The cycle is nearly endless. Certainly, it strains Harry’s sanity. His body is consistently revitalized by Alexstrasza’s life energy, and for every time she has to gift him more of that energy so he can keep on fucking her, Harry is able to turn a smidgen of it into his own power. This allows him to keep up, but as time goes on, it still wears on his mind.
 
Luckily, his mind… isn’t entirely human anymore. No, one might say that it’s become something quite alien indeed. Harry’s sense of self has become warped and stretched during his time on Azeroth, his very being becoming more… elastic in a way. It’s that elasticity that allows him to survive the Life-Binder’s not so tender mercies.
 
The Dragon Queen is unrelenting and insatiable… at first. She comes at him again and again, and Harry finds himself holding on for dear life. He’s enjoying it initially, truly he is… but there comes a point when he just wonders if it’s ever going to actually end, pondering the meaning of an existence based entirely on fucking.
 
That’s how long it goes on, though admittedly he doesn’t know the exact length of time. There are no clocks in the Dragon Queen’s lair, and indeed he doesn’t even have enough space or time to himself to cast a small little spell that would tell him what day or what time it was. The progression of time itself seems to almost stall… or become utterly ceaseless in its entirety.
 
Alexstrasza requires no form of sustenance, apparently, save for the creation of new life. For so long, the Leader of the Red Dragonflight (of all the Dragonflights, really) has gone without. Bereft of consorts, bereft of children, she has been a mother without a purpose. A Life-Binder with vanishingly little Life to bind together.
 
Harry had arrived at a critical juncture to provide the crucial missing component and Alexstrasza had leapt at the opportunity to extract every last bit of life-bearing seed from him. Even if she despised him for his Death-Aligned nature, there was no denying that his virile body was critical to the revitalization of her Dragonflight. And so, she’d set aside her own personal feelings and thrown herself into that revitalization process.
 
He'd just been along for the ride… and likely would have ended up used up if not for his ability to assimilate small little bits of Alexstrasza’s power after each time she granted him her Boon and bestowed her Power upon him to keep him going. Indeed, Harry could imagine such a world where Alexstrasza killed two birds with one stone… removing him from existence by draining him dry of every last drop of seed he had in his shriveled balls.
 
That had not happened. That WOULD NOT happen. Harry had clung to that belief, had decided that no, he wasn’t fucking dying like this. This most pleasurable of fates would not be his end. Instead, clinging to those shreds of power left over each time his Death-Aligned magic chewed through yet another of Alexstrasza’s heady infusions of Life Energy, Harry had begun to climb.
 
He had climbed the incomparable mountain that was the Dragon Queen’s stamina. He had, putting one hand above the other, made his way slowly but surely to the very top. Holding on by a fucking thread, he’d reached that peak… and brought the Life-Binder herself to her proverbial knees.
 
Or so he tells himself, even as he slowly, carefully decouples himself from the now-sleeping Dragon Queen. With no clue how long it’s been, Harry looks at Alexstrasza’s restful expression. Deep in slumber, the gorgeous Red Dragon is finally satiated… but he has no misconceptions about what she will want to do with him when she wakes up.
 
There… there is no turning the tables here, Harry has long since realized. There was only survival, and if this were a video game like those back on his previous home of Earth, Harry would be at one health point remaining, for sure. Likewise, his ‘mana’ pool would be very, very drained, despite now having the capacity to be utterly massive thanks to the bits of power he’d siphoned from the Life-Binder.
 
Still, he had enough magical power left in him to do one thing and one thing only… escape. Crawling far enough away from Alexstrasza, barely able to hold onto consciousness himself after somehow managing to outlast the Dragon Queen in a contest of sexual stamina, Harry pants as he’s forced to etch magical runes in the ground with a single glowing finger.
 
Normally, he had more than enough power not to need any sort of focus. He could cast magic with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back most days. But it was… cost-intensive. It required more power than most could lay claim to, but for him, represented an inconsequential sum.
 
Not anymore, however. No, he was so low on magical essence at the moment that Harry had to draw out every single rune, feeding bits and pieces of his magic into them to set them aglow. Finally, he finished the magical teleportation circle… and with the last of both his physical AND magical strength, slammed his palm down into the center.
 
The bright flash might have woken Alexstrasza from her slumber… or it might not have considered how they’d worn each other out. In the end, it mattered little at least to Harry, because the bright flash heralded his departure, making it too late for her to stop him and depositing him in one of the few places he believed she could not follow and retrieve him from.
 
