Harry Potter and the Shattered Ring

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Chapter 9 (Golden Sky, Red Sky), Chapter 10 (Margit, The Fell), Chapter 11 (Bridge of the Fell Omen), Chapter 12 (The Stormveil Castle), Chapter 13 (The Whispering Abyss), Chapter 14 (Dungeons and Dragons' Blood), Chapter 15 (Harry Potter and The Bronze Knight), and Chapter 16 (Prince of Death) are already available for Patrons.

Harry lay on his bed, muscles aching pleasantly from the day's training. Melina sat cross-legged on his desk chair, her eye bright despite her own exhaustion. The afternoon sun filtered through his window, casting a warm glow that reminded him of the grace-enhanced knife's light.

"You've improved remarkably," Melina said, watching him fidget with the Erdtree seal on his wrist. "Creating and controlling two disks simultaneously is no small feat."

"Thanks to your guidance," Harry replied, remembering how the golden disks had sliced through tree branches before returning to his hand like deadly boomerangs. "Though I still can't believe I managed to make them come back to me."

"Your intent shapes the grace," Melina reminded him. "Speaking of which..." she tilted her head curiously, "tell me about your friends in this world. You mentioned them before, but never in detail."

Harry's face brightened. "Well, I met Ron first, on the train to Hogwarts. I was alone in my compartment, having no idea about anything in the wizarding world, when this gangly redhead asked if he could sit with me because everywhere else was full."

"Was it really full?" Melina asked, smiling knowingly.

"Probably not," Harry laughed. "But I'm glad he asked. He was the first real friend I'd ever had. He taught me about Quidditch, wizard chess, everything really."

"And the girl you mentioned? Hermione?"

Harry's expression softened. "That was... different. We weren't friends at first. She was brilliant but a bit... intense about rules and studying. Ron couldn't stand her, honestly."

"What changed?"

"A troll," Harry said simply, then elaborated at Melina's raised eyebrow. "On Halloween, a mountain troll got into the school. Hermione was crying in the bathroom because Ron had said some unkind things about her. She didn't know about the troll, so Ron and I went to warn her. We ended up fighting the troll together."

"Nothing builds friendship like facing death together," Melina observed.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, remembering that terrifying night. "After that, we were inseparable. Hermione's incredible, really. Smartest witch in our year. She's saved our lives more times than I can count with her quick thinking and knowledge."

Melina watched him carefully as he spoke, noting how his eyes lit up and his gestures became more animated. "Is she your lover?" she asked directly.

Harry choked on air, sitting up too quickly. "What? No! We're just friends! Best friends!"

"Mmhmm," Melina hummed skeptically. "Your voice changes when you speak of her. Becomes warmer."

Harry's mind traitorously flashed to the photo he'd received last week - Hermione on a beach in France, wearing a modest but flattering blue bikini, her usually bushy hair tamed by seawater into elegant waves. She'd been smiling broadly at the camera, looking more relaxed than he'd ever seen her at school.

"We're just friends," he repeated, though his reddening face betrayed him. "She's... she....I think she and Ron might have a thing"

"I see," Melina said, though her tone suggested she saw more than Harry was comfortable with. "And this doesn't bother you?"

"...No." Harry suttered out with a red face.

Melina laughed softly but allowed the subject change. 

Melina studied him for a moment longer before changing the subject. "Tell me more about this troll fight. I'm curious about how three untrained children managed to defeat such a creature."

As Harry launched into the tale, complete with dramatic reenactment of Ron's levitation charm, he couldn't help but notice how Melina's question about Hermione had made his heart race. But was it because the idea was so absurd, or because he'd never really thought about it before?

He pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on making Melina laugh with his impression of Professor McGonagall's reaction to finding three first-years in a bathroom with an unconscious troll. Some questions were better left unexplored, especially when they involved your best friends.

Besides, he thought as he watched Melina's eye crinkle with amusement, there were other matters of the heart that felt more... immediate.

"So, she became your 'friend' after you two saved her life from the troll."

"She's my friend. Just my friend."

"Of course," Melina agreed, but her slight smile remained. "Though perhaps you should examine why you keep that photo by your bedside."

Harry's hand instinctively moved to cover the drawer where he'd stored Hermione's letter and photo. "It's not... I mean... how did you know about that?"

