A/N: the start of this chapter is a little bit of recap for you, just mentioning the more important terms and their meanings for the story. Some people have asked when Harry will go to Hogwarts. My answer: not for a few chapters yet, maybe four or five. He'll be arriving there in year four for some personal reasons. You'll see what I mean later on. Hopefully I get those up for you in a week or so.

Sorry for the long update. I don't know if any of you know, but the upload document on FF is stuffed. A friend showed me how to get around it not less than five minutes ago. Chapter seven is already done, but I'm thinking of editing something in it, so I'll probably put it up in a day, two at most.

Harry frowned, making a noise of protest in the back of his throat as he tried to secure the sword scabbard on his back, but the long, slender case remained as uncomfortable and awkward as ever, and he finally gave up with a sigh of disgust, flinging the scabbard off his back.

“Why couldn't I have gotten a sword that doesn't keep hitting me in the back of my knees?” Harry complained out loud, exhaling loudly in frustration.

'Perhaps you should carry it,' offered Meciel, her voice laced with amusement. 'We are travelling a dangerous path and the sword may be very useful if we are attacked.'

Harry nodded, his tantrum forgotten as he unsheathed the sword from the scabbard. Metal hissed on metal as the blade withdrew, a gleaming blade of steal etched with runes. The sword was almost as big as Harry was and despite his recent abilities and skills given to him by Meciel, he fumbled with it as he tried to slice it through the air.

Because of Harry's very recent encounter with Deirdre, which had ended in a battle where she had completely wiped the ground with him, Meciel had strongly advised him that it would safer to leave England for a while, as to throw the Order of the Blackened Denarius, the other people like him, off their tracks. However, as a magical child who had been granted considerable powers as the host of a Fallen angel, the normal methods of travelling, such as boats and planes, were out of the picture because of the way electronic items tended to short out in the presence of magic. If Harry had been more proficient at wand-magic, he would have taken Meciel on her suggestion of a magical device called a portkey. But since his wand was only a few hours old, Harry didn't have the first clue on how to build one. Another wand-wizard method of travelling, one Meciel called extremely useful, was apparition, but Harry had no idea how to perform that and Meciel had advised against trying to jump from continent to continent, lest he leave behind an arm or a leg. In the end, Meciel had suggested that they travel the relatively quick but dangerous way. So Harry was gearing himself up for a short trek through the Nevernever.

The Nevernever was, essentially, the other side, the opposite of the mortal world and home to everything that didn't belong in the mortal realm. The deepest reaches of the Nevernever was where the most powerful demons and other creatures of evil and temptation resided. These creatures, although extremely powerful in their true form, couldn't travel to the mortal realm without the help of a ritual summoning, and the very act of creating a physical body to house their consciousness on Earth drastically weakened them. Still, most of them still had more power on Earth than the average wizard, true or wand, and were considered to be very dangerous on Earth. No human, wizard or not, would have even attempted to travel that deep into the Nevernever and Meciel had told him that they wouldn't make half-way before the necessities of life such as air became limited. Still, there were places were the Nevernever that were closer to the mortal world than others and with proper knowledge, could be used as a shortcut. This was Harry's destination. However, these places were occupied and controlled by the immortal Sidhe and made up of thousands of different types of Faeries.

Harry gripped his sword in his right hand as he casually tucked his gun into his pants, the silver revolver feeling heavy against his waist. Meciel had told him that the gun wouldn't be a reliable weapon in the Nevernever, but it wouldn't hurt to bring it along anyway.

'The Nevernever has different rules than your world, beloved. It is a different reality that is constantly changing and there will be places where the chemicals used to ignite a gun are not combustible.'

“Whatever,” Harry mumbled as he strapped his backpack to his back. He quickly looked over the small room, making sure he hadn't left anything behind, and then to one of the paint-peeling walls, awaiting Meciel's help to open up the portal.

