Elder Scroll series, Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

_**Hello everybody, this is Kenka with another story for you all, now just to avoid some questions; no I am not abandoning any of my stories, I just hit a small writers block on them and I just write this whenever it happens to help get my focus back, this is not a Harry/Hermione pairing this time Harry will have a relationship with an OC and if you don't like it then don't read it. **_

_**This will have longer chapters and much will happen at once as I am tired of dilly dallying, there will be no Blood/Frost/Elder/Ancient dragons as they are extinct in my story but their descendants like the lovable Horntail and others will be descended from them and will not be as intelligent as they have been treated like animals for hundreds of years. Skyrim will be a lost civilization as in my version the Altmeri Dominion nearly destroyed everything during what I will call the Last War.**_

_**Warning; Harry will be a squib by Wizard standings, the 'Potters' will be arrogant and Dumbledore will be a manipulative goat as usual. There will be Wizarding World bashing here and there.**_

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_Snow swirled around the warrior in a terrible gale on the mountain peak, the thundering of mighty wings assailed his ears he gripped his weapon tighter his battle-hardened eyes tracking the source of the sound in the skies. Chanting, he could hear powerful, unbridled rhythmic shouts like a battle cry. The pounding grew, not louder but deeper, his heart thumped with it, pouting against his ribcage, a crescendo climaxed in his mind._

"_**Do—ahk—n!"**_

Harry sat straight up in bed, sweat soaked his body his heart was beating so fast, the thundering beat of wings still thumping in his mind. He sighed and swung his legs over to the side of his bed, glancing at the clock on his bedside table, it was 6:34 in the morning. No point going back to bed, he was already wide awake, he slowly got out of bed and grabbed his bathrobe before going to the mirror above his dresser. The edges of his black hair were matted with sweat and he looked rather pale, he swept his hair back and ruffled it to dry it out faster.

Harry Evens was not very tall or broad in the shoulders but he was one-hundred and seventy pounds of muscle, due to his rigorous training in hand-to-hand combat and use of the Viking sword and shield, he has battle scars on his body, souvenirs from his more dangerous sojourns, his untidy black hair reached his shoulders and several locks were braided near his temples.

His room looked like a cross between a bedroom and a museum; artifacts from various digs are labeled and in some cases, placed under glass. A Viking sword, not a relic, lay propped up against the bookcase filled with translated diaries of ancient texts, mostly combat manuals pertaining to a style dubbed 'The Way of the Wolf,' other texts pertained to histories and folklore.

Sleepily, he made his way down the stairs to the dining room his mother was already awake and looking over her files on an ancient burial site in Romania discovered by dragon handlers. She looked over at Harry when she heard the sound of his light footfalls.

"Oh, Harry, did I wake you?" she smiled at her son sweetly, reaching a hand out to him, he was seventeen years old but she still loved him as much as she did when she first felt him kick.

Harry shook his head, "No I just had that dream again." He said simply, it was the same reason that he always woke early, though sometimes it was a man with red eyes or a demonic statue that talked. However the dragon was becoming more and more frequent; it was starting to scare him.

Lily pulled him into a hug smoothing his hair no matter how much he looked like a warrior he was still her baby. She believed that Harry was special no matter what anyone even Dumbledore said.

Harry sat down across from his mother and pulled a picture from her file over to him, it looked like a catacomb of sorts. Harry shared his mother's interest for archeology actually Lily Evens was several things aside from a mother; she was also a curse-breaker, a historian and a renowned potions mistress.

"Anything new on the tomb?" Harry asked.

"I could tell you what it's not, so we won't know until we get down there." Lily took the photo back, and placing her reports and papers back in her folder before waving her wand at the kitchen charming several eggs to crack themselves open into a pan. Lily started to cook breakfast while her son looked over her notes of the artifacts they found and cataloged. He loved what his mum did he thought she was like the coolest mother in the world, she always came back with tales of her adventures and bring him souvenirs of the old tombs and ruins when he was younger. He even learned how to read different ancient alphabets including Cuniform, Futhark, Ogham, and Hieroglyphs, because he wanted to do what she did. Right now he and his mother are in Denmark on an archeological expedition, they are currently staying at the guest house on the dragon reserve.

Harry and his mother were a team; they travel all over Europe, discovering ancient burial sites much like this one, rather unique ones. This tomb was of interest to them because the local experts couldn't agree on the archeological structure; some say it's Roman, but some historians insist that it was made by the Scandinavians for the artistic carvings on the pillars and stone crypts, a few believe that it is Celtic. Which is way they called in the Evens', Lily was the foremost authority on these kinds of catacombs, it was not the first one they have come across. Harry still shivered at the memory of one they found in Iceland, they had encountered something new in those caverns, at first they thought it was _inferi, _but Harry translated a bit of the old text in the tomb and learned they were called _draugar, _an old Norse term for _those who walk after death._ It was actually a major discovery, draugar have not been seen for almost two-thousand years, and they were not welcoming, hell, Harry fought his way out of that tomb.

After a good hearty breakfast of eggs and bangers, with toast and jam, "So mum, any chance we'll run into giant spiders?" Harry asked with a small teasing grin.

Lily glared at him, "Don't even joke about that." She hissed, during an expedition in a tomb in Norway she ran into a nest of spiders as big as horses, she never really got over it, Harry didn't blame her, acromantulas were no laughing matter, much less frostbite spiders, their northern cousins, they can survive in and prefer cold climates, and their venom corrodes the skin much like frostbite.

Harry has been his mother's little helper ever since he turned eleven, and since that time he has learned a lot about being an archeologist at least where his interest lies, translations were his forte, but he is more of a tomb-raider then an archeologist. He has, what his mother liked to call a Gryffindor's attitude on exploration, he braves the unknown, but he is not stupid, not since the near miss a year ago.

Until noon Lily went over with Harry the list of everything he would need for their little adventure when William or Bill Weasley as he preferred, dropped by.

"So, little Harry is going to pillaging a tomb with his mum, eh?" Bill jabbed Harry in the shoulder, Harry always liked Bill, he was like a mixture of big brother and fun uncle, he once even got Harry a fang earring, when Harry first modeled for his mother she nearly flayed Bill alive, until she saw it was a fake that stuck on with a sticking charm.

"I am _not _a tomb-raider, I am an archeologist." Lily corrected, somewhat half-heartedly as she came out of her room; she was dressed in tan trousers, cotton shirt, hiking boots, a ratty looking army jacket that her Irish father wore in the service, he survived all of World War II wearing that same jacket and never got injured once, said it was weaved by God's grace and that's what saved him. Over her shoulder was a bag to carry all her tools.

Bill was dressed pretty much the same but he wore a leather jacket instead and had a hiker's pack over his shoulder.

Harry sported a pair of jeans, white t-shirt and a brown leather vest, a backpack was slung on his shoulders at his side he strapped on his Viking sword. Lily took her son by the hand and took hold of her apprentice by the arm before she turned on her heel and disapparated.

Harry landed on he knees gasping for air, he hated the feeling of disapparating, being squeezed like that was not natural, and his mum once said something about him being that way just before he was born but he never understood what she meant until his mum gave him 'The Talk'. When Harry got up he saw a set of old iron doors that led into the side of the mountain, they were open and an expanse of nothing but black stretched out before them. Lily raised her wand, "Illuminabit semitam." A beam of light shot into the tunnel, lighting the tombs as bright as day, it was a spell used to light up tunnels and caves; it was highly advanced and difficult to master.

They all walked into what Lily guessed was a record chamber, scrolls littered a stone slab that must've been used for a desk, jars and burial urns lined the walls, some were overturned and broken. Harry looked around wary, this place was too eerie, he carefully brought out his sword an inch ready to draw it at a moments notice; his experience with these tombs told him to always expect the worst, their builders had a love for traps, and he expects a draugr to step out of its resting place and attack.

The more he thought about it the more he wondered, these tombs are older then any historical record that pertains to the Germanic tribes, he had a theory that these people were the forerunners to the Germanic peoples; the language was similar to several of their dialects especially Old Norse, but they were obviously more advanced so something must've have happened to set them back.

"Mum." Harry picked something up from the ground and started to turn it over in his hands, his fingers brushed away the dirt and grime to reveal an iron pendant in the shape of an axe or hammer he cant be sure, Bill looked over at Harry's little find before Lily got there.

"Interesting." She breathed, the craftsmanship was exquisite, and there was hardly any sign of decay, the camber must've been air-tight when it was reopened, that was the only explanation she had to its preservation.

"It almost looks like a 'Thor's Hammer,' maybe they worshiped something similar." Harry always angled for his theory about the Forerunners as he calls them.

"Could be, Harry, maybe your proof is in here somewhere." Bill commented obviously excited. Harry smirked.

"Sure beats working for Gringotts in old Egyptian tombs, eh? That frontier was been explored quite thoroughly."

"Darn straight," Bill responded minding his tongue around his boss, "these discoveries are unearthing a forgotten civilization, this is much more interesting." He laughed, "I could see it now; our names in history books, National Geographic, Magical Geographic, Hollywood, the next mummy title; The Draugr."

"You two geniuses might want to discuss that title with any draugr you are sure to wake up with your yammering." Lily sang over her shoulder, causing the boys to zip their lips and follow her down a long flight of stairs to another chamber, this was massive, by now they should be deep under the mountain. Great stone crypts lined the room, orbs of light dotted the walls, and across from them was a great iron door covered in the lettering of the Forerunners. Harry drew his sword out completely this time; the crypts made him nervous. When they crossed over to the opposite wall, Bill and Lily started to observe an ornate gold diagram on the floor that looked like some sort of ritual circle, while Harry started to attempt to decipher the inscription on the door.

"Any idea on who's behind the door Harry?" Lily asked as she took down notes on the diagram, Harry ran his hand over the carved surface shaking his head. Lily had put him in charge of translation of this particular language for the past year and Harry is okay at it.

"I can only read a bit." He took out a digital camera from his pocket and started to take snapshots of the inscriptions. "The rest I'll have to bounce off Old Norse. But this is defiantly Forerunner." He pointed to a line of runes, "'Sovrngard;' _Hall of Valor_."

Bill looked up, "'Hall of Valor'? Sounds like 'Vahalla.'"

"Maybe, the English word 'valor' comes from the word 'Vahalla,' after all Old English is Anglo-Saxon." Lily commented as she brushed away some more dust.

Harry muttered to himself, "Midgard, Asgard, yes Sovrngard, yes that fits." he jotted a few things down in his journal, which is full of notes about their culture. "If you don't mind I'm going to go back and start translating this door before we do anything to open it up, for all we know it could be a prison, or booby-trapped." Lily nodded her consent, and Harry activated the portkey in his pocket.

Harry reappeared back in his room barely landing on his feet, he really hated all forms of magical travel, and he took out his camera and plugged into his laptop and started to upload and print out the images of the runes on the door. After he categorized them and hung them accordingly he set up his chalkboards and started to copy down the runes that was the easy part, after which he started to translate what he did know and that wasn't very much. When he was done he had five whole chalkboards filled up, after taking one look at the task before him he said, "I'm going to need coffee."

_**One Week Later…**_

It took Harry a week to translate the entire thing, some of the words he could not find an English variant, like; _Dovah,_ _Thu'um _and_ Daedra. _If he was correct in the translations then this was not just a tomb this was a library or a vault, maybe both. It also talked about the circle before the door about how the key was the _blood of the_ _dovahkiin_.

_Dovahkiin; _That word, sounded so familiar to him but for the life of him he can't remember where he heard it. He wandered if _dovahkiin _was the plural to _dovah_, or a pronoun or adverb, which adds the question what _'kiin'_ stands for. 'kin?' Or something like 'kin?' But that was just blind hope, wishful thinking, he won't have a clear idea what it means until he could find its 'Rosetta Stone,' and that will take a while. Harry invited Lily and Bill up to his room to tell them about his discovery of who or what it behind that door.

"So you finally translated the door?" Bill asked, he and Lily have been collecting and cataloging the relics from the tomb for the past week, they even carefully exhumed one of the crypts and found the remains of a warrior wearing a suit of well-forged steel armor. They both looked like hell.

Harry nodded. "Most of it, the rest is another language all together." He took a sip of what had to be his thousandth cup of coffee. "From what I could read the inscriptions on the door tell of the deeds of a hero of Herculean proportions, he was said to possess a power called the _thu'um_. A power said to be granted by the gods. This tomb is his resting place, and it is sealed by the diagram you two have been studying, it is some sort of blood-seal that can only be broken by the _blood of the dovahkiin_, by the blood of someone who shared his power."

"That's helpful." Bill grumbled, after a week of tangoing with mummified corpses while praying to the gods of the tomb's builders that they won't come back to life and rip him in half, he has grown a little touchy.

"A gift from the gods? Like foresight?" Lily never really put much stock in the art of divination but she figured that it must have been much more… genuine in ancient times.

"Well a description here says '_atop the peak of the world, the Thu'um of his voice shook the heaven's asunder, to this almighty feat the Eater of Worlds did surrender_.'" He pointed to the passage, "I think that the _Thu'um_ might have been some sort of magic word or words of sorts as the passage clearly states that the power comes from the voice like how you would do an incantation to perform magic."

Bill interjected, "So they were wizards like us?"

"I think they might have been more advanced," Lily stated, "remember we found records pertaining to a college, the College of… argh." She snapped her fingers trying to remember the name lucky Harry once more came to the rescue.

"College of Winterhold, and I don't think that the mural is referring to them when it's talking about the _thu'um_, it mentions a place called High Hrothgar, some sort of monastery on a mountaintop. It doesn't say where though, chances are it's already gone."

"So, how are we going to get past the door I have never even heard of this _thu'um_ so how are we going to find someone who shares this hero's power?" Bill grumbled, running his fingers through his hair.

"We start with us and work from there. Who knows one of us could have it, it might be like the gift of prophecy; you don't know you have it until it rears its head." Harry stated in monotone, truth is he would like to fall into a sleep of the dead at this moment but this takes precedence. "Just put a little bit of your blood in the center of that diagram you two have been working on."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"Blast it." Harry stated simply, "I'm too tired to talk alternatives."

Lily sighed, "Too tiered to argue with you there."

_**Later that night…**_

Harry rubbed his head, his mental and emotional fatigue starting to take his toll on him, he hoped that this time he would be able to get some sleep; the restless nights have been getting worse. Last night he dreamt of the chanting again, it's been getting gradually louder until now it pounded in his head like a thunderclap. Out of a sense of superstition he started to wear the hammer-like amulet he found in the tomb hoping it would protect him from the sleepless nights, no such luck, but he developed a habit of wearing it all the same.

"_Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal"_ he muttered under his breath, one of the few lines to the archaic chant he was able to remember, just saying the words made feel powerful, like he has a storm lodged in his throat that he could unleash if he so wished. It is a feeling he was seldom accustomed to, he for years lived without magic as he was born without magic, yes Harry Evens is a squib, a child of magical parents without magic of his own. But that doesn't mean he is helpless.

During an exploration of an ancient burial site his mother encountered a group of people who lived separate from the rest of the world, much like the Magical Communities, save that this one was more of a warrior society called Jorrvaskr. They lived and died by the sword and a code of conduct and honor, for a strange reason Harry thought they reminded him of wolves almost. While Lily excavated the site, they agreed to keep an eye on him. Those few months were the best in Harry's life, they were a little stand-offish at first but when Harry got into a fight with one of the local boys two years his senior they welcomed him with open arms, declaring that he possessed a warrior's heart. The boy was the son of the Harbinger, the advisory leader of their tribe, after he got over his broken pride, (and nose) he begged his father to let Harry be trained with him.

To this day Harry has no idea if Eric, that's the boy's name, was trying to get his revenge on Harry or not by getting him to be trained. The Harbinger was no slouch when it came to training, he was a brutal taskmaster when he wasn't having Harry practicing drills and exercises he would a have the two boys spar experience being the best teacher and all that jazz. Aside form the training the best thing to happen to him during his stay at Jorrvaskr was meeting Eric's sister Lydia, she was a bit of a tomboy and the two developed a bit of a rivalry during training, but the two became fast friends over a game of hide-n'-seek. It was a sad day when Harry had to leave Jorrvaskr with his mother, but at least he always returns on the summer solstice to spend a few weeks with the father, brothers and sisters that he never really had. The people of Jorrvaskr refer to each other as 'Shield-Siblings' they are a family aside from his mother Harry's only family. He really misses her, Lydia, lately he started having yearnings for her, something more than the current status of friends. When the hell is going to get the courage to admit it to her that he loves her?

Harry was going to call it a night but then his mother came in after knocking of his door, "Another sleepless night?" she sat down beside him on his bed. Harry avoided her gaze, his pride as a Shield-Sibling refused to show this kind of weakness, or any kind. Sometimes it astounded Lily how much and how little he resembled like his father, like his father he has unruly black hair, but it was _wild_, unlike his father who possessed fair skin Harry developed a strong, healthy tan from years of being out in the sun.

"I feel like an insomniac." Harry admitted, "I think it's from the fact that tomorrow we might unearth the greatest discovery since the Veil of Death or King Tutankhamun."

Lily smiled, even though she knew her son well enough to know when he is lying, "Well get some sleep, or at least try to, tomorrow is a big day."

Before she left Harry asked, "What the hell did you see in him?" her heart sank, Harry only used that tone when talking about his father.

"I thought he had changed, for the better, I honestly thought he was above what he did."

"Apparently not." He grumbled through his fingers.

"I won't go back to him Harry if that is what's worrying you."

Harry shook his head, he knew his mother is strong, "It isn't." he looked at his mother, two identical sets of eyes meting, "Goodnight."

_**Tomorrow…**_

Harry stood above the beautiful diagram that his mother had spent the past week cleaning and cataloging. He has to admit that he has never seen such a magnificent piece of work; Aztecs eat your heart out. The center of the diagram was already wet with his mother's blood as she insisted on going first but Harry would not be denied second chance, casually he drew his sword and holding his left hand over the center of the diagram he brought the blade to his palm and with a very small tug drew enough blood for it to splash down onto the circle. At first nothing happened to Harry's disappointment, he really didn't want to destroy the doors, but then with a rumbling sound the ground shook as the hidden gears and mechanisms in the walls caused the great door to raise just stared in fascination, first at the door then at his hand, was it really his blood that open the door, was _he_ _Dovahkiin_, or was this just a delayed reaction from his mother's blood, so many questions raced through his head he needed a traffic light to control them.

Lily was staring at her son with a sense of pride and fear, pride because if he did posses the power of the _Dovahkiin_ whatever it is, then Harry has a rare gift, fear for what will happen if James Potter or Dumbledore catch wind of this. Dumbledore has a habit of collecting people with unique talents, much like professor Slughorn, but Dumbledore would want to put those talents to a frontline use, during the war he used all the animagi at his disposal to spy on the Death Eaters while he made Remus and Alastair the head trackers for Remus's werewolf sense of smell and Moody's magical eye. Lily may not know what the _Thu'um_ is or what it is to be _Dovahkiin_ but if a fabled hero possessed it according to Harry's translations it would be like possessing the strength of Hercules, or the invincibility of Achilles, it would be irresistible to Dumbledore.

Bill just whistled, "I guess there is more to you than meets the eye, Harry." Inside he was just as scared for the former Potter as Lily was, he was no fool when it came to the machinations of Dumbledore, that old goat as got his entire family wrapped around his little finger and to his disgrace they are okay with it. Last he heard his sweet baby sister is pining after the Boy-Who-Lived and Dumbledore seemed to be encouraging it, it made feel physically ill that this kind of thing is going on and his family wont even listen to him when he tells them about what he feels towards his former Headmaster. At least he has got this little makeshift family, Lily is like an older sister figure or an Aunt to him while Harry is like a kid brother, when one earns the loyalty of a Weasley you can count on said Weasley to treat you like family. "An intact tomb, that is rare." He walked towards the door but stopped at its mouth and turned to Harry, "Common Harry, you opened it O' great and mighty _Dovahkiin._" He finished in a dramatic voice while bowing to him theatrically.

With tentative steps harry walked into the large chamber, the moment his foot touched the floor the entire room lit up as bright as day, he could not believe his eyes, "By Talos." He breathed the old term he picked up in Jorrvaskr, the room was filled with armor of various kinds, some made from hide and others from what looked like dragon-scales, swords ranging from simple iron to alloys he could not name without examining them, maces and axes of similar qualities lined the walls in display racks, bows and arrows could be found here and there. Old wooden shelves held heavy leather bound books, not unlike the ones Harry found on his other travels, there was enough here to fill a library, maybe half of the Hogwarts library, but chances are that these books are far rarer and twice and twice as valuable than anything he would find at that school. Strange looking artifacts contained in glass display cases caught Harry's attention as he got closer, his mother and Bill were trying to pick their jaws of the floor at the entrance, some of them looked rather evil like a mace with many sharp points and a staff with three open mouths at the head.

He ran his hand over the glass lids marveling at the craftsmanship of not just the object contained within but at the cases as well, the Forerunners were more advanced then he had thought, they had learned to make glass and steel, even chainmail, and machinery. Once again the thought of 'what happened to them?' popped through his head. He flet a strange hum from several of the weapons and realized to his amazement that they were enchanted, even though Harry is not a wizard he did learn how to detect the magic in things from his foster family. Enchantments is one of the many lost arts of the old world, to bestow a unique gift on something is a form of art long thought dead like the secrets of Egyptian magic. He casually let his eyes roam throughout the room along the wall seeing all the treasures of the ancient lost world until he saw a bare stretch. It was kind of hard to miss as the large bare area was like a vacuum that drew his eyes in, then he noticed something it was kind of hard to see at first but he saw that what he first mistook for natural indentations in the rock face was actually the strange Cuniform-like writing that he has never been able to make heads and tales of.

He cocked his head to one side, is it his imagination or were the spiky words just shimmering. Curious, Harry put one foot in front of the other drawing nearer and nearer to the mural, the light around him seemed to grow dim as strangely enough the words grew brighter and brighter in a myriad of warm, blue colors. He tried to turn away, but the allure of power was beyond anything he could imagine, he was like a deer caught in the headlights of an eighteen wheeler; unable to move out of danger. That's when he heard it, the chanting, the same chanting that has been haunting his dreams for the past few months, softly at first but quickly reached a crescendo, he could vaguely hear his mother and Bill calling out for him but he lost the power to respond. The entire wall exploded in a shower of brilliant warm light that swiftly formed into hundreds of tendrils and past through Harry. With his arms outstretched he tipped backwards as he fell to the floor…

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_**Cliffy!**_

_**I know, I know you all hate cliffies but the next chapter is just one mouse click away so stop your bitching and start clicking.**_

_**A.N. I am going through a lot with work, training and writer's blocks so my updates will be always a little delayed. Just so you all know.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Well I told you that the next chapter was here, but did you believe me… apparently so. Anyway here it is and for the record there will be flashback chapters to inform on Harry's life and things will be moving at a fast pace anyone who played Skyrim knows how fast those quests could move.**_

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_**Some time later…**_

"_**DOVAHKIIN!"**_

Harry sat bolt upright in bed once more in a cold sweat, an action he soon regretted he felt very weak and sore he fell back into bed and closed his eyes taking deep breaths as he started to feel light-headed. He slowly looked around the room and recognized the mess that was a cross between his possessions and miscellaneous archeological artifacts he laid clam to. He was in his bed at the house his team is staying at in Denmark, just how long was he out for, felt like a while, he is starving to the point where he can eat a horse; saddle, rider and all. He tried to sit up again but found he did not have the energy this time, truth is he felt like the time when he accidently ate a pot brownie, a _really_ potent one, he was high for two days and all of the Jimmy Hendrix songs he ever heard made sense to him, he never felt so enlightened but at the same time he never felt so shitty.

"Oh, I wish I felt that good." He grumbled remembering that time. He heard light footfalls quick-walking for his room, he turned his head to the door as two people entered the room, one was his mother, Lily, the other one he was genuinely surprised to see. It was a girl about his age with deep short brown-red hair who at height stood a little shorter than him, with the most stunning honey-colored eyes. She is dressed in a pair of tight-fitting cut high jeans a white mussel-shirt that hugged her body like a second skin and a vest made out of dragon hide, and hanging from a belt at her sides were a pair of very handsome dirks.

Harry's eyes focused on the girl's face before he asked, "Lydia?"

Quicker than *that* _(snap of the fingers)_ Lydia, rushed over to Harry and instead of embracing him as one would expect she grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him up so that he was staring her dead in the face. "What the fuck where you thinking, you jackass?!" she shouted, not something one would do to someone who just woke up in Harry's condition, whatever it is. "You go into a weapons vault half-cocked, and got yourself caught in the middle of some sorcery, when we get back to Jorrvaskr I am going to personally demand my father to put you in the pit, whelp!"

There are some women who have rather unorthodox ways of displaying affection, and for Lydia the daughter of the Harbinger of Jorrvaskr, her way when she is worried is to slap a hand rather then hold it. Getting riled up is just her way of showing that she cares, being the daughter of the Harbinger she has her pride so showing weakness of any kind in rarely on her agenda.

Refusing to back down from her Harry used what little strength he had to glare back at her, "Who are you calling a whelp, last I checked we are the same age."

It was an angle Harry played on Lidia on these meetings whenever she called him 'whelp' he would remind her of the lack in seniority, as Harry is older than her by two days

"You little snot." She muttered as she let go of him and Harry fell back onto the bed. Lily smiled as she let the whole greeting/near-fight play out, even though she wanted to she didn't fuss over him; Harry's pride would be damaged especially in-front of Lidia.

"How are you feeling, sweetie?" Harry glared at Lydia daring her to laugh; she did smirk but aside form that said and did nothing.

