Elder Scroll series, Harry Potter 1. Prologue

**Author notes**: Here is another idea I just couldn't get out of my head so hopefully by posting it, it will leave me alone so that I can continue my other stories.

**Paring: **Harry/Faissa

**When: **Post book 6 - 4E 201

**Summary: **Dragons? Why is everyone making such a big fuss over mere dragons? Wait did that dragon just talk? And what the hell is a Dovahkiin? Maybe he shouldn't have picked up that portkey like scroll it seems he arrived at rather strange place again due to magical travel.

**Warnings: **Slightly OOC!Harry, somewhat cynical!Harry, no slash, character death(s), minor changes in the established pre-book 7 Harry Potter canon

Also I have only played Oblivion and Skyrim I also looked up a lot of information on the wikis, but the Elder scrolls lore is very extensive so I might have made some mistakes.

This is also my first crossover so if any of you readers has any tips after reading a chapter be sure to review or to PM it to me.

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**Prologue **

With a loud 'thud' the head of a seventeen year old young man connected with the book that laid open on the table the aforementioned young was sitting at. The male who went by the name of Harry James Potter was not a happy person. In fact that was probably an understatement, but seriously could anyone blame him?

He was alone in the house formerly belonging to his late godfather surrounded by books, books, and more books.

One may wonder how this very unlikely scenario came to be. The answer to that was actually not all that complicated. As agreed upon at the end of his last school year his two best friends; Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had joined him at the house belonging to his aunt and uncle so that they could prepare themselves for the hunt of Voldemort's soul anchors, items more commonly known as Horcruxes.

They were going to stay there until his seventeenth birthday; the day he was considered an adult in the magical world. Those days were mostly spending discussing and researching possible Horcruxes and where they could be hidden.

But that was not all they had been discussing; Hermione albeit very reluctantly brought up the topic of the prophecy; the prophecy which more or less stated that Harry would be the one to beat Voldemort with some kind of power that Voldemort does not process.

Albus Dumbledore, the late Headmaster of Hogwarts had told Harry he thought that love was the power he knows not, but Hermione was not completely convinced her former headmaster was right and although she didn't put much stock in prophecies the stakes were just too high to completely ignore something that might end up being something so important.

Unfortunately while she could not see love being the power he knows not she hadn't the faintest idea what could be. So besides the earlier research regarding the soul anchors they also spend the days scouring through all the books Hermione had brought with her looking for something Voldemort might not now … suffice it to say it was like looking for a needle in a haystack and considering they didn't even know what the needle looked like …. yeah not the most useful use of their time.

So days passed and with each day their moods became sourer and sourer as no useful information was found. Ron someone who had even less love for books than Harry soon started to complain something which definitely did not help the mood.

Still they managed to make it to the week before his birthday with _only _a two dozen shouting matches between Hermione and Ron, a broken nose, and the need to store the wands away before any of them did something that they would regret.

Unfortunately things only got worse when Harry got a letter from one of his contacts in the Order of the Phoenix; Fleur Delacour. Harry had kept up a correspondence with his fellow former fellow tri-wizard champion ever since the tournament had ended and she was probably one of the few who didn't see him as a little kid … well Sirius may also be one of them, but considering how often he seems to mistake him for his father it was hard to say just how much damaged those Dementors had done.

The letter password protected and written in French (Merlin that had been a pain to learn, but it was rather amusing whenever Ron tried to read it over his shoulder) spoke of what the order was planning regarding his 'extraction' from private drive. Just reading about it was enough to induce a headache; had those people ever head of unnecessary complicated?

To be honest Harry was wondering why those people where even coming up with a plan at all. He would be an adult then there would be no reason for them to dictate his life.

After another quick discussion it was decided they would leave early; trace be damned Harry just had to withhold using magic until it was his birthday. Unfortunately they could no leave just yet as they first had to decide where to go.

They had some hints for the Horcruxes, but nothing concrete. They would have to investigate those places personally before they could say if there was a Horcrux there or not. Harry for one was all for that; finally getting out of the house and actually doing something definitely sounded more appealing to him then continuing what he had been doing for the last few weeks.

That plan however was quickly torpedoed by Hermione who pointed out that they still had no idea what the power he knows not was. So with the separate objectives ahead she suggested they split up; she and Ron would hunt the Horcrux while Harry would search for the power of the prophecy.

Harry upon hearing this quickly pointed out that they already went through the trio's collective books and with Voldemort in power he could hardly go to Flourish and Blotts. At this Hermione reminded Harry that he had inherited an entire library from his godfather. She also reminded him that she had read up upon the Fidelius charm and that she should be able to reapply it as long as she had the consent of the owner.

Of course Harry then asked the question what seemed logical to him and that was why she and Ron didn't also come to live at Grimmauld Place even if they had separate tasks there was no reason for them to live apart.

Hermione had admitted she hadn't the faintest idea to the true extent of magical tracking by the ministry so for all they knew they could track apparition and portkey travel. To be absolute safe they had to keep the use of magic to the bare minimum; so no magical travel. Due to this it was just not doable to stay in a single place. Not giving up Harry said that they could always shrink the library down and put it in her bag.

The look in her eyes she had back then was something Harry had never seen before in them. He had got through a lot alongside her and had seen a lot of different facial expressions, but the look of absolute resolve he had seen back then was something he had never before. If that had been shocking then it didn't even compare to what she said next.

It was said in an extremely low voice so only he heard it (and there was a distinct possibility he wasn't even supposed to hear it). ''If the prophecy is really true then Ron and I are expendable you are not.''

Harry wanted to protest, but the look she gave him made him swallow the words that were about to come out of his mouth. Something had changed with his best female friend he wasn't sure what it was, but ever since she arrived Harry could tell something big had happened and nothing he would say would change her mind.

So here he was at Grimmauld Place … alone … surrounded by books … Merlin he almost start to feel sorry for Kreacher. Harry sighed as he leaned back in the chair. Months had passed since he started living here. Hermione and Ron had dropped by twice both times to tell him about some lead they found, but so far as far he knew they hadn't found anything.