'This section of the Nevernever is ruled by the Faerie courts, beloved. Remember what I have told you.'

“Two courts, got it,” Harry said, rolling his eyes and slumping his shoulders down as he prepared to listen through another one of Meciel's lectures.

'It is important that you understand this information, beloved. Now, these courts are opposite and rivals. On one side of the Nevernever lies the Summer Court, home of the Seelie, the summer fae, ruled by the Summer Queens. On the other side lies the Winter Court, home of the Unseelie, the winter fae, ruled by the Winter Queens.'

“Summer fae are the nice ones, right?” Harry interrupted.

'The correct term is gentler. Most Sidhe only care what they can acquire from mortals, nothing more. The Sidhe are bound by the Old World rules and they are all very interested in making bargains and deals with both each other and mortals.”

“Why?”

'It's in their nature. The concept of debt and obligation is a huge factor in how they behave. A fae will honour their word if they give it, and they are unable to directly lie. However, this makes them masters of misdirection and deceit. Do not accept anything from them for they will consider it an unspoken bargain and expect payment. Do not offer them anything; they will perceive it as an insult unless it is something of great value. If worse comes to worse, all Fae have a weakness against iron, and this includes steel, so use your sword and flee when you can.'

“Okay, two courts, Winter and Summer, ruled by Queens,” Harry shot off quickly, lazily scratching his head. “Er…Faerie like making bargains, don't accept anything, don't reject anything, they're weak against iron so cut 'em up if I need to, got it. Let's go already.”

'My, somebody's anxious.' Meciel said in amusement. 'Very well, beloved; Allow me to open our path.'

Harry suddenly felt Meciel's searing power roar into his body, an intense wave of heat shooting through his veins and settling in the pit of his stomach. His hands suddenly lifted up as something slithered over his brain and he had to grit his teeth so he didn't reject the foreign mental presence. This must have been what Deirdre and Ollivander had been saying about Meciel taking over his body. The blazing pool of power in the pit of his stomach suddenly roared into his hands, dark pools of power flickering in the air as they wove themselves into a spell far too complex for Harry to manage at the moment. The cheap jewel on his crude ring glinted and blazed with a dark-scarlet light as it channelled and focussed the roaring power and suddenly the wall in front of him shimmered.

Light and colour shifted over the wall, their flow quickening, deepening. At first nothing else happened.. Then a cold wind wafted into the room, bringing a dry and sterile scent into the room. A smooth, even split appeared on the wall, small at first but rapidly expanding as it grew to encompass the whole wall. A deep blue came to dominate the swirling mass of colours on the screen, a brilliantly clear blue sky resolving itself around a range of bleak and hateful stone peaks, wreathed in mist and wrapped in ice and snow. The wind howled, blowing a fine mist of icy crystals into the room, before it died down, leaving the small room in silence.

“That's the Nevernever?” asked Harry with wide eyes, power still pooling in his hands as Meciel maintained the spell, his ring glowing brightly in the dim room as he faced what once had been a wall. The portal didn't flicker or shimmer and remained perfectly still and flat and Harry approached it with trepidation.

'All you need to do is step through it, beloved.'

With a casual flick of his hand, Harry leeched a bit of power from the pooling spell, his sword flying from the ground and into his hands. He gripped it firmly and without a second thought, stepped through the portal and into the land of Winter. A moment later, the wall suddenly flickered as it reverted back to its normal self and all that remained of the portals existence was a fine layer of snow, which quickly melted away.

Harry was cold. At least, he thought he was cold. He had lost feeling in most parts of his body and his fingers had gone so numb that he couldn't even grip his sword properly; he had already dropped it twice. He shivered as he rubbed his shivering arms, staring around at the beautiful and icy surroundings with a look of despair.

“Please tell me that it's not going to be this cold for the entire trip,” He said loudly, his teeth chattering together.