"Like I was hit by a train." Harry muttered, it was not far off the mark, his head was throbbing like his heart was trying to push all of his blood into his brain.

"You should be so lucky next time." Lydia snarled, "Do you have any idea what were in those cases you found?" when Harry shook his head in the negative she continued, "Daedric artifacts, powerful ones, even a couple pertaining to the more vile of their pantheon you are damn lucky you had the sense not to touch the artifacts or you would have made them aware of you."

Harry started at the two words that came out of her mouth; _'Daedric' _how does she know at word? More importantly; does she know what it means? She must have caught the look on his face because she sighed and mumbled something about really sticking his foot in it. "How do you know about that?" he asked. Lily bit her lip to keep herself from protesting that Harry shouldn't worry about it yet, but her son can prove to be as stubborn as she at times, and also like her he hates to be kept in the dark.

Lidia took a breath to cam down; she knew she shouldn't have snapped at her best friend like that, it was a part of her personality that she still needed to rein in. Harry only learned how to fight and knew a few tidbits of lore and almost no history from Jorrvaskr as it usually fell to the child's sire or mother to teach them non-combative lessons. She grabbed a chair from among the mess that is staked in the room and sat next to Harry. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you but I guess my father forgot you were an outsider in the beginning."

"Why? What does that have to do with anything?" Lily asked.

"It usually falls to the father to teach his children about the past, or the mother. I guess my father forgot that you didn't know, Ms Evens." She didn't miss the small glare from Harry at the mention of his father, there was a small compliment in there that Harry made such an impression on the people of Jorrvaskr that they saw him as one of their own.

Lydia saw that Lily was very interested in what she had to say as well, it is quite unnerving having a prominent historian like Lily Evens hanging on your every word. "I wish I could tell you everything but there are some things father has to tell you in person, I just came here to invite you back to Jorrvaskr over the summer is all." She sat next to his bed and rested a hand on his shoulder. It was a dance they have been doing for some time now, they try to hide the fact they care, _really care_, for each-other but both, despite being battle-trained warriors, were afraid to confess to each-other. So they hide it to the best of their abilities, but their best is what Lily would call blatantly obvious, and she does even now.

'_Would one of you just get it over with already so I could start planning your wedding?!'_ she thought, even though she is worried about her son's condition she is glad he found someone worthy of him. Lydia is a great girl. _'Oh, they would make beautiful children.'_ She thought dreamily. _'But not for a while yet, still young.'_

Harry and Lydia got a shiver down their spines, and Harry caught a glazed scary look in his mother's eyes, he did not like that look, she only gets it when she is doing some serious plotting.

"We'll talk later, I promise." She rested a quivering hand on Harry's shoulder.

_**Several days later…**_

The headache and soreness that plagued Harry was finally gone after days of feeling like one big bruise, he is finally ready to get more proactive. For the last few days he has been going over and cataloging the _huge_ pile of treasure they liberated form the vault, on the bright side the plunder was already pretty much organized so sorting through the pile is not a concern. Lydia helped out as much as she can taking over the armory inventory, she is a quick study and rather good with numbers, Harry took over the religious relics and the ancient books, just looking at the tomes gave him a migraine at the thought of having to translate the lot. He is so hiring an assistant.

Bill and Lily came to the conclusion that there is no way in hell that they would be able to keep all of their swag in the house, the vault is at least five to ten times bigger than their rented residence, deciding that there was no alternative, aside from leaving the booty open for thieves, Bill Weasley left to open a Master Vault at Gringotts. The Master Vault is the highest level of security at the goblin bank and the most expensive, the features include an enlargement charm to store whatever is needed to protect, and the only way to access the vault is to place one's hand on the door just like with a high security vault at the English branch but only the renters could open it. But as money is a limited resource at the moment they might have to barter with the Goblins.

Harry tied his boots after dressing in slakes, cotton t-shirt, and a light-weight jacket, he was ready to go downstairs when he heard something was off. Was it his imagination or was that a man's voice he hears, no wait, _voices_. He takes his sword off the bedside table and buckles it around his waist and ties on a dirk as well, his mother said nothing about visitors. He quietly opened the door and staying in a crouch, sneaked his way to the top of the stairs where he could hear the conversation happening below him;

"Why can't you just see reason?" an elderly voice asked, "The bonds of the family is what will empower Hayden to defeat Voldemort, he needs you more than Harold ever will."

"His name is _Harry_," his mother snapped, what was going on? He never heard his mother talk like that to anyone, "and what right do you have to tell me which son is more important?"

'_Which son?_' Harry thought, then he realized, this man must be here on behalf of the Order, he gritted his teeth and grabbed at the handle of his dirk.

"Lily," a third voice spoke, this one sounded familiar, familiar and arrogant, "he is a squib, the kindest thing we can do for him is to banish him from our world, why can't you just see that?"

A crashing sound like someone threw a glass container at something, "You watch your mouth Wizard or I'll run you through." Lydia snarled, Harry could just imagine her with her own dirks drawn and ready to fight.

Harry crept down the stairs far enough so he could see the intruders. The room that he and his 'family' converted into a storage-space/workstation is packed to the ceiling with wooden crates and boxes filled with their plunder from the vault, sheets of parchment that listed their contents were pilled on small desks with numerous extra rolls laying at the ready. There were three people he did not recognize; one, an old man, was dressed in gaudy robes with a pointy hat, a middle aged man with black hair and wearing fine robes that looked like reminiscent of a business suit, and the third was a boy his age also with black hair and wearing fine robes. He wondered who these intruders were in the corner of the room just out of site of the others, he saw the youngest of the group actually dip his hand into a crate and tried to pull out one of the artifacts without anyone noticing; a beautiful sword that radiated light out of the hilt.

'_Oh, no you don't.' _ Harry thought as he stealthily hopped to the bottom of the stairs pulled out his dirk and threw it end over end until it embedded itself in the boy's sleeve and the wall. The loud ~_thunk~_ brought everyone's attention to the source of the noise and several reactions; Lydia growled and brought out her own knife, Lily looked like she wanted to lay into the thief, the man looked outraged for a different reason, and the old one looked mildly surprised. The thief looked over at the source of the dirk's origin and found Harry and their eyes locked. Harry saw the boy's features were nearly identical to his own, save that his hair is shorter, his skin is paler, his nose turned up slightly and his eyes are hazel, not green.

"Are you nuts!?" the thief shrieked at Harry, who shrugged.

"I'm not nuts, I'm Harry." Harry introduced himself, "And you're lucky, in the more civilized old cultures I would be well within my rights to cut off your hand for stealing my spoils." He hissed at the end, drawing his sword fully out of its scabbard. The little thief nearly wet himself; no-one had the gall to threaten him like this; with a sword, and the way he carried himself was unlike the swagger that usually accompanied wizards.

"Do you have any idea who I am, Muggle?" He sneered weakly, trying to wrench the dirk free.

"Someone who tried to steal my property." Harry growled as he walked over and rested the artifact from his lookalike; the sword started to glow as fiercely as the sun but twice as bright. "This sword is enchanted, if you had unsheathed it who knows what would have happened, might have possessed you for all I know."

"Now Harry," the old man addressed him in a grandfatherly tone, "there is no need for hostility here, he is family after all."

Harry got a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach as he looked at his near-double, as he studied the features of the wizard old foggy memories came flooding back to him, a play mate in a playpen, giggling, happy, inseparable, a name 'Hayda' caught in his throat. If he is here then, could the other man be? A fury rose up in him, as he turned to the third wizard after all these years this bastard, this son-of-a-bitch, dared to track them down? With a practiced motion he flipped the sword artifact around and grabbed the hilt, consequences be damned, with a flick of his wrist sent the sheath flying off the blade. The blade looked to be made out of pure light wrought into a shape it seemed to almost vibrate in his hand as all the other lights in the room seemed to dim by comparison.

"Harry." Lily placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, being his mother she knew his warrior's heart would demand retribution from this monster that is his father, but if Harry attacks him he would be charged with assault of a head of a Noble House, he would be a wanted man in Britian. He started to breath normally again relaxing the grip on his swords.

"Yeah, don't worry," Lidia stood proudly next to him, "Shield-Siblings stand together, the Companions are your Family, and we won't let this quarter-pint, jinx-flinger touch you."

"Stay out of this, woman, this is family business, my mother is coming home with me and father now…"

Harry suddenly turned around in a blur and slammed the flat of his blade into Hayden's temple, he watched without any remorse as his twin fell in a crumpled heap on the floor. "No-one tells my mother what to do." he spat, Lily and Lidia backed away from the boy, he was now locked in a rage. Lily only saw this before when he was locked in a fight with a powerful _Draugr_ when it turned it's blade on her it was like Harry changed, he only cared about utterly destroying the threat. It was the only time she had ever been afraid of her son, acting on instinct, he is now a dragon in human form, fierce and unstoppable and she does not know what is going to happen.

James was stunned speechless, no one ever raised a hand against his son, no-one had the nerve and now a squib knocked him unconscious, and why does Lily, one of the bravest witches he ever knew, who fought on equal grounds with Bellatrix LeStrange, look scared of this squib?

Dumbledore almost took a step back, this was not how he predicted things would turn out, he wanted to get the Potter clan back together, and maybe with a few of these choice artifacts Lily discovered to add to his weapons arsenal. But now he was looking at something that made him afraid, about what he does not know, but the way the boy is looking at him and the Potters one would think that he was a dragon choosing which sheep to devour first. "P-please," Dumbledore drew his wand on the ready in case this gets nasty, "put those swords down, Harry, there is no need for violence."

Harry's eyes narrowed at the old man, was it Dumbledore's imagination or did his eyes glow gold for a second? "No need for violence? Tell that to Vernon Dursely the bastard who be**et me near to DEATH!" **his chest started to rumble like a thunderclap is stirring somewhere deep inside, he breathed in the rumbling growing louder and louder until;_**"ZUNHAALVIIK**_**!"** he shouted at Dumbledore, a blast of air swept over the old man and for some reason his wand was wrenched from his grasp as well as his deilluminator, then he shouted again; "_**SUGRAHDUN**_**!**" Harry rushed forward in a fury of limbs, Dumbledore and James couldn't believe what they are seeing, for failed to see, Harry's arms moved so fast, faster then what any human should be capable of. James who had not been disarmed by whatever that spell was raised his wand to subdue Harry only for his wand to be reduced to splinters under the whirlwind of blades, and to receive sharp whacks on the knees and the head as well as Dumbledore.

Lily stood frozen as her son shouted those strange words and did what she thought was impossible, twice; he disarmed Dumbledore who had never lost a duel and brought him and her ex-husband down to their knees. What is this magic? Is this the _Thu'um_ the power that the writings spoke of, does it have something to do with the light that passed through Harry in the vault, or both? "'With a Voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art, believe, believe the Dragonborn comes.'" Lydia whispered in awe beside her. Lily looked at the teen girl who she secretly approved of for Harry; she has a look of wonder on her face like she could not believe what she is seeing.

Harry stood above the two wizards with the tip of a blade at each of their necks; Dumbledore's beard was cut off so that Harry could see the man's throat. Dumbledore's mind was reeling with planes that could be put into use if he could get this boy into the Order, whatever this power is it is formidable, and if a squib can use it… oh the possibilities in the hands of a proper wizard. He stared down the blade that seemed to be made of light, he wondered what powers it possessed, and of the powers of whatever this squib found in this little expedition, Voldemort won't stand a chance.

As if he knew his thoughts, Harry pressed the tip of his blade against Dumbledore's throat, "Don't even think about it." Harry had to admire the old man's nerve; he could see the wheels in his mind spin despite being at the mercy of an angry Shield-Brother.

Unnoticed to everyone Hayden had regained conscience and through his haze he saw everything, jealousy raced through his skinny form as he witnessed his lesser twin use magic that _he_ should have, _he _is the one who deserves it, _he_ is the Boy-Who-Lived. He slipped his wand out of his pocket and slowly rose to his feet not making a noise, he wouldn't dare raise his wand against his mother because of her reputation of being the only witch LeStrange ever feared but the muggle girl is easy pickings. With a whipping motion a length of rope extended from the end of his wand and wrapped itself around her body restricting her movement and with a quick motion brought her in front of him like a human-shield or hostage. Lily took out her wand and turned it on her son sending a disarming and a stunning charm in his direction, but to her shock the two spells glanced off his jacket.

"The lining of my jacket is Namean Lion fur, rarer than rare, impervious to magic." He explained with a grin that one could describe as 'Malfoyish,' Lily felt sick to her stomach that any child of hers would boast about such a terrible thing, the Namean Lions are an endangered species, not to mention the true sigil of the house of Gryffindor, to wear the fur of an endangered animal is by far one of the worst crimes one could commit in her book.

Harry turned his head slowly, he heard every word, his dragon-hazed mind roared in fury and while focusing on his brother he was about to shout again when Lydia slammed her head back into Hayden's nose effectively breaking it. The young wizard stumbled back in shock as his hands went up to hold his broken and bleeding nose, even though Lidia's arms were bound her legs weren't, with a strong back-kick she laid out Hayden sprawled on the floor. Lily with a quick wand motion cut her ropes, with her arms free she drew both her dirks and approached Hayden with a murderous glint in her eyes. Harry smirked; anyone who used magic in a cowardly manner like that deserved whatever comes ten times over. Harry shook his head hard trying to get rid of the dragon-haze, to bring himself back to a more rational side. He breathed, letting all of his battle fury go as he relaxed his arms and stepped away from the two wizards. "Lydia, let him go."

Lydia stopped in her tracks and turned to Harry, "B-but-"

"What they have done, barging in here and all, may be unforgivable in our books but what we will not do is kill them when we have already soundly defeated them because that will lower us, we are warriors not murderers." Harry reminded her of one of the codes of conduct that was taught to him by the Harbinger during his training, even though he himself had nearly forgotten it. Besides, he couldn't kill or let his own twin be killed.

James got up and collected his son while Dumbledore retrieved his wand and deilluminator, as arrogant as the wizards are; they are cowards who hide behind their wands and spells. Encountering a force like Harry is something that they were unprepared for. Albus tried once more to make Lily change her mind, but the shake of her head was all the confirmation he got, James shot Harry a dirty look like he would like nothing more than to avenge his family honor but a calm glare from Lydia kept him from saying or doing anything rash. They left with a small *pop* as they disappeared.

Harry fell to his knees, despite the strong front he put up he was still weak from the magic that assailed him in the vault, it took all of his willpower and lessons beaten into him during training to stay on his feet. Lydia was by his side in an instant keeping him from falling forward, she let her sword clatter to the floor while she helped Harry to his feet and assisted his to the living room couch where she let him down gently. His head was spinning as he found it hard to focus on any one thing, he felt nauseous and his throat is raw like someone shoved sandpaper down his gullet. He vaguely noticed that he still had his swords in his hands and hardly noticed Lydia pry his fingers open to relieve him of his weapons.

Lily came into the room his a glass of water and after handing it to Harry felt his forehead; a fever was burning, it must be some exertion from the _thu'um, _sometimes extreme excess of magic can leave the body fevered. She forced back some tears in her eyes, as much as she is disgusted with how James allowed Hayden to turn out like that she could not bring herself to grow cold to her younger son despite his attitude. It hurt her to see her sons fighting like that and James's callous words made her feel violated that she ever allowed him to touch her. _Harry is special,_ she knows it deep in her bones, her father once told her that there is more to magic than just casting spells, there is a magic far mightier then what any wand or wizard can harness it is the magic that creates heroes. Harry possesses this power, sometimes when she sees him practice his swordplay till he is swimming in sweat she can almost catch a glimpse of what he will become.

Lydia had left the room to fetch a cold wash-cloth and returned to place it on Harry's brow making him lay his head back so it won't slide off. She would have asked Harry how he felt but he was nearly incoherent, his green eyes are glazed over as if he was kissing the sky. She shook her head sadly, the _thu'um_, the power that has been whispered about in her home Jorrvaskr, Harry is _dovakiin_, dragonborn. Tears started to form in her eyes as more of the significance of this discovery meant for Harry; the dragonborn, by his honor, is sworn to keep evil forever at bay. It would be his duty to fight evil in all its forms. But looking at his flushed face, and panting breath she remembered, he is her Shield-Brother he will not fight alone.

"_**Who dared to hold my relic?"**_ Lily and Lydia jumped at the sudden unexpected voice, Lily whipped out her wand ready to cast the first curse and Lydia held both her dirks at the ready, Harry being exhausted, was only lucid enough to scan the room with his eyes. _**"Tell me, who are you to test me mortal? To dare to wield the Dawnbreaker without my consent?"**_

A sphere of light appeared in the room catching them all off guard, Lily casted a banishing charm at it but the light of the spell seemed to be absorbed into it, Lydia, Harry faintly noticed, was scared, a rare sight, her hands are shaking and her brow is beading with sweat. What is going on? Why is Lydia terrified of this ball of light?

The sphere of light started to stretch and morph into a human shape but a little taller so that the head almost reached the ceiling. When the light dimmed, it showed a woman, a tall and fierce woman with long white hair and skin that glowed, her robes looked fit for nobility and are far finer then anything the three humans ever saw, they seemed to be made of starlight.

Lily seeing the visage of the being before her remembered a statue in her likeness by ancient Greek wizards, "Hera?" the being turned to her with a look that was neither amused or offended.

"_**I am not Hera, though your kind have called me that, I am Meridia, the Daedric Prince of Light and the Living, Matriarch of the Colored Rooms, and Foe to all those who defy Death."**_her tone rang with authority, this was a power to respect even fear in his heart Harry knew to fight this being would mean his instant obliteration. The deity saw the Dawnbreaker, the sword that seemed to be made of light, on the floor before Harry then she looked at Harry's hand then finally, she reached over to his brow and brushed aside his bangs revealing a jagged scar shaped like a lightning bolt. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as Harry's scar burned like it was being sliced open with a rusty butter knife. Lily and Lydia tried to move Harry away from the Daedra as he grunted in pain, but they were frozen in place by the being's overwhelming power.

"_**ABOMINATION!" **_she roared, the Dawnbreaker rose in the air bringing its tip to Harry's lightning-shaped scar and lightly pierced it, fire ignited running up and down the pink tissue black smoke billowing out like a factory furnace. _**"How dare a mortal create such a vile, dark magic, on another living being it is beyond redemption."**_ Her voice became cruel and cold, the smoke vanished with a paralyzing scream and Harry fell into sweet blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

_**And there you all have it, please don't hate me, I tired my best.**_

_**The reason Harry did the two complete shouts is because of a spell carved into the wall along with the words, the knowledge of the words was absorbed into Harry as well, yes I know that this will make him very powerful but if it's of any consolation, he won't be able to shout at will until he gets some practice. And no he will not be a werewolf due to the lifting of the Hagravens' curse. **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Before I forget, Declaimer: I own neither Harry Potter or Skyrim.**_

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Green eyes opened to a roof he was not expecting; it is not the white of the ceiling he grew accustomed to in Denmark, the roof and walls were made from quality timber and the smell of wood and wood-smoke is heavy in the air. He carefully moved to sit up, not wanting to aggravate any possible injuries and realized he was under not sheets and quilts but furs. He quickly looked around and spotted weapons racks, stocked book shelves, a dresser and a trunk a the foot of his bed. He spotted sword that lay atop the bed-side cabinet; it was not his Viking sword but the artifact from the vault, Dawnbreaker, the sword of light.

He quickly did the math; timber + wood-smoke + armor + fur blankets = "Jorrvaskr." He breathed, a smile forming on his lips, he was home. But how did he get here? Stupid question, Lydia must've taken him and his mum here after that strange being came out of nowhere… he quickly jumped out of bed and unsheathed Dawnbreaker in a ready stance ready in case that Daedra, as she called herself, comes back.

Harry heard the door creak open and turned sharply to see Lydia standing dead in her tracks, she is dressed in elk-hide trousers, leather boots and a bear fur-lined jerkin a look that made her naturally beautiful and deadly with both her dirks strapped to her hips, she looked like a deer in the headlights her face started to glow red and her eyes grew wide. She finally opened her mouth, "By Talos." She whispered.

Confused, Harry followed her eyes to his neither-regions and realized that he is in full glory, naked as a Greek statue, he quickly turned around then realized that she is seeing his butt instead; quickly he grabbed a fur from the bed and covered himself up.

"Does this mean the two of you are engaged now?" Harry, having covered himself modestly, turned to see his mother who had just arrived with a grin on her face as she draped an arm around Lydia. "So when's the wedding?" she teased.

"MUM!"/"Ms EVENS!" the two teens shouted at the same time, both as red as radishes as Harry's mother laughed. This is ammo for sure, Lily will never let this go; she could tell that Lydia was still thinking about what she had just seen and is starting to get a little daydream about it. Lily is not worried, she had given her son 'The Talk' years ago and trusts him not to do the wrong thing and go for a roll in the hay with Lydia, and even if that does happen, he would take responsibility, and she'll have a grandchild to spoil. She smiled as she plotted to push their relationship to the 'proposal stage' maybe she could get Lydia's parents involved, that would speed up the process for sure, they could be cutting the cake by the end of the year.

Once more Harry and Lydia felt a cold shiver down their backs, and Harry was proof positive that it was not due to a draft, Lydia, as flushed as she is, felt a twinge of fear.

'_What is this devilry?' _they wondered together.

After Lily and Lydia excused themselves from the room, Harry dressed, putting on a cotton undershirt under a tan leather vest trimmed with black bear-fur, he slipped on a pair of tan hide trousers and leather boots. He went ahead and strapped on a pair of black-bear-skin bracers and strapped on the only sword in the room, the Dawnbreaker. Normally he would not touch the thing but what ever that being, the Daedra, was she could have killed him and taken back _her_ sword as she claimed it, but Harry is taking a leap on his gut instinct that he now has her stamp of approval if it's still in his presence and he is not being roasted alive for touching it.

He rested his hand on the hilt of the sword as he remembered a bit of the incident; the blade rose up and pierced his scar, the lightning scar that never fully healed. She had said something about an abomination, and a vile dark magic that is beyond redemption. What was that all about? Something is wrong here, that much he could ascertain, his mother and Lydia are acting like nothing has happened, like they did not meet a being that was once worshiped as a god.

"_**That is because they do not remember meeting me."**_

Harry spun around, Dawnbreaker in his hand, trying to locate the voice's origin; he remembers that imperious and cold tone. The Daedra is here.

"_**Be still, Dovahkiin, I mean you no harm, lest you bring upon yourself."**_ The voice seemed to come from all over the room.

"Am I to take the word of a demon that won't even show itself?" he asked slightly irritated, "At least do me the courtesy of showing your face, what you are doing is considered to be extremely rude even to an enemy, not to mention cowardly."

His taunt had results; the Daedra revealed herself in a flash of light just as she appeared before in her robes and her proud and noble face had a look that could freeze fire. _**"Brazen impudence, I have killed so many for so little, mind where you are and who you address, mortal, I may be a Daedra, a 'demon' as you call me, but I was once a Devine, an Aedra, so mind your tongue if you like where it is." **_She hissed.

Harry knew he should show fealty and bend his knee to her but the thought of it repulses him, he has his warrior pride after all. "You could have killed me for daring to wield your sword," he held out Dawnbreaker, "so what's to stop you from killing me now? I am powerless against you, so go on, and punish me for my 'impudence.'"

Meridia stared at Harry while he awaited her wrath, then she tilted her head back and laughed, heartily, Harry is puzzled, why isn't she mad? _**"You have fire, that's good you are going to need it for the quest I have in store for you, the first Daedric Quest in thousands of years."**_ She smiled at Harry, not a comforting smile but the smile of someone who bet on the right horse at the track. _**"But I know that the world has forgotten about us, you would not know what a Daedra is, please sit."**_ Harry sat at the foot of his bed deciding that it would be best to hear what the Daedra of Light and Life has to say. _**"Do not worry; time in our presence moves slower at our will, only a few seconds will pass in your time for what I will have to say."**_ Harry felt like a grade-schooler waiting for the lesson to begin, well, considering the _huge_ age gap between the mortal and the Daedra, it seemed only natural. _**"The Daedra Princes, or Lords if you prefer, are the most powerful of the Daedra race or Daemons as the Greeks called us, we were worshiped as gods, lesser gods in the eyes of the Aedra, the Divines. In reality I am neither male nor female, none of us have a gender, we only appear to be one or the other, our appearance is created by our true nature, as I rule over Light and Life you perceive me as a radiant being. The others, most of them, have forms of a less than savory nature; in fact the imagery of Lucifer in Christianity was inspired by Sanguine, Lord of Debauchery, Master of Sins and Patron of Whore-houses."**_

Harry winced, "Sounds like a real charmer."

"_**Indeed he his, much lore about the Devil has been inspired by him and Sithis, Ruler of the Void, or Hell as you call it."**_

"How many of you are there?"

"_**Not that many, but what we lack in quantity we make up for in quality as you humans would say. Among the many tomes you have liberated form the vault you will find one written by the Last Dragonborn, it would be best if you read it before all others as my brethren will undoubtedly become aware of your presence. You must be ready for not all of them are trustworthy and benevolent."**_

Harry listened intently to the warning.

"_**As a rule we would present our champions with favors, the Dawnbreaker I gave to the Last Dragonborn of Tamriel as a reward for purifying my temple of a **_**Necromancer.**_**"**_ she spat the word as if it has a very bitter taste, Harry understood; a necromancer is a violator of the dead, to raise the dead is heresy in Meridia's eyes, if her introduction is anything to go by.

"Wait a minute," Harry held his hand up, "why did you…" he wanted to say 'freak out' but decided to try and be more, less formal, "get angry when you saw my scar on my forehead, you screamed 'abomination' and cut it with this sword." His other hand held up Dawnbreaker.