Landing in Jaina’s quarters in the highest tower of Dalaran, Harry hits the soft carpeted floor with a groan, his entire body aching. Pain. His existence was nothing but pain. And now that he was no longer in the Dragon Queen’s life-rich presence, he was starting to feel things like hunger and thirst again. He felt like a man dying.
 
Opening his mouth to call out for help, nothing exits but a faint wheeze. Luckily, he’s not alone for long.
 
“What the FUCK was tha- Harry! Vereesa, it’s Harry!”
 
“What?! Oh, by the Light!”
 
He’s already losing consciousness, as Jaina and Vereesa reach him. The Archmage and Ranger-General’s faces fill his field of view just as it’s rapidly shrinking down to a pinprick. With the last of his strength, Harry offers a tired, lazy smile and manages a couple words through his incredibly dry throat.
 
“H-hey… girls…”
 
Darkness overtakes him a moment later, Jaina and Vereesa’s panicked squawking the last thing he hears before he’s utterly unconscious.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Waking up is… hard. As he comes back to consciousness, Harry is aware of every inch of his body. Mostly because its still screaming at him for the abuse he put it through. Not that it was really his fault, Ysera was the one who had offered him up on a silver platter to her sister. Harry… Harry had just gone with it. And then, he’d needed to survive.
 
Well, at least he’d managed that last bit. Despite his entire body aching like he’d had a mountain dropped on him, Harry was alive. And indeed, felt… somewhat well-rested? It’s a titanic effort just opening his eyes, but slowly he does it, fluttering his lids to get the sleep crusted on them out of the way. He couldn’t even bring himself to move his arms, to lift them up so one of his hands could do so instead.
 
He's in a bed, of course. But not just any bed… he’s in Jaina’s bed, in her quarters. Relaxing a bit, feeling actually safe, Harry lets out a soft groan that immediately alerts the two women in the room to his state of wakefulness.
 
“Harry!”
 
“You’re awake!”
 
Jaina and Vereesa are at his sides immediately, grabbing his hands and clutching at them fiercely. The first two women he’d met in this world, the first two women he’d bedded. Heh, and in Jaina’s case, the first woman in this world he’d said he loved.
 
Smiling tiredly at the both of them, Harry lets out a soft sigh.
 
“Hello ladies. Thanks… thanks for nursing me back to health.”
 
The two both look concerned, and Vereesa does the talking, even as Jaina uses her free hand to cast diagnostic spells on him.
 
“You had us worried. Showing up like that in Jaina’s study three days ago… luckily, you were added to the wards…”
 
Harry groans and moves to sit up. Jaina immediately puts a hand on his chest, looking downright sorrowful as she keeps him in place. Chuckling softly, Harry lets her coddle him, smiling a roguish grin at her as he rolls his shoulders carefully, slowly.
 
“Heh, damn… three whole days. I must have had you both really worried.”
 
Finally, Jaina speaks. Her voice is raspy, like she’s been crying recently, and now that he looks at her, truly looks at her… she looks like a fucking wreck. Vereesa doesn’t look too good either, but the Ranger-General is certainly much more put-together than Jaina.
 
“Harry… you were gone for six months.”
 
Her words rock him, and for a moment he wants to say she’s wrong. Not that she would lie to him, but merely that she’s… she’s misinformed. Somehow. Except he knows better. It was he who couldn’t keep track of time while in the Life-Binder’s Lair. In comparison, free to move about the world as she was, Jaina wouldn’t somehow conflate weeks into months or anything like that.
 
The knowledge that he was literally fucking Alexstrasza for half a year straight fills Harry with a strange sensation. He’s not sure what to think… not sure how to react. It’s a huge bombshell. Does it enrage him? Does it upset him? He… he honestly can’t say for certain one way or the other. In the end, Harry, feeling honestly blank, stares back at Jaina and answers the only way he can think to.
 
“… Oh.”
 
Jaina’s face scrunches up into something distraught and incensed.
 
“’Oh’? That’s all you have to say, Harry? I tell you you’ve been missing for half a year and all you can say is ‘Oh’?!”
 
Wincing, Harry lets out a sheepish little laugh.
 
“Sorry, I guess it just hasn’t hit me yet… I mean, it was important, sort of, right? The Red Dragonflight was suffering… the Dragon Queen was suffering. And I guess I helped her and them, yeah? I, uh… I survived, so I suppose that’s all that matters.”
 