Meciel suddenly appeared beside him, her face seemingly unconcerned with the coldness as her illusion placed a hand on his shoulder. Suddenly searing warmth flooded into his body and Harry sighed in relief, allowing himself to relax. The icy wind that had been slapping against his face suddenly turned into a warm breeze, as if somebody was brushing his hair from his eyes with gentle fingers.

“That's a lot better,” Harry said in relief and he turned to Meciel, a genuine smile on his face. “Thanks.”

“I have done what I can to ease the cold,” Meciel said quietly. “But most of what you are feeling is an illusion. Your body is still cold and may take damage if we linger for to long.”

“Is it meant to be this cold?” Harry asked, eyeing his surroundings with a look of distaste on his face. “I thought you said it would be manageable?”

“It should be,” answered Meciel, her face slightly troubled. “I believe that there must be a powerful creature of Winter nearby. I suggest that we move quickly and quietly, lest we attract its attention.”

“We could go back and wait until its left,” Harry offered, picking up his sword with firm fingers and gripping it tightly.

Meciel shook her head, her dark glittery hair swaying over her back.

“The portal I opened will have been sensed by those who have the proper talents,” She answered. “This will include both the Order of the Black Denarius, True Wizards and even Wand-Wizards. I did not take the proper precautions to shield the portal as I did when we summoned the demon the other day.”

“So we have to go forward,” Harry said, suddenly squinting as the sun emerged from behind a large, angry storm-cloud.

“Yes,” Meciel said, gesturing with her hand towards a thick, snow-covered forest. “We should start in that direction.”

Harry nodded and with one last look at his surroundings, started trudging through the snow towards the large forest, the illusion of Meciel by his side.

Harry didn't know how long he had been walking for and how far he had walked so far as he traipsed through the icy and beautiful forest, his feet dragging through the snow. He could remember Meciel saying that time and distance worked different here in the Nevernever than it did in the real world, but that seemed like an eternity ago. The forest he was walking in was completely silent. There were no animals, no birds that chirped from the trees and no plants rustled in the light breeze. The trees were all partially covered in a thin but hard layer of black ice, which shot up into their trunks and dug into the bark as if it were ensnaring it.

His only company was Meciel, who continued to walk next to him, her beautiful features highlighted by the dark glow of the black ice. Her silver eyes seemed to glow in the darkened forest as she paced after Harry, content with both the moments of comfortable silence and the moments where Harry conversed with her.

“So, have you ever been to this place before?” Harry asked, idly kicking away a clump of snow as he plodded through the thick layer of snow. “Like, really been here in person.”

Meciel shook her head. “The Winter and Summer Courts did not even exist when I roamed free. The Fae were no more than rabble, blinded by their own greed and envy. Oh beloved, you have no idea what history I can teach you.”

Harry opened his mouth to speak when he frowned, a look of disgust coming over his face as something truly horrible and foul drifted into his nostrils. He blinked, his eyes watering as he pinched his nose, sending a glare at Meciel.

“I know that wasn't me,” He said, his voice rising in pitch.

Meciel stared at him, a flash of irritation going through her eyes.

“Beloved, perhaps you forget that I am only an illusion within your mind,” She said quietly. “There is something here with us.”

Harry tensed, his eyes widening as he quickly darted his head around the beautiful sculpted forest. He stopped walking and raised his sword, his dark power flowing into him until it was as if an inferno had been set alight in the pit of his stomach. His ring glinted with power and he whirled around as he heard a rustle, just as a creature stepped out from the trees.

The creature had green, leathery skin and beady eyes. It stood at eleven-feet, baring its sharp teeth as a cloud of black, foul vapour escaped its mouth with every breath. It snorted, bringing up a thick arm to scratch its armpit as it glared at Harry with malignant anger.

“Mortal child!” He shouted, his loud voice booming in the forest as he approached Harry with thundering footsteps. “You trespassing! Jlorf no like trespassers!”

'It is a Troll, beloved! It is not a very smart creature but in their native home, they are far more powerful than they appear in the mortal realm. Attempt to frighten it away.”

