind?" Augusta looked irritated. It was clear that she hadn't thought of one yet.

"Allow me then," replied Lord Robert. Everyone turned to him in surprise. Almost everyone here knew enough about the old Greengrass to know that he generally disliked involving himself in matters not concerning his house (a fact that had made almost three quarters of the hall hold a grudge on him). For him to speak not once but twice in a session was strange.

"To suit everybody's wishes, I nominate the Head of the Investigation Department, Pius of the Thicknesse family as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."

A few mutters of surprise around the room as Albus's eyes narrowed a fraction. Robert was making a shrewd move as usual, proposing a candidate that was highly qualified yet in a spot which could be replaced without too many problems, given the disproportionately high number of talented investigators in the department.

To the politically minded, Thicknesse was somewhat an anomaly, having come from a second-generation half-blood father and pure-blood mother, thus establishing him as 'pure-blood' in most eyes. His upbringing has thus lead him to lean on neither side of the muggle issue, thus putting him neutral at best with both sides. Coupled with his extremely pro-Ministry actions, it would serve Cornelius well as a person to put in 'check' of Albus, a fact that the wizened headmaster knew all too well that many of the members here would be happy about. Albus also idly remembered a small incident more than a few decades ago where House Greengrass had intervened on behalf of the then House Thicknesse regarding a certain muggle war…

Albus put on a grudging smile. He knew that since Thicknesse had already been nominated, neither light nor dark would accept a less 'worthy' candidate. It was, annoyingly, another political battle to be fought and with all the experience Albus had, he knew that settling for Pius Thicknesse would be his best option.

The murmurs around the room seemed to indicate a similar though that permeated around. Cornelius looked around with a worried look on his face. He had been discussing with his advisors about the issue and had seemingly not gotten a particularly good discussion from them. Noticing that the commotion had begun to die down, Cornelius got up again.

"Even if we did wish to appoint Mr. Thicknesse, we would require his agreement in the matter," Cornelius said quickly. Albus noted that the man was perspiring more than usual and watched interestedly. His aides looked somewhat exasperated at him, hmm…

"That would not be a problem," Lord Robert replied commandingly, brandishing out a document that he quickly transported to Albus's hand. The old headmaster was hardly surprised, having known many less far-thinking men to have done something similar. He quickly looked through the document and read out the last line.

"… I, Pius of the Thickness family do hereby accept the appointment as Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Cornelius looked extremely surprised and turned back to where Robert was a moment ago. However, the man had already receded back into the shadows. Gulping, the minister began to notice many of the eyes in the hall staring right at him.

Albus sighed. While he would have preferred to have elected his own professor, the seemingly random interference of the school's governors would have overwritten his authority (and only the founders or their heirs could override that authority). Albus wisely chose to not contest the school's magic, knowing full well that Pius Thicknesse would be gone from his school by the end of the year, one way or another. The chief warlock stood up, his steel-grey robes flourishing as he walked to the center podium. With a loud voice he addressed the court.

"We shall now commence the voting for the appointment of Pius of the Thicknesse family as Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Those in favour?"

A torrent of hands shot up into the air. Albus's eyes darted around, quickly counting the number of people that had their hands raised. There were fifty-three Wizengamot members present, full attendance as the remaining nineteen seats were to be retaken. Out of these fifty-three, thirty had already had their hands up. Albus quickly noted the people who didn't yet have their hands raised, including Lucius Malfoy, Jericho Nott and a few others. Albus himself had his hand raised.

"Those against?"

A much smaller number of hands were raised, including Lucius's and Jericho's hands as well as a few of their allies and random members. However, it was clear which lay as the majority. Albus turned to Cornelius, who was now nervously looking from the Wizengamot to the empty seat next to him.

Albus took a moment to think. That seat would usually be reserved for the minister's Senior Undersecretary, whom would have been Dolores Umbridge, the woman that had been mentioned in the session already. It seemed odd that the woman would not have attended the session herself, especially given all the information Albus had of her. Something strange was going on and judging from Cornelius's jumpiness, he didn't know either.

Suddenly, a pang of pain erupted somewhere in Albus's body, almost causing him to wince. His mind went into overdrive, trying to figure out its source as Cornelius stood up.

"Very well. As of this moment, Pius of the Thicknesse family is hereby appointed as the Professor of –"

A large flash of green light emanated from a spot somewhere in the dim chamber, causing everyone to look in that direction. The small green emerald on Lord Robert Greengrass's right ring finger was flashing urgently. Everyone watched as the man's face turned from surprise to shock and then to absolute horror, an expression that none in this room had ever seen on his face. Lord Robert took a moment before his face became stonier than before as he spoke.