Meridia examined Harry closely,_** "How did you get that scar? Who performed that magic?"**_ he voice became cold and eerie.

"It's a souvenir from an attack." Harry stated simply, he never really like talking about the night when Voldemort attacked, nightmares still plagued his dreams about those red eyes and cold laughter, "when I was a year old, a dark wizard, Voldemort, tried to kill my family, all I know is that he immobilized my parents so they could watch as he kills my brother and I. But something happened and he literally exploded, taking half the room with him, this scar was cut by some debris, at least that is what I was told." He subconsciously rubbed the faint line on his head as once again he envisioned the green light.

"_**A spell was cast on you, dark magic that was somehow averted, but it still left its mark upon you, the scar contained an evil fragment of the wizard's soul your scar was an anchor to cheat death; a Horcrux," **_Meridith's tone became so cold that Harry was sure he would freeze,_** "fell magic conceived by the necromancer Malyn Varen, a way to store your soul into an object to delay death, it is an affront to nature, an abomination."**_

Harry stood shocked; all this time he was carrying a piece of Voldemort's soul? He was a Horcrux? He felt dirtied, sullied, there is so much for him to take in, the foulest and darkest objects in the known world, he knew full well about the creation of such devices and the kind of people who would make them, his mother made him memorize a list that consisted of the different kinds of dark objects and quizzed him for years on how to recognize them. He just stared at Dawnbreaker dumbly. "Why did you cut me with this sword?"

"_**As blessed and created by my power, the Dawnbreaker has the power to kill the undead in all their forms, be they draugr, vampire, even Horcrux's are susceptible to its power. The fragment within your scar is gone, your body is once more your own."**_

"N-no there must be a mistake," Harry denied, "Voldemort cursed my brother, Hayden, he is the Boy-Who-Lived, not me, and I'm not even a wizard," Harry tried to keep the world from slipping out from under his feet; everything he built in his life was from the fact that he was free from the machinations of the wizarding world, that he is just Harry.

"_**I make no mistakes, which is why I chose you for this quest, if you should accept it; Kill the creature Voldemort and all his anchors. For this purpose you may wield Dawnbreaker, but I give warning; do not use any of the other artifacts lest the Daedra become aware of your presence Dragonborn."**_

Harry shook his head, "No, you don't want me, I'm not a wizard, it's not my fight, it's not my war and I want no part in it." Meridia vanished, Harry stood up and searched the room with his eyes when a wind picked up around him like a small personal tornado, Meridia's face returned filling most of the room with a glare that made Harry feel completely powerless against her.

"_**VOLDEMORT HAS TO DIE! YOU MUST FULFILL YOUR DESTINY AND BRING ABOUT THE DOWNFALL OF HIS EMPIRE, WHICH SLOWLY GROWS LIKE A PLAGUE! IF HE IS NOT STOPPED, THE PRICE TO PAY FOR YOUR FAILURE WILL BE YOUR NEIGHBORS, YOUR FAMILY, EVERYONE! The world is in need of your help Dragonborn, the choice is yours."**_ With that last word the Lady of Light vanished, leaving a stunned Harry with a burden he must shoulder, but he is still denying the fact, the _possibility_ that he could be the true survivor of the killing curse.

* * *

Lydia stood outside the room staring at the wall in a daze; she had no idea that Harry was that well endowed, in truth is was the first time she has ever… _seen_ a man, technically, she has seen nude statues and paintings but seeing the real thing was not what she was prepared for. Even though she is a highly-trained warrior of the Companions of Jorrvaskr she is still a teenage girl with urges and curiosity about the male anatomy. Lily is being rather supportive about the whole thing, she was not angry that her son getting caught with his pants down, or off, it was an accident, she knew that. To try and distract Lydia from her embarrassment Lily started to regale the young warrior with tales of when Harry was a toddler who ran naked through a hotel lobby, a dinner party and of course without his pants on at a restaurant. It actually made her laugh imagining a four-year-old Harry running, naked as a blue jay, through such public places.

Little did she know that Lily Evens was slowly starting to get her interested in Harry in a more intimate way, it was Lily's suggestion that she go and wake Harry up, the being naked thing completely slipped her mind but it worked out all the same. Her plan is simple and devious, the first step is to get Lydia more familiar with Harry's childhood, the cute and embarrassing is the best place to start, then she would proceed to provide small hints into the likes and dislikes of her son, after which she create occasions for the two of them to be together in formal affairs mainly as dates to get them to the boyfriend/girlfriend stage. Once that is done things would go a little easier as they get more comfortable in each-others company, after that she would do some subtle work on the two of them, mostly Harry to get him to realize he needs someone in his life in the long road. If that don't work, well a little Amortentia never hurt nobody. She grinned savagely.

In the planes of Oblivion, Boethiah, the Prince of Plots, at this moment felt a strange surge of pride for something he could not put his finger on.

Lydia had finally gotten over her little embarrassment when Harry came out of his room dressed like a Companion, the moment she looked at him however she had to bite back a laugh as she imagined a little Harry running naked through the training fields of Jorrvaskr. "I hope you like what you saw, Lydia, because that's the last time." He said with a tone of finality.

"Oh, come on Harry," Lily tisked, "don't be like that, just remember to use _precaution_ next time."

Harry and Lydia both caught on to what she was suggesting in a heartbeat, "MUM/Ms. EVENS!" they shouted turning red.

"Harry, I'm not a prude, I know you are a virile young man and Lydia here is pretty attractive, hormones will get the better of you in one way or another. I'm only suggesting that if the two of you get more… familiar with each-other-"

"MUM!" they both shouted. Harry and his mother has a very open range of conversation, no subject is taboo, which includes sex. Harry understood that the wizarding world where Lily grew up in is chalk-full of old-fashioned values and beliefs; sex is not a topic of discussion as it is viewed as something mysterious and unknown, and many cases vulgar. Parents don't even give their children the Talk because they think it's pornographic. Lily got the Talk when she was eleven, and so knew the dos and don'ts, the truth is she felt like the only one, whenever she returned home for the holidays she would always catch a rumor mill about who is doing what with who, but at Hogwarts all the girls acted like nuns about the subject and the boys would blush and stutter, the closest anyone has ever got to doing anything perverted was a heavy snogging session. When Lily married James she spent a whole year trying to break him of his conditioning, by telling him that sex is not disgusting but a part of the human physiology and psychology, she basically wore the pants in the family. When she did break him in, they both agreed to be more modern about the subject with their children if they ever have any. Lily kept her part of the agreement with Harry but installed the idea that as normal sex is it is just as sacred, that he should only do it with the one he intends to spend the rest of his life with.

Lily saw the sword at her son's hip, the sword of light from the Treasury of the Last Dragonborn, Lydia had told her the little bits and pieces of the history of Jorrvaskr and it's liberation from a curse that turned them into werewolves at the hand of it's greatest Harbinger; the Last Dragonborn. Lily was genuinely surprised to discover that the Companions of Jorrvaskr possessed a very long history that stretched back to the era of her and Harry's interest; Tamriel, more specifically the region of Skyrim. It is thanks to this knowledge that they were able to get more information on the contents of the Treasury, several of the weapons were made at the Skyforge at the hands of a man called Eorlund Grey-Mane, the greatest blacksmith in Skyrim. Among them was a large battle axe with the face of a man or a beast with what looked like antlers branching off to the blades, the axe's name was Wuuthrad, the weapon of their founder, Ysgramor, Lily and the Harbinger have been negotiating a trade for the return of their greatest treasure for the past week and are now in a recess.

Speaking of Bill, he had managed to get an appointment with the head of Gringotts, _the_ head of Gringotts, the entire bank, a very old and powerful orc called Grond, who, a chieftain of the Orsimer, an elite, a _bezrker_. Lily is happy that Harry awoke when he did as they would need the presence of a warrior to handle negotiations as goblins and orcs understand strength and steel above words, not that Lydia wouldn't be any help but Orsimer are a patriarchal race, the word of a male would be heard over a female. They can't ask for anyone of Jorrvaskr to help with negotiations as they did not make the discovery, the goblin law states quite firmly that the right to bargain the plunder of any and all expeditions belong to the one who made the discovery, if the discoverer is female the right goes to their immediate male kin or husband.

* * *

_**Around noon…**_

Lily filled in Harry about the goblin situation the young warrior groaned he never really liked dealing with the goblin nation, in the past he met a tribe that lived in the Himalayas when he got lost when he was fifteen, long story. His stay with them was not easy; they expected him to earn his keep, something that he is used to but they were harsh taskmasters to an outsider, thankfully he is a squib or else he would have been literally worked to death as goblins hate wizards on principle. Their hospitality is none existent as they live rather Spartan lives, and their food is barely edible by human standards, _physical_ standards.

As Lydia was called away by her duties as the daughter of the Harbinger, Harry spent most of the day fiddling with Dawnbreaker and reading/translating books from the vault most of witch had a strange upside-down 'U'-like symbol, as engrossed as he was Lily noticed that he does not have his usual fervor, in truth, he looked like he is not all there. Lily's heart grew a little heavy with worry; could he be thinking about James and Hayden? It was something that she never intended to happen; she had fought for years to be granted joint custody of her younger son but James and Dumbledore's influence was just too wide. She hated James and Dumbledore for what they did to Hayden, especially what they did to his eyes, he had _green_ eyes, just like Harry, they are supposed to be identical twins, _Verum Gemini_, rarest of all magical siblings, inseparable. But now they could not be any more different, is that what's going on with Harry? Is he feeling something from the bond that once existed?

"Well, good to see he's up and about."

Lily and Lydia turned around to find Bill Weasley in the living room with a cup of tea in his hand, he must've just got in because his cloths are dirty and he smelled of raw meet, a goblin preference.

"Bill, you survived." Lydia chirped.

Bill grimaced, "Barely, goblins are mean, but orcs are brutal, the next time I meet one will be with the KGB, and the British Royal Air Force at my back."

Lily grimaced, by the sounds of it he did not have a good week, "Not very cooperative, were they?"

"Oh no, they were cooperative, after they strip-searched me down to my socks even when I surrendered my wand, proceeded to make me wait an hour before being told to wait for another hour, then I had to observe the niceties and refer to them as the Orsimer. After I made them a peace offering, we parlayed for a business arrangement, they only said that they will talk further with Harry as he was the one to open the door."

Lily nodded that sounded like a typical meeting with an Orsimer tribe, in London and other human cities goblins try to abide by human standards as they consider the lands were their banks are human territories but in their strongholds the pecking order is severely reversed. "I don't look forward to telling Harry."

* * *

_**Later in the day…**_

"WHAT!" Harry's shout frightened off a flock of ravens in a nearby tree. Lydia and Lily were rubbing their ears and Bill handed Harry a glass of juniper berry mead, which he downed quickly, a business meeting with an orc could prove bloodier than a straight up fight, it's a battle of wills and wits; a chess game in the dark, for a moment his meeting with Meridia was put out of his mind. He was starting to sweat bullets at the prospect of meeting a _bezrker_, he would rather French a dragon. He sat down hard in a chair after Bill dropped the bombshell.

"Well, you opened Pandora's preverbal box, you got to make the deals with those cutthroats." Bill smiled sympathetically at Harry as he refilled his glass. "But they will respect you because you are a warrior."

"That supposed to help?" Harry growled, draining the glass in one move again, he endured the hospitality of Orsimer once before and that was one time too many, the word 'cutthroat' is the most ideal term there is for them. They have no mercy, and if they can trick you into a miser's deal they will. They have no such thing as a conscience during negotiations, Rumplestiltskin one of their more notorious misers, was living proof of that. "Why, pray tell, do we need to consult them in the first place? Can't we just talk to a Goblin in the Gringotts Switzerland Branch? I mean half their tunnels are made by Dwarves and have more booby traps installed in them than the Royal tomb in Greenland."

Lily shivered at the mention of that place; she swore never to visit that accursed cave again, "Because what we have is more valuable than mere money and trinkets, Harry, the Wizarding World can demand the confiscation of a vault if it is suspect to holding dark objects or stolen properties. But the Master Vault is outside the I.C.W.'s jurisdiction it is purely run by the Orsimer nations."

Harry being Lily's son is pretty sharp in picking up the real reason for his mother's actions, a discovery like this with artifact full of what could be the old magics; a potential arsenal for the war-effort against Voldemort. "You don't want Dumbledore to get his hands on it."

"We do not know the power in those objects, true enchantments are a lost art, if we loose them in a war-front who knows what could happen; remember the legend about the Trident of Poseidon?"

Harry nodded it is not something to easily forget it is a wizarding legend from Rome where Legionnaire Wizards captured the Trident from a shrine to the great sea god and attempted to use it to fight the Greeks only for the raw power of the Trident to cause a raging hurricane that decimated the warzone and caused an earthquake powerful enough to create a tsunami. Blessed or enchanted weapons are in essence weapons of mass terror and destruction, the use of them any one of them could be potentially catastrophic. The Spear of Destiny, that is said to have pierced the side of Christ, was rumored to have given the Nazis power; personally Harry believed it to be the Spear of Lugh. The very legend of the Holy Grail has led to much chaos of bloodshed during the dark ages. Everywhere enchanted relics go blood has a habit of following them like a lost puppy.

Harry grunted as he accepted the fact that the only option, the only save one, is to deposit the whole collection, save for the miscellaneous bits and pieces that rightfully belong to the Companions.

"So what is Grond like?" He asked Bill.

Bill clicked his tongue and said, "Damn right scary."

* * *

_**And there was the update, I am sorry that it took a while to get it up but please don't hate me, I do only what I can. A couple of people asked if Harry will end up in Skyrim, So I'm going to make this as clear as possible; "No" Tamriel is a lost civilization in this fiction like Babylon and Anatolia.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter or Skyrim.**_

* * *

Dumbledore paced the dinning room of Number12 Grimould Place stroking his beard looking pensive while around the table the whole of the Order grumbled and talked about the topics of discussion; after two years of diligent searching they have finally found Lily Potter or Evens as she preferred, along with the squib son Harvey. Her discovery of the ancient trove of weapons as indeed impressive at the time but the boy intrigued him, as far as he knew he showed no sign of accidental magic as a child but he displayed a power that could only be described as astounding. Dumbledore had never heard those spells before, in fact he is sure that he had never even heard of the_ language_, almost all spells are Latin based and extend from the Italic tree, but these words; 'Zunhaalviik' and 'Sugrahdun,' are so guttural and bold sounding that he is sure that they are not the typical Wizarding magic that he is familiar with. He even tried to do the spells with the Elder Wand but nothing happened, to that end he concluded that it must be a completely different form of magic, like house-elves have different magic from… say, a phoenix.

Around the dinning room table sat the rest of the Order of the Phoenix; Minerva McGonnagall, deputy headmistress and his right hand; Alastor 'Mad-eye' Moody, former head of the Auror department and a legendary figure in the last war; Kingsley Shacklebolt, an accomplished Auror in his right and a level-headed strategist; Nymphadora Tonks; a young metamorphmargus and Aruor trainee; Mundungus Fletcher, common thief; Severus Snape, Potions Master and double agent for the Order; Sirius Black, Patriarch of the House of Black and animagus; Remus Lupin, werewolf, the Order's specialist in dark creatures, and contact to the Lycanthrope clans; the Weasley Clan; Molly, Author, Charlie, Ron and Ginny, the latter hanging off the arm of Hayden Potter, and next to him stood his father James Potter.

James is fuming about being defeated by his disowned flesh and blood so easily, and his wand in need of a replacement. Moody gave him an ear-full about letting his guard down just because his opponent was not a wizard, than gave him a lecture about the virtue of constant vigilance. The veteran auror continued to rant under his breath about kids today being too cocky for their own good, and wondering allowed how Potter got to the position of Auror Captain if he underestimates his opponents so readily.

"We have to get those weapons, Albus," the matriarch of the Weasely clan all but shouted, "They rightfully belong to the Wizarding World, that sword the squib used is obviously enchanted, it rightfully belongs to us."

"Yes, yes, Molly," Dumbledore placated the plump redhead in a soothing tone; this thought did not escape him being the bright wizard that he is.

"Getting them? You mean steal?" Remus bluntly said. "Sorry to burst your bubble, Albus, but there is no legal way to get them."

"Actually, Remus," Dumbledore said in a patronizing voice. "I have already presented the demand for them to be confiscated by Auror Potter, under the decree of Ancient Artifacts and Right of Ownership clause seeing as he is her husband…"

"_Ex_-husband, Albus." Remus cut across him, his tolerance for the Order's attitude towards bringing Lily back to Wizarding Britain with or without her consent, has been growing thin, truth be told the only reason he stays at all despite, the constant bigotry he has to endure due to his werewolf status, is to be Lily's eyes and ears in the Order.

"_Husband,_ Remus, as I have taken it upon myself to annul the divorce by reinstituting the old law that prohibits the separation of married couples." He smiled kindly as if he has done the sweetest thing he possibly could for the Potter family. He had hoped that Lily would return to her family after her son reached the age of wizarding consent, but to his disappointment she refused but that did not stop him from falling back to a contingency plan, being the head of the I.C.W. and the Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot does have its perks.

Remus had a look of disgust at Dumbledore's underhanded maneuver, but it was lost on most of the Order, "Oh, wonderful," Ginny squealed as she grabbed Hayden's arm, "you and your mother can be a family again."

Hayden merely gave a half-hearted nod, a gesture that seemed forced; he is lost in thought, the memory of that swordsman, his brother, dominated his mind as if he has to know everything about him, as if he was the missing part of his being. Vague memories of a baby with green eyes stirred up to the forethought of his mind and this feeling of oneness he shared. _Hayden wrestled with a baby that looked just like him both babbling in baby talk Hayden squealed in merriment when his brother got on top of him and hugged him, 'Arry' he squeaked and was answered with 'Ayda.' _For a moment Hayden's eyes turned emerald green and his featured morphed slightly favoring some aspects of Lily's family before the feeling vanished and he returned to his original appearance.

The rest of the Order started to applaud the oncoming reunion of the Potter clan, save for Remus, Sirius, Severus, Nymphadora and Charlie. Nymphadora, or Tonks as she prefers, is a long time friend of Harry's, as is Charlie through the mutual connection of his brother Bill, he had met Harry once on a dragon reserve in Romania, he had never met a kid like him, he was fearless like a dragon.

"This is not going to go over well." Charlie whispered, Tonks nodded her head slightly, the two of them have been seeing each-other in secret, and they got together thanks to the machinations of Europe's most dangerous matchmaker; Lily Evens. They are very aware of the Evens' family expeditions and their plunder and discoveries, Lily, Harry and Bill had salvaged hundreds of relics form the tombs they discovered, when they learn of the confiscation it will set them on the warpath.

"At last, William might get some sense into his head and come home." Molly nodded her head, it is a well known fact that she wants her eldest son to find a Ministry position; she believes that gallivanting around in foreign countries is not healthy for a promising young wizard. When Bill announced that he was going to be a curse-breaker for Gringotts, Molly went mental as the twins would say, but when Lily offered him an apprenticeship in archaeological expeditions, or tomb-raiding, she went off the handle completely. At least curse-breakers get a regular salary but tomb-raiders live a more dangerous life-style and only get paid if they make a worth-while discovery by museums, governments, universities, or private parties. Most the family didn't seem to mind; Charlie received a translated book on ancient dragon lore that he never heard of; Arthur got an album full of pictures of Bill's adventures; the twins got a few prank products from Austria, Germany, Finland, Denmark, and Spain.

Charlie shared a look with his two brothers Fred and George, who both rolled their eyes.

"Charlie, do you have something to say?" Dumbledore asked the red-head in a grandfatherly voice.

"Yes, I think what you are doing is reprehensible. It's basically theft, Lily, Bill and Harry have worked hard for years to make this discovery and you are about to take it away from them with some stupid trumped-up technicalities, made by ancient laws that have been revoked over a century ago."

Minerva McGonagall, who is usually a steadfast supporter of Albus's, had to agree with the dragon-handler, "I happen to agree with him Albus, muggleborns and squibs hardly ever get a decent shot in the Wizarding Communities, and now you are going to steal their glory? Its wrong Albus and you know it."

"This is war, Minerva, we need to do what is right for the greater good, the love of the family will empower Hayden, and any enchanted weapons Lily have will aid us in the war-effort."

"Wha' bout th'squib, Dumbledore?" the dirty, middle-aged man fiddling with a pipe asked. "Wha' ye gonna do bout 'im?" Mundungus Fletcher talking so casually about Harry made Tonks' teeth grind.

"Only what is necessary." Dumbledore cut James off before the head of the Potter family said something he will regret.

"You mean obliviation." A tall dark-skinned man called Shacklebolt stated, Moody growled, it was disappointing for him to hear about the possibility of removing such a promising fighter from the war.

"Why are you all getting so worked up about some squib?" James growled, his eyes flashing angry at the mention of Harry, "It's his fault that Lily-flower left; he should have remained with those muggle in-laws of mine, obliviated and all."

Severus Snape, who has been lurking in the corner as is his custom, sneered at his childhood rival, "Arrogant and proud as ever, Potter, it is obvious that Harry had bested you but you just can't handle that, how mature to get all worked up over such as small thing."

"Shut up Snivellous, this has nothing to do with you, Lily made her choice." James spat.

"Yes she did, Potter, the right choice she chose her son over you and you just can't handle her rejection, could you?" Snape taunted, if James had a wand he would have repeated every single cruel deed he played on Severus in Hogwarts.

"This is not helping," Albus interrupted, "can we get back to the matter at hand?"

"I think you are being too rash, Albus, that boy could clearly handle himself in a scrap, if he could get the drop on you just imagine what he could do to the Death Eaters." He grinned wolfishly, while Sirius nodded in agreement, he and James have not been on speaking terms ever-sense his godson's disownment.

"If Harry is anything like his mother then the Death Eaters will be in very deep trouble." The dog animagus smiled while many of the order nodded their head in sync. Lily Evens the 'Red Witch' and the _only_ witch that Bellatrix LeStrange ever feared, was one of the greatest assets to the Order of the Phoenix, loosing her allegiance was a devastating blow but very few people could fault her for it, most of the Order members understand the maternal instinct to protect her child and now hoped that since her child is now grown and most likely won't be needing any more protection she will return.

"Obliviation was only one of my ideas should my first plan not work out, now that Harry possesses this rather unique magic, I wish to bring him into the struggle against Voldemort, I'm sure he will be a great boon to our ranks." Albus said casually. This caught the attention of every ally Harry Evens has in the room. "Harry obviously has come into possession of a power that I have never even heard of, from what I could tell it does not require the use of a wand or focuser. It would be for the greater good that we sway him to our side, if we could harness his power we just might have the element of surprise that has been denied to us."

Remus, Sirius, Charlie and Tonks all had the same thought running through their minds; _'You don't know you are fucking with.'_ But for Severus the only thing he thought was; _'Be careful Lily.'_

_**At the Orc Stronghold in Switzerland…**_

* * *

Harry has been going through a sneezing fit for the last minute for what he does not know, to the best of his knowledge the only thing he is intolerant of is the Cassia tree flower pollen, thankfully he got it back under control before he reached the heavy wood gates of the orc stronghold. Harry, Bill and Lydia got to Switzerland via an international portkey, as is custom with orc and goblin dealings Harry was allowed to bring two witnesses to the exchange, but as a show of strength Lily had to stay behind as having his mother there would be a sign of weakness. Bill came with him to act as Harry's second and bodyguard as he has had dealings with the Orsimer peoples before, and Lydia is there as a show of Harry's status as orcs believe that having a willing female stand at one's side is a sign of alpha dominance, in other words having a girlfriend is a big help in dealing with orcs.

Harry is dressed in a manor suited for a warrior, armor being the dress of Orsimer treaties; in place of the standard leather armor he usually wears he is clad in steel armor with black bear fur around the neckline and shoulders symbolizing his status as a full-fledged member of the Companions. On his arms and legs are Nordic gauntlets and boots, at his side is Dawnbreaker and strapped to his lower back is his dirk. A cloak is draped over his shoulders and clasped with an iron broach.

Bill wore robes similar to the wizards of the ancient world, black loose fitting pants with black light-weight boots, a beige robe that covered him almost like a gi top, a cowl covered his head obscuring his long red hair, and a pair of gloves on his hands.

Lydia is garbed much like Harry was save that her armor is made from strips of leather that strategically covered parts of her feminine anatomy with several pieces of steel covering her shoulders, arms and legs, with black bear fur lining around the neck and shoulders, her two dirks are strapped at her waist. She also wore a cloak.

As they approached the stronghold the were greeted at the gate by an orc; he stood a head taller than Harry and very broad in the shoulders, he has dark skin, a strong forehead, pointed ears and a very strong jaw with a slight under-bite, his lips were parted to allow space for his lower canines to protrude to his upper lip. His hair was pitch-black like Harry's but done in thick dreadlocks, tribal tattoos covered his face and he was garbed for war in heavy, black, pointy armor with a great-sword resting at his side.

The orc held up his hand in the universal _'halt' _gesture, when Harry's party was close enough. Harry waited for the orc to speak first as it is custom for he is on orc territory and therefore must abide to their laws. The orc walked up to them one-by-one inspecting them, lingering on Bill a second longer with a slight scowl on his face, it was hard to tell with the naturally aggressive features.

The orc, after giving them one final look, made some call to the gate, which slowly started to open. "May your wits be sharp." The orc guard said in a slightly muffled voice due to the contours of his mouth not being suited to most human languages.