Suddenly standing up, Jaina crosses her arms over her chest as she turns away from him, beginning to pace a bit. Vereesa stills, her eyes darting to Jaina and filled with worry as she seems to sense the Archmage’s mood shifting in ways Harry is honestly struggling to comprehend at the moment.
 
“Jaina… perhaps the other news can wait until lat-!”
 
“No! No, it cannot WAIT! He needs to know.”
 
Blinking, Harry doesn’t even get the chance to ask precisely what he ‘needs to know’ before Jaina whips around, gritting her teeth.
 
“The Burning Legion has returned.”
 
Harry blinks, taking a moment to process that. He’s… not exactly native to this world. He’s heard about the Burning Legion of course, but only in the context of history books. Through his research, he’s aware of what the Burning Legion was and how bad they could be. Hell, over on Draenor there’d been the risk of them showing up, from what Khadgar had said.
 
It hadn’t happened, of course. Not only had the Iron Horde rejected their Warlocks and thrown off the thoughts of turning to Fel, but they’d also been beaten before they could even consider crawling back to the likes of Gul’dan and Cho’gall. The orcs of the Alternate Draenor had been summarily taught a lesson that it would take them a long time to recover from. Meanwhile, Harry hadn’t given much thought to the Alternate Draenor’s would-be Shadow Council, mostly because… well, they’d been neutered so early on.
 
But now the Burning Legion was on Azeroth? How was that possible?
 
“Gul’dan, after failing his demonic masters so thoroughly on Draenor, was thought to be dead. His soul would have been forfeit, and with his inability to even rally the remnants of the Iron Horde and summon any true powers of the Burning Legion to his world, the common belief was that he had been taken to answer for his utter failure.”
 
Jaina closes her eyes, tears trickling down her cheeks as she collects herself for a moment before continuing.
 
“Instead, they managed to spit him out into our world, into Azeroth, with no one the wiser until AFTER he’d completed his most heinous work. The Tomb of Sargeras, hidden here in the long-forgotten Broken Isles, has been reopened. The Third Invasion has begun. The Burning Legion pours out of the Tomb unchecked and our attempt to stop them before they could establish a foothold failed massively.”
 
Here, Jaina suddenly looks downright incensed, her teeth gritting as Vereesa once again tries to cut her off.
 
“Jaina, perhaps-!”
 
“And it was all because of the filthy, traitorous, backstabbing HORDE!”
 
Vereesa flinches back, even as Harry blinks owlishly, his brow furrowing in surprise and confusion.
 
“I’m sorry, what? Please, take a few steps back and explain…”
 
And so Jaina does. She explains what happened, when the Tomb of Sargeras was reopened. While the Alliance and Horde were caught flat-footed, there was no denying that the two factions had never been more prepared for something like this. If the Tomb had been reopened during the days of Garrosh Hellscream, Azeroth would have been absolutely fucked.
 
However, because of the Alliance and Horde Rebels working together to dethrone Garrosh, and then continuing to work together in Draenor to put an end to Garrosh and his machinations once and for all, the two factions were at their best relations in… ever, truly.
 
Indeed, as Jaina and Vereesa both talk about the combined assault of both Alliance and Horde forces upon the Tomb of Sargeras, it sounds like things were actually rather hopeful. They had arrived with plenty of time left to stop the demon invasion before it could become a full-blown incursion. They had every opportunity to close the Tomb once more and keep the Burning Legion from truly invading their world.
 
Or so Jaina seemed to think. Harry was not blind to Vereesa’s recalcitrance on the matter. The Ranger-General of the Silver Covenant clearly didn’t agree with everything Jaina was saying. Indeed, it was Vereesa who spoke of the losses at the Broken Shore. How men like Tirion Fordring fell even with the Ashbringer, and how even an orc like Thrall had been pulled bleeding and broken from the battlefield after the Elements had deserted him.
 
The two stories that Harry was being told concurrently were somewhat contradictory in nature. Jaina wasn’t outright disagreeing with any of the bad news Vereesa was inserting into her retelling of events, but she was… she was somewhat brushing them off. The losses, the casualties… the Archmage acted like they were necessary evils to reach their goal.
 
Until things got to the end of the line and Jaina’s face turned positively apoplectic with rage.
 
“We were nearly there! We almost had it! We could have stopped this in its tracks, could have slain Gul’dan and closed the portal! Now… now we’re facing the largest invasion in our world’s history. Azeroth faces Extinction, all because those cowardly Horde dogs turned and fled with their tails tucked between their legs before we could reach the finish line!”
 
Recognizing that there are two stories being told here by this point, Harry looks to Vereesa… who grimaces and looks down at her hands, seeming entirely uncertain. But after a moment, she speaks.
 