"Pardon me, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Wizengamot," he said rather stiffly, "It appears that I have an immediate family emergency that I must attend to and thus must take my leave." Without waiting for any response, the man tossed a handful of green powder behind him and vanished into the flames of the fireplace.

Location: Ridgebit Dragon Sanctuary, Romania (UTC+3)

It had been yet another peaceful night at the sanctuary. Given that most dragons were diurnal, the sanctuary had been almost eerily silent for the past two hours since night had formally fallen. However, Azulong was yet again the odd one, sitting (laying) wide awake despite the late hour. It wasn't as if she could help it, something was bothering her but she couldn't quite place what it was.

Even the humans seemed to be mostly asleep, save for the occasional visit from the fire-head human, whom Azulong grudgingly liked (not that she would ever admit it to anyone) because of the attention he paid to her. It almost felt as though she were back in the Snow-Dwelling Mountains, where she was treated as a princess (despite herself not really acknowledging that title).

Nothing of interest had happened since Lord Thunderer had departed for Tartarus, though that was to be expected for this highly uneventful place. In the fourteen years she had been in this reserve, Azulong could probably count with her two claws the number of 'interesting' events that had transpired.

This summer could already be considered somewhat more 'eventful' than the previous few had been as the five-year long incubation period of the resident Ukrainian Ironbelly's eggs was finally drawing to a close. Azulong trumpeted a jet of fire into the air. Finally, that pesky Gheehn would stop taking so much of the food.

Thinking about the eggs brought the Chinese Fireball's thoughts back to the last time she had to deal with eggs, wherein she had been somewhat humiliated by that human hatchling over seven moon-cycles ago, a fact that she knew would highly unlikely be forgotten any time soon. After all, dragons had particularly long memories.

The details of the fight were still remarkably clear and Azulong could make out the distinct actions that the both of them did. It had become almost a hobby of Azulong to reanalyse the skirmish over and over for pure interest. Somewhere inside her, she hoped that she would be able to meet that hatchling again and confront him for a rematch. Let it be known that Azulong, eighteenth of her name, Granddaughter of Shao-Lao would never leave her pride unavenged.

As the crimson scaled dragon blew a small stream of fire into the upwards with that thought, the air around her seemed to chill slightly. Through her acute senses, Azulong easily detected the shift in temperature and drooped down, snarling quietly as she tried to scope out the surroundings.

Azulong knew that there were very few beings that were capable of dropping the temperature so subtly, many of them incredibly dangerous, even to a Chinese Fireball like herself. While she had been acclimated into the cold due to her former home in the mountains, she knew that many of the other dragons here would be very vulnerable to such a shift in temperature. While Azulong wasn't particularly fond of any of the other dragons, she at least felt a kinship with everyone else.

The large dragon moved around quietly, watching the walls of 'her' cave as she walked out into the field outside. She had begun to gather fire in her recently recovered flame-sac which had been damaged in the battle against the human. Hopefully, she was just mistaken and that there were no actual adversaries to fight.

Azulong made it out of the cave and began to scan the surroundings using all of her senses. Unlike almost all other dragon sanctuaries, enclosures or other facilities, the Ridgebit Sanctuary did not impose any physical or magical bonds on the dragons, something that old Harvey Ridgebit, the founder of the Sanctuary had insisted upon very ardently. For this reason, Azulong was free to roam the land if she wished, though she rarely had the reason to.

Azulong continued to scan the grounds, trying to detect what the source of the cold was. Like many other animals and magical beasts, Azulong possessed a far greater sense of smell than that of human beings, though her sight was marginally worse than that of the average human. Fortunately, the scope of her sight extended to what the humans generally called the 'infrared' spectrum, allowing her to pick up on heat sources with ease.

With a snarl of frustration, Azulong stomped as she found herself completely unable to detect where the cold was originating from. Strangely, it seemed almost as though it was coming from all directions, prickling at her scaly skin. Annoyed, Azulong dissipated the fire in her sac, allowing the heat to travel around her body, making her scales glow as their temperature rose.

Azulong creaked her head upwards slightly, allowing herself to glance at the moon. The greyish orb seemed to hang lazily above her, strangely tinted a dark red for some reason or another. Azulong paid it no mind as she continued to look around.

"Fireball?"

Azulong didn't need to turn around to figure out who had just 'addressed' her in that human tongue. It was fire-head, who had as usual come to check up on her. It slightly annoying, though Azulong was slightly grateful that her actions were being noticed, rather than getting ignored like she usually felt.