He himself hadn't been exactly idle either. While he wasn't exactly fond of studying he now under the protection of the Fidelius charm could practice as much magic as he wanted and being alone and as such not having much else to do other than study for months resulted in him having a drastic increase in his spell arsenal.

Among those new spells Harry had also started to dabble in the dark arts; something which the Black library was rather full of. At first he done so to prepare himself against what his enemies would wield, but when he fired his first dark art spell something changed. He wasn't sure what it was he felt when he had fired that first spell, it felt wrong, but at same time it felt so enticing that he immediately wanted to fire another spell … was that what people called the allure of the dark arts?

Of course no one (except for maybe Hermione) could study the entire day so he also spends a couple of hours each doing other things. He of course had to cook each using the magical preserved and shrunken food that had been stashed in the house when he first had started living there.

He had also spent each day doing some physical training. It was nothing grand; he was a wizard first and foremost and physical strength would help him little if his enemies usually were too far away for him to use it. No it was more something along the lines of burning of excessive energy than really training. Still a small part of his was rather satisfied with how far he has come in comparison to his first attempt at push-ups … a rather pathetic attempt which left his arms shaking like mad after doing only twenty of them.

Recently he had also brewed a Animagus form revelation potion. A potion which if the book was to be believed would show him the animal he could transform into in a series of dreams. So far he had only dreamt of vague outlines of what he believed were wings. Harry was actually quite happy with that as he loved flying and while he hadn't the faintest idea what animal it was as he could barely even make out the wings the fact that it had wings had been enough to lift his mood slightly.

What didn't lift his mood however was what he did in the rest of his spare time. Well to be more exact it was the time he spend doing nothing. Those times when his mind wasn't preoccupied it started to wander.

His mind usually drifted to events of the past and due to already not being in the greatest of moods due to his isolation the memories that sprang forth usually weren't that great either.

Memories from his childhood at the Dursleys, attending primary school where the teachers were blind or just didn't act at seeing Dudley bully him and his classmates, the people of Private Drive who believe his aunt gossip regarding him even though it should have blatantly obvious who the real criminal of the two cousins was.

Memories of his time as a wizard; the gawking, the discrimination, the sheep mentality, the many near death experiences and the fact that no matter what happened in the end it usually came down to him and his friends to solve it. That was not even mentioning that the adults usually treated him like a child even though he had gone through so much more than most of them combined.

He thought back to his **ex-**girlfriend who apparently thought he was only happy if he went after Voldemort. He thought back to his former mentor who had admitted that he had known how the Dursleys would treat him when he had left him there as a baby.

Merlin it was a small miracle he was still willing to get up each morning and study to defeat Voldemort. To be honest he held little love for either Muggles or Magicals and while his rational mind knew not all of them were probably as bad as his memories portrayed the more emotional part of his found it hard to believe. The only reasons he could come up with why he still wanted to kill that bastard was because he was the murderer of his parents and the indirect killer of his godfather, a man who while not exactly sane Harry still had been somewhat close to.

He also did it for the few people he actually did care for; Ron and Hermione; his two best friends since first year. They had their ups and a lot of downs, but at the end they were still his first two real friends who even know were risking their lives attempting to destroy the Horcruxes, then there was Fleur; he wasn't as close to her as he had been with the before mentioned duo, but he still considered her close friend who deserved to live her life in peace especially after what she did for him during his fifth year. Then there was the rest of the Weasley family; honestly Harry a bit of mixed feeling about them; Mrs Weasley, Ginny, Percy all of them had some personality traits that annoyed him, but at the same time even though they were as poor as one can get they still took him in and had treated him like family; something he had craved for as long he could remember. So yes despite their flaws he really hoped that family would live to see the end of the war intact.

Of course there were a couple of other people Harry wanted to see to live the end of the war such as Neville and Luna who had helped him at the DoM, some of the former DA members and of course his former teammates of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Harry sighed and straightened up again, relaxation time was over and it was time for him to go through the next book of the large stack that was next to him. What he picked up from the top however was not a book no it was a scroll of some kind. Now this was not the first scroll he had encountered in the library so it was really not that surprising, but what was surprising was how the scroll looked and felt; firstly he was pretty sure that what he was holding was not parchment, the scroll was also a lot more ornate than the normal rolled up pieces of parchment he had read through earlier. There was also something strange about the scroll he was holding it was emitting some kind of power. It was akin to magic, but it was definitely different.

This definitely exited the seventeen year old wizard. Some kind of (supernatural) power that was not magic could he finally have found some hints as to what the power he knows not is?

His excitement however quickly died down when he opened the scroll and he had not the faintest idea what he was looking at. They weren't runes of that he was pretty sure, but what the hell could those thing mean and more importantly could they be helpful in his fight against Voldemort?

Any rational thought however was suddenly cut off when Harry felt a blinding pain in his eyes. That pain was the last thing Harry knew before he suddenly lost consciousness.

Harry was awoken a unknown amount of time later when a smell filled his nose that almost made him retch. It was a smell that he had only smelled once before; it was the same stench of burned flesh he had smelled after the first task of the Tri-wizard tournament only this time it smelled much worse.

The next sensation that filled Harry's still somewhat dazed mind was cold gust of wind that made it painfully clear he was no longer inside.

A groan of discontent came from him as soon as his other senses started to filter in information to his brain. He was lying in the mud … he was lying outside in the mud … he was lying outside in the mud while the stench of burned flesh filled his nose … what the hell had happened?

After slowly raising his head he didn't spot anyone nearby so he quickly stood up and pulled his wand from his pocket … or at least that was the plan. Instead of actually pulling his wand he had frozen up in shock when he had taken a closer look on his surroundings. Not only was the village he was in clearly destroyed by something or someone, but it also looked like it came straight from one of his primary school's history books.

''Where in the name of Merlin did I end up this time?'' Harry muttered after several moment of being in complete shock.