"I didn't," Melina's smile widened. "Until now."

Harry groaned and flopped back onto his bed. "You're worse than Sirius," he complained, though there was no real annoyance in his voice.

"Sirius?"

"My godfather."

"Your godfather sounds like a wise man, thought his name is...very serious," Melina teased. "Now, shall we discuss your obvious feelings for your 'just friend', or would you prefer to practice more golden disks?"

"Definitely the disks," Harry said firmly, sitting up again. "Actually, I think I could manage three now if we tried..."

Limgrave

The sun was setting over Limgrave when Harry and Melina returned to the camp. The familiar sight of soldiers training and maintaining their equipment was joined by an unfamiliar figure - a bald man with an unsettling smile who seemed to be examining everything and everyone with calculating eyes.

"Welcome back, Lord Potter!" Artan called out, raising his hand in greeting. His soldiers echoed the welcome, some pausing their training to nod respectfully.

The bald man's eyes lit up. "Ah, so this is the famous Harry Potter I've been hearing about." His voice had an oily quality that reminded Harry uncomfortably of Lockhart, but smarter. "Interesting attire for a Tarnished. Though I suppose fashion differs in other worlds."

"And you are?" Harry asked carefully, noting how Melina had subtly tensed beside him.

"Patches, at your service!" The man gave an elaborate bow that somehow managed to seem both respectful and mocking. "Purveyor of information and rare goods, helper of lost souls, and general friend to all Tarnished!"

"Right..." Harry said slowly.

"In fact," Patches continued, his smile widening, "I've just learned something that might interest a promising young Tarnished such as yourself. There's a girl, you see, just past the gate. Roderika's her name. Quite talented with spirits, she is."

Harry turned to Melina. "Spirits?"

"Spirit ashes," Melina explained, keeping one eye on Patches. "Certain individuals can teach others to summon the spirits of fallen warriors. These spirits can fight alongside you in battle."

"Like having backup in a fight?" Harry asked, his interest genuinely piqued. The idea of having reliable allies in combat was appealing, especially given what he'd seen of this world's dangers.

"Precisely!" Patches clapped his hands. "And Roderika is quite gifted at strengthening such spirits. Make them more... reliable, shall we say?"

Harry studied Patches carefully. "This seems like valuable information. What's the catch?"

Patches pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Catch? Can't a fellow Tarnished simply help another out of the goodness of his heart?"

"Could," Harry agreed, "but are you?"

Patches' smile shifted from false innocence to genuine appreciation. "Sharp lad! Yes, there is a small favor I'd ask in return." He produced a weathered map from his pocket. "In Stormveil Castle, there's a certain... item I've been seeking. Nothing too valuable, mind you, just a personal treasure. Bring it to me, and I'll provide you with something quite useful - a map showing a secret entrance to Raya Lucaria Academy."

"The academy for Carian magic?" Harry glanced at Melina, who nodded slightly.

"A center of magical learning," she explained. "And currently sealed off from normal access."

"The very same!" Patches confirmed. "So, what do you say? A simple retrieval job in exchange for valuable information? Seems fair, doesn't it?"

Harry took the map, examining the crude but detailed drawings of Stormveil's interior. "What exactly am I looking for?"

"A ceremonial dagger," Patches said. "Golden handle, curved blade. You'll find it in the chapel marked on that map. Can't miss it!"

"And you'll give me the academy map when I bring it back?"

"On my honor as a merchant!" Patches declared, though his smile remained decidedly shifty.

"We'll consider it," Harry said diplomatically. "First, I think I'll pay this Roderika a visit."

"Wise choice," Melina murmured as they walked away from Patches, who was already engaging some soldiers in conversation. "Though be careful with any deal involving Patches. He's... known for his creative interpretation of agreements."

"Noticed that, did you?" Harry smiled. "He reminds me of someone from home - someone who always has a 'great deal' that somehow never quite works out as promised."

"Still," Melina mused, "the information about Roderika seems genuine. Spirit ashes could be very useful for you, especially if you're planning to enter Stormveil."

"And the academy map?"

"Would be valuable... if he actually has it." Melina's eye glinted with amusement. "Though I suspect getting it might involve more 'favors' than he's currently mentioning."

Harry pocketed the map. "Well, let's see what Roderika has to say first. Then we can decide if Patches' treasure hunt is worth our time."