Harry, knowing a thing or two about Orsimer customs, replied correctly, "And your prey fresh." Not bowing his head as human might normally do as it could be translated as a challenge or show of fealty. He walked into the Stronghold with his back straight and shoulders proud, his features glaring as if he is ready to stare-down anyone who is unfortunate to cross his path. Lydia and Bill are doing the same thing at his flanks with varying degrees of success, it is easier for Lydia as she is a born Companion but Bill being wizardborn has to work for it a bit, but luckily his adventures had blessed him with the confidence to appear strong. As they walked through the Stronghold, many of the Orsimer stopped what they were doing to watch the outsiders pass through their land. There are several males and older females, either working the various forges or crafting trinkets. The party only saw two or three children so far, which is understandable to Harry who knew that only the alpha-orc, the Chief, is allowed to take wives and produce offspring to keep the bloodlines strong. The houses are made of wood and looked more like metalwork sheds then actual places of dwelling but Harry knew that the Orsimer peoples valued not comfort; as such luxuries are not accepted in their harsh, demanding culture, but practicality. They slowly made their way up the knoll the Stronghold is built on to the Chief's dwelling, their version of a town hall or manor, it was as close to a luxurious house as they got, made out of sturdy timber, coated with something that made it fire repellant and reek a bit, instead of a square-like structure that is common with humans it is roundish and wide with a makeshift courtyard in the front. As Harry, Lydia and Bill approached, they saw a rather stern looking orc with long white hair tied in a high ponytail, sitting by a fire holding a wicked-looking war-hammer polishing the end of it with something that looked like congealed grease that stank; Harry recognized the smell as a metal polish home-made by the Orsimer.

They approached the fire and waited for the Chief to take notice of them, when he did not Bill was ready to wait as long as needed as he has no desire to upset a whole encampment of orcs, but Harry and Lydia took insult.

"We have come for barter and trade, and time is against us." Harry said with authority.

The Chief continued to pay attention to his war-hammer, not taking any notice of them, Harry growled, as he produced a wicked looking dagger shaped vaguely like a kris-knife, greenish grey in color and very old, one of the many weapons and artifacts they found in the Dovahkiin's Treasury. He threw it at the Chief's feet were it stuck into the ground in his line of sight. Normally this would be a cause for war in human cultures but this is a way for an orc to take notice of you. The Chief stopped administering polish to his hammer and picked up the knife turning it over and over in his hand.

"Early-Tamrielian," he stated in a gruff, muffled voice, "orc-forged, this a ritual knife in services to Malacath, the patron to all Orsimer." He looked up to Harry and locked eyes with him, "How did you come by this, human?"

"My title is 'warrior' or 'Companion,' and how I came by it is not of your concern unless you are willing to barter for the use of the Master Vault." Harry stated with finality. The orc showed no emotion on his face as he stared Harry down like a cat does a mouse, Harry saw then how old the orc is, possibly as old as Dumbledore, he understood right there that he must be strong if none of his sons have bested him in combat yet as it is the only way to be retired from the position of chieftain. This is Grond.

Grond shifted his gaze over to Lydia, "Is she your mate?"

Harry and Lydia fought to keep their composure in-front of the orc, while Bill allowed a grin to grace his features.

"N-no, she isn't." Harry was amazed to hear a note of regret in his voice, he hoped Lydia didn't notice.

Lydia heard a note of regret in Harry's voice when he said that she isn't his mate, he likes her in that way too?

"Then you two are courting?" Grond asked. Harry quietly took a breath and responded hoping his voice wont betray him a second time.

"We are friends."

'_Now, that is a bold-faced lie if I ever heard one.'_ Grond thought to himself, the body language of the two warriors spoke volumes, the awkward shuffling of the feet, the way the eyes shifted over towards each other, not to mention the wizard's roll of the eyes. _'Why must humans make their mating rituals so complicated and their social rules of etiquette make them awkward about such a simple thing?' _

In Orsimer society many things can determine the status of a male from the number of kills he has made, to the number of mates he possesses, Grond himself has twenty-three wives currently and thirty-eight during the whole of his life, which puts him in high status as most orcs don't have _half_ that number. To have a mate shows that he is an alpha and has proven it; to tell an orc that you don't have a mate is the same as saying you are a virgin and not impressive. But being older than most orcs and far wiser, Grond understands the huge differences between Orsimer and human customs, and patiently tried to analyze Harry from a human perspective; he wears the armor of a warrior, and the black fur of the Companions, which means he has a powerful alliance with the warrior people of Jorrvaskr.

His eyes narrowed as he spotted the sword at the lad's hip, it looked like an old design, human but too elegant to be human from what he could see of the handle and hilt. Was it his imagination or is the hilt glowing? Putting it out of his mind he placed the ritual knife down next to him along with his war-hammer, and motioned for the trio to sit, they did so removing their swords and dirks respectively while Bill, being a wizard, has no weapons to speak of placed his wand in plane view of the orc but away from the flames.

Grond gestured at Bill with his hand, "The wizard, has explained to me that you wish for permission to use the Master Vault." When Harry nodded in the affirmative Grond eyed the young warrior. "Then why, human, would I ever grant you access to our strongest depository, do you take me a fool who would be blinded by a pretty trinket? Or do you think yourself impressive enough to intimidate me?"

Harry's first instinct was to growl, to basically call him a briber is an insult to his honor, but Harry is wise to the wordplay of Orsimer, the only way to proceed in negotiations is to call a bluff. "If that is how you feel Grond, then fine we _will_ take our business to Gringotts, and risk confiscation by the International Confederation of Wizards for possession of enchanted weapons and Orsimer artifacts from the Tamrielian era." He moved to collect his sword and stand up but Grond held up a hand in the 'wait' gesture.

"How would the Confederation know of your possession of these alleged weapons?" Grond has dealt with veiled threats before and has a habit of challenging them.

Lydia is getting antsy, all of this verbal thrust and parry, as short lived as it is, is giving her a headache. She is used to the seeing the knives and daggers in front of her but in this battlefield the knives and daggers are hidden in subtle hints. "Alleged my ass." She muttered. Big mistake.

Grond turned his head to her slowly, a fierce glare in his eyes only then did Lydia realize that she, a female, had spoken out of turn during negotiations. Grond moved to strike her across the face with a backhand, but found his wrist blocked by a sword edge that radiated light.

"You so much as touch her _**Ogiim**_, you will pay for it with your hand." Harry's voice became deep and guttural with the strange word. Bill was on his feet his wand in hand as orc warriors rushed to the aid of their patriarch, Lydia, cursing herself in Old Norse, held both her dirks at the ready. Grond stared at the sword in wonder the blade was literally glowing, not like harsh sunlight or gentle moonlight but like a perfect blend between the two, he can spot no runes on the blade and sense no magic remnants that would suggest a spell. But he felt an otherworldly power flowing from the blade, this sword it couldn't be, Dawnbreaker? It fit the descriptions from the old tales, but that is impossible, the Last Dovahkiin sealed it in a vault that can only be opened by… another Dovahkiin. Everything started to fit together in his head, including the importance of the warrior before him. He swiftly pointed to the his guard, "Enough!" he shouted at them, "Away with you,"

One of the orc guards said something in their native tongue to which Grond retorted with a dangerous snarl as he said something that sounded like an order. Without hesitation they sheathed their weapons and backed away, returning to their business.

"You are lucky you didn't draw blood, or I would have let them take your head, Dovahkiin." Grond grinned, Harry Lydia and Bill looked at Grond warily, the title of Dovahkiin is still foreign and unknown to them save for the what little Lydia was able to tell them about the Dovahkiin being the ultimate dragonslayer with a unique power, and from the fable that Harry read from the inscriptions on the Treasury door. Harry held his blade loosely but securely in his hand incase Grond wanted the pleasure of killing him himself. "Stay your hand I have no wish to make an enemy of a Daedra, especially one like Meridia, by harming her champion."

Lydia snapped her head over to Harry a look of incredulity on her face but this time she kept her tongue under control not wanting to nearly start another battle. She felt a little betrayed, the Companions have had a history with the Daedra more accurately Hircine, the Huntsman and Father of Manbeasts, that was until the Cursebreaker freed them from the werewolf curse placed on them by the hagravens, ever since then the Companions have stayed shy of the Daedra not wishing to be brought back into their service. For the first time she got a good look at the sword Harry claimed from the plunder, from the descriptions from the old songs it could only be Dawnbreaker, but the only way he could even hold that sword is if it's maker allows him to. Harry is a Champion of Meridia. While she is among the more benign of the Daedra she is still a Daedra.

Bill was looking from person to person, switching his gaze from Grond to Harry to Lydia, the tension in the air was so thick he felt suffocated; growing up as a wizard he had rarely dealt with this kind of standoff. When he accepted the apprenticeship with Lily Evens he realized that wizards live a relatively sheltered life, cloistered in their little villages and secret communities they know second to nothing about the outside world and how much it has advanced, muggles have found a treatment for AIDS while wizards have yet to identify what it is. He has met numerous societies that live cloistered like the Wizardborn do but with different reasons and more modernly too. Bill has been trying to immerse himself into the twenty-first century with great success so far but is still getting used to the innuendos and skimpy cloths of today. But every now and then a situation like this makes him realize that the outside world is really big.

Harry sighed, he could feel the shock emanating from Lydia and the calculating glare from Grond, Bill was more of a bystander then a participant in this little standoff but it was still distracting. Looking at Lydia and seeing her expression of denial he couldn't lie to her, "Yes, I am in service to the Lady of Light."

"Then sit, I believe we have a bargain to be struck." Grond gestured to the ground, and sat before Harry, Lydia and Bill obliged, Lydia sat a little further from Harry. "Meridia, huh? I suppose you can do worse, she usually sends her champion to kill necromancers if the legends are to be believed, whom has she sent you to kill?"

"With all due respect, Grond, it is none of your business." Harry stated with a tone of finality, to say that he has to kill Voldemort may be the same as saying that he is the true boy-who-lived but he doesn't want anyone to know just yet, it is his burden to bear.

"Fair enough," the orc chief grumbled, "to business then, you wish to use the Master Vault, which as been exclusively used by the Orsimer for well over a hundred years, not even the Thieves Guild best can break into it, what do you have that is so important?"

Harry listed everything about the weapons and hundreds of miscellaneous artifacts he helped his mother accumulate over the years, but kept knowledge about anything that is of value to the orcs such as relics pertaining to Malacath. When he spoke of the enchanted weapons Grond was sold, as a keeper of lore he is intimately familiar with the legends and whispers that pertain to such things, when Harry spoke of his and his mother's fears about Dumbledore's possible lust for the arsenal Grond growled.

"That old bigot up to his old tricks again I see, it's not of 'if' he will come for your plunder but of 'when,' I can't trust that deceiver as long as it takes me to kill him."

"That's 'as far as I can throw him.'" Harry corrected.

Grond grinned, a gesture that seemed rather threatening, "No, I meant what I said, I am a lot stronger than you give me credit for, ask your wizardborn companion."

Bill paled at the memory, which Harry saw he would have to ask what happened later.

"Will you allow us the use of your Master Vault?"

Grond looked pensive then, "I will allow rent if you meet a price of interest."

Harry already had the price of interest down, "We will give you a percentage of our plunder."

"Interesting," Grond admitted, "but hardly worth my time unless you name it."

"Orsimer artifacts." Grond's eyes narrowed, "more important than the knife at your feet, and all proclaim to the worship of Malacath."

"Funny you never mentioned them when you listed what you wanted to store." Grond became suspicious, thinking that the human just might have leverage in the negotiations.

"That's because I intend to 'pay the rent' with them." Harry produced an envelope from a hidden pocket in his cloak and handed it to the chief, he opened it and pulled out pictures of the after mentioned artifacts. One by one he flipped through them and carefully looked at the subjects portrayed.

After a while Grond said "One year, is my offer for the lot."

Harry growled, at the insult of the price and to his intelligence, "Ten years is my price."

"One year, you are in no position to negotiate." Grond subtly reminded Harry that Dumbledore is after the treasure.

"Ten years, the war-hammer Voledrung in among those artifacts, a Daedric artifact of Malacath _alone_ should be worth ten years." Harry said smoothly in a way that made Bill remember Slytherin House during his Hogwarts years.

"And why would I allow ten years for an artifact that does not belong to the Orsimer people?"

"Dwemer artifacts are rare and this one has a history, if I am correct in saying that it is the reason the province of Hammerfell was called _Hammer_fell."

Grond grunted, "You are correct."

"And how would it look, if your clan comes into possession of such on object, not to mention the reclamation of many historical artifacts that pertain to a lost history of your people?"

"Are you trying to bribe me?"

Harry shrugged, "More or less, yes I am."

Harry and Grond stared hard at eachother, neither one backing down from the challenge until, "Two years."

To which Harry responded, "Done." Grond gave a strong nod of his head then in his native language called for a scribe to draw up the contract.

_**Jorrvaskr…**_

* * *

Lily was sitting beside the fire when she heard a knock at the door, quickly she got up to answer, pretty sure who it is, when she pulled the door aside she was greeted by the face of Laura, the wife of the Harbinger and mother to Lydia. The two woman, who have been good friends for ten years embraced as sisters.

"Laura, it's wonderful to see you."

"You as well, Lily." Laura stood at the same height as Lily with chestnut-colored hair, tanned skin and the same honey-colored eyes as her daughter. She wore a modern cream-colored blouse with an ankle length skirt and sandals. They sat down by the hearth fire and Lily started the conspire-um… conversation.

"Laura, I need your help with something."

"If it's about your ex-husband I, as my husband has already told you, will help you, we won't abandon one of our own not even to the wizardborn."

Lily nodded in appreciation, "I know that, but that is not what I asked you over here to discuss."

Laura was confused, Lily said it was urgent but what could it be if it's not the matter with the I.C.W.? "Is it Alphonse, did that tomcat get you in trouble? Because if he did I will make him take responsibility after I kick his ass." She pointed her finger in a 'tell the truth now' gesture.

Lily blushed lightly and shook her head, "No, that's not it, first off; that hound-dog, a hunk that he is, is not my type, and second; if I need to kick his ass I'll do it myself." It is true, when Lily was pregnant with Harry and Hayden her mood swings often put James's life in danger as well as anyone around her. It was the nine scariest months of her ex-husband's life, he said it was like living with an assassin, that comment earned him the couch sentence.

"What is it then?"

Lily smiled, "I need your help with a delicate mission, should you choose to accept." She said with an air of menace, "I need you to help me to get Harry and Lydia to admit their feelings to each other."

Laura blinked, this was unexpected, "Huh?" she intelligibly asked.

"I'm tired of watching those two dance around each other, it's like watching a soap opera," Lily sighed exasperatedly, "I just want it over with."

"Huh?" Laura asked again. "You do realize who my husband is right?" Lily nodded, "If he finds out that Harry is asking Lydia out or about their feelings, he will kill Harry."

Lily nodded again; it is a well known fact that Bjorn, the gruff and tough Harbinger of the Companions, is the embodiment of the term 'overprotective father' where his daughter is concerned.

"This is why I need you to distract him while I get Harry to confess to Lydia, with Dumbledore after us I can't be as subtle as I like, so I need you to hold him off and get him to cool down afterwards when he finds out." Lily said simply, doing this kind of think is almost second nature to her, the sorting hat during the start of her first year seriously considered putting her in Slytherin for this reason but a muggleborn she wouldn't last two days in the house of serpents.

"I'll do what I can, Lily, but Bjorn will come after Harry in the end."

Lily smirked, "Don't worry about him, Harry can take care of himself."

Laura shrugged her shoulders at that declaration, "You know, I'm surprised at you Lily."

"How so?"

"I thought you would be all worried about this Dumbledore matter over your little matchmaking hobby."

Lily snorted in an un-lady like fashion, "Please, that old wombat doesn't scare me, I'm pretty sure that Harry's got a deal made by now with Chief Grond, so I'm not worried about him coming after our lively-hood," she paused, looking thoughtful, "but I can't help but feel I have overlooked something."

Laura had no comment being a muggle and an inhabitant of Jorrvaskr she has very little knowledge about the ways of the wizardborn and their laws. But what ever it is she is sure her husband Bjorn and the Companions, along with the whole of Jorrvaskr will stand behind her, especially after Lily restores Wuuthrad to them.

_**Flashback…**_

_Lily and Bjorn sat in the Harbinger's private office, just the two of them as Lily wanted no witnesses to the meeting his her plan is to work out, if it does she can kill not two but _three_ birds with one stone._

"_We don't have much money," Bjorn stated, "but we can offer you're an alliance in return for the Skyforge and Wuuthrad." He is a tall man with powerful arms and shaggy dirty-blond hair with a short beard and deep blue eyes, he was dressed as casually as Lily was with hide pants and a cotton shirt. Several scars were visible on his exposed skin including one that ran from his temple to his jaw, along with a nose that showed signs of being broken at least twice._

"_In a way we already have that, seeing as my son has been trained by you and joined your ranks last year when he turned sixteen."_

_Bjorn waved his hand, "True, but we don't have much to our name what you see is what we have." _

_Lily smirked evilly, "Actually I do have a price in mind, but I want your promise to hear me out." After Bjorn gave her his word after slight hesitation she said, "I want to offer Wuuthrad and the plans to the Skyforge as a bride-price."_

_Lily sat there in silence while her words took effect, "WHAT!" Bjorn stood up menacingly, the warrior within him rearing it's head. "No, out of the question, I will not bargain my girl for anything even for the keys to Sovngarde!" _

_Lily held her ground and continued as if nothing happened, "I was not suggesting that you sell your daughter, I would never ask that of anyone. All I ask is in return for the artifacts, that you allow my son to court her."_

_Bjorn looked at her suspiciously before sitting down, "Just that, nothing more?"_

_Lily nodded, "What I want is to get them to admit their feelings for each-other, if it doesn't work out you still get the axe and the plans, for you it's a win-win situation, only if they do get together will have a grandchild to spoil." She sang in the end, Bjorn's eyes glazed over slightly at the prospect of bouncing his daughter's little one on his knee and a house full of grandchildren to spoil rotten. _

"_But not for a couple of years, she is too young to be a mother." He pointed at Lily, who agreed with a delicate nod. _

"_But this meeting is to be kept secret as not arouse suspicion with the children, so don't tell Laura, just play along." Lily instructed._

_**Flashback end…**_

Lily smiled to herself as Laura had no idea that she had already set things in motion, now with both parents out of the way this should be easy.

* * *

_**So what do you think good? Bad? Needs more what? I'm open to suggestions anyone. Am I overdoing the whole matchmaking Lily thing? Review please.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter or Skyrim or any of the Elder Scroll games including Elder Scrolls Online, (Awesome Trailer) too bad they are not making it for the PS3 and 360 platforms as well, it would sell like hot cakes.**_

* * *

Harry sat on the front porch of his house in Jorrvaskr reading a book written by a bard from the Solitude College whatever that was, it of course is a translated version he finished. The book is about the civil war that preceded the Last War that wiped out Skyrim and most of Tamriel. It was very engaging the two sides; the Imperials and the Stormcloaks, represented the Imperials habitation of Skyrim and the collation of Nord patriots respectively. It almost sounded like the situation with the Irish and Scotts during the English occupation. Ulfric Stormcloak the Jarl of Windhelm was hailed as the High King by his followers by killing his predecessor in combat, as was Nord custom, even though many considered it murder, even Harry, who saw dishonor in using a power like the Voice in a right of challenge, it was like bringing a gun to a knife-fight. The book was rather vague about the war and the results but it painted rather clear pictures about the leaders of the opposing factions.

Ulfric Stormcloak was interesting to say the least. _"I fight for the men I've held in my arms, dying on foreign soil. I fight for their wives and children, who's names I heard whispered in their last breaths. I fight for we few who did come home, only to find our country full of strangers wearing familiar faces. I fight for my people impoverished to pay the debts of an Empire too weak to rule them, yet brands them criminals for wanting to rule themselves! I fight so that all the fighting I've already done hasn't been for nothing. I fight... because I must."_ Harry cannot deny that he was moved by that speech, he is part Irish from his grandparents on his mother's side and so felt like this speech was meant for him and all those who were oppressed by people who '_brands them criminals for wanting to rule themselves.' _He was a powerful speaker for sure, but some of the tactics he employed were cold and ruthless, he could understand that desperate times called for desperate measures.

The Empire was, well, different. Harry could understand their view on the war, their need to keep the peace, to placate the Altmeri Dominion and if it means to sacrifice the Nords' right to worship their patron god Talos, then it was a small price to pay for the safety of hundreds if not thousands of lives. As much as Harry understood them he was disgusted by them, as a warrior he would rather die than be dictated. Maybe he does agree with the Stormcloaks side of the war, or it just might be his Irish-Celtic blood speaking out. He sneered at the lack of backbone in the Empire and winced as he aggravated a shiner of his left cheek, he instinctively brought his hand up to caress it the memory of how he got it still fresh in his mind.

Lydia was quite angry at him for a minute for not telling her the truth about him being Meridia's champion…

_**Flashback…**_

_(SLAP!)_

_Harry turned his head as he felt the harsh sting of Lydia's hand leave a print on his face._

"_L-Lydia, what the hell?!" Harry shouted, his ire rising, but stopped at the withering look his friend shot at him._

_She was pissed, no she is not pissed, Harry has seen her pissed, this is way, _way_ beyond pissed, he can only assume that this has got something to do with being Meridia's champion._

"'_What the hell?' what about you, Evans? What the hell were you thinking? A Daedra? You pledged you service to a fucking Daedra, you risk your very soul, you fucktard." Lydia's tone was stone cold and flat as a brick, Harry has never seen her this mad before. They had just used the portkey to return to Jorrvaskr when she dragged his ass aside before they entered the village out of sight of the main road, while Bill who knew what was coming went on ahead to report to Lily of Harry's success._

"_It's not like I had a choice, she forced me into it!" _

_Lydia shoved a finger in his face, "Don't give me that, ice-brain, you're stubborn as a troll, twice as ugly, and just as thick, no-one can _force_ you to do anything." _

"_Why are getting so worked up about this, this just involves me, it's not like I condemned the Companions to Hercine's Hunting Grounds again. Meridia doesn't lay claim to her champion's soul." Harry ground out, shoving Lydia's finger aside._

"_What did she order you to do?" the young Companion demanded._

"_That is none of your business." Harry snapped._

_Lydia mocked gasped, "Oh, then it couldn't be much, what, did she order you to get her groceries, or clean the back yard, because she would never ask you to hunt down and kill the Snake Wizard."_

"_SHUT UP!" Harry barked, her comment hit too close to the truth of who he his. _

_Lydia narrowed her eyes not fazed by the outburst, she was used to sudden shouts from warriors due to her training. "She did, didn't she? She ordered you to kill Voldemort." Harry averted his eyes and turned around looking anywhere but at Lydia, she scoffed, "Are you really going to get involved, Mr. It's-not-my-world, you wanted nothing to do with the wizarding communities and now you are going hop back into them with both feet just because some being from the planes of Oblivion told you to?" _

"_I have to." Harry muttered._

"'_Have to' since when have you believed in fate?" Lydia growled exasperatedly, "Do you really put stock into what a Daedra says?"_

"_**NUST KOS **_**NEH**_** FOLAAS**__!" Harry shouted as he turned around, every bit of him radiating power, "WHY DO YOU THINK I HAVE BEEN POURING OVER EVERY BOOK ABOUT THEM OVER THE LAST FEW DAYS, __**AAM**__? I KNOW THEY ARE __**TAHRODIIS**__, BUT WHEN __**NUST **__SAY SOMETHING HAS TO BE DONE IT IS __**OL PRUZAH OL PRODAH!**__" As Harry continued his rant he slipped into Dovahzul, Lydia was having a hard time keeping up with what he was saying, it is obvious to her that Harry doesn't realize that he is speaking a different language. It was just like back at the meeting with the Chief when he called him an __**Ogiim**__._

_Lydia has had enough she simply walked away leaving Harry among the trees then stopped and without looking at him said, loud enough for him to hear; "We are Companions, we never face _anything_ alone, you should trust me more than that."_

_**Flashback end…**_

Harry's fingers unconsciously went to his cheek, he is still determined to keep her out of this, this was a burden he never wanted and he wanted nothing to do with the wizarding world, just as they want nothing to do with _worthless_ squibs. His earliest recollections of childhood are plagued with scorn and ridicule just because he was not wizardborn, he had learned to deal with it, and in fact he took _pride_ in not being one. Being an outsider to their world he saw what they were like; arrogant in their power and ignorant of the outside world. He slammed the book shut as old feelings bubbled up to the surface, anger and hate, even though he is a man by Jorrvaskr's standings when he was initiated a year ago when he turned sixteen as a Companion he was still like a child at times. He knows that is quick to anger, it's a flaw he needs to work at, but it has become a reflex, when something he cares about is threatened he bares his fangs before he thinks about the repercussions of his actions. The meeting with Grond was proof of that, he threatened the Orsimer and nearly started a feud with Jorrvaskr.

If there was to be anything said about this new development between himself and Lydia it was that his mother was acting strangely. Lily Evans has taken to observing himself and Lydia with an appraising gaze as if sizing them up he didn't know why but it gives him a feeling of great unease. Setting the book aside he got up and started to walk the streets of Jorrvaskr the town was not very big or impressive, they lived a very simple lifestyle similar to the orcs, favoring practicality over comfort, almost everything owned in Jorrvaskr is earned, not bought, almost all of the economy is used to ensure the village does not starve and to keep trade routes open. But that does not mean that the inhabitants don't get paid, in fact the golden rule in this town is 'if you want to eat, you have to work.' Sometimes their services are hired as body guards or hired mussel, but their biggest line of work could be classified as 'pest control.' Every now and then an request for the 'removal' of a troll or giant comes in and they deal with it, not quite the legendary feat but it keeps the village fed. Currently their main concern is the Lycanthrope clans, they have been in a blood feud with Jorrvaskr for well over two-thousand years.