Harry swung his sword through the air in a threatening manner, his body flowing through a series of movements as the unconscious instincts and skills of Meciel's previous hosts flowed through him. The blade made a sharp whistling noise as it sliced through the air, halting the troll in its tracks as it stared at the blade, while Harry stumbled as the weight of the blade in motion threw his balance off.

“This is made of steel, or iron,” Harry hissed, regaining his step. “It slices through trolls like a hot knife slices through human flesh. Attack me if you dare!”

“Jlorf not afraid!” The troll snarled, its beady eyes tightening with anger, and without a moments hesitation, it continued in its charge, its footsteps thundering on the ground as it stretched out its arms.

Harry automatically sidestepped to the right, clumsily bringing his sword up to meet the rushing troll. Although his movements were far from perfect, the tip of his sword dug into green flesh as the troll rushed past. The troll let out a howl of pain, green blood glowing through the wound as the sword slice into it with ease. Flesh sizzled as the troll whirled around, a fanatic anger in its eyes as it raised a hand. Violet and emerald light flickered together as the troll gathered its power and hurled it at Harry, who awkwardly raised his steel sword. The faerie fire, a swirling thunderbolt of glowing magic, struck the sword and broke apart in the presence of steel, the air alight with sparkling green and purple hues.

“Firagen!'” Harry hissed coldly, the incantation of his evocation focussing and directing his dark powers.

He raised his left hand, dark power searing into his veins like a cascading torrent of intense heat. The smell of sulphur filled his nose, his crude ring glinting with a dark-azure light as a shimmering ripple of air formed in his left palm. With a quick flick of his wrist, the spell blasted from his hand, directed by the ring as it formed into a brightly glowing streak of fire. The troll moved faster than Harry would have thought possible, but it wasn't fast enough as the fire dug into its side, searing flesh with its blazing heat.

The troll let out a scream of agony and stumbled back, eyeing Harry with a lot more fear and caution than it had before. Blood pooled from its side from the sword wound and half of its chest was covered in thick, angry burns. With a soft snarl, the huge beast whirled around and thundered through the trees as it ran for its life.

'It will summon its allies and other of its kind, beloved. Chase it, kill it! Kill it!'

Harry took after the troll at a run, his sword slicing through the icy earth as he gripped it with his right hand, his left hand flying up as he shouted another incantation. Fire streaked through the air, red and yellow flames blasting upon a tree covered in black ice as it narrowly missed the limping troll.

For the next few minutes, Harry sprinted along the icy forests. The muscles in his legs burned as he ducked between huge, icy trees, his sword clumsily gripped in his right hand. He panted in exhaustion but his lips were curled in a smile of excitement, adrenaline and a sense of enjoyment rushing through him as he spotted a flicker of movement ahead of him, a flash of green flesh.

“Firerajo!” He shouted, his green eyes alight with dark power. Burning azure flames burst from his left palm, something steel-hard, steel-sharp. A thin arc, like a boomerang, shot through the air, filled with compressed flames and flickering with a soft blue light. Ice melted as it zoomed past, plants kindled and the air visible rippled as the arc sliced past the foliage, shattering upon a large, icy tree like a Molotov cocktail of blue flames.

'There, beloved! On your right!'

Harry hadn't caught the flash of movement in the corner of his eyes but Meciel had and without another word, he sprinted after it, dodging and weaving through the trees as he caught up with the wounded and limping troll, even with his small legs. The troll was standing on a small ledge with about a three metre drop and its head shot around as Harry burst form the trees, lifting his sword high and preparing to lunge. Without another word, the troll turned around and jumped from the ledge and a thundering cry. Harry gritted his teeth as he approached the ledge with at a sprint, gripping his sword tightly in both hands, and without a second thought, he jumped after the troll.