“The Horde’s Warchief, Vol’jin… he was gravely injured in battle. According… according to Sylvanas, the battle was already nearly lost. To avoid all of Azeroth’s protectors falling, she ordered a retreat. The Horde did indeed flee, but only because there was no other choice.”
 
Jaina snarls at that, her hands clenching into fists.
 
“No other choice?! Your bias for your sister blinds you to the truth, Vereesa! Death is a fact of life! Sylvanas gave the order! Sylvanas forced the Horde to retreat! And for that, the Alliance has suffered greatly! The High King is DEAD! Varian Wrynn is GONE!”
 
And with that exclamation, things suddenly become a lot clearer. Jaina’s willingness to gloss over the other deaths and losses on the Broken Shore, forcing Vereesa to expound upon how bad the situation was getting, now made a lot more sense. If the end of this tail was that the Horde retreated and King Wrynn died for it… yes, Harry could see where Jaina’s anger and rage were coming from.
 
At the same time… it was hard for him to just accept that the Horde had betrayed them, that Sylvanas had betrayed them. Looking between Jaina and Vereesa, frowning most severely, Harry attempts to sit up again. This time, neither woman stops him as he pulls himself into a seated position, resting his back against the bed rest.
 
“What news of the Horde since? Have they not returned to the field of battle?”
 
Jaina sneers.
 
“They’ve elected the Banshee Queen as their new Warchief, because why not? Despite supposedly retreating to save their Warchief, Vol’jin died all the same. And in his place, Sylvanas Windrunner now reigns, giving true insight into their cowardice. Honorless curs, the lot of them!”
 
Blinking, Harry looks to Vereesa for confirmation, making the Ranger-General squirm a bit.
 
“Both the Horde and the Alliance took heavy losses at the Broken Shore. Both factions have lost entire armies to the demons at this point, and leadership from each have made it clear they must look to shoring up their own defenses now instead. There is no concentrated effort by either faction to take the fight to the demons at the moment. Instead… instead, we have turned to the Orders of Azeroth.”
 
Harry’s brow furrows again in confusion, causing Vereesa to expound upon what she means. Apparently, it’s these ‘Orders’ that have stepped up to the place. Organizations like the Order of the Silver Hand, or the Ebon Blade, or even the Earthen Rings. Orders based around certain thematic components, such as Paladins, Death Knights, Shamans. And those are just examples. Every single vocation on Azeroth, every single twist and turn that an adventure could take… apparently has its own Order.
 
As Vereesa is explaining this, as she’s elaborating on what the Orders are doing to secure footholds in the Broken Isles from which to launch attacks on the Broken Shore and the Tomb of Sargeras once more, something niggles at the back of Harry’s mind, until finally he realizes what’s bothering him.
 
“Wait… earlier, Jaina… you said ‘here’, earlier. The Tomb of Sargeras hidden… here.”
 
Blinking, Jaina and Vereesa exchange a glance for a moment before the Archmage nods.
 
“Oh right, of course. I… Dalaran has been moved, Harry. The city now floats above the Broken Isles. The Kirin Tor, like any other Class Order, is very invested in saving Azeroth. Unfortunately, they’re going about it the wrong way!”
 
Vereesa winces, even as Harry is once again caught off guard.
 
“Jaina… you lead the Kirin Tor. What do you mean, they’re going about it the wrong way?”
 
Incensed, gritting her teeth and crossing her arms over her chest, Jaina shakes her head.
 
“I resigned naught but a week ago. The Kirin Tor… they refuse to expel the Horde from Dalaran for their cowardice. They refuse to choose a side, when it’s obvious that the Horde betrayed us at the Broken Shore. I was preparing to leave the city… but then you arrived, and I’ve had to put off my departure for a little while longer. How could I go, when my apprentice needed my help?”
 
Despite her clear anger and grief, Jaina finds it in her to offer him a soft smile and even a hand on his shoulder as she explains. Harry squeezes that hand and smiles back at her to show he appreciates it. Indeed, it sounds like he got very lucky indeed. He might have expired right on the floor of Jaina’s study if he’d been even a little later without anyone to discover him once it was no longer Jaina’s study.
 
Seizing upon the tender moment, Vereesa stands up.
 
“Either way, you’re nowhere near recovered enough to do anything about the situation yet, Harry. In fact, it might be best if we leave you to your rest. We’ll have some food sent to you… but you need to stay in bed for the foreseeable future, okay?”
 