Grudges run deep in the Companions and with Harry's newly acquired knowledge of the Daedra he knew it was because the Inner Circle of the Companions was once in thrall to Hercine. Even though it was a long time ago they swore a feud with all creatures allied with the Father of Manbeasts, in short, all werewolves are their enemies. To Harry this seems hypocritical as one of their adversaries, the Silver Hand, killed werewolves and sometimes did worse than kill, they even murdered one of the greatest Harbingers. Unfortunately some of the jobs require the extermination of a werewolf or a pack of them, so the feud is kept afresh, Harry can only pray that his Uncle Remus is smart enough to stay off the radar and not warrant a bounty on his head, luckily, the Wizarding British Isles don't like to do business outside of their borders. Fortunately Bjorn is not one to promote unnecessary were-hunting and tries to keep the blood-shed to a minimum.

"Harry, hey, Harry!" Harry stopped in his tracks and turned around to identify the source of the voice, his eyes widened when he saw a man about two years older than him with light-brown hair and blue eyes, wearing casual cloths but had a hunting knife strapped to his belt.

"Eric!" Harry and Eric grabbed each-other's forearms and embraced like brothers, Eric is Harry's best-friend, in fact they are sworn brothers, a bond that formed between them during the harsh and sometimes cruel training they received at the hands of Eric's father, Bjorn.

"Damn, Harry, you be a sight for sore eyes." Eric said, holding Harry at arms length.

"And I be the cause of them, where were you, you stupid bastard? I've been here for a fortnight and you didn't even drop by an' say 'hello'?" Harry punched Eric in the shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I was on a job." Eric didn't look sorry, more amused.

"Oh, yeah? What? Giant? Troll?" Harry listed two of the more common creatures the companions face.

"Wendigo."

Harry blinked a few times, "Wendigo?" he asked, "In Europe? I thought they were isolated in North America."

Eric shrugged his shoulders, "They are, some hack smuggled one across the waters to sell on the black market, but it got away in Istanbul."

Harry raised his eyebrows, the wizarding world along with the black markets and thief guilds do business through the Turkish city of Istanbul as it was and still is a major conduit of underground commerce.

"What kind of idiot tries to ship a wendigo on the black market? Not exactly a high demand creature." Harry commented; wendigos are cannibalistic creatures similar to the werewolf as they were once human, but nastier. They cannot infect other people with their condition but they are very voracious eaters and hardly leave enough body behind to identify.

"Buy me a drink an' I'll tell ya, Grave Robber." Eric put an arm around Harry's shoulders and steered him towards _The Bannered Mare_.

"Fine, but it's a two-drink limit, booze-hound." Harry growled.

_The Bannered Mare_ is what Harry liked to call the Vahalla of the living, or Sovrngarde for the living now that he has learned more about the Nord warrior afterlife. It smelled of timber, roasted meats, spices, tainted with the scent of mead, to him it's the smell of heaven. There is a fire burning in the hearth in the center on the room surrounded by benches, a few tables can be found here and there, a bar counter was off to the side with the barkeep, a retired Companion named Ivarr, was putting glasses away while his daughter, Helen, schlepped food and drink to the few customers.

Eric blushed when he saw her, Helen is known as the heartthrob of the tavern, Harry did not blame him, he himself had a little crush on her for a while. She has short black hair, a heart-shaped face, the biggest, bluest of eyes, a graceful figure and posture, and radiated pure innocence. But she is far from naïve, she is quite witty and, true to her Jorrvaskr upbringing, can handle herself in a scrap.

Harry shook his head and wondered when Eric will man-up and just tell her how he feels, he had to watch this school-boy-drama for years and personally he is getting sick of it. Silently he wondered if it is possible to get them alone together.

* * *

_**Somewhere in a remote location…**_

A shaman, who was sitting, deep in meditation felt a great disturbance in the world, a great evil has stirred, "Something horrible just happened."

* * *

_**Back with Harry and Eric…**_

Harry and Eric took a table in the corner and ordered two juniper-berry meads, actually Harry ordered for both of them as Eric lost his tongue when Helen came over. _'Just kiss her you putz.' _ Harry whined in his head. "So, 'bout the wendigo?" he wanted to hear more about the story.

Eric just watched Helen leave, Harry traced his friend's line of sight to her tush. _'I figured him for a leg man.'_ He snapped his fingers under Eric's nose. "Hey, don't leave me hanging."

Eric snapped out of his daze and after clearing his throat, continued, "Well, when I got to Istanbul I heard that fourteen people were massacred like they were eaten by some wild animal."

Harry whistled, "Fourteen, thing must've been starving."

"It was, the wendigo was on a binge, being shut up in a crate for a while must've made it hungry and being taken out of its territory must've pissed it off considerably. The good news was that the people that got bit were black marketers, no harm no foul. Besides in Turkey those guys are a dime a dozen so they won't be missed." Eric said as if this were a common occurrence. A couple of years ago Harry would've been put off his appetite for hearing this gruesome tale, but during his travels he has seen, killed and smelled things that would make a goat retch.

When the mead came in pints, and Harry had to kick Eric in the shin to snap him out of it again, they missed a sly grin on Helen's face while she looked at Harry while he took a draft of his drink. Eric continued; "Luckily it ate too much too fast, it was giving him a bit of indigestion so it needed a place to hibernate. It didn't get very far wendigos like dark places underground, so I cornered it in the sewers."

"What did it look like?" Harry had never seen a wendigo, as he had never been to the States, so he is curious as to what a creature from the Americas looked like.

Eric grimaced, "Like a cross between a frost troll and a falmer."

Harry regretted asking, he had seen a preserved falmer only once and has no intention of running into a living one, it is hard for him to believe that they were fair elves once; the caverns of the deep world are truly unforgiving.

"I was able to kill it without too much trouble because it recently fed, but it did put up a good fight." Eric chuckled as he took another swig of his drink.

It was then that Harry noticed that Eric's nose had signs of recently being broken and healed, it was more crooked from the time _he _broke it in their first fight. "I can see that, must've been fast if it was able to break your nose."

Eric made a clicking sound with his tongue, "Actually, the wendigo didn't do this, my sweet little sister did."

Harry felt a shiver go down his neck, Lydia has a mean punch but she would only _really_ hit someone if she is _very_ mad. "What did you do?"

"Me, I didn't do anything, I got home, took a shower said 'hello' and she cold-cocked me." Eric defended, "She did say something about daedra but that's all that I remember."

Harry's heart sank, she is still mad about him being Meridia's champion, he had hoped that she would cool off after a couple of days, he saw her when he was organizing the orcs to transport the Treasury to the Master Vault. He tried to talk to her then but she was as slippery as a cat, avoided him like the plague.

"_Oh if I had money… enough to spend… and leisure time to sit a while_." Harry muttered under his breath, reverting to a habit he got from his mother, singing a song that made him feel better when he is down._ "Well there is a fair maid in this town… who solely holds my heart beguiled_." He picked up a bit in tune his voice was clearer and a little louder, yet he sang at a slow pace._ "Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips, by own she holds… my heart enthralled." _Eric joined him in the next verse_ "So fill to me the parting glass, good night and joy be with you all."_

Harry drank deeply at the end of the song, this whole situation with Lydia has to end he is fucking tired of beating around the bush, he likes her and he is going to tell her even if he ends up looking like an ass doing it.

"You missed your calling as a bard." Eric stated bluntly.

Harry scoffed, "Way to kill the mood." He got up from the table and made for the door.

"Was it something I said?" Eric asked the room at large; he then realized that Harry left him to foot the bill. "Why, that little bastard!" he then saw Helen come over with the check and realized what Harry had done when he stuck his head back in the door of the tavern and gave a wink to his best friend.

What both the warriors failed to see was the wink and the nod that was shared between Helen and a hooded figure with red hair peeking out from beneath her cowl.

_**Flashback…a few minutes prior…**_

_Lily watched her son walk into the tavern with his best friend and slipped in behind them unnoticed, thank Merlin for disillusionment charms. If there is one thing she can count on about her son is that he can be stubborn, the fault, she has to admit, goes somewhat to her. But it's also because he lets his inhibitions control him in his personal life, which is why he has never had a romantic relationship before. After Bill told her about the spat between he subjects she decided to get more active, she had to coax a bit of the truth out of her assistant to find out that Harry is in thrall to Meridia. At first she was angry that her son is in servitude to a Daedra but after scouring through his notes and translated books learned that he could do worse. Back to business, while Harry and Eric were finding themselves a table, Lily went to Helen and after revealing herself in her cloak took her aside happy that everyone was too busy to notice. _

"_Ms. Evans." Helen greeted happily, Harry's mother was one of her favorite patrons, after her mother died the witch sort of took it as a mission for a year to help the grief-struck girl mourn and move on, the two developed a relationship not unlike a mother/daughter thing but more along the lines of aunt/niece. Lily gave the young barmaid a small hug and quickly before anyone could interrupt she started explaining her plan to Helen. Art first the girl was skeptical about the whole thing, using potions is a bit of a commonplace in the Companions' line of work it's true but never like this it sounds too much like the fables about the Dark Brotherhood. But when Lily clarified that it was to only get Harry to admit his feelings to Lydia that she full-heartily agreed, Helen became a bit of a romance freak, after Lily procured for her some novels of a rather intimate, romantic nature. _

_Lily didn't like having to resort to slip her son an inhibition-block potion, but damn it if this don't pay off, she has invested quite heavily in this little project of hers and if she has to dose him with than so be it. But she couldn't deny that she felt a little guilty, the inhibition-blocker is classified as a date-rape potion if giving in a high enough doses, but she gave him just enough for him to shed that stubbornness of his. This potion is relatively new as it was created by Healer Jekyll, but he measured the potency wrong and took too much of it and created an alter ego called Mr. Hyde. Normally she wouldn't get so involved in her son's life but she needs something to distract her from thinking about what her ex-husband might be up to, besides, every girl needs a hobby._

_But now, to business, she is always fond of the classic church wedding but she does love the festive celebrations of Jorrvaskr, oh, how to choose how to choose?_

_**The Streets of Jorrvaskr…**_

Under normal circumstances Harry would have felt guilty about leaving his friend in a lurch like that, but he smiled to himself, (thanks to the potion in his system) he had to admit it was fun leaving him behind to face his secret crush. He figured that if he was going to mend things wit Lydia then he would have to take it like a man, even if it meant some well-deserved abuse, she was right, _he_ was the idiot. They have been friends for years; he should have come clean about the whole situation from the start.

He made his way to the training grounds, an excellent place to vent frustration as it is were you go to cut, pound, stab and shoot things, it is located on the outskirts of the village before the tree-boundary. When he was younger no-one could keep him away from it.

The training arena was huge, straw dummies, and targets lined the outer rim of the field the inside of the arena is one big obstacle course that would put the American military to shame; balance beams, nets, walls, razor wire, hurdles, mud pits, climbing ropes, and other such things laid out in a strategic manner that required quick movement, and superb balance. Warriors were training with wooden weapons and shields in organized sparing matches, one group was doing a free-for all, everyone wore the basic leather-padded armor as they ducked, weaved, parried and countered with practiced motions. Off to the sides fathers were putting their children through practice as well first teaching them the basics of hand-to-hand. He spotted Lydia near the edge of the training grounds with a bow and a barrel of arrows, loosing one after the other into the inner rings of the target that was thirty to forty meters away.

Lydia may be good with knives but her skill lies with the bow, she takes to it like a wizard to magic, some of the elders in Jorrvaskr believe that the blood of Alea the Huntress runs in her veins somewhere along the line. Harry skirted around the field to the archery range, watching as Lydia fired arrows with what he saw now as frustration, she is trying to relieve stress, oh boy, he's in for it now.

Harry quietly approached her with his eyes firmly fixed on the bow in Lydia's hand, the target was starting to resemble the back-end of a hedgehog. She saw him out of the corner of her eye but she was not going to make this easy for him if he is here to further defend himself she is going to loose an arrow into _him._

"Hey, Lydia." Harry greeted, only for her to take another arrow from the barrel, knock it and loose it in a fluid motion without acknowledging his presence. "I guess you're still mad 'bout yesterday, huh?"

Lydia's response was to turn swiftly and shoot an arrow in to a practice dummy's groin. That specific part of Harry's anatomy cringed in sympathy with the poor inanimate object, along with some of the men in the area.

"Understood." Harry took a deep breath, "Lydia, I don't need you to talk but to listen, okay? You're right I'm an Ice-brained idiot, you are a shield-sister and I should have trusted you more. I should have come clean to you about being a Daedra's errand boy." These words were having an effect on his pride; it took a lot for Harry to admit he was wrong about anything when he was only trying to protect someone. Who is he trying to kid? Lydia doesn't need protection from anything.

Lydia was in the middle of drawing back the bowstring when she paused and glanced over at Harry out of the corner of her eye. Harry is not one for apologies but he does care to admit when he is in the wrong.

"What I'm trying to say is… _Iamsorry_." He said the last part so fast that Lydia had to work at what he said before she raised her eyebrow in surprise as she slowly eased the tension on her bow. She shook her head slowly and laughed.

"Talos, you are such a girl." She chuckled, "What happened to your spine, Harry? Had it removed?"

Harry blinked owlishly, "Huh?"

Lydia clicked her tongue, setting her bow down next to the barrel. "Come on Ice-brain, you know me, I'm more likely to break a nose than to hold a hand when I'm worried, it's a quirk of mine."

"Hey, you broke your brother's nose yesterday, don't tell me that's not connected."

Lydia rolled her eyes, "He came into the bathroom when I was getting out of the shower."

That aught to do it, Harry shook his head, Eric means well but he is not good on some social sills like knocking before entering a restroom and not putting his feet up on the table. "So, that whole thing about slapping me and berating me, calling me an idiot was just because you care?"

Lydia's face flushed a bit and she averted her gaze a little as she shrugged.

"Your children should just skip the middle-man and be delivered by a therapist." Harry muttered, and then felt his face heat up as he imagined a baby in Lydia's arms with her looks but his eyes. Harry shook the image out of his head as heartwarming as it was, Talos help him, he is turning into his mother.

Lydia snapped her head back to Harry so fast he heard a vertebrae pop, her face turning tomato red at the indication of having children. An awkward, pregnant pause lingered between them as Harry shuffled his feet at what he said about Lydia's future children and what he had imagined and Lydia averting her gaze and trying to think about knives and other sharp pointy objects.

Harry took a breath ready to say what he felt for his friend, "Lydia-"

_*Crack*_

The teens' heads along with most of the training warriors in the practice field as a figure appeared out of nowhere, without hesitation the closest Companions closed in on him and four swords and spears found a place on the stranger's neck. Harry and Lydia both ran to see who this wizard is as only wizardborn could apparate only for the young dovahkiin to stop in surprise and alarm at the sandy-haired, scared face of someone he hasn't seen in years.

"Uncle Remus?" the man's eyes widened as he saw the one who addressed him.

"Harry?"

* * *

_**Cliffhanger! Nah! I'm just kidding, chapter six should be a button click away.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer; I don't own Harry Potter or Skyrim.**_

* * *

Remus Lupin has suffered all sorts of rough handling due to his status as a werewolf, but being held at sword-point was a new experience for the lycanthrope. For a moment he panicked thinking that he went _back in time_ to the age of Norse invaders and clan wars. All the men had serious expressions and grim features as they held his life in their hands, quickly he tried to figure a way out of this mess he got himself into, if he went for his wand they might cut his throat, if he tried to dissapparate he won't be fast enough.

"Uncle Remus?" a young voice asked, Lupin shifted his gaze to the young man with jet-black hair that fell to his shoulders with two small braids around his temples and the purist green eyes he ever saw also noticeable was the faint jagged lightning bolt scar above his right eye. He is older now but there is no mistaking him.

"Harry?"

The young man looked like a mixture of emotions ranging from excitement to curiosity to anger, at the last one Remus was afraid that Harry might let these warriors to whatever they want to him but then he said something in what sounded like a dialect of German or something related to German. At once the warriors pulled their weapons back and walked away to resume what had to be their training, Remus's inner wolf could feel that Harry is highly respected in this place and has the makings of an alpha. The werewolf breathed a sigh of relief which was replaced by a gasp of shock as Harry roughly dragged him away form the training grounds followed by the girl that he saw standing next to Harry. The young man was an intimidating figure for sure, the grip he has on his arm is going to leave bruises that will turn purple in the morning.

Harry dragged Remus down the streets of Jorrvaskr to his house with Lydia trailing behind him with her bow in hand. The young Companion was mad for a multitude of reasons chief among them was that he finally got up the courage to confess to Lydia and at the last moment _bang_ this flea-bag he called 'uncle' pops in out of nowhere, _literally,_ and totally blows it. When he got to his home he kicked open the door and shoved Remus inside with Lydia slipping in right behind him. He steered his uncle into a chair at the dining table and shouted, "What in the name of Nine Divines are you doing here!? Do you have any idea where you are!?"

Lydia, who was watching with mild interest as she stretched her shoulders to loosen up the tense mussels she used in recently shooting a bow, cleared her throat. "Hey, Harry you know this guy?"

Harry nodded with a click of his tongue, "Yeah, this is Remus Lupin, one of my uncles back in the day." Lydia knew by what Harry meant by 'back in the day' it is a phrase he uses for when he talks about his rather sordid past. "Back to the point, what the fuck are you doing here?"

Remus was completely lost for words the few years he missed in Harry's life must've have been something the wolf inside him, for some reason, was cowering into submission before the young man. The way he talked was full of confidence and authority, his posture practically screamed 'hear me roar,' Lily must've have been one hell of an influence on the boy, he is every bit as scary as she is when she got mad. He is starting to see how he got the drop on Dumbledore and his father, the mussels on the seventeen-year-old's body are well-tuned for someone his age, at Hogwarts he would be a figure of lust and desire among the female populous never mind his squib status. He glanced at the girl who came with them and saw that she was fine and fit like an athlete, with her figure the whole of the _male_ population would be after her, if one doesn't count the pureblood bigots. Seeing the two of them together he had to admit that they are quite the impressive couple.

"Wow twelve years, it's amazing how much you have grown little Harry." Remus commented.

Lydia smirked and mouthed 'little Harry,' Harry's green eyes narrowed dangerously, "Do you have any idea where you are?" Remus shook his head, "You are in Jorrvaskr, the home of the Companions." At the blank look he received from his uncle he clarified, "The Slayers." At the mention of the British term for the werewolf-slayers Remus's face paled as he realized he just walked into one of the worst places for a werewolf to be, he may not have aligned himself with a Were-clan, or pack, but he does hear the fearful whispers of the warriors who would fight any creature on equal grounds without magic.

Lydia picked up on the implications and the look of terror on the strangers' face, "You're a werewolf." It was not a question, she could see the signs as clear as day, the dark bags under his eyes from lack of rest as werewolves are insomniacs, the tattered worn clothing from unemployment and the yellowish tint to his irises, not to mention the scars on his face that looked like claw-marks from some sort of animal. Lupin watched her hand slowly wrap around the hilt of a long knife.

The door opened with a flourish and Lily walked in removing a cloak and looking at a pale Lupin who looked on the verge of a heart-attack. "Remus!" she greeted happy to see a familiar face, she held out her arms for a hug. The werewolf got up and walked over to embrace Lily, the years he can see have been good to her, she looked rather good for a woman of forty. Then again the Red Witch is one of those remarkable people who improve with age like a good wine.

"Remus what are you doing here?" Harry was still sharply glaring at the lycanthrope.

Lydia decided to join in, "I don't know what's going on but it's a bad idea for a werewolf to be here, we are not prejudiced it's just that some of us take the grudge against Hercine very seriously." Her warning caught Remus's attention as he disengaged himself from Lily, to his confused face Harry explained.

"Hercine's a primeval deity called a Daedra, they predate almost every known religion including the earliest forms of Christianity, Hercine is the Father of all Manbeasts including werewolves, which in a way makes him your patron." Harry explained, "Once the blood of wolves ran in the Inner Circle of the Companions because we were deceived and cursed, generations of Harbingers and warriors are trapped in his hunting grounds whilst being denied their heaven; Sovrngard. That is basically it in a nutshell." Remus did the 'ah' of recognition.

Lily interjected, "As good as it is to see you, Remus, you had better have a damn good reason for being here."

Remus set his jaw forward, "It's Dumbledore, he…" the words caught in his throat, this is painful, to tell his friend that her life is right back were it started, to tell this free-spirit that she is condemned to be a housewife.

"What?" Lily asked her eyes suspicious, "He what?"

Swallowing he said, "Reinstated the law that annuls divorce in order to get you back with Potter." as soon as he said it he wished he was somewhere, _anywhere,_ else, he was caught between a rock and a hard place with Harry radiating titanic waves of rage and killing intent that the wolf inside him whimpered like a kicked puppy. On the other side, Lily's hair blew about in a non-existent breeze her magic surging with her anger at the proclamation condensing the shadows and making them move like beasts.

Lydia finally understood where Harry got that temper, and shuddered at the realization that Lily was holding back on her other son, Hayden, in Denmark. She had heard from Harry about the Red Witch but she just thought those to be the words of a child idolizing his mother but now, she could only imagine what it would be like to be on the receiving end of that.

Lily herself was in a right state she had never felt like this before unless one counts the time when she found out what James had done sending Harry to her wretched sisters, finding her child beaten and broken…

_**Flashback…**_

_Lily had just returned home from an emergency meeting with the Order which was a complete waste of time in her opinion, all Dumbledore did was ask about how things are at everyone's homes. He could have just dropped by and asked while being treated to a cup of tea, Dumbledore has been slipping in her opinion, maybe his old age is finally getting the better of him he has got to be, what? One-hundred and fifty or sixty, senility has to be setting in by now._

_Upon hanging up her cloak on a hook by the door she heard something that sounded like crying, she turned her head like an animal trying to catch the noise better, no it _is_ crying. Her maternal instincts taking over she followed that sound to the playroom and opened the door to find James trying to calm down Hayden with a new toy broom. This was odd, Hayden never cries like this, he is five years old and he is bawling his eyes out like he is a baby with colic. He is clutching a security blanket to his chest while curled up in the fetal position his green-eyes red with tears that stained his shirt and the floor around him. James was trying to press the broom into Hayden's hands only for the toddler to turn further away from his father. _

_Lily walked forward and started to coo softly to her younger son, like she would normally do to calm him but the only thing that happened was for him to scream so loud you would think he got stuck with a large hypodermic needle. "Lily, thank Merlin you're here, I just can't get him to stop crying."_

_Lily shook her head at her husband's proclamation, he was never very good with the emotional problems, trying to buy is son's quiet with a new toy was his way on solving things. She picked up Hayden who just pressed his face into the blanket and scream, and held him to her chest rocking him and stroking his hair never mind the ungodly noise coming out of the little mouth. "How long has he been like this?" she asked, getting worried that there might be something wrong with him and not just a temper tantrum, which almost never happens because both her children are very well behaved._

"_Close to two hours now." He said in frustration._

_Lily was confused, two hours? "Where's Harry?" she asked looking around the playroom. The mention of his twin seemed to calm Hayden down somewhat but he was still crying. It was getting strange whenever one of the boys gets upset the other was always there to comfort him before either she or James get there. Like the time when Harry tripped and banged his head, Hayden was there, or when Hayden got stung by a bee, Harry was there, it is how verum Gemini are, to the bitter end. But Harry's not around this time to comfort his brother. _

"_Can't we just take care of Hayden first?" James complained, Lily's eyes narrowed, she was starting to grow tired of James attitude towards his older son just because he is not a wizard, the narrow-mindedness of the pureblood society astounds her. She looked down at her son to try and find the cause of his crying before seeing the that the security blanket Hayden was clutching like a lifeline had the name 'Harry' stitched on it._

"_Where…is…Harry." She asked slowly, almost dreading the answer._

_James sighed and said, "Where he should be." _

"_Where?" Lily demanded her magic starting flair._

_James sighed and said, "With his aunt."_

_It took Lily a couple of seconds to put two and two together, James is an only child and Lily only has one sister… "WHAT!?" she shouted, jumping to her feet with her child in her arms his legs wrapping around her. Petunia hates anything to do with her sister and wouldn't trust her to take care of a houseplant, much less her son. _

"_It's best for him." James protested, "Harry has no place in the wizarding world, it's easier for squibs to be far away from us, that way we can give Hayden all the love he deserves."_

"_Best for him? Harry's our son, how could you do this without telling me!?"_

"_Best for Hayden. He doesn't need a squib to slow him down he is better off…"_

_Lily thrust her hand out sending her husband flying back into a wall with raw magic the Red Witch rearing her head once more, "Don't you dare finish that sentence you arrogant, bullying tow-rag, you make me sick." James shuddered at the line he had not heard since his fifth year._

_Without another word she rushed out of the room with Hayden and grabbing her crimson cloak ran out the front door to the Potter home boundaries and turning on her heel dissaparated._

_**Number 4 Privet Drive Little Whinging, Surrey**__**…**_

_The redheaded witch reappeared in the back yard of her sister's house in the suburbs with the five year old still on her hip as she quickly went to the glass door, with a wave of her wand she opened it and made her way to the living room. The sound of the crying child attracted a horse-faced woman in her twenties on the warpath._

"_Why won't he stop crying!" she growled as she stomped down the stairs thinking it was one twin when in fact it was the other. She froze dead in her tracks as she saw her sister with her crimson red cloak draped around her holding a bawling child that had to be the twin of the freak. "Oh, no, one freak is one too many I am not taking both off your hands especially that one." she stabbed a finger at her nephew, the only reason that she and her husband, who is out with Dudley, took the other brat in was because they were getting paid handsomely for it, money they can use for their ikkle-Duddy-dums. _

_Lily trained her wand on her sister, "Where is my son?" she demanded, her sister's outburst told her clearly that her son has already been mistreated; the hate from her sister during her childhood days seems to have only ripened over the years. _

"_Don't you go pointing that thing at me, Freak." Petunia leered, "You can't use magic in-front of me."_

"_I can, sissy." Lily said in her falsely sweet voice that she only reserved for a certain crazed dark witch. "You are labeled as magically aware and I don't have the trace on me anymore so no one will know what has happened, unless you tell me where Harry is." _

_The color drained out of Petunia Dursley's face and she fainted. Lily snorted in disgust at the lack of spine in her sister and waved her wand in simple pattern and said, "_Revelare filium meum_." her wand pulsated and sent out a wave of gold light, Hayden was outlined in a golden aura as the spell took effect on him. Then Lily spotted a golden glow like a becon radiating from under the door at the cupboard under the stairs. "No." She whispered, shock coursing through her mind at the indication. She quickly waved her wand ripping the door right off it's hinges as she apporached._

_What she saw nearly broke the mother, Harry was laying face-down in a small pool of blood his shirt was torn off his body, and cuts littered his back from what looked like being whipped by a belt repeatedly until he bled. But what truly shook her was that he isn't moving. Hayden wrenched himself from his mother's hold and pulled Harry as much as he could to his lap trying to rouse him. "Arry! Arry! HARRY!"_

_**Flashback end...**_

Lily was not the only one haunted by a remembrance of the past, the scars on Harry's back itched viciously, there are some scars he takes pride in battle scars from fighting the occasional draugr, and in one unfathomable case of bad luck, a creature he can only describe as a lich wearing a mask that for some reason freaked his mother out. But the scars he had received from Vernon Dursley's belt were marks of shame and pain, not of glory or honor, not things to respected and admired but things to be pitied.