"What's wrong?"

Azulong shook her head. She had no idea what the human was asking her, given that she had not learnt (nor did she every think to learn) human tongue. Given the context, she assumed that the human was asking of her condition and instead turned around, facing the human.

Contrary to most other humans (and common sense), fire-head human did not flinch at the sight of the massive beast staring at him, instead casting a slightly worried look at her. Azulong almost let out a laugh at the human's bravery (or foolishness, she thought). Azulong turned back towards her cave and was about to begin walking when she suddenly felt a very strange feeling.

Something in her stomach seemed to lurch horribly and Azulong almost felt sick. It took everything she had to keep herself standing, to not show weakness as she had always done. However, fire-head human seemed to notice quickly that something was wrong and had rushed to her side.

"Fireball?"

Azulong let out a surprisingly loud shout, causing fire-head human to jump back in surprise. Azulong barely noticed as her mind was focused on whatever was wrong with her. An indescribable sense of rage washed over her as she called out in pain.

It felt like someone was directly attacking her inside, even though there were no enemies present anywhere. The pain continued to grow as Azulong began to writhe. Beginning to get enraged, Azulong quickly pointed her mouth skyward and let out a large fireball into the sky, which blew up midair and its sparks rained down in the area around them.

"Kairyuseigun?!" fire-head human yelped in shock as he blasted himself away from the falling fireballs. Moments later, another bunch of humans showed up. In her angered daze, Azulong barely noticed the humans encircling her. With a few shouts, six jets of red light hit her scaly body, forcing her to the ground.

Subdued but still angry, Azulong had one last thing on her mind. To escape from here when it was next possible. A few more jets of red light hit her, forcing her into a state of slumber.

Location: Water Curtain Cave (UTC +8)

The being that held the title of Thunderer crashed down in front of the cave's eponymous waterfall, careful to not let any of the stray electricity from his quick descent conduct through the water. He brandished the stick that he always held and raised it before flicking it downwards.

"Telgja," he mentally incanted. A small wave left the tip of his stick and struck the waterfall, causing the giant structure to split in the middle, revealing the cave's entrance. Thunderer took a few steps into the damp cave before he simply stood still.

"Monkey! It's me. Allow me passage please!" Though silence greeted him, Thunderer couldn't help but smile. While his Mandarin Chinese was not very well practised, at the very least he had not accidentally offended one of his oldest friends by accident.

A small monkey trotted out of the cave and looked at the strangely glowing orange man questioningly. Thunderer reached down and looked at the monkey, who had now begun squealing seemingly indiscriminately. Moments later, a large crowd of monkeys joined the first one. Thunderer took a step back and looked upwards, smiling at the scene. Above him was several outcrops of rocks which lead down to this opening in the cave. On them were several hundred warriors, all trained by the king himself. If needed be, the monkeys could jump down and overwhelm any opponent. Well, almost any.

"You tried this last time, let's get this over with so I don't need to zap anyone," Thunderer said challengingly. As expected, none of the monkeys seemed to understand what Thunderer was saying, though they did seem to pick up on the challenge that had been issued as they responded with a loud chant of their own. Some of the front-most monkeys had taken a few steps forward, as though they were about to pounce. Thunderer saw this and smirked, beginning to glow even brighter than usual.

Without warning, a deafening howl rushed through the cave, causing all the monkeys to freeze in place. Thunderer looked back down to his eye level and saw that an extremely thick black staff was floating in front of him. While not particularly ornate in design, the staff had its two ends stylized with golden rings. Thunderer almost frowned but quickly grabbed ahold of the metal rod and vanished upon contact.

Thunderer found himself transported many hundreds of feet downwards in front of a secret underground waterfall. Around him was a bountiful field of crystalline structures of innumerable different shapes and sizes. It was a beautiful sight to behold, even to Thunderer, who had been here multiple times in the past.

"You going to tell me what you are doing here?" came an extremely gruff voice from underneath the waterfall. Thunderer turned around and peered into the middle of the massive waterfall. The constant crashing of the torrential water produced a large amount of vision-obscuring spray but the electromagus was able to see a figure present.

"Please old friend," he chortled lightly, "I know that you already had to move from your position to prevent your troops from engaging me in combat. Stop being a stranger and come out from under there."