Jaina is nodding along in agreement, even as Harry is forced to grimace and internally admit that Vereesa is right. His mind might be going a mile a minute with everything he was just told, but that doesn’t mean he’s ready to hop up and start doing something about any of it, no sir. His body is still exhausted, completely drained of all energy. Recovery… recovery will take time. Time that Azeroth might not have, but from the sound of it, other Heroes are taking up the call, assuming the mantle. Harry… Harry can afford to rest. He needs to.
 
And so, he doesn’t fight it, even as Jaina and Vereesa leave the room and food soon floats in on an arcane table a little while later. He eats and he sleeps, and he slowly begins the road to recovery.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Unfortunately, he can’t sleep the entire time, and indeed, the more he recovers, the more Harry finds himself confined in bed with only his thoughts for company. Jaina and Vereesa are both supremely busy, with Jaina being the less busy of the two because of her resignation. Still, the Archmage’s sense of responsibility keeps her from just quitting and leaving a mess behind. Indeed, she tells him every single day about this incident or that mistake that she’s had to step in and correct as the other higher ups in the Kirin Tor take over her responsibilities.
 
It's an uneasy transition of power, but from the sound of it, a necessary one. Jaina’s latest prejudice against the Horde isn’t going away any time soon, nor is it capable of being directed towards one individual like Garrosh Hellscream. Oh sure, she certainly seems to outright hate Sylvanas with all her heart, but she also considers the Horde as a whole to be to blame for Varian’s death. Cowards, the lot of them, as she constantly tells him.
 
Still, even with their daily talks, Harry has a lot of time to himself to just think. And after what feels like years of adventuring through these strange lands, across entire worlds in fact, Harry… Harry has a lot of self-reflection to do. He’d been completely waylaid from his original quest upon falling onto Azeroth. That is… the quest to find a way home.
 
The women in his life had done a pretty good job of distracting him, and then it’d been one fucking disaster after another, hadn’t it? Even now, there was a literal world-ending event taking place right outside of Harry’s bedroom window. Azeroth was a beautiful and fascinating place… but also a hellish, horrifying world of death and misery and constant suffering.

And not the kind of Death that Harry had taken a fondness to either. Rather, the Burning Legion dealt in souls, meaning that their version of death was far, FAR from clean. They would completely and utterly destroy this world if they could, burning it to ash with fel flames, completely ending the cycle as everyone knew it.
 
Harry couldn’t allow that to happen… could he? Part of him, upon remembering his original home and the women he’d left behind, felt like he needed to re-focus his efforts on nothing but returning to Earth. He’s made a new family here on Azeroth and indeed on Draenor as well, but that doesn’t mean he should have forgotten his original family.
 
Not to mention… the betrayal he suffered that brought him here in the first place. One might say that Harry should thank the jilted wizards who conspired to throw him through the Veil. Their machinations had, after all, resulted in the past few years and Harry couldn’t necessarily bring himself to regret a single moment of any of it.
 
But he wasn’t the forgiving type. No, while he might have enjoyed his time on Azeroth and the connections that he’d made with several of its denizens, he still needed to get home, both to rejoin his lovers… and to take his revenge.
 
And yet, once again Harry was afflicted by his ‘Saving People Thing’ as it had been termed all the way back in his Hogwarts Years. Just… abandoning Azeroth to the Burning Legion didn’t feel like the right thing to do. Even if he did believe that these Orders popping up and taking the reins could handle the invasion without him, Harry would always wonder if his presence, if his assistance, might have resulted in less casualties.
 
He would always wonder if he could have done something that no one else could have done, or would have thought of, to make the defeat of the Burning Legion swifter or cleaner by even a fraction of an inch.
 
In the end, he was who he was. He was Harry James Potter. Boy-Who-Lived. Man-Who-Won. A philander of legendary proportions, a truly spectacular lover if he did say so himself… and the Savior. Whether it was the Wizarding World he was saving, or this one… Harry couldn’t walk away. But that didn’t mean he was just going to let himself forget again.
 
All that was left… was to tell the most important women in his life.
 
-x-X-x-
 
“… You’re just going to leave?! Just like that?!”
 
Wincing at Jaina’s raised voice, Harry tries to placate the distraught Archmage.
 
“Not any time soon! Like I said, I’m not about to abandon the innocent people of Azeroth to a demon invasion. But… this isn’t my home, and its far past time I remembered that. After we defeat the Legion… IF we defeat the Legion, I’m going to be putting all of my effort in getting back to my home planet.”
 