Lydia asked, "Wait, are you saying that there is no such thing as divorce in the Wizarding World?"

"Now there is, again." Lily said in a hollow voice.

"But that is totally old fashioned." She objected.

"There are such things as separations wherein the husband and wife cannot live together but are still bound my law and marriage, such things happen until they can resolve their differences." Lily responded.

"And if they can't?"

Harry drew his dirk and used it to start picking his thumbnail. "A weapon is required." He smirked.

Lydia shuddered, Harry does not seem the type to commit patricide, but he might leave a few scars or take a few limbs, his anger at his father is legendary among the Companions, and justified in their eyes; children are the future, to willingly harm a child, especially your own, would be enough to warrant at _least_ twenty lashes in the town square followed by exile.

Lydia is good at knife fighting and great at archery, she is handy in numbers but the one the things she greatly prides herself in is her ability to get out of tight corners. She caught a glimpse of a loophole not a big one but it does have something to do with the laws of Jorrvaskr. "Excuse me," everyone looked over to her, "I think I know a way."

* * *

_**With Hayden Potter…**_

The seventeen-year-old wizard, who had his birthday only a month ago, was leaning against the desk in his overly decorated Gryffindor-themed room. Hayden was suffering a massive migraine so bad that his vision was turning black, his features had just morphed to someone who less resembled his father and favored parts of his mother; his nose was no-longer turned-up, his cheekbones are more pronounced and his eyes turned emerald green. Not to mention his hair had gotten longer, shoulder-length to be exact, and his body painfully cramped when his mussel mass increased and became denser, his skin itched as it turned from the usual pale tone to a healthy bronze like he spend most of his life outdoors. Looking in a mirror it was like looking at that swordsman who had bested him when he went with his father to retrieve his mom.

**Harry**

The single word caused his head to throb painfully where he almost blacked out, he looked pale as snow as a wave of cold bad enough to rival the aura of a dementor swept over him. An image of the warrior came to the front of his mind, standing in battle armor like a knight of Camelot holding the sword of light proudly in his hand, saying _'I kept my promise.'_

"Promise…" Hayden muttered while his eyes glazed-over with suppressed memories of the past.

_**Flashback…**_

_The two toddlers sat against the wall at Harry's favorite spot in the playroom, the shelf that had all the plastic swords he held one of them in his hand while his brother had an arm draped over him. Harry had just found out that he doesn't have any magic powers, and that very thought made him depressed, he had dreamed of doing really cool things with his brother with magic but now he can't. It's like for the first time in…ever there is a difference between the two boys. Hayden was sad too, he didn't want to be different from his brother or to have something he didn't have, it all started with the fame of being the Boy-Who-Lived, his mother thankfully tried to shield them from it, but his father was different, every time he tried to show his son off to his friends while leaving Harry behind, Hayden would throw such a fit that James was forced to stop._

_Harry was tapping the floor with his plastic sword as he gazed off into nothing, Hayden was feeling guilty; as it were his fault, like he got all the magic while they were still in the womb. He wanted to share his power with his brother to erase the difference between them. The temperament of verum Gemini is simple; individualism is not easy, they share a very powerful bond, they are empathically and in some way physically bound, they are exactly the same height, with exactly the same hair length, with exactly the same clothes, with exactly the same scar; a jagged, lightning shape cut above the right eye. Whatever happens to one twin will happen to the other, like if one gets a haircut the other's hair will match it, but only minor changes like that will happen through the Gemini bond. Bigger things like loosing an ear or getting hurt can't pass through the bond save that the other twin will feel distress at the other's peril._

"_Don' woory' 'arry, Ah b'leaf you are spectial." Hayden said in his not yet perfect English. He refused to give up on his brother, "Mama, say you are spectial, an' Mama's ne'er wrong. Daddy wrong all the time, tha' why Mama make im sleep donstairs."_

_Harry just looked over at his brother, "Bu' Ah can' do anything, nuting appens." He said frustrated. _

_Hayden looked at he sword in his twin's hand and exclaimed, "Be a Knight!"_

_Harry furrowed up his brow in confusion, "A knight?"_

_Hayden nodded his head really fast, "Like 'n tho' stories Mama alway' tell us, 'bout knights and wizards saving prncesses,' Gred and Forge fold us 'bout a game were wizards an' knights fight togedder, we could be ike them!"_

_Slowly the light returned to Harry's eyes, he got to his feet and quickly as he could ran over to where he had last seen a plastic shield, and picking it up he held it and the sword in a dramatic pose, "Then Ah'll be the bes' knight e'er. Ah promise."_

_Haden got up and picked up a fake wizard staff modeled after the now out of date predecessors to the wand. "Then Ah'll promise to be the bes' wizard e'er." _

_Grinning the two boys laughed as a great weight was lifted off their shoulders the difference between them having been complimented by a promise to be the very best, like no one ever was, to learn be their test, to train to be their cause, to travel and search far and wide to understand the power that's inside. _

_Out of the corner of his eye Hayden saw a long white beard and a twinkling blue eye frown at the brothers through the crack at the open door, and trepidation filled Hayden as he felt as if his life was about to change and not for the better. _

_**Flashback end…**_

Hayden was reeling at the memory, his brother, his fought his own _brother_. "How could have I forgotten?" tears welled up in his eyes as he tried to steady his rapidly growing breathing. He had to think his mind was clearer then it has been in a long time, memories of the things he had done, thing he wouldn't have done, things he _shouldn't_ have done. All those pranks he pulled, some of them were just cruel, but how could he just be so arrogant, his mum would have tanned his hide until his butt turned into leather. Despite his grades, which were top in defense, average to abysmal in all the rest, he is one of the brightest in his year right up there with Hermione Granger, to whom he truly owes an apology for being the world's biggest jerk.

He started to piece things together; memory loss = Obliviation, acting out of character = Compulsion charm, change of appearance = Polyjuice potion, attraction to Ginny = yeah right, she is not his type, total fangirl. All the solutions make some sense but none of them could have a part in it, for instance the Polyjuice would have to be administered every hour on the hour, Compulsion charms only effect minor urges like small nudges not change the entire character of the subject, that would be the Imperious curse and he could shrug it off. The only thing that makes sense is the Obliviation but it's like amnesia everything does not come flooding back in an instant.

Hayden's eyes went wide as a realization dawn on him like a bucket of cold water, an old, seldom used potion, very hard to make, used by the Ancient pureblood houses to ensure the heir would act as befitting as a head of the house. The result of the potion has all of the above, in order to become what the head of the house would interpret as the perfect heir; memory loss, attitude adjustment, and end up looking like the mini-me of the subject's father as the mother's side would be forcibly suppressed, that could subsequently block the Gemini bond with Harry. To confirm his findings he rushed down stairs to the family library to find the family tome, the Potter Grimoire, James Potter is out at a meeting with Dumbledore and won't be back for another hour. After flipping through the book he found it; the Heir Potion, considered dark because of it's nature of molding the subject, technically, against his will, it has been out of practice officially for one-hundred and fifty-seven years. Some families still practice it apparently like his _father_ and the Malfoys.

Slamming the book shut, Hayden rushed upstairs to his desk and frantically wrote a letter that nearly took up two rolls of parchment. Granted his writing is not the smallest in the school but it was more then he ever wrote in the short span of five minutes, he only hoped his mum could read it. He then called over his snowy owl, Hedwig, thinking that his brother might have called her that as well if he had gotten her. "Hey girl, listen I know I'm asking a lot out of you, but I need you to take this to my mum and brother, I don't know where they are at the moment but I'm sure you can find them, you're smart right?"

Hedwig nipped her master playfully, glad that he is truly acting like himself, before the letter was tied to her leg and she flew out on her very important mission. Hayden had one skill that he could pride himself in and that was thinking on his feet, he knew that if he just packs up and leaves Dumb-as-a-door will be pulling Europe apart looking for him. It was the same situation when he and mother and brother parted company…

_**Flashback…**_

_Hayden watched his twin sleep face-down in his bed, Harry had recovered but Lily and the healers were up all night keeping him from dying, Hayden didn't get much sleep last night as he was scared to death for his brother. If Harry had died he didn't know what he'd do, blame his father for a start, it is his fault that Harry is like this, all hurt and covered in bandages with ointments and salves coating his back._

_He had never seen Mama that mad before she looked ready to sentence his father to the couch forever or in the doghouse, personally Hayden things nothing is too bad for James Potter, it happens when you harm one twin the other, no matter how much respect he has for that person, will loose it completely._

_Mama came in the room with a flourish and started waving her wand at almost everything; clothes, some toys, children's books and such paraphernalia flew through the air and shrank as they placed themselves into the trunk that followed her. "Mama, wha' are you doing?" Hayden asked a little frightened._

"_We are leaving, sweetheart," she knelt down to her son's height as she spoke to him, hoping to get him to understand. "I don't trust Daddy anymore he had hurt Harry, and I don't want him to hurt you two again."_

_Hayden shook his head furiously, Lily thought he was rejecting the idea of leaving, but what came out of Hayden's mouth surprised her, "'e is not my Daddy, he is a bad man, he 'urt 'arry." He said with such finality Lily was both shocked and impressed with his maturity. She thought Hayden might refuse to see his father in a bad light as children usually idolize their parents to huge proportions, but she guessed that hurting his brother crossed a huge line, such is the way of verum Gemini._

_Hayden was quickly enveloped in a hug, "I'm glad you understand, Hayden."_

_Hayden hugged back saying, "I'm not 'ayden I'm 'arry." He joked taking his que from the Weasley twins. _

_Lily chuckled even with everything that has just happened one of her witty sons could still crack jokes, but it wasn't the same without Harry trying to back up his brother's claim. She disengaged herself from Hayden and went back to packing, making sure to get the essentials, Hayden stayed by Harry holding his brother's hand, his back itched from the scars he received from the bond that have transferred painlessly to him to match his twin's back. Hayden furrowed his brow as he remembered hearing something last night when he got thirsty while waiting up for his brother to get better…_

_**Flashback flashback…**_

_Hayden had just gotten a drink of water from the kitchens and have been reassured by Missy, the family house-elf, that 'Master Harry' will be just fine, the reassurances hardly did anything for the young wizard as he slowly made his way back to his and Harry's room like a condemned man, it was something that no child should do. As he walked past his father's study he stopped, was it his imagination or was his father talking to someone?_

_He couched down low and crept to the door and listened with determination. "Why did you tell her?" an old voice asked, Hayden knew that voice with was 'Dumbdoor' the old wizard, Hayden never really like 'Dumbdoor' because 'Dumbdoor' didn't like Harry._

"_Albus, you know how smart Lily is, she would have figured it out anyway, and I was frustrated from listening to Hayden cry for over a bloody hour." His father's voice responded. Hayden kept from growling at the sound of his voice he was still very mad at his dad, he didn't even check to see if Harry was okay._

"_Yes, yes," 'Dumbdoor' responded, "the Gemini bond that links them together, truth is I had no idea that it was so powerful, maybe it's Hayden's magic that makes it so strong."_

"_Lily says that it makes the two boys one, at first I didn't believe her but then Lily showed me the scars on Hayden's back. I don't think we can move forward with our plan to get rid of Harry, because it just might hurt Hayden again." Hayden had to fight to keep his magic under control, they were talking about getting rid of his brother. No! No, he won't allow it._

"_Actually, I have an idea, but we must make haste, Lily will try to take the boys with her as soon as possible but even if she does I can make things very hard for her so she have no choice but to return with Hayden, as for the squib, it is possible to cut him off from influencing Hayden."_

_**Flashback flashback end…**_

_Hayden traced his thumb around Harry's hand tears coming to his eyes as he knew what had to be done, a choice that no five-year-old should ever make._

"_Mama."_

"_Yes, honey?" Lily responded just about done with the packing._

"_Take 'arry… and leaf me 'ere." Hayden choked out as soon as the words left his mouth he started to weep._

_Lily stopped, shocked at what her son was implying she rushed over and taking him by the shoulders looked straight into his face and said, "No, I'm not going to leave you behind, Hayden Seamus Potter, I'm not going to split the two of you up I won't!" she said in a loud whisper._

_Hayden just shook his head, "Ah, herd Dumbdoor and James say that they are goin to make thing hard for you if you take me wit you, ah don't wanna stay but ah don't wanna see 'arry hurt anymore, please just leaf me 'ere, safe 'arry."_

_Lily was breathless at the courage of her younger son, willing to stay behind while she and Harry make their escape; she was filled with such pride to have given birth to such a boy, as much as she hated herself for admitting it he was right, it was the only way,James and Dumbledore will never even consider harming him after all, while Harry is the one who needs protection. She hugged him close to her, crying as well as she whispered, "My boy, my brave little boy…"_

_**Flashback end…**_

Now seventeen-year-old Hayden knew what 'Dumbdoor' meant when he said 'cut him off from influencing Hayden' the Heir potion must have changed him enough so that the bond would be effected. He looked in the mirror and smirked, _'Well, looks like the bond is back.'_ he took his shirt off to get a better idea what his brother looks like and said "Whoa!" Harry had several scars on his torso and arms and he looked ripped, the girls must be lusting after his body, come to think of it that girl he tried to use as a shield back them must've been his girlfriend, oh boy, is he for an ass-kicking.

Then panic surged through him, his father and Dumbledore are sure to notice the new appearance and know that the potion is no longer in effect. But he soon relaxed as he remembered something Dumbledore told him about elf magic being different from wizard magic, an idea popped into his head.

"Tokky." He called.

A female elf appeared wearing a terry cloth towel around her like a toga, "Mater Hayden, I is… Master Hayden? What happened to Master Hayden?" the young elf could feel the bond to her master but was shocked at Hayden's appearance.

"It's okay," he reassured the elf, "this is how I really look, but I need a favor."

"Anything for Master Hayden." She squeaked.

"I need you to place a glamour on me to look like I usually do, and to tell no-one and I mean no-one about this, not even James Potter or your mother." He ordered, Tokky is his personal elf so she is bound to keep her silence but he wanted to make sure.

"Tokky is a good elf, Tokky keeps her silence." She said as she snapped her fingers and changed her master's appearance as per his instructions.

"Good." he said as he saw himself in the mirror, "Now we wait." He said with an evil look on his face, they will never see it coming.

* * *

_**Hogwarts…**_

Sybill Patricia Trelawney clutched to back of her armchair as her body went rigid and she said in a horse whisper, **"What has been broken and undone has been made whole, the two made one, united brothers stand with sword and staff in hand, before ancient castle wall the dark wings fall."**

She then coughed like she had a hairball stuck in her throat, "Have I said something?"

* * *

_**And cut. Well, there you have it, this chapter was easy for me to write and quite fun, and yes I did use some lines from a couple of movies and a TV show if you can guess what it is, which I do not own. So how did I do, be honest. I know things are slow right now but the next chapter is going to be full of sword-fighting goodness.**_

_**Stay tuned.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter or Skyrim, or the reference to the Ridley Scott masterpiece Legend.**_

* * *

Harry stood at the mouth of a cave that leads to something he would not head into if he was not asked of it, he tugged at strap on his black-platted armor as he mentally prepared himself for what is to come. Unlike the armor he wore when he made the deal with the Orsimer, which was more intimidating, kind of like a warrior version of formal attire, this armor was thinner, lighter, and tempered black. A flexible that has been sectioned half on one side of his chest and one on the other with a piece over his abdomen, and a plate covering his back. Around his neck is a line of black-bear fur, two small paldrons were over his shoulders, bracers adorned his arms and light weight plates on his thighs and shins with knee-pads. To Harry it looked like an off shoot of Boba Fett's armor from his favorite trilogy, not the new one (too many special effects) but the old one. Under his armor he wore a special jacket and pants made of frostbite-spider silk, one of the strongest fabrics in the world, only dragon scales or ancient basilisk hide could either match it or surpass it in density.

As thin as the plates of armor are the strength of them is disproportionate to their weight, the Companions have been keeping one step ahead with the rest of the world in the advancements of armor and steel by recreating, to the best of their ability, Skyforge Steel. In fact the blacksmiths of Jorrvaskr, the Gray-mane clan, are descended from Eorlund Gray-mane himself, the one who renewed Wuuthrad with the fires of the original Skyforge. For thousands of years they have refined their smith-craft, even when man was thrown back to the bronze-age, they forged iron and steel still. Actually several different methods of forging swords and amour can be traced back to the Grey-manes, including Cast Damascus, which was the closest they have ever got to recreate Skyforge steel without the Skyforge.

Harry has the utmost faith in the Grey-manes' ability as they take great pride in their craft and rightly so, the Orsimer are the only ones who could rival them in forging armor and weapons.

"You okay there, brother?" Eric said as finished stringing his bow. "Nerves?"

Harry nodded, "Aye."

"I get yeah, I was the same way with my trail." He is garbed in the same manner as Harry save that his armor is decorated with a variety of fangs, sort of like medals of honor, spoils that he had won, he has more hanging of the wall at his home in Jorrvaskr. Along with several furs and skulls of his more dangerous kills, the right to spoils of conquest is something the Companions are very ardent about, but to avoid overflow the spoils are buried or cremated with the warrior unless they are forged into heirlooms, it's a practice that over the course of history has been repeated by chieftains of both the Celtic and Germanic tribes of ancient Europe.

"What was your trail?" Harry asked making sure that Dawnbreaker was secure of his hip.

"I, along with Eitri Gray-mane, and Beowulf were sent to deal with what we thought was a necromancer, turned out to be a barrow-wight."

Harry shivered, among the foulest of creatures such as the dementors and lichs, there is a high-class of draugr called a barrow-wight, fell spirits that inhabit the bodies of the dead, very hard to kill as they possess the strength of bears and savagery of manticores. They also have the power to animate and enthrall the dead. Usually barrow-wights are the spirits of necromancers who have delved too greedily and too deep into the black art, they become restless after death and continue to defile the dead with their practices.

"Let's hope these vamps don't turn out to be falmer." Eric said with an amused smirk, Harry glared at him, like his mother who hates the giant spiders of the world he hates the underground race of the falmer, ever since he first heard about them in tales and legends they plagued his dreams. Eric knows this and seems to enjoy teasing Harry about his fear from time to time.

"Remind me; why am I doing this again?" Harry asked as he secured his helm which looked American ACH issue, save for the t-visor that covered his face from his brow to his jaw.

"So you can prove your worth in becoming a member of our clan under the laws of the Companions, as well as giving an old goat grief when he tries to boss around the Council of Harbingers." This time Harry did laugh, that is something he has got to see, no Harbinger is elected for being lenient, and there is no power on this Earth that can force them to do anything… except their wives and husbands respectively.

_**Flashback…**_

_Bjorn and Laura sat beside the fire with their daughter, Harry, Lily and the werewolf Remus, Bjorn knew the man was a werewolf the moment he came through the door he had fought enough of their kind to spot one at a glance. Lydia told her father the news about the reinstatement of the old marriage law, Bjorn sighed, for a moment he thought Harry had proposed to his daughter and she accepted, even though he promised not to interfere with Harry courting his girl he said nothing about not harming the boy _after _he proposed. _

"_A bold move on his part," Bjorn said referring to Dumbledore's latest underhanded maneuver, "he is sure to make quite a few divorcés very unhappy." _

_That thought had crossed Harry's mind as well, most couples got divorced for the right reasons and have moved on with their lives, even got remarried, and are now getting forced back together it's going to be a scandal. But who is going to have the balls to refuse him? The man is haled as a second Merlin for Talos's sake._

_Laura who is the most cleaver and cunning member of Bjorn's family and is more or less the power behind her husband's proverbial throne, said, "Who exactly does this Law apply to? I can't imagine that this would be the case for all the wizardborn in Europe, especially if he is trying to reunite _one_ couple." She looked pointedly at Lily._

"_As far as I know it only affects the U.K. as Dumbledore's power only extends that far, officially." Remus answered._

"_But we are not in the United Kingdoms; we are in a valley across Continental Europe, outside the bastard's jurisdiction." Harry growled._

"_Language." Lily chided, even though she agreed with her son there are some things she still draws a line at. "Harry, I'm a native-born witch to Britain, now matter where I go their laws still applies to me, its part of the I.C.W. judicial system."_

"_That's got to be confusing." Lydia commented. Then turning to her father, "Isn't there some way we can fight this?" _

_Bjorn looked pensive, this was a bit out of his area of expertise, he is a warrior more then he is a politician, he understands strength through arms and camaraderie, while he is efficient at keeping old alliances active the delicate dance of laws and loopholes is not something he is used to. "There should be but for the life of me I can't recall."_

_Laura tsked, "Honestly, a chicken can't hold a thought in its head long enough to take three steps, but compared to you those birds have the memory of a dragon." Harry had to suppress a snort at the jibe. "You could make Harry a Companion."_

_Most of the room was confused; didn't Harry already finish his training? Is he already a Companion of Jorrvaskr? Bjorn nodded gravely as did Lydia, who looked a little worried. _

"_What are you talking about? Isn't Harry already a Companion?" Lily asked._

_Bjorn shook his head, "No, I'm afraid not. Harry has trained with us and is what we call young blood, a pseudo-Companion." At Harry shocked and hurt expression Bjorn said, "You are as good as any one of us, I would stack you up against any Companion in the Nine Holds, but to officially become a Companion you have to take our rite of passage."_

"_Rite of passage?" Remus asked wondering what it is and blanching at the thought of Harry skinning a werewolf and bringing the fur back to prove his worth as a Slayer._

_As if he knew what he was thinking Bjorn assured Remus, "Nothing like hunting a werewolf or slaying a troll, that is just a minor chore we do for pay, no offence," he apologized to the werewolf. "but those we do kill have brought it upon themselves by attacking and turning innocents."_

"_In order to become a Companion, Harry, you must prove your worth in battle at the side of a Shield-Sibling, and if you prove your worth and he speaks for you at the ceremony you will become a Companion." Lydia said in a monotone. _

"_I am aware of all that you have faced Harry, I have faith that you are ready for this." Bjorn said. "If you pass the trail, Harry, there will be nothing honorary about your position here, you won't be a guest you will be a Companion. Lily will be by proxy protected by our laws too as part of the Treaty of Star and Steel." _

_Lily, Harry, Remus and Bill all looked at the matriarch with blank looks that are associated with confusion, in history of magic, those of them who had attended Hogwarts, all Bins would talk about is the Goblin Wars and the dozens of treaties that were made of broken, Lily herself could name all of them but 'Star and Steel' was one she is not familiar with._

"_When the Confederation of Wizards first formed in Europe around seven-hundred years ago they tried to put us under their control as part of their crusade, it was the first time the Companions have gone to war since Alexander the Great marched." What Laura said was news to Harry he was not aware that the Companions ever warred with anyone much less one of the greatest emperors in history, "After a year of war the Wizards finally admitted that they were out of their element, and to avoid any further loss of life, especially their life, they brought us to the peace table under their banner at which time was a seven-pronged star and our banner; the war-axe."_

"_Star and Steel." Harry muttered._

_Bjorn nodded, "The part that is relevant to you Harry is that as part of the alliance we would take any squibs they produce in their precious families, back then squibs were little more than second-class citizens, treated worse than muggle-borns, faced with exile or kin servitude. As one of us you can invoke Right to Sanctuary for your mother as she is a blood relative, they won't be able to lay a finger on her just as if she is in a church."_

_Lily was hopelessly confused, not about the treaty, that she could follow easily but the fact that this sounded like such a relevant part of wizarding history she should have heard of it while she was still at Hogwarts. "Why haven't we heard of this before? I can name at least five squibs in England, not counting my son."_

"_Dumbledore." Remus hissed under his breath, he was always been the smart one in the Marauders, being able to connect the dots is child's play for him, he regrets sometimes not taking the hat's advice and gone to Ravenclaw._

_Laura nodded, "Yes, he has been an enemy of ours for the past sixty years, while all the country's in the mainland are following the treaty, he thinks he knows best, saying that all squibs still have magical blood and that their children or grandchildren could inherit what they couldn't, it's all trollshit, I am a granddaughter by seven generations to a squib and I and my children are no more wizardborn than my husband."_

"_I believe that what really set him off was World War Two, Hitler and Grindelwald amassed a huge force of Lycanthropes and Walkyries which we encountered time and time again. When the Harbinger back then, my predecessor, learned of a werewolf den at the Polish border, he sent a regiment to take care of it, my father was among them. He told me that he witnessed was monstrous, German soldiers were lining up the prisoners not for execution by a gas chamber or firing squad, they were forcibly turning them into werewolves."_

_Harry and the other especially Remus shared in horror at what was just said, there are those that choose to be a werewolf, and others that were attacked and were unfortunate to ingest the beastblood, but to be systematically forced to be in thrall to Hircine's hunting grounds… there is no word for it._

"_The Companions laid siege to the camp, and slew every German soldier, officer and doctor, including their were-allies. The prisoners that were turned begged for death for being damned, while children were left orphaned or dead because of a failed turning. Dumbledore showed up with his Order back then when we were looting the place for anything useful, he called us murderers, saying that the Nazis are simply misguided and blind, they could have been redeemed." Harry snorted; every school-child knows that Nazi's are unrepentant, all about racism and purity of the Arian people. "A few choice words were exchanged and he has been trying to label us as dangerous murderers ever since."_

_Lily nodded, "He was the same way during the war with Voldemort, no matter what the Death Eaters did we were to only capture not kill, kept on saying that it is the right thing to do to give them a second chance."_

"_And a third chance, and a fourth." Remus growled, his tolerance of Dumbledore lessening with every memory when he held a Death Eater at wand-point and how he could have killed him, instead of letting him live so he could come back and kill again. There is no redemption for them, killing muggles and muggle-borns is a fucking sport to them._

"_So he has been censoring Britain." Harry figured, "trying to protect his people by making sure you all away with propaganda." _

_Bjorn shrugged, "Being called a bloodthirsty murderer is not so bad; the purebloods shit themselves as we walk by them."_

"_Bjorn," Laura scolded, "how can we help them?"_

"_Sorry," the Harbinger muttered, "The treaty states that an initiated Companion can extend Sanctuary to a witch or wizard on the sole condition that they are blood relatives." _

_Harry and Lily looked each other this was the solution they are looking for the loophole Dumbledore has been trying to hide for the past sixty years. But they both knew that there is a con, Harry has found it quite weird sometimes that Jorrvaskr has been lenient with him roaming Europe as he pleases, "What is the catch?" _

_With a calm look, Bjorn said, "As a Companion of Jorrvaskr, you and all that follow in your bloodline will be subject to our ways and traditions, if you had a home outside of Jorrvaskr, it will no longer be your home, you will be subject to our laws and of course you will need a new name, one that is worthy of a Companion. In a nutshell; that is the price."_

_Harry did not have to think long and hard about it, Jorrvaskr has been the closest thing to a permanent home he has ever known, all of his friends are here. Plus the thought of belonging somewhere was all he ever wanted, a place to _gohome_ to. Even though it would mean saying goodbye to a few things the benefits outweigh the costs._

"_What do I have to do?"_

_**Flashback end…**_

Harry secured the ward gauntlet, a device that when activated would produce a shield-ward, that would protect him, onto his left arm making sure it was good and tight, "Just stay close, and keep an eye on the shadows, these bastards are sneaky." Eric advised, Harry nodded as he followed his shield-brother into the dark cavern.