The monkey within the waters grumbled before disappearing for a moment. Without a sound, he teleported right behind Thunderer. The orange-glowing being smirked and turned around. His old friend was rather tall, measuring at an impressive seven-feet. The old monkey possessed a rather leaner build than most people would imagine, dressed in what appeared to be an old-fashioned but ornate set of robes, curiously dry despite the fact that the monkey had been meditating under the waterfall for god knows how long. Thunderer inspected his old friend for a few moments before he spoke again.

"For a monkey of your age, you look well," joked Thunderer. The monkey 'tched' as he glared at the glowing being.

"I hold the same rank as you, Thunder God," he replied irritatedly. Thunderer looked somewhat surprised.

"Since when did the Heavens allow you into its ranks?" Thunderer questioned. The monkey smiled.

"It would be foolish for them to not include the Victorious Fighting Buddha into their ranks, wouldn't you think?" Thunderer looked surprised but still bit back with a comment.

"Then you got yourself demoted then! From the Great Sage Equalling the Heavens, you just became a member of the Heavens! Good job, Sun Wukong!" Wukong looked irritably at the orange colored electromagus, who was laughing out loud.

"After all these years, I most certainly could fight you to a standstill, weapon-less or otherwise," Wukong replied flatly. Thunderer stopped laughing but looked challengingly at his old friend. In an instant, the previously jovial air around them had vanished. Replacing it was an aura of tenseness, and the air around them began to crackle as sparks of electricity ran around the sides of the walls. An immense pressure of heat also began to settle in as the two godlike beings stared at one another.

A beat.

"On the second thought, demolishing the cave would not be a good idea," Thunderer said, powering down as quickly as he had powered up. Wukong shrugged and removed the heat.

"The cave would last. Not so sure about the wizard or muggle towns nearby though. The earthquakes would cause some serious casualties." Thunderer nodded in agreement as Wukong continued. "By the way, would you mind turning back to your base state. Your form is too bright."

Thunderer raised a non-existent eyebrow.

"You, the one who stared into Lao Tzu's cauldron for forty-nine days are complaining about light?" Wukong looked irritable and so Thunderer sighed and extinguished the light from his body, plunging the cave back into relative dimness.

"Now that we've got that out of the way, what brings you to this side of the continent. The Fates sent you I assume?" Wukong asked. Thunderer nodded.

"Close enough. I also had to return a few items to you," he replied, tossing him a small sack to the monkey king. Wukong didn't even bother to catch it, telepathically directing his staff to retrieve the pouch for him instead.

"And?" Wukong asked, "What did the Fates want from us?"

Thunderer frowned.

"I was instructed to inspect the Nexuses. Of course, I looked at the ones at home and at Vigrid, no particular problems when I last checked." Wukong grumbled but quickly turned around and pointed to the waterfall.

"Follow me."

The two old beings walked up towards the waterfall and right through it, ignoring the thousands of pounds of force that were rushing at them from the water. They appeared on the other side without much incidence and continued to walk across the narrow passage. Before long they reached the end of the corridor which had a large symbol engraved onto the wall. Wukong took a few steps more while Thunderer stayed in his position and watched as the monkey king appeared to jump across the ground in front of the symbol three times. A moment later, a doorway appeared.

"After you," Wukong said as he watched the doorway's opening. The monkey panted slightly at his exertion which Thunderer took by stride. After all, the old monkey had jumped the equivalent of one-hundred-and-sixty-two-thousand kilometres, hardly an easy feat of a monkey his age.

The pair entered into the room and looked around. Unlike the stone-grey outside, the room seemed to resemble the interior of a very cluttered storeroom. Stacks upon stacks of items were strewn all over the place, atop books, shelves, ancient chairs or anything that the mind could possibly think of.

"Seems normal, don't you think?" Wukong said with a sniff. "Smells funny though, quite a few more items here than when I last came in." Thunderer nodded and filed that last thought for later. The old monkey was right, at least to the extent Thunderer could tell. With a tilt of his head, he turned around.

"Well I best get going then. A lot of ground to cover. I hope we can meet soon" Thunderer replied briskly. Wukong waved his hand.

"You'll be back soon enough. Just don't ask me for any more troublesome favors," Wukong replied. "I trust you know the way back?"

Thunderer nodded. "And you?" he asked. Wukong shrugged.

"Might as well look around the place since I'm already down here. After all, I did have to jump quite a bit to get here," Wukong replied glibly. Thunderer smiled.

"Until later." With those parting words, Thunderer sped out of the waterfall before teleporting himself out of the cave.

Spells Used/Mentioned:

Intactilus – Intangibility Charm

Telgja – Old Norse Splitting Spell

Next Time: The Week After