Vereesa nods along as if she understands, though she clearly looks sad about it. However, as soon as Jaina notices Vereesa’s nodding, she stiffens up, bristling even more intensely.
 
“Vereesa… please leave Harry and I alone to talk privately.”
 
“Wha- But I-!”
 
“Out!”
 
Looking disappointed (having clearly been hoping to have some fun now that Harry was finally recovered enough for it) Vereesa throws him one last wishful look before exiting the room. Harry, meanwhile, raises an eyebrow at Jaina as the woman watches Vereesa go… and then turns towards him, dispelling her clothes without a second thought, sending them into some pocket dimension that leaves her completely naked.
 
A moment later and she’s crawling up onto the bed, pulling back the covers and reaching down between his legs as her breasts dangle enticingly, just as juicy and pert and perky as ever.
 
“… I would like you to reconsider, Harry.”
 
Wrapping her tits around his cock in a clear attempt to get his thoughts on sex, Jaina licks her lips, looking up at him with big, soulful eyes.
 
“I need you here, with me… Azeroth needs you.”
 
Something akin to regret worms its way up through Harry’s chest. It’s not like he WANTS to leave Jaina or any of his other lovers on Azeroth behind. He’d been somewhat happy to get away from the women he’d fucked on Draenor, if only because Yrel was getting to be a bit too much. But Jaina, Vereesa, Sylvanas… and a handful of others, they all held a space place in his heart.
 
“Jaina, it’s not any time soon. And fuck, who’s to say if we’ll even succeed at stopping the Burning Legion. Might be a complete non-starter if we all die trying to save Azeroth.”
 
Scowling, Jaina quickens her pace, drooling some saliva down onto his cock and letting it pool betwixt her breasts, making the passage of her gorgeous fat tits up and down his humungous bitch breaker even more pleasurable for him. She’s really pulling out all the stops, even as she moves harder and faster. There’s a certain degree of anger between them right now, making the experience almost akin to hate-sex, though not quite there yet.
 
“Don’t be ridiculous. Since I’ve come to know you, there hasn’t been a single goal you’ve set your mind to that you haven’t accomplished. If you’re going to try and save it, I know that Azeroth is in good hands. But afterwards… we’ll still need you. We’ll still need your help! You can’t just leave!”
 
Appreciating the compliment, as well as the titjob he’s receiving, Harry nevertheless has to offer Jaina nothing more than a sympathetic, apologetic smile.
 
“I’m sorry, Jaina… but you know I can’t stay. Azeroth is a place of wondrous magic and unfathomable possibilities. I could spend the rest of my life here exploring all there was to explore, fighting evil wherever there was evil to fight, and saving the day again and again alongside my peers such as yourself.”
 
“Then why DON’T you?!”
 
Smiling sadly, Harry reaches out and runs his fingers through Jaina’s hair, brushing his palm against her cheek.
 
“Because it would be a betrayal of others who need me. Those that I left behind on my own world… it was wrong of me to forget about them. Sure, I got caught up in other things… sure, I ran into some roadblocks early on that stymied my progress until it just became easier to ignore the situation and fall into a new status quo here on Azeroth… but just because the path I’ve been on was easy, doesn’t mean it was the right one.”
 
Licking her lips, looking hopeful, Jaina leans forward, continuing to glide her tits up and down his shaft.
 
“W-What if it was though? What if the path you’re on can be both easy AND right? You don’t HAVE to find the path of greatest resistance! You can be happy with me, with Vereesa! We can make you happy!”
 
A desperate tinge enters her voice, and before Harry can even begin formulating his response to such heartfelt words, Jaina suddenly pulls herself away from his cock, only to sidle up his body… and swing around, turning away from him as she slides her ass up to his full mast member, hot-dogging his cock right then and there between her spectacular bubble butt cheeks.
 
“You don’t need to leave, Harry. I’ll show you otherwise!”
 
And with that, the Archmage, beautiful and gorgeous and until this moment fully unwilling to let him do much more than barely penetrate her back door with his cockhead, reaches back and spreads her ass cheeks wide while raising up her hips. His dick tip, thick and throbbing and pulsating, fixes against her sphincter as her asshole gapes ever so slightly.
 
Pausing briefly, one of Jaina’s index fingers points at her anus and the Archmage lets out a girlish little squeal as she casts a spell that both cleans her out and lubes her up for him at the same time. Then, without further ado… Lady Jaina Proudmoore drops down onto his cock, taking him in her pristine, perfect ass for the first time in their years-long relationship.
 