_**With Lily, Bill, and Remus…**_

* * *

Bill watched his boss pace the room like a restless jungle cat, back and forth, to and fro; it is truthfully starting to make him a little dizzy. He had just returned from overseeing the last of their accumulated artifacts transferred to the Master Vault under the Orsimer nation. The only things they have are the books and scrolls that Harry wanted to study and translate if he could, fortunately Harry reads the dead language quite fluently, and only rarely anymore does he have to look up a word to deduct its meaning.

Remus was enjoying the hospitality of the Slayers… err, Companions quite well, he was surprised that the Harbinger didn't cut him to pieces upon finding out his condition. The werewolf learned soon after his coming here that the Companions never automatically assume that just because a person is infected with Lycanthropsy that they are immediately evil, it's a lesson that is drilled into them during their earliest years. Remus has heard of several werewolf packs that take their hunting instincts out on deer of other prey animals during the full moon and have removed themselves from human territories. Some vampire coven's would actually pose as blood drive charities to get what they need without having to attack anyone, some of the more extreme would feed on animals as well, hardly palatable from what he understands but it is enough for them.

"If you keep pacing like that you are going to run a hole through the floor." The werewolf commented.

Lily rounded on him her nerves almost shattered at the prospect of what her son was doing at this very moment. "But my son is out there, how could you both be so bloody calm?"

"A few vampires won't even slow him down, plus he is not alone. He'll be fine." The retired Marauder said nonchalantly.

"How would you know? You haven't so much as written him in twelve years." Lily snapped.

"Lily, werewolves grow-up hearing about the Sl…Companions as children, they were our Boogieman, you know; if you don't behave the Slayers will get you. Besides the wolf in me felt his power, he is not a boy Lily, he is a man now. He doesn't need you to hold his hand."

Bill decide to take a stand, "I agree with Lupin, Harry is far from helpless, remember that giant frostbite spider in Finland, or the lich in Austria in the last two years, he will come back, he always does. Plus he has got that _Thu'um_ thing going for him."

The mention of Harry's newfound power seemed to calm the redhead witch as she remembered the last time he used it he defeated one of the greatest wizards of the age and his father in single combat. For Remus however.

"_Thu'um_? Is that what it's called?"

"Is what called?" Bill asked.

"What Harry used to defeat Dumbledore."

Lily's heart skipped a beat, "You know about that." It wasn't a question.

Remus nodded his head, "Subject of gossip in the Order nowadays, Dumbledore is getting obsessed with it saying that Harry is to be the new ace-in-the-hole in the warfront on the Death Eaters. That and the cache of enchanted weapons you guys apparently possess, Molly Weasley was particularly fond about that bit of information."

"I bet she was." Lily sneered, and then she remembered who was in the room. "Oh, I'm sorry Bill."

Bill just shrugged his shoulders, he knew what kind of person his mother is, despite being a light-sided witch she is a blood-racist, she likes muggleborns well enough but she has a tendency to pity them. She believes that the only proper witches and wizards are from pure-blooded lineages, she thinks that half-bloods have to marry purebloods to account for the 'bad blood' in their veins. She also lusts after riches and prestige which is why she wanted Bill to take a Ministry position, same with Charley, in fact maybe the reason she married his father was because he was accepted into the Ministry at a desk job and thought he might move up to a high-paying position. Too bad his father has no ambition, he rather likes where he is it's almost the ideal job for him; it's his hobby and work combined. If they would only let him transfigure his office into a garage full of muggle tools than yes it would be _the_ ideal gob for him.

Lily Evans disliked Molly Weasley, Pruett back then, for different, more personal reasons, James and Severus, her old childhood friend, used to but-heads like… well, buttheads, they were like the incarnation of the Gryffindor/Slytherin feud, but for the two red-heads it started with a betrayal of confidence that lead to Molly stealing her boyfriend, Nate Bones, a Hufflepuff. Ironically that was the same year when James 'changed' and her self-esteem was so low that she really didn't care anymore. In fact the reason she joined the Order of the Phoenix was so that she could avenge Nate after he was killed, despite having moved-on a part of her still loved him, he was truly a good man.

Remus laughed lightly, "I bet she will have a fit when she finds out the weapons are outside of Confederation jurisdiction."

"With orcs and goblins no less, '_it's not proper for those dirty orcs to possess our treasures_.'" Bill said in a good imitation of his mother.

They all shared a laugh when a snowy owl flew into the room and settled on the chair closest to Lily. The witch saw an envelope in its talons and she took it when the owl presented it with her leg.

_To Lily Evans and Harry-Gemini-Hayden Evans_

Lily's eyebrows went up at the way Harry's name was written; Harry-Gemini-Hayden is the formal wizarding way to refer to true twins as the ancients believed that they are two halves of a whole, to refer to one twin alone is considered rude and cruel as it shows individualism, so adding _Gemini-Hayden_ at the end of the first name is the polite thing to do. Curious she opened the letter and started to read;

_Mum, Harry._

_I don't have much time so I have to write this fast, please read this before you throw it away I know I didn't make much of an impression on you during our last encounter over a month ago but please believe me, it wasn't me. Before you scoff, Harry (if you are reading this over mum's shoulder) there are things that you don't know about the wizarding world like the fact that those with power abuse those without, even Dumbledore. It's a truth that you more than anyone else should know, it even happened to me a few days after you left._

_The Most Noble and Ancient houses have a ritual for dealing with troublesome heirs called the Heir Potion, it basically brings out the traits that the brewer wants in his heir, I guess James wanted me to be just like him because my entire being was rewritten to be a total asshole. My eyes were proof of this, for years they were hazel but they just turned green again when the bond was remade between me and Harry. I think it was done when Harry caught me stealing that sword, sorry about that, and when he took it back our hands must've brushed together. Our bond was always at its strongest when we held hands, remember mum? I think it created a chain reaction that negated the potion. You might have to ask Sirius Black as I am sure he would know more on the subject._

_If you have not been updated by Uncle Remus, who by the way Dumbledore knows is in contact with you so tread lightly, Voldemort has been rather slow in his campaign it's like he is waiting for something to set it off. Dumbledore is worried as I once heard him say that snake-face is not one to sit idly by while he has the power. If he is bidding his time I suggest you stay wherever you are, because he might be unsure which twin is the real BWL as long as he doesn't know where Harry is he won't move. That's my theory anyway._

_I know this sounds contrived, but please believe me, this is not a trick._

_Your son; Hayden-Gemini-Harry_

Lily read and reread the letter wanting to believe it but at the same time she has her reservations, it's just too good to be true if this is a trap then it's a stupid one, like she would fall for something like this. She handed the letter to Remus who in turn read it with Bill reading over his shoulder. "Bill, could this be true about a bond being remade?"

The Weasley shrugged, "How should I know? I have two brothers who happen to be twins but that don't make me an expert on the Verum Gemini bond."

Lily snatched back the letter and ignited it with the tip of her wand, "Listen closely, Harry will not hear about this until I decide weather or not this is real." When Bill looked like he was ready to argue she continued, "Dumbledore is a zealot for the greater good, he cannot be trusted with an individual life, and to him Harry is a means to an end nothing more. I will not have him using both my children as pawns in this war. Not when one could be saved."

_**With Harry and Eric…**_

* * *

Two human guards were standing sentry as per their instructions by their master, the poor bastards never questioning their orders, and do as they were told scouring the tunnel for hours and hungry as hell. The thralls are not loyal by choice, a vampire, more often an elder has the power to bend others to his will to make them completely subservient and obedient, the wizardborn once tried to replicate this power in the form of a curse only for it to not even measure up to half it's original power.

A sound like a sharp whistle in the air hummed as an arrow struck the first in the head and a _thunk_ sounded as a dirk plunged into his partner's chest. Both fell dead as the two black armored figures closed in on the bodies, the smaller of the two, Harry, wrenched his knife free pausing only to look on the face of the man he killed, feeling regret but mostly pity for the thralls; they can never be free even if they kill the vampire that bound them, death is the only way to release them from their servitude.

"First human kill?" Eric asked as he saw Harry's slight hesitation.

Harry nodded as he wiped the knife clean and stuck it back in its sheath.

"It never gets easy, but they could never become human again they lost their humanity when they became enslaved. This was a kindness." Eric said firmly, the usual easy-going manner gone; Harry was still getting used to seeing his best friend like this; unhesitant, focused, ready, willing and able to take a life. The two made their way deeper into the caverns in the earth, with Harry holding Dawnbreaker aloft like a torch, its light only glowing enough to illuminate the walls nearby and the floor two yards away. Eventually they came to the entrance to a huge cavern. It was well lit by what could only be a spell of some sort as Harry and Eric could see no torches or lights of any kind.

Eric knelt behind a stalagmite and Harry followed suit on a neighboring stone pillar, "There are about two dozen of them." Eric whispered in shock was his information inaccurate because of negligence or did more arrive before they did?

"Not counting the thralls." Harry's eyes scanned the walls of the cave where the human slave-warriors stood at the ready. Carved into the wall of the cave was a figure that stood ten feet tall, it was humanoid in shape, but with reptilian features, namely it's claws and tail, with the head of a goat. The vampires have pale skin and thin faces as though they lived their lives hungry, and their eyes are slightly slanted and solid red like blood. All of them are wearing black cloaks which Harry found odd as he knew that vampires are not traditionalists but survivors, why are they wearing cloaks?

"Too many for us to tackle head on, it be suicide to try." Eric observed, "We hardly have any advantage other then the element of surprise."

"Element." Harry whispered, "Eric you're a genius."

"What?" Eric was confused as to what his shield-brother was trying to say.

"Vampires don't like fire much, do they?" Harry raised his hand a dark purple light the size of a softball started to glow on his palm.

'_A conjuring spell.'_ Eric thought, recognizing the small orb.

Harry shoved his hand outward, a sound like a steel ringing filled the air around him as a larger version of the orb appeared in the middle of the cave, a much larger version about the size of an elephant, the vampires started when they saw it but when the orb vanished they scattered. Where the sphere once stood was a huge, towering being made of fire, the moment the vampires saw it they started to run and like a cat chasing a mouse the flame Antioch flew with great speeds burning anything it can get its hands on.

Eric smirked, the wizarding U.K. had no idea what they threw away, Harry is one resourceful bastard, just because he was not born with abnormally high levels of magica didn't mean that there are other ways to learn it. The magic Harry learned from the dozens of dusty old books are the lost Elder Magics, the very foundation of the modern wizarding world's magic; they range from healing wounds to lighting up passage ways to even conjuring huge elemental beings. Harry grimaced as he felt a chunk of his Magica, magical energy, drain. Unlike the wizardborn who are quick to recover and possess large stores of born-Magica, Harry had to build his from scratch, every being has a bit of Magica in order to live, but what few people know is that the Magica core is like a muscle that can be exercised and built by performing magic, but there is a limit to what Harry can do. Harry is by no means a powerful caster but he knows enough smaller things to get him by like healing minor wounds and lighting up a dark room. Conjuring and wards are the only battle-related magics he studied as he doesn't want to become overly-reliant on magic to help him but at the same time doesn't want to be severely limited to a sword and shield.

"Let's hurry, a conjuration that size won't last long with my reserves as they are." Harry said as he readied Dawnbreaker, which by now is glowing fiercely. Eric nodded and together they charged into the confused mass, Eric holding his sword and shield at the ready and Harry with Dawnbreaker in his right hand and his dirk in the other.

Harry charged the closest vampire to him and before it could react Harry plunged the dirk into it's heart with practiced accuracy then swiftly spun around performing a sweeping slash with Dawnbreaker at the throat of a thrall who failed to come to it's aid. Another vampire, a female, saw Harry take down one of her kind and rushed forward brandishing talon like fingernails that could leave scars in stone. Harry ducked under her wild swing stepping to the right and once again plunging his dirk in the heart.

Unbidden to his lips upon seeing the vampires and thralls recover from the shock of the flame Antioch and turned their attention to the intruders he shouted, _**"Yoltoorshul!"**_ a blast of flames erupted from his mouth like dragon's fire and engulfed a group of vampires and a few thralls in a blaze. Upon seeing this, the rest of the vampires started to back off; some ran away but the rest regrouped against the warriors.

Out of the group which now had to consist of seventeen a voice was heard, "Your power is impressive mortal; do I have the honor of addressing the Companions of Jorrvaskr?" a figure stepped out of the throng of the undead, Harry and Eric could not see his face as it is shadowed by a cowl but the hands is something they did see, they looked like claws; human yet not human almost reptilian, behind him they saw something move, a tail?

"What are you, are you in league with these vampires?" Eric demanded answers.

The figure laughed in its throat, "Very much so, we have a long, _long_, history." Several of the vampires looked at the figure nervously. Harry's heart started pounding like mad, this aura the figure is radiating overwhelmed him, it felt eerily familiar yet completely different from something he once felt before, but his mind is so occupied by the presence of the vampires that he could not remember what or where.

Even though Harry could not see the stranger's face he knew that his gaze locked on Dawnbreaker, he heard a noise like a hiss from an angry snake when he said, "…always had it in for me…" and "…mind her own business…"

Eric, not liking the fact that Harry almost froze, demanded, "What are you and what is your connection to this coven?"

The figure turned his harsh gaze on Eric, "Normally I would be willing to give you that information, but since your friend here holds Dawnbreaker in his hand, I am unwilling to acquiesce to your request."

"So you know that blade." Eric nodded his head to the sword in Harry's hand.

The figure became quiet and the silence was heavy, "I'll make you a deal; if you fulfill your quest and slay this little coven," he waved his hand to the vampires behind him, "I will tell you what you want to know."

"I don't trust you, you'll just disappear in-"

"He won't." Harry cut across him, "He has to uphold the deal, and that's an iron-clad law for his kind."

"So you figured it out?" The figure sneered.

"I know what you are, but I hope to Talos that I'm wrong." Harry said just barely above a whisper.

The figure laughed loudly as he turned and walked in to the throng of vampires. "Kill them!" he ordered. Without hesitation the vampires charged the duo. Seeing the danger before him Harry's breathing become eerily calm as he brought Dawnbreaker to his face in a salute, the warrior in him taking over his being, the same feeling when he fought the lich and the powerful draugr. "Sovrngard beckons."

Eric took out a roll of parchment and raising it above his head caused fire to erupt out of the scroll and envelop his hands. Out of the corner of his eyes Harry saw what his shield-brother was doing and, diving into whatever reserves he had left, pumped as much magical as he could into the ward gauntlet. The fire exploded like an ignited gas main taking several of the vampires with them while the flames liked against the shimmering blue light of Harry's ward as they circled around him. When the rest of their party hesitated, Harry without missing the window of opportunity, charged them spinning in with Dawnbreaker leaving behind a ring of light in its trail. It slashed across the chest of the nearest vampire he could reach, blue flames ignited on its body causing it to scream in pain before the fire burst out in a shockwave. Harry would have been mesmerized by the power Dawnbreaker displayed but all of his focus was on his next kill.

Eric discarded his shield deciding to go on the all-out offensive; he took a war axe from his belt and made short work of the nearest vampire he could reach by side-stepping a swipe with its talons and plunging his sword into its chest then pulling it out spun around and beheaded it with the axe. A thrall stabbed at him with a spear as Harry parried the strike, crouched low while spinning and cut open his thighs severing the major arteries in the legs. He was soon standing up again, weaving in and out his heightened battle reflexes guiding his motions.

Harry parried and blocked a vampire that seemed to have some experience fighting, he moved to dodge what he thought was a thrust only for it to be a feint; it slashed its claws across Harry's face causing him to hiss in pain a retreat a few steps. The vampires saw the opportunity and charged for the killing blow. Harry's eyes shimmered as he inhaled and shouted out of reflex, _**"Tiidkloul!" **_the world around him pulsated and everything continued to move, but in slow motion. Ignoring the pain in his face he rushed forward and made short work of them not needing to behead them as Dawnbreaker seemed to circumvent the normal way to kill a vampire. The effects of the 'time shout' did not last long, when normal time returned the vampires exploded in blue flames any survivors that did not get cut by Harry's blade got killed by the shockwave of blue fire.

Harry turned to Eric who was holding of the last group of thralls, and again he shouted, _**"Wuldnahkest!" **_the world blurred around him as he shot forward like a bullet, beheading a thrall as he zoomed by then turning around and threw is dirk end over end into the back to the last thrall.

Eric raised his bloody sword in salute, "Good shot brother."

"I was aiming for his head." Harry growled his battle-rage still having a hold on him.

Eric suddenly threw his axe at Harry who side-stepped it out of reflex even though it would miss him and embedded itself in the head of the last thrall that they overlooked.

"Thanks." Harry said.

Eric grunted, "I aint dragging your dead ass back to Jorrvaskr so your mother will kill me."

"Saving my hide to preserve yours."

"Believe it, brother." Eric grinned. Then the two Companions heard the sound of slow clapping, they turned to the source of the noise to find the figure that had spoken before.

"Now that brings back memories," he said, "It has been over thousands of years since I heard the _Thu'um _let alone that many shouts. But you are not used to it yet aren't you, Harry Evans?"

Harry flinched at the sound of his name, this is not good, "What are you talking about?"

The figure raised three fingers, "First; you used the full shouts every time when the first two parts would have been sufficient. Second; it looked unintentional like a reflex which means you have no control over it. And third; as I have said before, you are not used to it."

Harry's body which has been standing up solely by the effects of stubbornness and adrenaline started to shake violently as fatigue set in as the latter started to ware off, he fell to his knees as lost the energy to stand up. _'Is this a side effect of using the thu'um?' _he thought frantically, it never accrued to him that there would be a price for using the power and now he is in deep trouble he barely has any energy to stand let alone fight.

"I did promise to tell you who I am if you won, didn't I?" the figure removed his hood revealing a goat-like head complete with horns, **"I am Molag Bal, the Daedric Prince of Domination, rape, corruption, slavery and vampirism."**

_**Unknown location…**_

* * *

Inside the dark room, a fire in a great hearth is crackling fiercely casting eerie shadows on the stone gargoyles that decorated the mantle. Before the fire is a high backed chair from one's point of view only an arm could be seen perched on the armrest near the platter laden wit fruits meats and cheeses accompanied with a bottle of a very rare bottle of wine from Italy, even though the figure in the chair despises muggles he knows when to give credit where credit is due. The man, if he could still be called that, stared deep into the flames pondering the tremor he had felt before once about a month ago then a week or so later and again just recently. For the uncounted time he cursed the name of the traitor, who turned on his own _kind_. He now lives in the shadow of his legacy, before his defeat he was all powerful, immortal, no force could stop him but now he is only a fragment of what he used to be. "My curse on you." He snarled at the memory of the one he was wrong to trust.

There came a heavy knock at the door. "Enter!" he commanded.

The door creaked open and a robed figure seemed to glide in, wearing clothing that muggles would call gothic-vampire, her hair fell over her shoulders in dark waves and her thin haunted face, which was once very beautiful, now has a haunted look to it almost crazed.

"Ah, Bellatrix, come closer." The witch, Bellatrix obeyed and came before the seated figure in the chair, kneeling before him. The arm that rested on the armrest rose up and pointed at her. "Are you not the most loyal of my followers?"

The witch smiled a bit, "Truly I am, master."

"Is your heart black and full of hate?"

"I hate what you hate, if you hate the world then so do I." She pronounced with a crazed look.

"That is why I have summoned you, you have been a good apprentice but now I am in need of a Right Hand; one to carry out my most important missions and succeed unlike those bumbling fools or dare to call themselves my most faithful."

She bowed her head, "A rare privilege, my Lord."

After a silence the figure spoke again, "Something troubles me, many years ago I faced a mother protecting her children, twins, identical, I froze her and made her watch as I chose which of her children would die first. I sensed that one was a wizard but the other was not but held a terrifying power I thought lost to the void of time."

"But master," Bellatrix dared speak, placing her wand hand in the armrest, "there is only the magic of our people."

In a swift motion the figure grabbed an ornate silver knife from the food platter and slashed down on the hand drawing blood. "Fool! Let this serve as a reminder, that not that glitters is gold, that not all precious stones are diamonds and gems, and that not all magic belongs in one form or another!"

Cradling her injured hand the witch nodded meekly, "Yes, my Lord, forgive my rashness."

"I don't forgive _arrogance_," he placed the bloody knife on the platter, "experience has proven that arrogance will be the death of the most powerful, and you are of no use to me if you are dead."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Of the twins that survived me, one you may know as Hayden Potter, the son of your greatest rival, Lily Evans, he has great potential but his power is blunted by his hubris. But the other one I do not know of, Harry, I believe his name is, is on the mainland, raised by his mother from what my spies have told me. I need to know more about him, for he might have the power to face me as an equal, or it could be his brother. I need to know before I put any effort into killing either one of them again."

"It shall be done, my Lord." Bellatrix bowed her head, "Where shall I start?"

"They were last seen in Denmark, start there."

"Yes, my Lord." The witch bowed and got up to her feet and left the room leaving her master to ponder once more.

"Harry Evans." He whispered if he is what he thinks he is he will not make the mistake of underestimating him. "After all these years could the Dovahkiin still exist." Red eyes flashed with power, power and hunger that he has not been able to sate for thousands of years, "I will become immortal again when I devour you, Harry Evans." Voldemort chuckled maniacally.

* * *

**Sorry for the delayed update, this chapter had to go through a rewrite as it originally drifted from the story to a path that was not good, plus I got a teaching job at my Taekwon Do studio so my updates will be a while sorry about that. **

**Anyway, please have mercy on my atrocious grammar and tenses **

**I fixed that little Alexander thing that everyone has been brow beating me about so there.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A.N. To all of you whinny grammar freaks out there, you know who you are, I have acknowledged that I could use some help and have found a Beta to help with my grammar and such, I hope that this will make this a more enjoyable story for all of us and now chapter eight…**

**Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter or Skyrim.**

* * *

Hayden, under the guise of the glamour that made him look like a miniature of his father, walked down the cobbled street of Diagon Ally, school would be starting in a week and children and parents were rushing like mad going from one shop to another. No-one stopped to pay him the slightest attention. He had to cover himself in a weather-worn cloak because he was too recognizable to go out in public without having dozens of people tailing him like lost puppies. His father, after he slipped Hayden the Heir potion, started to show him off in public and with him changed into what the Potter head thought of as an ideal son basked in the attention, something that he would never have done if he could have helped it.