	2. Wolves and a dragon

**Chapter one: wolves and a dragon**

If one thing could be said about Harry Potter then that was that he and magical travel did not mix well. The first time he had accidentally used apparition (or at least he assumed that it was apparition) he had been severely punished by his 'loving family' after his school had informed them of him being on the roof of the school building. His first use of the Floo network landed him straight in Knockturn ally; it was a small miracle no one had recognised him there if they had well … it was probably best not to think what they would have done to his defenceless twelve year old self. Then there were portkeys; his first use of it wasn't actually all that bad, sure he ended up falling immediately after arriving, but relatively speaking that was actually not that bad. Especially not considering his second trip with that damn type of transportation led him to a graveyard where he was a witness to Voldemort being resurrected and his third trip being him escaping said graveyard with the body of his dead schoolmate while being chased by Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

So no it would be not too big of a stretch to say that he just did not mix well with magical transportation. Sure he loved to fly and for that he needed a broom, but objectively speaking flying on a broom resulted in almost as much near death experiences as facing off against Voldemort.

As he tried to wipe the mud of his drenched t-shirt Harry could also definitely say that he was not enjoying the experience that followed this new form of travelling … well at least this time there weren't any Death Eaters … for that matter it seems no person was here … or at least no alive person.

Harry grimaced as she spotted the charred remains of what was once without a doubt a human. It was probably somewhat worrying that he had no stronger reaction than that at seeing what was no doubt the source of the smell that had been penetrating his nostrils, but that little nugget of information wasn't even on his mind right now. It was clear to him that this city, town whatever it was had been attacked by something or someone and even if it was gone now it could always come back so it was probably time to go. The only problem was he had no idea as to where to go. The simplest solution of course was to use apparition to go home, but unfortunately it wouldn't be that easy.

The instructors during apparition classes had been very clear. The further you go the more magic the trip consumes and if you try to go further than your core can handle then you will be very lucky if nothing happens and you stay in place. If something does happen then you will probably end up splinching in the worst possible way and as he has no way of knowing where he was and by extension how far from London he is it was probably a very bad idea to attempt to try and use apparition to go home.

So the only real thing he could do for now was finding out where the bloody hell he was and while he was at it find out what could have transported him straight through some of the most powerful wards out there.

It was then just as he was about to leave to investigate his surroundings that he noticed something that should be very much impossible … and considering he had started to use that term very loosely ever since joining the magical world that was saying something. He may only have gotten an acceptable on his Astronomy O.W.L. exam, but he was certain the earth had only one moon not the two he was seeing right now and he was also certain they shouldn't look that close by regardless of where he was on earth.

He stared at the sky that pretty much defied everything he knew of Astronomy for a moment longer before he decided to avert his gaze and returned his attention back to his surroundings. For his own sanity it was probably best to ignore that impossibility for now.

So back to finding out where he is then. His surroundings were clearly devoid of life so he should probably find some other settlement nearby or something. He might find something useful in the remains of the town, but he had to admit the stench was really starting to get to him. Besides if he couldn't find anything else he could always return here.

Looking around for a moment he found what he assumed was the exit to this place; a surprisingly undamaged wooden gate. Holding his wand at the ready Harry moved toward it and stopped in front of the gate. He placed his free hand on the gate and took a deep breath. He wasn't sure why but he had the feeling the moment he pushed that gate open it would be the start of something completely new … something big.

He then took one last deep breath and then after making sure he still held a firm grip on the wand in his right hand he moved his left hand forward opening the gate … that was the plan at least, but instead of the gate opening Harry heard the tell-tale sound of a closed lock … yeah that was slightly anticlimactic.

A quick non-verbal unlocking spell later and Harry tried again. This time the gate actually opened and despite his current situation Harry could not deny the awe he felt as he saw the sight in front of him.

To put it mildly it was beautiful; while they weren't druids most wizards and witches held far more respect for nature than the Muggles did and what Harry saw before him was definitely something that he could appreciate.

Harry was honestly not sure what it was that appealed magicals so to nature. He knew that most wards did not use the internal magic of the caster, but the magic from around them. What that magic was Harry had no idea, but he suspected it had something to do with nature, especially considering what he had heard about how druids do their magic.

From the looks of it the village he had just exited was on the top of some kind of hill and in front of him was a badly paved path that lead down the hill, surrounding him on both sides were large threes filled with green leaves, but even if those trees were large they paled in comparison to the mountain Harry saw in the distance.

Now Harry had seen mountains before, Hogwarts after all stood in a mountainous area of Scotland, but those things seem to pale in comparison to the one which had grabbed his full attention.

His thoughts were suddenly brought back to the present by a sound that sound very familiar to something he had heard at the end of his third year … a sound that had utterly terrified him at the time, but in hindsight in comparison to the other things he had faced in his life it really had been that scary.

So with that in mind instead of panicking he just gripped his wand more tightly and scanned the area around for any threat. It didn't take him long for him to find the source of the sound. With a strange feeling of disappointment he saw it wasn't a werewolf at all, but merely what he guessed was a normal wolf.

The wolf however was acting rather strange. He would hardly call himself an expert regarding non-magical animals, but he was pretty sure the way the wolf seemed conflicted between attacking and running away was not normal behaviour. Oh well it really did not matter it was not like the wolf could point him in the right direction so he decided to make the decision for the wolf before it decided to actually attack him; with speed honed by countless hours practicing on animated targets he took aim and fired a stunning spell. The sight of the spell coming toward him seemed to have finally snapped it out of it indecision and it appeared ready to attack, but it was much too late and moments later the spell impacted and the wolf crumpled down to the ground.

Again Harry felt a strange feeling of disappointment as soon as the 'battle' was over. It was weird he had never felt like this before; was it due to him finally getting some actions after being forced to remain indoors for so long?

After several moments of trying to reflect on where those feelings came from and not finding anything, Harry decided to just let it be for now and move on.

Ten minutes later however Harry no longer felt any disappointment; no the only thing he was feeling right was annoyance. The reason for that could be seen both behind him and in front of him. Behind him seemingly in some kind of weird parody of that Muggle fairitale of dropping breadcrumbs laid a trail of stunned wolves. In front of him growling and looking like he wanted to pounce on him was yet another one of those annoying beasts .Seriously he couldn't even take a step and one of those things came running at him. It was really getting ridiculous. At this rate it would take hours before he was at the bottom of the slope and even if he was there he couldn't see any humans even remotely in the vicinity … time for plan B it seems.