Harry has experienced plenty of anal sex in his life, on all the worlds he’s been to. But there’s no denying that Jaina has been ‘the one who got away’ when it comes to this untouched last of her orifices. No longer. As she slides down his length, shuddering and whimpering, Harry can only stare at her in wonder. Frankly, Jaina has never looked more beautiful than in this moment, with her face honestly contorted in feeling as she tries to adjust to his cock.
 
Reaching out and grabbing her by the hips, digging his fingers into her plush flesh, Harry lets out a small, disbelieving laugh as he holds her steady, his cock firmly buried in her bowels.
 
“What, is this your first time experiencing anal sex? Surely the great Lady Proudmoore couldn’t possibly be an anal virgin.”
 
Blushing profusely, refusing to look him in the eye, Jaina whimpers.
 
“S-Shut up. Just… j-just give me a second…”
 
Harry considers that for a moment… before smirking and thrusting up into Jaina from below. It’s a powerful thrust, and it draws the cutest, most adorable squeal from Jaina’s lips as she bounces on his dick, her anus tightening and squeezing down HARD and her pussy squirting a little bit from the sudden sensation.
 
“B-Bastard~”
 
Even as she calls him names, there’s a wavering moan in her voice, the slightest tremble giving her away. Harry… keeps on thrusting and Jaina pants and mewls and moans as she slowly gets used to having a cock in her ass. To her credit, she’s not fully on the back foot for long. This is Lady Jaina Proudmoore after all, an Archmage. He, meanwhile, is only her ‘mere Apprentice’.
 
Soon, Jaina is reaching forward and grabbing hold of his legs. Soon, she’s raising herself up and MEETING her thrusts as her fat booty bounces in his face, riding his dick with a certain amount of her own fervor. She’s intense about it in a way that feels like something more than Harry is used to. Maybe it’s the fact that he spent six months having sex with the Life-Binder, but Jaina… Jaina seems a little different this time around.
 
Teasing aside, however, Harry refuses to forget what they were originally talking about. They were able to keep chatting while she was bouncing her tits up and down his cock length, he doesn’t see why they can’t continue talking while she’s doing the same with her ass.
 
“Jaina… you were wrong, what you said before…”
 
“Nnngh… w-what? What are you talking about?”
 
Unlike Harry, Jaina has definitely lost the thread of the conversation they were having previously. Breathless and panting and mewling, she’s clearly lost in the throes of anal ecstasy… or rather, at least pretending to be. But Harry refuses to let her distract him. As gorgeous as her body is, he’s gotta keep his eye on the prize.
 
“You said… you said that since you’ve met me, there hasn’t been a single goal I haven’t achieved. But… that isn’t true. Because I’ve not made any progress at all in getting home. I haven’t made it back to the people waiting for me on my previous world… in that, I’ve failed my goal entirely.”
 
For a moment, Jaina is frozen atop his cock… then, letting out a truly incensed growl of frustration, she lifts herself up, coming halfway off of his dick but not completely as she abruptly swivels herself around so she’s facing him. Depositing herself back down onto his dick, bouncing her ass up and down on his massive member, the Archmage glares at him angrily, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she grabs at his chest, clawing at it almost.
 
“Are you STILL on about that?! Fuck them, Harry! Live in the present, with me! If they truly loved you, they would have found you by now themselves! If they had cared for you like I cared for you, they would have come for you years ago! Face it, they think you’re dead! So, stay dead! Stay with ME!”
 
Eyes wide, feeling Jaina’s raw passion mixed with her grief and desperation, Harry can do nothing but hold onto her as she rides him in an almost feverish panic, as if fucking herself harder on his cock will somehow convince him to drop his revitalized goal of returning to his old world. With a jolt, Harry’s brow furrows and he begins to frown.
 
Even as Jaina continues to try and ride him, Harry reaches out and grabs her by the hips, not to steady her so he can fuck her from below himself or anything like that, but to hold her still.
 
“How… how can we possibly know they haven’t? I’m sure they’ve been trying… I’m sure they haven’t stopped looking for me… so how can you possibly say they haven’t been?”
 
Jaina freezes up for a moment once more, and that… this time it gives the game away, even as she tries to cover it up a moment later with a tremble in her voice and a shaky tone.
 
“J-Just… conjecture. We s-surely would have heard if they had. W-We would know by now if they’d even gotten close, r-right?”
 
Suspicious now and hating himself for it but nevertheless forced to act on his sudden paranoia, Harry grips Jaina all the harder by her hips, leveraging more of his strength than he ever has before to hold her in place even as she tries to restart their vigorous sexual activities.
 