As they rode toward the gate, Harry couldn't help but notice how Patches watched them go, that calculating smile never leaving his face. Something told him this wouldn't be the last time their paths crossed - for better or worse.

The soldiers at the gate straightened as Harry approached, their respect evident in their quick salutes. Torrent's hooves clattered against the stone road as they rode through, Melina's presence warm and steady behind him. Her arms around his chest reminded him oddly of flying on his Firebolt, though this felt more... intimate somehow.

The path wound upward, revealing more of Stormveil's imposing silhouette against the darkening sky. Broken siege equipment and hastily constructed barricades lined the road.

Near the castle's outer gate, Harry spotted a ruined house off to the side. Its roof had long since collapsed, leaving its interior exposed to the elements. The sound of quiet sobbing drew his attention.

"Whoa," Harry murmured, gently pulling Torrent's reins. The spectral steed came to a stop, and Harry dismounted, offering his hand to help Melina down.

Inside the ruins, a young woman sat huddled against a wall, her shoulders shaking with grief. 

The woman was wearing a deep crimson cloak, which drapes over her shoulders and falls around her, the fabric rich and luxurious with subtle embroidery along the edges. The intricate patterns, woven in gold thread. 

Beneath the cloak, she is dressed in a fitted tunic of light fabric, the color a soft cream that contrasts with the deep red of her cloak. A leather belt cinches her waist, adorned with ornate, golden accents. Her gloves, made of dark brown leather, reach up to her forearms, intricately designed with small buckles and stitching.

At the center of her chest, pinned to the cloak's fastening, is an emerald brooch that gleams in the soft sunlight filtering through the window. The gem is large and oval, surrounded by delicate metalwork.

Her face is strikingly beautiful, with fair, smooth skin and sharp, delicate features. Her blonde hair, peeking out from under her hood, is styled neatly in soft waves that frame her face. Her eyes are a piercing green. 

"Are you alright?" Harry called softly, keeping his hands visible as he approached.

The woman flinched violently, looking up with red-rimmed eyes. "Who... who are you?"

"I'm Harry Potter," he said gently. "And this is Melina. We heard about you from... well, someone at the camp mentioned you might be able to help with spirit ashes."

"Roderika," she introduced herself, wiping her eyes with a trembling hand. "I... I'm sorry you came all this way, but I can't help anyone anymore. Not after what happened."

"What did happen?" Harry asked, crouching down to her level. "Why are you crying?"

Roderika's face crumpled. "My friends... my brave, foolish friends. We came here together. But they..." her voice broke. "They were taken. Captured. And then... then he..."

"He?" Harry prompted gently, though he had a sinking feeling he knew who she meant.

"Godrick," she spat the name. "He took them apart. Their heads, their arms, their legs... all grafted onto his latest creation. A monster... a spider made of human parts." She covered her face with her hands. "I can still hear their screams..."

Harry felt sick. "I'll stop him," he said firmly. "I'll make him pay for what he's done to your friends."

"No!" Roderika grabbed his arm, her eyes wild with fear. "You can't! You'll die, just like they did! He's too strong, too well protected. The castle is full of his soldiers and his... his creations."

"I have to try," Harry insisted. "He can't be allowed to keep doing this."

"You sound just like them," Roderika said bitterly. "So brave, so certain. And now they're just... parts... pieces of his collection."

"Harry," Melina touched his shoulder. "Perhaps we should consider this carefully. Roderika's warning shouldn't be dismissed lightly."

Harry looked between the two women, seeing genuine concern in both their faces. "I understand the risks," he said finally. "But I also understand what happens when people like Godrick are left unchecked. They only get worse."

Roderika studied him for a long moment. "You've faced monsters before, haven't you? I can see it in your eyes."

"Yes," Harry said simply, thinking of basilisks and professor Quirrell.

"Then..." Roderika reached into her pouch with shaking hands. "Take this. It's a spirit calling bell. If... if you're determined to face him, at least don't face him alone, and take this to call wolves to help you." She pressed the small bell and a crystal into his hands. "It's not much, but..."

"It's more than enough," Harry assured her, carefully tucking the bell away. "Thank you."

"Just..." Roderika's voice quavered. "Just promise me you'll be careful. I couldn't bear to see another brave soul end up as part of his collection."