The troll landed on the icy ground with a thump, its eyes lighting up in a mixture of relief and anticipation as it saw its refuge. As it limped forward, its sharp ears picked up a rustling sound behind him and he whirled around, baring his sharp, green teeth as the boy-child landed on the ground with a loud thump, a grimace of pain flashing across his face. But the pain didn't stop the blazing pool of fire pooling in the boys hands from streaking out, digging into the trolls hide with a blaze of searing heat and sizzling flesh. The troll screamed in agony, clutching his chest as dark green blood oozed from the new wound, taking a staggered step forward as inhuman rage filled its veins, raising a fist to strike at the boy.

Harry let the troll come to him, ignoring the sharp, shooting pain coming up from his ankle as he limped forward, his sword rising in his hands. Grim determination and exhilaration sang in his veins and at the last second, he thrust forward with all of his might, steel burying itself deep into faeries flesh, slicing past bones and muscle. The troll made a gurgling noise, stumbling back as its eyes widened in a mixture of shock and horror. Blood flowed from the new wound, dark droplets of green staining the pure white snow as the beast tumbled to the ground, its strength fading as it died.

'Beloved, look ahead!'

Harry lifted his eyes from the troll and blinked in shock, dread suddenly replacing the exhilaration as laid eyes on what the troll was trying to reach. There was a small, icy pathway, a road of sorts, ahead. On this road there was a convoy of dozens of creatures surrounding a carriage made up of pure black ice, harnessed by four powerful-looking black-furred horses with sharp, incisor-like horn on their heads.

Dozens, hundreds even, of guards stood around this carriage. Trolls, twice as large as the one he had killed, grunted with anger behind black-ice armour, swords of frost blazing with the power of winter in their hands. Strange creatures, half-man and half-horse, cocked back thick bows, icy shards preparing to fly through the air at a moments notice. Dozens of little sparkling lights flew around the carriage, a beautiful wave of light, until Harry realised that they were faeries as well.

He put weight on his ankle, trying to keep the wince off his face as pain shot up his leg, a terrible flash that almost put tears into his eyes. Suddenly he felt Meciel's presence, her warmth spreading down into his ankle with a gentle glow and numbing the pain away. He tensed and prepared to run as the first few trolls stepped forward menacingly, but suddenly, they all stopped as a pale hand appeared from the carriage of black ice. The trolls stepped back into formation as the carriage door opened and a beautiful girl stepped out.

Her features were pale, radiant, perfect, and too perfect to be human. She looked young, maybe in her teenage years or early twenties, Harry couldn't tell as he stared at her open-mouthed. Her hair had been bound into long dreadlocks, each of them dyed a different shade, ranging from deep lavender to pale blues and greens to pure white, so that her hair looked as if it had been made from ice. She wore leather pants of dark blue, laced, which were ripped from calf to hip, showing off pale skin, and a white T-shirt tight around the bust. She had hacked the shirt off at the top of her rib cage, leaving pale flesh exposed. Long, opalescent fingernails tapped on her arm as she moved from the carriage with a liquid grace, a thoughtless, casual sensuality. Her face was beautiful, with strange canted, feline eyes, the colour almost identical to Harry's eyes.

At that moment, Harry had never seen anything more beautiful in his life and he gaped at the High Sidhe, a warm and pleasant haze filling his mind. Suddenly the haze shattered in a burst of searing heat and Harry shook his head, frowning as his head cleared.

''She was pushing a glamour on you, beloved!” Meciel said softly, warning in her voice. 'It was making you see and feel things that were not true! Be very wary here!'

“Well, it appears that we have a traveller in our fair lands,” The girl said, her voice throaty as she eyed Harry, a smile curving her lips, as if she had known that her glamour had failed. She gestured to her carriage with her hand, her voice warm with sympathy. “You look cold, tired and hurt. Winter is a dangerous place to travel. Would you like to sit down and rest?”

'This is a trap, beloved! Remember what I told you about accepting anything from the Sidhe!'