Almost absentmindedly stunning the wolf in front of him Harry started to visualise the mountain top that he had seen after exiting the village. When he was sure he wouldn't splinch himself he apparited away. His last thoughts before he left with a slight crack were that he was forgetting something very important.

When he reappeared atop of the mountain Harry could conclude several things. One the view was amazing, and two it is not a good idea to forget things you learn in muggle school no matter how useless it may seem.

If he had then he probably would have known how utterly bad idea it had been to move from a relatively low point to the top of a mountain. Merlin it was so cold up there that not even his heating charms he had applied shortly after the exiting the village seems to work and it was getting harder and harder to breath. He knew he needed to get away from here or he would be in some serious problems.

He tried to visualise the image off the village where he had arrived in, but it was getting more and more difficult as he started to feel lightheaded. Knowing it would most likely not end well if he were to use apportion with such a weak visualisation Harry decided to forgo trying to visualise something from memory and instead went for the easier option. As he looked straight ahead he saw a stone tower in the distance. It was something that should be easy to visualise especially while he was looking at it. He thought he could spot some people walking around, but it was way too far away to be certain and he really had no other choice. For apparition you image has to be specific and the surrounding lands around the tower looked way to similar to take the risk in his current state.

So with that in mind he concentrated and with a significant louder crack he disappeared. Moment later he reappeared atop the tower he had seen … well to be more precise he arrived a good meter above the tower, but hey at least he was in one piece and gravity assured he landed on the tower.

Harry groaned as he not so gracefully landed on his two feet. He still felt like a popsicle, but fortunately his warming charm now had an easier time warming him up and in response it became somewhat easier for him to breath. Still he would really not say no to a little bit of extra heat right now.

It was not until a while later that he realised that he was Harry Potter and Fate really seem to hate him so he probably should not have thought that. He did not think that however as his mind was oddly blank. His brain did not register the familiar stench of burned flesh, nor did it hear the distinctively English sounding voices below, but what he did he hear however was a roar the likes that would have filled him with terror only months before, but now? Now he felt a strange sense of excitement, a desire to fight, a desire to prove he was stronger than whatever had roared liked that.

It was strangely similar to his earlier feelings of disappointment. He could not place where those feelings suddenly came from, but he couldn't find it in himself to care as he saw the source of the roar come flying.

It was a dragon, a real life seemingly wild dragon … and he felt exited at seeing it. Merlin even in his current state Harry realised that was probably not normal, but right now he just did not care.

As the beast approached Harry noticed it was surprisingly small … well relatively small at least. Compared to the Horntail he faced back in his fourth year this dragon just didn't seem that threatening, that however did not mean it was not dangerous and the dragon proved that.

Within moments the dragon had moved from just the edge of his vision to close enough that Harry could make out every single little detail about it and then it opened its mouth … for a moments Harry could clearly see a row of teeth each sharp enough to seriously maim if not kill a grown man and then it came; the dragon's most feared weapon.

Moving more on instincts than anything else Harry saw the build-up of fire in the winged lizard's throat and quickly made a downward slashing movement followed up by a thrust in the direction of the dragon while exclaiming, ''Protego Ignes!''

A transparent shield of red coloured magic erupted from his wand and formed a rough half dome in front of him. Moments later the fire impacted on his shield and Harry was surprised how little his core was drained by keeping the shield up. Dragon's fire was no mere fire; it like the dragon's themselves was truly magical and as such much more powerful than regular fire. Some say the fire of stronger dragons has power on the same scale of Fiendfyre; cursed fire said to consume all on its path.

Whether the fire he had been hit with was magical or not Harry did not know, but he did know that it was far weaker than he had originally expected. Of course this assessment of the skills of his opponent did not stop him from diving the hell out of the way when the tail of the dragon nearly hit him as it flew past him.

Muttering a curse under his breath at his rather ungraceful dive to the ground, Harry quickly rose up again, wand ready to face and take down the overgrown lizard … only it wasn't there. It was then that Harry realised he wasn't the only human there. Some part of his mind already knew there were others; he had heard them after all, but his mind had been a little bit distracted by the dragon, but he could clearly see them now. How could he not; they seem to have become the new target of the dragon.

Upon closer inspection Harry noticed something strange about the witches and wizards down there (because really what else could there be fighting a dragon?) they were wearing medieval amour and instead of wands they seem to be fighting with swords, axes and bow and arrows. He knew the British magical community was a bit behind the times, but wherever he landed it seems the magical community was even more backwards than his home country was or perhaps this was just how they fought here? He knew not all the countries used wands and Latin incantations for their magic; perhaps it was the same here? Maybe those weapons they wielded were enchanted, those amours they wore charmed to protect them better?

In the end it really did not matter; the better question right now would be what to do. The rational side of his mind knew getting as far away from something that is classed as a class 5 magical creature (known wizard killers that are impossible to train or domesticate) was the safest (and sanest) thing to do, but a part of him, a part that seems to have started playing up ever since coming here wanted him to fight the dragon, to prove his strength, to show the beast he was not someone that could simply be dismissed after having spit fire at.

Harry was broken from his thoughts when he saw that the dragon had caught one of the similarly clad bow wielding men in between his jaws. Harry winced and felt the bile rising in his throat as the man's screaming suddenly stopped when the dragon's powerful jaws crushed its victim and permanently ended the man's life.

Harry had no real reason to help those people. He didn't even know who they were and he sure as hell didn't own them any allegiance, but watching those people get killed right in front of him while he knew he could do something to prevent those deaths was not something even his rational mind could handle. So having come to a decision he decided to spring into action.

Assuming that this dragon was as magical resistant as the ones he had read about and knowing that it would take a small miracle to hit the eyes from this distance Harry decided to go for a more indirect approach.

Aiming his wand at one of the pieces of stone atop the tower he made a simple twirling movement with his wand and muttered a relatively simple transfiguration spell under his breath. Upon getting hit by the spell the simple slab of stone changed into a perfect round stone sphere. Harry then levitated the ball so it was roughly in the middle of the tower and then directed another spell at it.

''Gemino.'' He intoned and where there was once one there were now two balls. Harry then fired the spell several more times in rapid succession and it was only moments later that he a dozen or so of the original.