"I promise," Harry said solemnly, though they all knew such promises were easier made than kept in the Lands Between.

As they left Roderika's shelter, Melina spoke softly. "You're certain about this?"

Harry looked up at Stormveil's towers, thinking of the horrors that waited within. "No," he admitted. "But I'm certain about what will happen if nobody tries to stop him."

Melina's hand found his, squeezing gently. "Then we'd better make sure you're properly prepared. Shall we begin your spirit ash training?"

"You think you can teach me?"

"Probably not, but we should try."

Later

After failing so many times to summon spirits, Melina and Harry decided to try again tomorrow. The campfire crackled softly as Harry helped Roderika settle near its warmth. She wrapped her arms around herself, looking like she might bolt at any moment, but the comfort of the flames seemed to gradually ease her tension.

"Would you like some tea?" Harry offered, conjuring cups with a wave of his wand - a gesture that made Roderika's eyes widen.

"That's... that's not like any sorcery I've seen before," she said, accepting the cup with trembling hands.

"It's not sorcery, actually. At least, not the kind you know," Harry explained. "I'm not originally from the Lands Between."

"Not from...?" Roderika looked confused. "But all Tarnished are from the Lands Between, aren't they?"

Melina shook her head. "Harry's case is unique. He comes from another world entirely."

"Another world?" Roderika leaned forward, curiosity overwhelming her grief. "What's it like there?"

Harry smiled, warming to the subject. "Well, I go to a school called Hogwarts - it's a castle too, but very different from Stormveil. We learn magic there, but with wands instead of staffs or seals. There are four houses - I'm in Gryffindor..."

As Harry described Hogwarts, its moving staircases and friendly ghosts, Roderika seemed to forget her fears for a moment. Her questions came more freely: "And everyone there can use magic? Even children? And you don't have to fight for survival every day?"

"Well, it's not always safe," Harry admitted, thinking of his previous adventures. "But generally, yes, it's meant to be a place of learning, not constant combat."

"It sounds wonderful," Roderika sighed. "Like a dream..."

A comfortable silence fell, broken only by the crackling fire. Then Harry turned to Melina. "I should probably work on getting stronger before attempting anything too ambitious. What would you suggest?"

"Building up your strength would be wise," Melina agreed. "There are many ways to gather runes and experience."

"Oh!" Roderika perked up. "There's a dragon in the lake near the church! The soldiers say it has many runes..."

Harry nearly choked on his tea. "A dragon? Like, an actual dragon?"

"Is that unusual?" Roderika asked. "I thought all warriors faced dragons eventually."

"I'm only fourteen!" Harry protested. "The most dangerous thing I've faced was a basilisk, and that was more luck than skill."

Melina touched his arm gently. "There are other options. The caves and catacombs throughout Limgrave hold many challenges more suitable for building experience. The creatures there are dangerous but manageable with your current abilities."

"And they still provide good runes?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Yes," Melina confirmed. "Plus, you can practice with your spirit ashes in more controlled situations."

"The Coastal Cave isn't too far," Roderika suggested. "And there's Murkwater Cave up the river, but I've heard bandits have taken it over..."

Harry pulled out his map, marking these locations. "This seems more reasonable than taking on a dragon straight away. No offense to dragons, but I'd like to work my way up to that level of challenge."

"A wise choice," Melina said approvingly. "Overconfidence has claimed many Tarnished lives."

"Speaking of which," Roderika said hesitantly, "if you're planning to explore the caves... I could help strengthen your spirit ashes when you return. If you find any glovewort in there..."

"You'd do that?" Harry asked. "I thought you didn't want to help."

Roderika stared into the fire. "My friends... they died because we weren't prepared. We thought we were ready for anything. Maybe... maybe by helping you do this properly, I can make their sacrifice mean something."

"Thank you," Harry said softly. "I promise to be careful."

"Dawn's approaching," Melina noted, looking at the lightening sky. "Perhaps we should rest before starting any explorations?"

Harry nodded, feeling the weight of the day's events. As they prepared sleeping rolls around the fire, he couldn't help but think about how different this was from his life at Hogwarts. 

"Harry?" Roderika's voice was quiet. "What's it like, having a normal life? Going to school, having friends who don't have to fight all the time?"