Harry shook his head warily, his green eyes flickering over to the ranks of strong and powerful inhuman guards. “No thankyou,” he said quietly.

The girl let out a small laugh as she approached him, waving her guards back as they attempted to follow her.

“You are polite for a boy of your age,” she said softly, coming to stand in front of him. “And you have wisdom.”

Harry said nothing as the girl surveyed his appearance with cool, feline eyes. Her gaze fell upon his sword and suddenly her smile faded ever so slightly, and when she spoke up next there was a tone of warning in her voice.

“Perhaps not so wise,” She said quietly. “You dare to bare iron in presence. Don't know who I am?”

“Nope,” Harry answered carefully, watching the Sidhe carefully.

The girl smiled; throwing out her arms in a grand gesture and straightening up with something akin to haughtiness on her face. Behind her, the ranks of creatures bowed in subservience, as if they had received some silent signal telling them move.

“I am the Lady of Winter,” She whispered, her eyes fixed upon Harry's face. “I am the Queen to come, superior of every winter denizen save for Queen that is!”

Harry felt Meciel suddenly give the mental equivalent to a start in surprise and felt her focus on the girl in front of him carefully.

'This is Maeve?' Harry heard her think, before her attention came onto Harry, her voice worried. 'This is the powerful winter creature we sensed before, beloved. You could be in some serious trouble here.'

“Have no fear, Fallen,” The Winter lady, Maeve said, her lips curving up into a smile as Harry started, staring at her with surprise. “I mean you no harm, of that you have my word.”

“You can hear her?” Harry asked in surprise, suddenly eying the Sidhe in front of him in a new light.

This is my domain and will be my domain,” said Maeve, smiling mysteriously. “I hear everything.”

'She is right, beloved. She can sense my presence in the coin, and with her power and skill, I expect that she would have little trouble tapping into our link.'

Harry frowned in worry, his hand coming up to clutch his chest, where the coin dangled from his neck on a necklace he had warded and spelled. Meciel had told him that most people like him usually inserted the coins somewhere into their bodies, so they had contact with it at all times while keeping it hidden and safe. He hadn't been quite ready to cut himself open.

“I'm not here to take coin, my little Denarius renegade,” Maeve said, eying his hand as if she knew what lay beneath his shirt. At Harry's look of surprise at his title, she let out a throaty laugh. “I saw your fight with the other woman not so long ago. It was a very spectacular defeat.”

“You saw that?” Harry echoed in shock.

“Oh yes,” Maeve said, her eyes glittering. “The Order of the Blackened Denarius is a fascinating organisation to watch, especially when they clash with each other. Watch here, my little renegade.”

Harry watched as she raised her hand and suddenly staggered back as faeries power flared into it. A nimbus of thick, glowing power surrounding the girl and suddenly Harry understood why she was a queen. The power pulsated, strong, potent and far more powerful than anything Harry had ever seen before. Maeve casually formed a complex spell with it, violet, bright green and dark blue strands of power pooling in her hand as she flicked her wrist at the icy ground beneath them. Harry looked down, fascinated as the ice shimmered as a moving image appeared from within the glacial depths.

He watched as a dragon-like creature appeared with wings of pure bone, whipping its tail and flinging a creature with dozens of metallic strands of hair away from it. The fight continued, the creatures exchanging blows until Harry winced as he saw the metal-haired creature, Deirdre, stab the wrym, Harry, in the chest.

“You are very young,” Maeve said quietly and Harry looked up, meeting her almost-hypnotic stare. “And you have much potential within you.”

Harry shuddered as she ran a finger down his chest, feelings bursting into his mind that were too mature for somebody his age.

“If you were to accept my help, I could make you a force to be reckoned with, a force more powerful than any of the other Denarians.”

Harry shook his head slowly, knowing where this was leading.

“No,” He said softly. “I don't want to make a bargain with you.”