“H-Harry… you’re hurting me!”
 
“Jaina… don’t lie to me… tell me what’s going on. What are you keeping from me?”
 
For a moment, they stare into each other’s eyes, Harry’s grip getting rougher and harsher by the moment until finally, with a sharp cry, Jaina full-on blinks out of his grasp, popping off of his cock and off to the side. As she stumbles, Harry rises from the bed for the first time since he’d made it back and begun recovering. His cock, still rock hard and swinging between his legs, is for once, not important to the young man as he stares Jaina down.
 
Jaina, who has been there with him practically every step of the way. Jaina, who has been his rock in this new strange world. The first person he met after being flung through the Veil. The first woman he’d bedded on all of Azeroth. Jaina… who is now staring at him, white as a sheet. And then her ghost-like complexion clears up and she just looks angry as she stomps over towards him, a snarl on his lips.
 
“F-Fine… FINE! I know they’re not looking because I’ve been keeping an eye out! And I’ve been keeping an eye out… in order to stop them from coming here, even if they did somehow find Azeroth in the first place!”
 
Rocked back on his heels, Harry’s mouth opens and closes, but no words come out, allowing Jaina room to continue her impromptu tirade.
 
“I couldn’t just let you go! I needed you, Harry! I STILL need you! Azeroth needs you! Without your help, without your… without you, where would we be?! So yes, I sabotaged your efforts to return from whence you came! Azeroth is your home now! I and Vereesa are your home! We were enough, weren’t we?! We could be enough?!”
 
Suddenly looking a strange mixture of apologetic and needy, Jaina lunges forward, taking Harry’s hands in his own, looking him in the eye with tears streaming once more down her face and a hopeful gaze.
 
“P-Please… just tell me we could be enough for you. That I could be enough for you. Please, Harry!”
 
It’s obvious she needs the affirmation in the moment. She needs him to pull her back from whatever precipice she’s been teetering on since the Broken Shore, since she resigned from the Kirin Tor. She needs him to need her, needs him to tell her that he won’t go, that it will be alright, that he’ll be by her side.
 
But Harry can’t be what Jaina needs in this moment. Especially not now, not after learning of the depth of her betrayal. Frankly, he doesn’t know what to say to her… and in that silence, Jaina takes his lack of words, perhaps rightfully so, as condemnation.
 
The hope dies in Lady Proudmoore’s eyes, and she lets go of his hands as if burned, rearing back as if struck.
 
“… I… I see.”
 
Part of Harry longs to stop her, to hold her in his arms and forgive her. But part of him is too angry in the moment to do any of those things. And still a third part is going over every interaction he had with her since arriving in this world, finding all of the little moments where she distracted him from researching a way to get back home and he hadn’t even recognized what she was doing, until ultimately, he’d stopped his research altogether.
 
In a flash of her magic, Jaina summons her staff to her side and a beat later, teleports away. Winds kick up for a moment as the arcane power of her abrupt departure pulses through the room, before ultimately everything settles, and silence falls over the space. Left alone, Harry can only stare at the place Jaina occupied, completely drained of emotional energy. It’s just too much… all of it is just too fucking much.
 
… But he won’t give up. Even if Jaina is gone, even if they never see each other again, Harry has his goals. He has his purpose. The Legion must be stopped, and a pathway home MUST be found. That… that probably starts with him figuring out what the fuck is going on with the Horde and Alliance. While the Class Orders doing their own thing is sure to be helpful, if the Horde and Alliance can’t get their acts together to support the heroes of those Orders, then all might be for naught.
 
There was a boy in charge of the Alliance now, a young man by the name of Anduin Wrynn. He’d been just a child while Garrosh reigned, Harry remembered. He was practically still just a child now.
 
However, on the Horde’s side of things… the new Warchief was someone Harry knew quite well. For the sake of Jaina’s feelings, he might not have even considered reaching out to Sylvanas after everything that had purportedly happened at the Broken Shore… but in this moment, Harry could admit that he didn’t care much at all for Jaina’s feelings.
 
Sylvanas, as the Horde’s new Warchief, was the woman to approach about getting shit fixed from what Harry could see. So, it was Sylvanas Windrunner that he would approach.
 
The Burning Legion would regret invading Azeroth a third time while Harry was one of its protectors, this he swore. With every fiber of his being, he would work to send the demons back to the hells from which they’d spawned. One at a time, if need be, with his bare hands if need be.
 
But first… Sylvanas.

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