Harry thought about his answer carefully. "It's... precious. Even with all the weird things that happen at Hogwarts, there's still this sense that things will be okay. That you can focus on learning and growing without constantly looking over your shoulder."

"It sounds wonderful, and I'm happy you have decided to help us, despite having a much better world to stay in." she said sincerely. "I'm glad you're here now. Maybe you can help make things better here too."

As Harry drifted off to sleep, he thought about dragons and caves, spirit wolves and magic bells.

Melina kept watch, her single eye reflecting the dying embers, while Roderika finally slept peacefully for the first time since losing her friends. 

Tomorrow

After Melina and Harry kept failing to summon the spirits, the two returned to Roderika who seemed to be feeling a little better. The two explained their problem, and she decided to help them, but away from the camp, according to her, failing to summon a spirit ash could cause little accidents to happen.

The morning sun filtered through the trees as Roderika led Harry and Melina to a secluded clearing. Fallen leaves crunched beneath their feet, and a gentle breeze rustled through the branches above.

"Right then," Roderika said with a little smile, her hood pulled back to reveal her kind face. "This should be a perfect spot for your first spirit summoning. No distractions, and plenty of space in case things go... interesting."

"Interesting?" Harry asked warily. "What exactly counts as 'interesting' around here?"

"Oh, you know," she waved her hand dismissively, "sometimes beginners accidentally summon their spirit ash upside down, or the spirit appears all grumpy. Nothing too terrible. Usually."

"Usually?" Harry muttered, but took out the crystal and bell she had given him. The crystal was cool to the touch, with intricate carvings etched into its surface that seemed to shift when he wasn't looking directly at them.

"Now then," Roderika instructed, positioning herself in front of him. "Hold the crystal in your left hand, bell in your right. Close your eyes and try to feel the memories within the crystal."

Harry did as she said, feeling slightly foolish standing there with his eyes closed. "I don't feel anything except slightly ridiculous."

"That's perfectly normal!" Roderika assured him with the same small smile. "My first time, I stood there for an hour before anything happened. Then I sneezed and accidentally summoned a jellyfish that got stuck in a tree."

Harry opened one eye. "How does a spirit jellyfish even get stuck in a—"

"Focus!" Roderika chided gently. "The memories are there, you just need to reach for them. Think of it like... like trying to remember a dream. The images are there, but you have to let them come to you naturally."

Harry closed his eye again and tried to clear his mind. At first, there was nothing but darkness. Then, gradually, he began to see faint flickers of... something.

"I think... I think I see—nope, lost it," he sighed.

"That's alright! Keep trying. My second attempt, I summoned a headless chicken that ran in circles for five minutes."

"How did you summon a headless—"

"Harry," Melina interrupted softly, "focus."

He took a deep breath and tried again. This time, the images came more clearly. He saw flashes of movement, of fur and teeth and fierce loyalty. Three wolves, fighting alongside each other against a massive giant.

"I see them," he whispered. "Three wolves..."

"Yes!" Roderika clapped. "Now ring the bell, but keep focusing on the image!"

Harry rang the bell, its clear tone resonating through the clearing. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the crystal in his hand began to glow with a purple light that seemed to seep into the air around him.

With a sound like rushing wind, three spectral wolves materialized around him, their forms composed of translucent blue light. They were beautiful and fierce, their ethereal fur rippling in a nonexistent breeze.

"Oh, well done!" Roderika exclaimed. "And right-side up on the first try! You're a proper prodigy, you are!"

The wolves turned their attention to Melina and Roderika, hackles raised slightly. But after a moment of tension, they seemed to sense no threat from either woman and relaxed, turning to look at Harry expectantly.

"They're waiting for your command," Roderika explained. "But don't dawdle – spirit ashes can only maintain their form for about a minute, and the crystal will need time to recover its energy before you can use it again."

"Right," Harry said, still somewhat amazed by the spectral creatures before him. "Um... could you maybe... attack that fallen log over there?"

The wolves immediately sprang into action, launching themselves at the indicated target. Their ethereal teeth and claws tore into the rotting wood with surprising effectiveness, sending splinters flying.

"Magnificent!" Roderika beamed. "Much better than my third attempt. That time I summoned a merchant who tried to sell me imaginary pottery for ten minutes."