Harry then levitated one of the balls and took aim. Once he was ready he made a sweeping gesture with his wand and finished it by aiming at a spot he thought the dragon would move to next he then whispered in an almost anticipating tone, ''Depulso.''

For a moment the stone sphere kept hovering in front of him and then it shot away like a cannonball fired from a cannon. That was the beauty of the banishing charm; the more magic you put in your spell the faster it moved and with the amount of magic he had put in it the speed should be more than enough to hurt it, or at least get its attention … that is if he actually hit the thing that is.

Moments later his improvised cannonball hit; a clean hit to the beast's left wing … admittedly it was not the head he had been aiming for, but it was his first attempt so he thought he did pretty well. In fact it seems he had done extremely well as his hit seems to have done more damage than he had anticipated as the dragon landed, seemingly unable to use one of his wings anymore.

As soon as the beast landed it was surrounded from all sides by those carrying melee weapons while those carrying bow and arrow continue to fire at it. From what Harry could see they were actually winning as the movements of the dragon became more and more sluggish. This more or less confirmed it to him that those weapons weren't normal; dragon scales shouldn't be that easily penetrated. It also explained how he had been able to take that dragon down so easily; it must have been wounded pretty badly already.

It was then that suddenly something very strange happened. Just after what looks to be the fatal strike was struck the dragon caught fire? How a dragon of all things could catch fire Harry had no idea, but from this distance that was what it looked like.

Deciding to take a closer look, Harry apparitied a short distance away from the dragon. Once the feeling of slight disorientation that accompanied this form of travel passed and Harry got a closer look at the dragon he saw he had been wrong earlier; the dragon was not on fire, but that was the only thing he could say for sure as he had no idea what was happening. Whatever that 'fire' was it now had moved toward one of the people standing there and she seems to absorb it in her body. Well he at least knew one thing; any remaining doubts of those people being Muggles left him at that display of what was clearly magic.

Moments later the shocking display of magic ended with an even more shocking end result. Somehow the magic 'fire' had stripped away all the flesh of the dragon and now only bones remained.

What was perhaps even weirder was that the archer; a young woman probably around his age looked almost as baffled at the display of magic as Harry felt himself. Hadn't she been the one to cast the spell that ended with the dragon as a skeleton?

It was then that one of the yellow uniformed men approached the girl and exclaimed ''I can't believe it … you are Dragonborn!´´

Harry hadn't the faintest idea what the man was talking about (Trough he did note the man spoke English although not with any accent he recognised), but apparently the girl who was wearing a different outfit then all the others who had been fighting the dragon knew what he spoke of as it first she gained a look of shock, but that was quickly replaced by outrage, ''Watch your tongue,'' The young woman spat with enough ferocity that the man who was at least a head taller to take a step back. ''What you speak of is not only impossible, but also disrespectful to lord Talos.''

The man managed to regain his composure and countered, ''You slayed and absorbed the power of a dragon. According to the very oldest tales that is something only a Dragonborn can do.''

The girl seem to ready to protest when the man spoke up again. ''There is only one way to be sure; try to shout; according to the old legends only the Dragonborn could shout without training, the way dragons do.''

'Dragon's shout?' Harry thought with a frown as he tried to imagine how anyone could see the dragons spitting fire as shouting. And if he understands that little story correctly did that man seriously believe that girl could spit fire like dragons?

For a moment Harry allowed himself to indulge in a little fantasy of someone actually shooting fire from their mouth or to be more precise him doing it toward Voldemort, but he was suddenly brought out of his little fantasy when he heard the girl shout.

''**Force!'' **

What happened next was honestly not all that impressive. If Harry had to describe it as anything than it would be area affecting weak as hell banishing charm. What was strange however was that the girl as far as he could see didn't have any magical foci on her. Was this one of those shouts that that guy had mentioned? Could this form of magic be the power he knows not? It really did not look that impressive, but maybe that was only because she accessed this branch of magic for the first time?

As he thought back to what he had just witnessed Harry realised something else. That girl hadn't said Force she had said Fus and yet he had clearly heard Force … no NO **NO! **He already had one langue he could automatically understand he did not need another; not after the fallout that followed when people learned he was a parselmouth.

Oh who he kidding; he touched a scroll, was somehow transported to a place with not one, but two moons, had fought over two dozen wolves and a freaking dragon in the span of less than an hour and he was surprised he could somehow understand some kind of foreign langue? No he really shouldn't he was Harry Potter and this was just one of these days.

* * *

**Author Notes:**

For those thinking Harry had managed to beat Mirmulnir (the dragon in this chapter) to easily don't worry. Harry will have a harder time in the future when he faces off against stronger dragons. Also I knew Harry is a tad OOC, but I already warned you reader for that and for those wondering yes his change in personality is plot related I did not just change him for no reason.

**Next chapter****: Chapter two: E.T. phone home? **


	3. Faissa of the Companions

**Chapter two: ****Faissa of the Companions**

In the seventeen winters she had live trough, Faissa had seen and done many different and sometimes strange things or at least that was what she had thought not only a week ago. Now however she could only think her life had been rather dull in comparison to everything that had happened these last few days.

It had all started when she was allowed to go on her first solo assignment for the companions. It was a simple assignment really; she had to travel to a small town close to the border with Cyrodiil and take care of a Sabre Cat who had made itself at home in one of the homes of the village.

It had been pretty easy for her; the cat never stood a chance as just moments after it had realised she was close to it one of her arrows had already pierced trough it´s skull. So suffice it so say her first sole mission went rather smoothly. Unfortunately that was when things went south.

It was just after she had started on her track back to Whiterun that she had stumbled upon something unexpected. There in the middle of the road she was travelling upon a battle was going on between two groups of people who's allegiance she could easily identity due to the uniforms they wore. One group, the one who seemed to be overwhelming the other belonged to the Imperial legion, the military force of the Empire and the others wore a uniform that any person living in Skyrim should recognise; they were the Stormcloaks, the so called liberators of Skyrim led by Jarl Ulfric the man who according to some used the power of the voice to murder the high king while according to others challenged him and won in single combat.