Maeve drew her hand back as if she had been slapped, shock flaring onto her features. The ice beneath the ground suddenly rippled as the image faded away, replaced with swirling grey clouds as power warped around the Winter Lady.

“Are you refusing me?” She said, her voice lashing out with power, and Harry flinched, almost staggering back as it washed over him, drilling into his head, but at Meciel's urging he nodded shakily.

“I have more power in my hair than you do in your entire pathetic body and you refuse me!” Maeve hissed out, her pleasant face gone as something inhuman, cold and alien, appeared on her face. The sky seemingly darkened as clouds rumbled ahead and Harry suddenly shivered as a wave of coldness struck him, rubbing his arms as he gripped his sword, wondering if he should attack.

'She would kill you before you have even lifted you arm,' Meciel said soothingly, blowing away the shock of Maeve's power with her warm presence. 'Do not fall for this act. Maeve is far more manipulative than you could possible realise.'

Suddenly the sky cleared and the icy wind stopped as the anger fell away from Maeve with ease, her faerie power disappearing as quickly as it had come. The Winter Lady let out a seductive smile as she eyed Harry's chest, her gaze riveted on the exact place where the coin rested on its necklace.

“Ah Meciel,” She murmured, her voice throaty and warm. “You know me well.”

“You two have met?” Harry blurted out in surprise, still eying Maeve with wariness as he brushed snow and ice off his shoulders.

'I didn't recognise her at first, beloved, but yes, we have had our dealings in the past. The price was high but her aid was extremely useful.'

Maeve let out a tinkling laugh, throwing her head back and revealing her pale, flawless neck. She bent down, dropping to her knees, and turned her seductive gaze towards Harry, who swallowed nervously as her eyes met his, her pupils dilated as if she were on drugs or extremely aroused.

“Should you ever find yourself in need, young host of Meciel, do not hesitate to summon me,” She whispered softly and Harry shuddered with an unknown feeling as her warm breath tickled against his ear. “Perhaps we will sort out an agreement that will…satisfy…us both.”

“For a price,” Harry said, his voice almost squeaking as he tried to stay strong.

Maeve smiled seductively, her lips curving as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. She gazed at the boy in front of her and with a wicked smile, moved in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. Harry started, tingles of pleasure and something else shooting through him as Maeve stood up, a smirk on her face.

“Of course, but there may be a time where the reward is well worth the price,” She said seductively, idly licking her lips.

Harry watched with an open mouth as she turned around, her hips swaying enticingly as she glided back to her carriage. She stepped back into it and turned around, blowing a kiss and winking with such a suggestive look on her face that Harry blushed, heat suffusing in his cheeks.

He watched as the carriage glided away, pulled by the dark-furred unicorns and surrounded by the centaur and troll guards, who marched to its quick pace. Dozens, hundreds even, of coloured wisps, tiny fairies, followed after it as it turned a bend and disappeared behind a stalagmite of black ice.

“That was…” Harry started, his eyes almost dreamy, but trailed off hopelessly as he shook his head, shaking off the daze that Maeve's mere presence had brought along. “Interesting?”

'Indeed it was, beloved. You were lucky she appeared to be in a hurry, or you would have suffered far more than you know.'

The stars twinkled brightly in the night sky, the moon hanging lazily above as it glowed with a soft, warm light. In a deserted and empty location, near a small reserve, something ripped into the air, an uneven split that shimmered as a gust of icy snow blew out of it. Light filtered from it as a small figure stepped out, snow covering his clothes. The rip shimmered and suddenly disappeared as the boy casually waved his hand towards it, until there was no trace of it. The boy shook his hair, ruffling it with his hand as he brushed the hair away from it and then stepped forward, his eyes fixated on the large city ahead of him, lit up by multitudes of blinking lights as buildings towered into the sky.

“Well Meciel, I guess this will be our new home for now,” Harry said softly, a smile coming over his face as he gazed at the glowing city ahead of him.

'It will, beloved. Welcome to Chicago.'