"How do you even—" Harry began, but was interrupted as the wolves began to fade, their forms growing transparent before dissolving into motes of blue light that drifted away on the breeze.

"That was remarkable, Harry," Melina said, stepping forward. "Most people struggle for days before achieving a successful summoning."

"It's true!" Roderika nodded. "Why, I remember this one fellow who—"

"Please," Harry held up his hand, grinning, "I don't think I want to know what kind of spirit you accidentally summoned that time."

"Oh, it wasn't that bad," Roderika protested. "The dancing bear was quite talented, actually. Though we never did figure out why it was wearing a tutu..."

Harry looked down at the crystal in his hand, which had lost its glow and now appeared ordinary once more. "How long until I can use it again?"

"Usually a few hours," Roderika explained. "The crystal needs to rebuild its energy. Though hopefully not like that time I tried to recharge a crystal and ended up with a ghostly choir that only sang sea shanties..."

"You're making that up," Harry accused, though he was smiling.

"I wish I was!" Roderika said. "Poor things were terribly off-key too. But never mind that – you've got a natural talent for this! The wolves responded to you perfectly. Usually, first-time summons are a bit... confused. Like my fifth attempt when I got a knight who thought he was a butterfly..."

"Right," Harry interrupted quickly before she could launch into another story. "So I just need to wait a few hours, then I can try again?"

"Exactly!" Roderika nodded. "Though maybe next time we should practice somewhere with fewer trees. Just in case you summon something tall. Or flying. Or both. Like that time with the flying horse that was afraid of heights..."

Melina cleared her throat pointedly.

"Oh, right, sorry!" Roderika said. "Got carried away there. The point is, you did wonderfully, Harry. Those wolves will be powerful allies in battle. Just remember: focus on the memories, ring the bell, and give clear commands. And try not to summon them indoors – learned that lesson the hard way with the spiritual elephant in the shop..."

"Roderika," Melina said gently.

"Right, right, no more stories!" She grinned sheepishly. "Though I do have this great one about a ghost crab that thought it was a—"

"Perhaps we should head back," Melina suggested quickly, as Harry tried to suppress his laughter.

As they walked back through the forest, Harry couldn't help but feel proud of his achievement. The crystal felt different now, like a living thing sleeping in his palm. He knew the wolves would come again when he called, ready to fight by his side.

"Just wait until I tell you about the time I summoned a spirit merchant who only sold left shoes..." Roderika began.

"No more stories!" Melina and Harry said in unison, their laughter echoing through the trees.

Harry looked at the new girl over his shoulder and noticed that she seemed sad again, the same way she was when they found her in that small destroyed house. He wondered if perhaps her telling stories like this was her way of coping with what happened to her friends. Maybe this was her way of distracting herself. He could understand that. So, a little reluctantly, he told Roderika that he wanted to hear more of her stories. Roderika smiled while Melina looked at him as if he had gone mad, and perhaps he had.

Later

Harry, Melina and Roderika sat near a campfire that evening near the place where they found Roderika, with several collected spirit ashes laid out between them. The crystallized remains glowed with different intensities and colors, each telling its own story.

"The variety is quite remarkable," Melina explained, picking up a reddish ash. "This one contains the spirit of a lone bandit who specialized in ambush tactics. When summoned, he uses throwing knives and quick strikes."

"And this one?" Harry pointed to a cluster of white-blue ashes.

"Ah, the Jellyfish. Don't let its peaceful appearance fool you - it's quite resilient and can poison enemies from a distance. Many novice Tarnished find it invaluable."

Harry sorted through the others, fascinated. "So we have:

- Knight Engvall: A spectral knight who uses a halberd

- Giant Rat: Small but quick, good for distractions

- Wandering Noble: Basic sword fighters, but they come in groups"

"Indeed," Roderika nodded. "The rarer ones are even more impressive. There are tales of legendary warriors whose ashes can turn the tide of battle - like Lhutel the Headless, a powerful tank-like spirit, or the Mimic Tear, which creates a copy of the summoner themselves."

"A copy of myself?" Harry's eyes widened. "That could be incredibly useful."

"If we can find it," Roderika cautioned. "Such powerful ashes are usually well-guarded. But yes, imagine having two of you casting grace-enhanced spells."

Harry picked up another ash. "What about these bird-like ones?"