The sight of Stormcloaks fighting the legion shouldn't be that surprising as ever since the civil war had started she had heard an increasing amount of stories of the two groups fighting in varies part of Skyrim, but she had never expected to see them themselves. To be honest she had no real interest in seeing either group as after what she heard from one of her Khajiit shield-sisters Jarl Ulfric while fighting for a noble cause only cared about Nords and none of the other races that called Skyrim home and the less said about those Thalmor lackeys known as the legion the better.

So with that in mind she was about to turn around and make her way back to the village and wait there for an hour or two so that she wouldn't get involved, but before she could do that she was hit on the back of her head all she saw was darkness.

When she woke up again she had a blinding headache and apparently she been taken prisoner by the legion. Worse yet they had taken away her weapons! The arrows she really couldn't care about, but her bow had been a gift from Aela after she had finished training under her. And that was not even mentioning her dagger; not only was the Daedric dagger probably the most expensive thing she owned, but according to the harbinger the weapon had belonged to her father and later to her mother and after she was killed the Harbinger took possession of it and gifted it to her when she was old enough to learn how to wield a weapon and now those cowardly bastard had taken them away from her.

Things went from bad to worse when they arrived in Helgen and learned that the captured Stormcloaks including Jarl Ulfric himself were to be executed. Not only that, but apparently not only the Stormcloaks were set to be executed, but so was she!

By the nine, 'forget the list she goes to the block?' What was that supposed to mean. She had told them she wasn't a Stormcloak, but a companion on a quest, yet they still wanted to execute her? Had the empire really fallen that far that they would just execute anyone who was at the wrong place at the wrong time?

Apparently they had as after one of the Stormcloaks had been beheaded she had been called forward. Having her hands bound and already having tried to and failed to explain the situation she decided to meet her demise as any Nord should. So with her head held high she walked up to the block and laid her head down without needing a kick in the back unlike her predecessor whose blood now covered half her face.

Something completely unexpected happen however happen just as she muttered her last prayers to the divines wishing to meet her parents in Sovngarde even trough she doubted she had done enough in her life to deserve to end there and with her father being an Imperial instead of Nord she doubted he was there, but considering her death was imminent all she could do was pray.

She wasn't sure if some higher power had heard her and decided to act, but when of all possible things a **dragon **interrupted her execution and started to completely destroy the city she had to admit she was more than a little bit overwhelmed.

What happened after that was a bit blurry in her mind; she could remember the stench of burned flesh as everywhere around Legionaries were running around trying to stop the dragon, she could remember entering the keep with one of the Stormcloaks which she vaguely recognized from her youth as someone from a nearby village, she remembered finding her gear stashed away in one of the chests in the keep and she vaguely remembered fighting those disgusting Frostbite Spiders. Finally she recalled that as soon as she saw daylight she had quickly made her way back to Jorrvaskr and without even greeting anyone she had made her way toward the Harbinger and without even waiting for him to ask her to take a seat she started to ramble about everything that had happened during her rather eventful first sole mission.

Kodlak had listened to her patiently, not once interrupting her tale and once she had finished he had told the Jarl had to be informed of this. So he took her to Dragonsreach, home to the Jarl of Whiterun, Balgruuf the Greater.

There she was asked to repeat her previous tale; at this point exhaustion had really caught up with her and she much rather be in her bed in Jorrvaskr, but one does not disobey a direct order given to you be the Jarl so she repeated the same story again.

As a 'reward' for all her trouble she had received a quest from the Jarl when she finished telling him all about what had happened in Helgen. Well not exactly from the Jarl, he had send her to the Court Mage, Farengar Secret-Fire who tasked her to retrieve some stone, called the Dragon stone which had apparently something to do with dragons.

It was bad enough that she was tasked with a quest she could not refuse while she was in the exhausted state she was, but now she had to it for a mage to? Luckily the Harbinger was still there and he requested that she was allowed some time to rest before she had to set out on her quest. The Jarl who also was still there allowed it and so she returned to Jorrvaskr for some much needed rest, but the next morning she had to set out toward Bleak Falls Barrow.

Her time spend in that Barrow almost ranked at the top of the weirdest experiences in her life (seeing a dragon moments before dying still definitely topped it). At first it was relatively normal she encountered two bandits which she managed to dispatch which relative ease as she the first had never heard her coming and the second one which was carrying a sword was not a threat to her either from that range.

As she moved further into the barrow she stumbled upon another bandit, but just as she got ready to take him down he pulled some kind of handle embedded in the ground and suddenly darts were released and pierced the man's body instantly killing him.

She doubt the man took the coward's way out so she was sure to leave that handle alone until she had taken a good look around the room she was in. After several minutes of looking around she realised what she had stumbled upon; it had to be one of those puzzles she had heard the bards talk about, the ones the Nords of old used to guard their tombs.

Surprisingly it had been pretty easy to solve the puzzle …. or at least she hoped she solved it when she pulled the handle which had led to the death of the bandit. Fortunately instead of getting skewered by darts as soon as she she pulled the handle and nearby gate opened and she was allowed to advance.

After following the path and taking care of some minor pest with her dagger she encountered something she could definitely have done without; webbing, and where webbing was found those damn Frost spiders would often follow.

In the distance she was able to hear someone calling for help, but she wasn't inclined to move fast as the only people she had encountered thus far had been bandits and she wasn't going to rush in a dangerous situation for one of them.

So cautiously moving forward and cutting away the webbing that barred her way she eventually came upon a round room where on the opposite side of where she entered she saw who had been calling for help, it was a Dunmer other than it's face it was almost completely covered up by webbing, the Dunmer however did not hold her attention long. Instead her attention was held by something that came down from the ceiling.

What came down was something that had her already pale skin pale even further and she almost took a step back as the biggest Frost spider she had ever seen landed in front of her; she may be a warrior, but there was just something about those things that freaked her out and it being even bigger than normal definitely did not help.

Still she managed to hold her composure and with speed honed by countless hours of practice she had readied an arrow and fired it moments later. The arrow hit the beast head as intended, but it was clearly not enough as instead of falling down the spider made a movement she was more familiar with then she would have liked as it reared its head back before moving it back forward again and firing a blob of poisonous venom at her.