"Stormhawk Deenh. It doesn't attack directly but buffs its summoner's strength. Each spirit has its unique purpose - some excel at direct combat, others at support roles."

"Like putting together a proper team," Harry mused, thinking of the DA. "Choosing the right spirits for the right situation."

"Exactly. Though remember, you can only summon one type at a time, so choose wisely." 

Harry decided to stick with the wolves for now. 

Night

Harry jolted awake, a familiar yet strange sensation prickling at his magical senses. A silvery mist had settled around their campsite, reminiscent of the Patronus charm but somehow... different. More ancient, far more powerful.

"Harry Potter..."

The whispered voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Harry glanced at his companions - both Melina and Roderika were sound asleep, undisturbed by the ethereal fog or the calling voice.

"Harry Potter..."

There it was again, clearer this time. Definitely feminine, with an echo that seemed to ripple through reality itself. Harry stood carefully, his hand grasping the pommel of his sword.

Near the crumbling wall of Roderika's shelter, a figure sat in an ornate chair that Harry was certain hadn't been there before. His breath caught in his throat as he took in her appearance.

She was beautiful in an impossible way - like a painting come to life but painted with starlight instead of oils. Four arms rested gracefully on the chair's arms, each seemingly solid yet somehow ethereal. Her face was even more striking: her left eye watched him with an intelligence that reminded him of Dumbledore, while her right eye remained closed. But what truly caught his attention was the ghostly second face that seemed to float beside her own, like a reflection in water that had gained independence, and the ghost face had her right eye open, and her left was closed.

Her elaborate witch's hat and flowing silver dress seemed to shimmer with their own inner light. She beckoned to him with one of her hands, a gentle smile playing across her lips.

"How do you know my name?" Harry asked, approaching cautiously.

"I am Ranni the Witch," she replied, her voice carrying that same ethereal echo. "Word of your arrival has reached even my tower. A Tarnished from another world... how fascinating."

Harry studied her carefully. Like Dumbledore, he sensed she was revealing only what she chose to reveal, keeping countless secrets behind that knowing smile.

"What do you want with me?"

Ranni's smile widened slightly. "Such directness. Refreshing, in these lands of riddles and half-truths. I come bearing a gift, young Potter." One of her hands opened, revealing a silver ring that seemed to capture and reflect moonlight that wasn't there.

"Similar to Melina's ring," Harry observed.

"Indeed. Though where hers channels the grace of gold, mine bears the power of the dark moon. Should you choose to wear it, you may find yourself capable of magics unknown even in your world of wands and wizardry."

Harry hesitated. "And what's the catch?"

Ranni laughed softly, the sound like distant wind chimes. "Caution. Good. You're learning. Consider it an invitation, nothing more. My tower stands among the Three Sisters, should you wish to learn more of moon sorcery. Such power could aid you greatly in becoming Elden Lord."

"I'm not here to become Elden Lord," Harry protested. "I just want to-"

"Help this world and therefore your world from the outer gods?" Ranni's knowing smile never wavered. "To protect those who need protecting? Perhaps all paths lead to the same destination, young Potter. Or perhaps none do. That is the beauty of choice, is it not?"

She held out the ring. Harry found himself taking it, the metal cool against his palm but somehow alive.

"Why me?" he asked.

"Why indeed?" Ranni's form began to shimmer, breaking apart into countless motes of silver light. "Perhaps because you understand better than most that destiny and choice are not mutually exclusive. Until we meet again, Harry Potter."

The lights scattered like stars returning to the night sky, leaving Harry alone with the ring in his palm and more questions than answers. The mist dissipated, and the normal sounds of night returned.

Harry looked back at his sleeping companions, wondering if he should wake them. The ring caught what little moonlight filtered through the clouds, and for a moment, Harry thought he saw runes shifting beneath its surface.

He tucked it carefully into his pouch. Whatever game Ranni was playing, whatever destiny she hinted at, he'd face it in the morning. After exploring the caves, getting more runes and spirit crystals as he liked to call them. Harry felt ready to go to the Stormveil castle, but he would need to go back to his real world soon. It's been seven hours since he was in his world.

As he settled back down to sleep, Harry couldn't help but smile slightly. Different world, same cryptic mentors with their mysterious gifts and vaguer purposes. At least some things remained consistent across realities.

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