Not even having waited for beast to spit it's poison, Faissa had rolled to the side the moments she saw the beast move it's head back and the moment she came out of her role she remained in a crouching position as she readied her bow again before drawing another of her arrows from her quiver.

This time when she released her arrow she did more visible damage as the giant spider stumbled for several tense moments before it fell down.

Faissa sighed in relief when she saw the beast fall and she moved her hand to check her quiver. She frowned when she felt that there were only two arrows left and not for the first time wished more arrows could fit in it; that would make fighting definitely easier.

She then turned her attention back to the previous dismissed Drummer and approached him. Before she could say anything to him the Dunmer spoke himself, ''You did it. You killed it. Now cut me down before anything else shows up.''

Faissa bristled at his words and pulled her dagger, the elf seemingly believing she was going to cut him down looked happy for a moment, but that expression quickly changed into one of fear when she placed the dagger at his throat.

She narrowed her eyes at the Dunmer to show she was serious and in a tone that showed her irritations she said, ''Listen and listen well,'' she hissed with enough venom that if she didn't already have a dagger to his throat she would definitely have intimated the man caught in the webbing. ''I have just had one of the worst days of my life, got barely any sleep last night as I had to go on a quest I received from a mage and now a bandit like yourself is going to give me orders? Give me one good reason not to kill you.''

The Dunmer who's name she did not know nor care to know gulped and stammered out. ''I-I am not a ba-'' The young companion cut him of at this point and swiftly cut trough his throat. She had given him a chance and if he was going to waste her time with lies then he had decided his own fate.

Once she was sure he was no longer in the land of the living she started cutting away the webbing around the dead Dunmer as from what she could see beyond him was the only other pathway away from there.

As soon as she had cleared a path for herself she was about to move on, but she stopped when she noticed something from the corner of her eyes. She crouched and picked up an object from the dead Dunmer which she had previously missed as he was mostly hidden way be the webbing.

She wasn't sure what exactly the object was; it somewhat resembled a hand or a claw, but regardless of what it was it looked like it was made of gold so it should be worth a couple of Septims and she decided to stash it away in her pouch.

The next thing she encountered she probably should have expected considering where she was, but when she actually encountered one of the infamous draugr she had been nearly skewered when she froze up for a brief moment when the very dead Nord warrior suddenly started walking.

'How exactly have I killed something that was already dead to begin with?' She had wondered after her brief scuffle with the first draugr she had ever encountered, but she didn't have to long to think about it as more undead awoke and started attacking her.

After that fight she managed to make her way past several traps, even more draugr (some which carried some remarkably well preserved arrows she was more than happy to relieve them off) she eventually came upon what could only be another one of those puzzles.

This time it took her significantly longer to solve the puzzle, but after some time she realised that the symbols that were on the rings she could turn were familiar and after thinking it over she realised she had seen them on the golden claw thing.

Some more fumbling around later and the doorway actually rose in the ceiling; opening up the path for her. After she managed to get past the puzzle she managed to get past several more traps, fought and defeated a number of draugr and even managed to take down a particularly menacing looking troll, but then she stumbled upon what looked to be the end of the road as at first glance she couldn't find any other exit in the room that would allow her to move on save for the one she had used to enter, nor did she see anything resembling that stone she had been tasked to find.

The thought of having missed the stone and needing to head back to search however quickly left her mind when her attention fell on a specifically finely decorated piece of wall that was inscribed with what she guessed were words, but she couldn't be sure as the symbols were so unlike the alphabet she had learned when she was a child.

There was something weird about that piece of wall; it felt like it was calling out to her and without even realising it she had started moving toward it. As she drew closer a strange sound seems to fill her ears that only seem to urge her on and one of the symbols started to glow; faint at first, but as she drew closer it became more and more intense and by the time she stood in front of the wall the glow had engulfed her entire vision.

Then it suddenly stopped and everything was back to normal; she no longer heard anything out of the ordinary and the stone wall was back to looking relatively ordinary. Had that been real? It had felt real enough and she hadn't touched any ale today, but she had never heard of magic like this before, but on the other hand she couldn't deny that after what happened she felt somewhat different. She felt like she gained some great power, but it was just out of her reach to use it.

She had frowned when she realised this; she was a proud warrior of the companions she didn't need some short-cut to gain power; especially not when magic was involved, but before she could think about it more the lit of the sarcophagus that had been behind her suddenly moved and fell to the ground. As she spun around to check the source of the disturbance and she saw a draugr slowly climb out of his former resting place. The draugr looked quite different then the others she had faced before and she had to admit it looked quite a bit more intimating that it's already slain brethren.

To be honest this was not the best situation for her; while she could use her dagger when her foes came to close and even knew some hand to hand combat skills her primary way of fighting was that of the bow and arrow and that draugr had appeared a bit to close for her tastes. Still regardless of how intimidating it may look she would not back down (or could for that matter considering she was already with her back against the wall).

So before the draugr could fully rise from his sarcophagus she already had of the arrows she had taken from the fallen draugr ready to fire. She released it just when the former human had fully risen and it hit just where she had intended …. but the draugr didn't even seem to have felt it as it merely turned to her and spoke?

She didn't get to wonder long if those three words the draugr spoke meant anything as moments later she felt an invisible force slam into her and she was roughly launched against the wall behind her. As she slammed against the wall she felt pain in her ribs and she heard a sound that signalled a visit to the temple of Kynareth was warranted if she made it out of the temple alive.

Slightly dazed from the blow, Faissa couldn't help, but stare at the draugr in shock, by Kyne unless she was strongly mistaken the creature in front of her had used the power of the voice against her! If this was any other time then she probably she would have wondered if she should be honoured to fight someone who uses such a revered power or pissed by the fact it was some random undead she encountered while doing a quest for the court mage.

She did not think this however as her complete focus was directed on the enemy in front of her. She managed to push the pain to the back of her mind and pushed herself of the wall. She would take this thing down no matter how powerful it was there was no other choice.

Unexpectedly the ensuing fight turned out to be rather simple for while her previous shot to the head didn't seem to have hurt it, her shot to the knee saw him stumble around for several moments which was more than enough for to close the distance and draw her dagger with her off hand. Once she was close she swung her dagger with all her might and slashed a large gash on the creature´s chest. This at least seemed to have done some damage as the creature went down to a knee.

Considering that the draugr did not bleed or showed any other visible signs of injury Faissa was unsure just how much damage she had done, but considering the creature had no gain in faking his injury (she wasn't even sure if he was smart enough for it) she assumed it was wounded pretty badly and she shouldn't let this opportunity go to waste.

So dropping her bow and gripping her dagger with both hands she swung again …. and again …. and again. She hadn't even realised the draugr had fallen down she just kept slashing. It wasn't until her energy finally ran out that she stopped.

Luckily she had brought some stamina and health potions with her. She still needed a visit to the temple when she returned to Whiterun, but for now at least she could move.

Surprisingly enough shortly after that she found the dragon stone, which had been hidden in the sarcophagus where the draugr she had fought before had risen from. Unfortunately the thing was annoyingly heavy and she just was barely able to carry it with one arm, leaving her only one arm to defend herself as she travelled back to Whiterun and the inability to use her bow. Fortunately she did not encounter anything she could not sneak around so she arrived in Whiterun without another fight.

Once there she had paid a visit to the temple and once she was back in good fighting condition she had made her way back to Dragonsreach and handed the stone to Farengar (the whole damn quest was almost worth it when the weakling nearly dropped the stone due to it's weight). She had then noticed he was not alone as a hooded female was there to. The woman was staring at her with such intensity that she almost subconsciously started to reach for her dagger, but then the look in her eyes changed into one of recognition. Did that woman know her? And if so who was she because she was pretty sure she had never seen her before.

Unfortunately before she could confront the woman regarding how she knew her, Irileth the Jarl's housecarl, had stormed into the room and had told her to come with her. Long story short another dragon had been sighted and she had been 'volunteered' due to her 'experience' by the Jarl to help Irileth and the guards to take down the dragon which supposedly had attacked the Western Watchtower.

Thank the nine she had gone to the healer before she had gone to Dragonsreach because they had set out immediately only stopping momentarily to briefly brief the guards which had already assembled by the gate.

During their travel to the tower Faissa couldn't help, but think she had one hell of a tale to tell when finally could go home. After all not even the members of the inner circle could boast they had fought a dragon and she was also pretty sure not many of her shield brothers and sisters have gone up against draugr which could use the way of the voice (at least she had heard no tales of such feat). When she arrived however any and all thoughts regarding tales of glory left her mind as the to familiar stench of burned flesh penetrated her nose.

Without wasting another moment she retrieved an arrow from her quiver which was now filled with Dwarven arrows straight from the Whiterun armoury and readied her bow so that she could shoot it at the dragon as soon as it reappeared.

She did not have to wait long as just moments after arriving a roar could be heard from the distance and as soon as she turned in the direction of the sound she saw it; a dragon, one significantly smaller than the one which had saved her life (and had almost killed her). The legendary beast took only moments to bridge the distance between them and when it was within range Faissa fired her first arrow alongside a good portion of the guards who had brought a bow.

Strangely enough the dragon ignored them and fired it's fire at the top of the supposedly abandoned Watchtower. For a moment she thought she saw something red amidst all the first, but she quickly dismissed the thought as she moved herself in a better position to fire her next arrow from.

She didn't know how much time passed as she ran, fired arrows and watched as guards got brutally killed, but then suddenly something unexpected happened. From the corner of her eyes she saw what looked like a ball made of stone fly trough the air at a rapid pace before it stuck the dragon on one of it's wings. As the dragon roared seemingly in pain Faissa allowed herself a moment to follow the path the ball must have taken. When she did she saw someone standing atop the Watchtower; he or she must have been the one who had attacked the dragon, but how it was done she had no idea as not matter how strong a person was they couldn't throw a ball made of stone such a distance and the only magic she knew of that could do something similar was telekinesis, but what she knew of the spell (very little), it wasn't capable of doing that.

She didn't get to think about the person atop the tower for long however as the blow to the wing had forced the dragon to land and she needed to keep her attention to the fighting. As part of the remaining guards drew their swords and charged the wounded beast she continued to unleash her arrows at it.

Several more guards died as the dragon kept fighting until its dying breath, but then it's head dropped and Faissa knew they had done it! They had killed an actual dragon! She couldn't help the elation she felt as she gazed at the slain dragon, but that feeling elation soon vanished and was replaced by a feeling of wariness when the dragon seemingly burst in flames, that feeling turned into panic when the flames suddenly moved toward her at speeds way to fast for her to backpedal away. When the 'flames' reached her however the expected pain did not come instead she felt like power that had previously been just out of her reach was now finally in her reach and it wanted to be used.

It was then that one of the guards approached her and told her something shocking as he had claimed she was a Dragonborn. Faissa knew what a Dragonborn was; what Nord did not know the tales, but her having the same power as Tiber Septim? Impossible! Blasphemy!

She said as such to the guard, but he did not give up and told her to try and shout something she supposedly could now she had taken in that 'fire' which was apparently the 'power' of the dragon.

Even trough part of her wanting to deny that she could not shout the power that awakened within in her almost demanded to be used and against her better judgement she uttered a single word which she wasn't even sure how she knew it.

''**Fus****!'' **

As soon as she uttered that word power unlike anything she had ever felt before seem to course trough her body and into her mouth and then it was suddenly over, but the effects outside of her body were visible as an invisible force the likes she had seen used against her only hours before now struck the guard that had claimed she was the Dragonborn. Luckily unlike the attack that had been used against her, her attack seems to be drastically weaker as the guard only stumbled backwards.

Unfortunately this also proved the guard had been right; she could shout. Did that mean he was also right in his claim of her being the Dragonborn? It was impossible wasn't it? Then again after all the things she had experienced this week was the fact she was the Dragonborn so surprising …. yes, yes it was, but unfortunately it also may not be impossible. One thing was certain and that was when she returned to Jorrvaskr she had one hell of a tale to tell.

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**Next chapter: chapter three: E.T. phone home?**


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