As excited as he was to be back to his true self, he wasn't an idiot; it would only be a matter of time before 'Dumbdoor' found out the potion was no longer in effect. The only thing he could do was prepare for the upcoming confrontation and to do that he would have to start with being able to ward off the headmaster's favorite way of reading people, Legilimency, by learning Occlumency. However, Hayden soon realized that the bookstores in Diagon Ally didn't have the texts he needed. Occlumency, apparently, was taught from master to student directly. Of course, there used to be books on the subject until Cornelius 'Paranoia' Fudge banned them for some tripe reason.

Even though the main street of the wizarding shopping center couldn't help him, there was always … the alternative. Rumor in Hogwarts was that you could find anything in Knockturn Ally. Would it be shady? Very much so. Illegal? Sometimes.

Hayden turned into the opening of the more crooked and dark ally. He immediately ordered Tokky to dispel the glamour on him, he couldn't afford to be caught. A thin layer of fog coated the ground and the walls are covered with things he would rather not guess.

There were fewer people here, all of them either wearing cloaks or something to hide their identities. A hunched-over old woman walked by him and knocked into his shoulder. She turned to glare at him and Hayden saw a long gnarled nose, a withered face and sharp teeth. Hayden's heart skipped a beat; that was too close; hags do not like to be touched, not even by accident.

Hayden read every sign of every store he passed, which was difficult, the letters on most of them had faded and others were missing. It wasn't until Hayden asked someone in a brown cloak with a facemask wearing a utility bandoleer where he could find rare books that he was pointed in the right direction. To his confusion it was a pub called '_The Crock_'. Shrugging, he walked in only to pause in confusion at the strange porthole window in the door: diamond-shaped with a circle in the middle.

The pub was dimly lit with a thin haze of smoke in the air. All the patrons talked in low whispers and wore cloaks with cowls covering their faces. The ones nearest to the door stopped to look at him, the newcomer. Hayden felt unnerved at this kind of attention, like he was being appraised at an auction. What did he get himself into? After a while of leering at him, the patrons went back to their conversations and Hayden did his best to ignore them as he made his way to the counter to speak to the barkeep.

"Excuse me." He said as he tried to catch the old man's attention. The man looked up at Hayden with disinterest like the boy was not worth his time.

"Are you a patron?" he asked in a gruff no-nonsense tone.

"I need information." Hayden replied.

"And I need to get the missus something golden for our fiftieth anniversary. If you want to talk, then take a walk." The man had no time for half-baked kids who thought they were being cool by roaming around Knockturn Ally.

"Fine I'll have what ever mead you recommend," he pulled out a handful of Galleons, "and a book on Occlumency."

The man looked at the small stack of gold coins then at Hayden, then at the coins again. He took the stack and placed it in a Mokeskin pouch, before placing a pint of honey colored liquid before Hayden.

Hayden had never really thought about mead until the bond started to reform between him and Harry, so he attributed his newfound fascination to his brother's love for the liquid. He took a sip and his eyebrows went up, '_Harry is on to something here, this stuff is better than Ogden's Firewhisky that father gave me for my seventeenth birthday._'

"What about the book?"

The man grinned smugly, "You read too many spy novels. I just took the money as a tip for excellent service." Hayden was about to tear the barkeep a new one when the man grabbed his wrist, "Listen kid, if you want to play this game you play it smart, consider it a lesson in the world you are getting involved in, generosity and paying up front are two easy ways to get robbed." He nodded his head to the side in a gesture that Hayden knew meant 'this way.' "Gregory! I'm going upstairs, watch the pub."

A young man with auburn hair said, "Yes sir."

"And if Fletcher comes in here throw him out; this is a pub not a trading outpost."

The bartender lead him up a flight of rickety stairs that Hayden wasn't sure would hold him. He led him to a dark wooden door with the roman numeral IV peeling off from lack of care, the innkeeper knocked in a rhythm that went; Tap…tap-tap…tap-tap-tap…tap. A smooth, exotic voice answered, "Come in."

The old man opened the door and pretty much shoved Hayden inside the room. Although dark, it was very warm. It was nearing the end of a rather hot summer and someone had a fire blazing in the fireplace. Over by a lopsided table illuminated by the glow of the flame sat a creature that Hayden had never seen before now. It looked humanoid with bipedal limbs and clothing, but it's features were those of a cat. It's exposed skin is covered in fur with stripped markings, longer fur, like hair, on it's head, was braided and adorned with gold rings long with several gold hoops pierced in it's ears, and a tail waved subtlety behind him.

"First time seeing a khajiit?" it asked Hayden when it saw his astonished look. It grinned showing Hayden that everything about it was feline. The young wizard nodded, he had seen goblins, met half-giants, and of course one of his uncles is a werewolf but this takes the cake. "So, why are you here so that dear Bartholomew would think you are in need of my services?"

"I just asked for directions and they said I could find the book I'm looking for here." Hayden answered poorly.

The bartender, Bartholomew, chuckled, as if the reason for Hayden being here was funny, "That's an old one, if it's a book you want go to _Flourish and Blots._ I'm pretty sure they're having a sale on the Lockhart books; ninety-nine percent off ever since it was discovered he is a fraud."

"The ministry prohibits the selling of these books, and I want to learn Occlumency without certain people knowing." Hayden tried to explain but he was brushed off.

The Khajiit's tail flicked, "Do you know how these purchases are made here?" it asked to which Hayden shook his head in a 'no' gesture.

"It's simple," Bartholomew growled, "what happens in _the Crock_ stays in _the Crock_ as it is everywhere else in Knockturn Ally. Along with the object you buy, you also buy discretion. If you ever betray that discretion you will earn the black mark and trust me when I say it's something that you do not want." The old man said in an ominous way that made the hairs on the back of Hayden's neck stand up.

"I'll agree to whatever," Hayden snapped, "I need the book now. The next time my mind gets read it could put my brother in jeopardy."

"It sounds like you have an emergency, cub, hmm. Do you need to learn the art of Occlumeny or do you just need to protect your mind?" The Khajiit asked as it got up from its chair and walked over to a chest at the foot of its bed.

"Protect my mind." Hayden answered.

"Then I have just the thing." it stood up holding a silver torc in its hands,

_**With Harry…**_

Harry, supported by Eric, felt a twinge of fear for his soul, standing in the presence of Molag Bal, the inspiration for one of the most common forms of the devil. Considered to be among the worst of the Daedra, Molag Bal, according to the lore Harry read up on, reveled in pain and submission. Eric's reaction to the announcement was no less startling, growing up in Jorrvaskr he heard tales of the primeval beings. They were the things that the Companions feared and hated; his only wish was that he would never meet one.

Molag Bal grinned, a look that one should never see on a goat's face. **"Fear, yes, you are rank with it, right you are to be afraid."**

Harry with what strength he had left raised Dawnbreaker ready to ward the Daedra off, "It's you who should be afraid." He snarled at Molag Bal, then he whispered, "Do not fear him he will feed of any submissiveness you feel." to Eric who nodded, steeling himself against this new enemy.

"**So, you know about me, did Meridia send you or are you here under a different vocation?"** The Daedra asked.

"I don't answer to you." Harry spat, keeping his composure.

"**But you do answer to Meridia, do not think I haven't heard of you Dovahkiin, we all have; the newest champion, the first one to take a quest in thousands of years. I just wanted to see the cut of your jib, after all, did you know that most of the Deadra once shared a champion?"** at the stunned look on Harry face, he chuckled, **"I'll take that as a 'no.' Yes, that Dovahkiin was immensely powerful, far more powerful than you. You can't even control your **_**Thu'um**_** how do you expect to complete Meridia's quest? You think that sword would be enough to kill him, you have no idea what you are dealing with, do you?"**

Confused, Harry asked, "What are you talking about?"

"**I have witnessed the rise of thousands of dark lords but they have never undergone a physical change no matter how evil they become or how many times they split their soul. Do you get it now? Voldemort is not really human." **Molag Bal said very slowly as if he was spelling things out for a very dimwitted person.

What the Daedric Prince said resonated in Harry's mind and the dream of the red-eyed man flashed before his eyes, how he looked almost reptilian with pointed teeth. Eric's eyes regarded the Daedra with a hard gaze, something was strange here. "Why are you telling us this, what's the price?" he knew full well that the Daedra never told anyone anything out of the goodness of their hearts. It was all done in deals, give and take. Nothing was free when it comes to them.

"**Mistrust will keep you alive, mortal."** Molag Bal grinned at Eric, **"That's good. The reason I am telling you this is because there is a war on the horizon, there has been for close to thirty years, and as you know, all Deadra have a corner in the chaos of war; two factions fighting for the domination of each-other, women getting raped by soldiers who haven't felt the warmth of a woman in months, the corruption of politicians stabbing each-other in the back for power, slaves who couldn't save themselves, being forced to work for their masters. We all benefit from it. The wars in the middle east of been good appetizers, but a wizard's war is sweet and this one will be sweeter than a rare wine; Dovahkiin, Voldemort and Dumbledore facing each-other in bloodbath, it will be the Fight of the Age!" **by the time he finished, he wore a crazed look of his face a look befitting of a being like him it sent shivers down Harry's spine.

Harry had felt powerless when he met Meridia, but now he understood why she was considered among the more benevolent of the Daedra: Molag Bal did not just get his power from dominance and rape, he craved it, yearned for it to spread as far as it can. The Daedric Princes had no conscience; they were fearsome monsters with no compassion and no mercy. Silently he weighed his options; as far as he knew there was no way to repel a Daedra, fighting would be suicidal. On the other hand the Daedra had him and Eric at his mercy, the only way he will survive is to pledge service to him, a repulsive idea.

Eric on the other hand knew one thing about the Daedra, they are not of this world they belong to the planes of Oblivion, in order for them to come here they needed a shrine or something to act as a medium in order for them to interact with this plane of existence. He slowly moved his eyes around the cavern trying to find an alter, even a statue would be enough for Molag Bal to… statue. His eyes darted to the bust he saw the vampires milling around before they attacked; there, it was a goat's head with eerily human features.

_**With Hayden…**_

Hayden held the torc in his hands, feeling the twisted metal and examining the spiral patterns on the ends, he was curious as to how this is supposed to guard his mind. As if it knew what he was thinking the Khajiit explained, "It's enchanted,"

"Enchanted!?" Hayden exclaimed, enchanted objects weren't everyday trinkets but artifacts from a golden era of magic. They are exceedingly rare, he knows this because it has been the topic of conversation in the Order ever since he met his mum and Harry again.

The khajiit grinned, these British wizards had no inkling of what really goes on beyond their shores. There is a college on the shores of northern Poland where wizards devote their lives trying to recreate the lost art with good results, Winterhold College, one of the oldest structures to date still standing after thousands of years. "There is more than what goes beyond your borders, cub, the wizarding world has moved forward in many advancements and accumulation of mundane culture including medicinal techniques, potions and spells are used to combat cancer including a few more nasty types that are unique to wizards, CPR, even intensive psychological and physical therapy for people who have undergone the cruciatus curse." The khajiit titled its head, "Muggle Studies at Hogwarts is outdated by a full century! You have no clue how far behind you all are."

Hayden stared in amazement, was this true? Was wizarding Britain that far behind in the times? Hermione always said that they had an outdated barbaric way of things.

"Well I'll be toddling off to my pub, some of us have to work after all, Sereph." Bartholomew grunted, it had been worth coming up those blasted stairs with his fibromyalgia to see the lad's reaction at being informed that his country is becoming outdated.

"Schlepping drinks to thieves and liars, oh truly an honorable job." The khajiit, Sereph, fired back at the old man.

"At least I don't go from country to country selling trinkets like buttons at the door for a living." He shot back with a small smile.

"At least I have adventures at my age you fossil."

"At least _I_ have a mate."

Sereph was silent for a while then he said, "I have nothing."

Bartholomew laughed as he left the room; Hayden realized that these two are actually old friends the way they carry on like that. "Sereph… may I call you Sereph?" the khajiit nodded. "Why are we so behind the times? If what you say is true then wizarding Britain is essentially a laughing stock."

"Chalk it up to three words;" Sereph placed the torc on the table, "propaganda, bigotry and paranoia."

"Excuse me?"

Sereph grinned mockingly, "The Ministry of Magic controls the press and everything they print, down to the very last word, is about how great and powerful they are in their strong, traditional way of life. How magic is perfect the way it is. The purebloods have been in power for centuries, and have a general dislike for the new and foreign, in other words muggleborns. Muggleborns bring the potential to move forward because of their connections with the outside world. New regimes always replace the old ones. All muggleborns in their eyes are a threat and that's why there is so much bigotry towards them, to keep them from being employed in a position where they would have any political power. All the imports and exports are strictly monitored by the Ministry keeping the public ignorant about everything that goes on beyond their shores making them think that they are as advanced as the rest of the wizarding world, the truth is if they knew the truth about the advancements being made today, like in Winterhold College, they would loose much business as many of these shops are sadly outdated the economy would crash. It's the reason why places like Knockturn Ally exist. They are the only way to get real imports and exports in your little backwards country. So you have to deal with the black market."

_**With Harry and Eric…**_

Eric glanced at the statue and silently cursed himself for not bringing explosives; one good grenade would take that thing down like the Jericho Wall, he glanced at Harry and wondered if he had anything in his limited magica repertoire that could cause significant damage. He should've counted his blessings, they defeated the vampires because they came prepared to fight them with fire and Harry's sword, but now Harry hardly had a leg to stand on because he wore himself out by over doing it with the _thu'um._

"What do you want with us?" Harry asked weakly, the Daedra looked at him with a bored expression. To him humans were but a means to an end, insubstantial in the grand scheme of things. If it wasn't for the fact they could cause such massive amounts of chaos and engage in such depravity, he wouldn't even spare them a single thought.

"**Nothing, for now, I just wanted to see how you would handle yourself in a situation like this," **Molag Bal huffed, **"I'm not impressed, you exhausted yourself fighting a measly band of vampires I had practically gift-wrapped for you. If this is the extent of your power then you are unworthy of the name Dovahkiin. If you are to entertain me in the upcoming war, then you had best do better."**

"It's a wizard's war; it has noting to do with me." Harry growled, once again denying the fact that he will take part in the conflict between two powerful wizards.

Molag Bal grinned, **"You have no idea how much it does involve you, not as the Boy-Who-Lived, heh, foolish title, but as the Dovahkiin there are powers in this world that would devour it, powers that hunger and do nothing but hunger, Voldemort is one of those powers as he was a long time ago."**

"A long time? Try seventeen years, hardly long by your standards." Harry said in a snarky tone. Molag Bal glared at him for his attitude. It was against his nature to allow this mortal to talk to him like that even if there was no insult, the way he said it was lacking of respect.

"**You would do well to mind your tongue boy, I will not be spoken to like this by a mud-scrounging human."**

"Harry, you got one more shout in you?" Harry glanced at Eric who shifted his eyes in the direction of the statue and Harry understood what he meant.

"Do you know what the difference is between a Daedra and a human is?" Harry asked rhetorically.

Tilting its head, the Daedra regarded him curiously, **"What?"**

"This…" Harry inhaled deeply and on focusing on what he wanted let the shout burst out of him _**"FUS…RODAH!"**_The last thing he saw before he collapsed into darkness was a giant wave of energy rushing into the statue making it explode outward and the angry cries of the Daedric Prince as he vanished into Oblivion.

_**With Hayden…**_

Hayden walked down the stars with the silver torc around his neck; he could feel the enchantment working like a warm cocoon was wrapped around his head. He silently wondered if this would be worth the price he had to pay, hell his first _broom_didn't cost that much, only time would tell if it was worth it. He still had his hood up and when he entered the pub once more several of the closer patrons stopped talking to look at him before returning to their conversations.

"So how did your little transaction go?" Bartholomew asked as Hayden retook his place at the bar.

"Good enough to need another drink, I think I used up all of my savings from my first year." He tapped the bar.

"You know that mead is eighteen to twenty proof, it's no light beer; you have to take it easy." Bartholomew poured another glass and was about to put it away when Hayden grabbed the bottle and placed it next to his glass, "Your money, your hangover." Bartholomew muttered, "You know that is a very old recipe, Blackthorn mead, from the vats of Black Briar meadery, thousands of years of tradition to perfection."

"After what I've had to deal with, and after the things I've done, what my _father,_" he spat the word, "did to me I think I'm entitled to this." He shot back the drink and grinned at the slight burn in his chest, "Smooth, smoky, honey and… berries?" Bartholomew shrugged his shoulders.

"If you are looking for a sap to cry on while you spill your sad life story, try Rosmerta in the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade."

"I'm not looking for sympathy!" Hayden snapped, "It was my choice, my sacrifice, and everything that happened, I brought upon myself… I should have left when I had the chance." He muttered angrily, why the hell did he stay behind and allow himself to be separated from his twin? The bond that was slowly rebuilding, also built on his self-destructive remarks, why the hell did he even send that letter? After that fiasco of a reunion why would his mother, much less his brother, believe anything he says or writes?

As he poured another glass to the brim, Bartholomew looked on, after years of running a borderline illegal establishment, he had become quite good at reading people. His face showed determination, but not the good kind. No, this was more of a conviction to get even with someone. The way he slumped on his stool showed regret, but at the same time the tense, almost, stiff shoulders showed his anger. The boy looked like he just graduated, or is going for his seventh year, at Hogwarts but he acted like some of his more veteran _patrons._

"Who did you want to protect your mind from?" Bartholomew asked just to help the lad out. Don't misunderstand his intent; he wasn't a person to expect sympathy from.

"Dumbledore."

The answer stunned Bartholomew, but it was not unexpected. Quite a few people in Britain, especially those here were not part of his fan club. They knew of Dumbledore's Greater Good crusade and the harm it does to both his followers and enemies. It was nearly impossible to convince anyone of the truth as he is hailed as the greatest champion of the light in over a thousands years. If this young man doesn't trust him then the old coot must've done something serious and personal, and not just to him but maybe his family as well, he had mentioned a brother.

Bartholomew chuckled, "If that's all, I'm sure you can find friends here… after a fashion." At Hayden's puzzled look the bartender subtly nodded his head in the direction of a man at the end of the bar, "He drinks out of that hipflask on the hour every hour, the table nearest the door, those three are under a glamour charm, the man in the corner is actually a woman if the way she is covering her chest with her cloak is anything to go by." He leaned closer, "Everyone here has a reason to hide from either Dumbledore or the Ministry, this is a place to build connections if you want, and it's easier to move around in the shadows nowadays anyway."

Hayden looked around at the patrons in the pub with a bit of hope; these people didn't trust the manipulative headmaster either eh? He hated the idea of trusting someone who would stab him in the back like his father did, but Bartholomew was right, he needed allies. "Who would you recommend?"

_**With Dumbledore…**_

The aged headmaster paced around his office, a habit of his that surfaces when he thinks…or plots. He prided himself on his keen intellect and sharp observations, but there are some questions that he, as loath as he is to admit it, was ill-equipped to answer. Most of them concern three individuals; Hayden, the Boy-Who-Lived; Voldemort, the Dark Lord; and Harvey, the Squib with Power… or is it Harry? Truth is he never really cared about the boy's name, as he was unimportant when he was younger but now he wished he wasn't so hasty in his decision to separate the twins. If he had had the foresight as to the strange power he possesses the squib would have been kept on a very tight leash.

The questions that concerns the boys are few but difficult, first of them is; how is it that Hayden, a wizard, does not possess the same power as his twin? He has heard of a few tragic cases where fraternal twins are born with one being a wizard and the other a squib, but _Verum Gemini_ are always a magical pair, could the power that be have had something to do with this? Could the prophesy's line of 'the power he knows not' refer to the bond and combined power of twins and not to the power of love? As long as he watched Hayden grow, the machinations he did to get the boy set up with Ginerva Weasley, he thought Hayden's desire to protect the girl he loves would make him stronger. All it did was have the boy parade his girlfriend around on his arm like a trophy. He snorted in disgust; Hayden proved himself to be just as arrogant as his father before Lily forced him to deflate his fat head, just like Severus constantly said.

But Harvey… Harry, whatever his name is, was more what he had envisioned the savior of the Wizarding World to be like; brave in the face of his enemies, defending those he cared about, albeit violently and quick to anger. He remembered the stance he took with his sword the way he moved, what he could see anyway, the lost twin was well trained, and he had a sinking suspicion with whom he had trained. That girl, Lydia, her knives, the way she handled herself, the insult; 'jinx-flinger' and the way Harry's hair was braided, there is not doubt that boy was trained in Jorrvaskr. He sat and as he sighed and swore, those unenlightened murderers, so quick to take a life, unwilling to give quarter. He remembered the carnage at the camp near the Polish border the death of three-hundred and twenty-seven lives, why couldn't they understand that the only ones who had to die, if it came to that, were Hitler and Grindelwald, but they wouldn't listen they were convinced that the barbaric method of slaughtering hundreds of people was the only way.

"_They had a choice, now they paid for it, that is war, Dumbledore, there is no high-road here."_ One of them had said.

Dumbledore shook his head, praying that Harv…er Har—ahem, Mr. Evans has not yet embraced that dark philosophy, he is sure that he is not yet completely lost, after all he and James were at his mercy and he didn't kill them he even told his girlfriend not to kill his brother while he was defenseless.

On the subject of Voldemort, the Dark Lord had proven himself unpredictable as of late. He was sure that Tom would start attacking smaller targets and twisting arms as soon as he got his body back three years ago. All he had done so far was send envoys to giant tribes, as well as several werewolf clans and vampire covens. He has only been amassing his strength, like he is waiting for something or someone, maybe he is having doubts about which twin he attacked and is gathering information on both, this is both advantage and disadvantage, he was counting on Tom being the same impulsive killer that he was.

The only advantage that the Order had gained from Tom's new deliberate planning was to have more time to recruit the two elusive Evans, which would be easy as the bill to reenact the old marriage laws was in discussion in the Wizengamot right now. Soon Lily would have no choice but to return and her son will have to come as well as he convinced James to nullify the disownment.

A knock came from the door bringing the old man out of his thoughts, "Come in Severus."

The menacing potions master of Hogwarts walked into the room still wondering how the headmaster always knew who is on the other side of the door, especially when his Occlumency shields were impeccable. "You have called, Headmaster." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, would you care for a lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered the bowl full of yellow candy to the potions master.

"I have left four caldrons unattended in my laboratory, please get to the point."

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore place the bowl down taking one of the sweets for himself, "Severus, I need your help to convince Lily to return when the bill gets passed through the Wizengamot, her son as well, what is his name again?"

"Harry." Snape answered simply. He had met the boy only once when Lily went on the run and needed his help and contacts to get out of Britain, he had found the boy most… interesting.

"Yes, Harry." Dumbledore committed the name to memory, "Severus, you are her oldest friend, since before the two of you started here, I'm sure she will listen to you."

Snape clicked his tongue, "You are getting senile, Headmaster, I haven't been her friend ever since I called her that name all those years ago, and I was a Death Eater, a servant of the man who tried to kill her children, she'll never listen to me." He said with an edge of regret to his voice.

"No, Severus, she knows all you have done for her, I told her of your betrayal of your old master when you warned me of his planes." Dumbledore smiled serenely.

"You did what!" Snape shouted, his control over his emotions slipping, "I told you everything in confidence and told her, the one person I asked you not to tell!"

"She understands, Severus she has forgiven you, and she has kept her silence for your sake."

Snape gaped at the old man, then his eyebrows drew closer together, "You didn't tell her _everything_ did you." He glared at the headmaster, after working for two manipulators he became skilled at hearing the hidden meanings within sentences. "You didn't tell her I was willing for her sons to die as long as she lived, didn't you?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "I believed you said that part out of haste at the time, you were quite panicked."

Snape took a while to gather his thoughts and reaffirm his shields, "I am not her friend, I lost that right many years ago, but if there is one thing I can do for her, it's to make sure that she is free to do as she damn well pleases without that bastard Potter weighing her down." With his cloak billowing behind him he left the room, leaving a stunned headmaster. Severus Snape had always been loyal up to this point and now Dumbledore had lost an important player in his twisted mini-game to bring the Potter family together.

He sighed and took another lemon drop.

* * *

**Betaread by The Orachen.**

**So what do you think? Review please.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter or Skyrim.**

* * *

_Undisclosed Location…_

For the past week Bellatrix Lestrange had been delving into every method of scrying, desperately seeking information on the mysterious son of Lily Evans. Something that had proven to be very frustrating. A small pensieve hovered near the end of the table with silvery memories swirling about, all of them for those with only the strongest stomachs. Near her hand was a dagger with bloodstains from her latest victim, a muggle girl who was pregnant with her first child, only sixteen. Too bad the ritual that allowed the user to send a phantom version herself to any place she wants, or rather it's counterpart in limbo, required the fresh blood of a pure innocent in order to complete. A dark ritual her master had thought especially for her, or else she might have let the child… and her child, go. At least she was kind enough to inform the young mother of the baby's gender before she died of a combination of shock, pain and blood loss; a little girl.

Bellatrix Lestrange sat back in a comfy chair, papers strewn over a table, as an empty look glazed over her withered face as a bloody rune glowed faintly on her brow…

_**In Limbo…**_

**Bellatrix's phantom body flickered into the realm between dimensions the stark world of no life or death, of just simple existence. Void of all color save for black and white, with absolutely nothing in between. She focused on what she wanted to see with all her mental discipline. She gathered in her harsh occlumency training.**

**Time was nonexistent in Limbo, as such it captured all events and stored them away much like a filing cabinet system. For someone with a practiced mind, sifting through those events to their heart's content was a cake walk. Unfortunately, one must stay acutely aware of how long they are in Limbo, otherwise their essence, their very soul will become stuck in the in between. Forever trapped with no chance to escape, the soul would become part of limbo itself, removed from the cycle of life and death, it would cease to exist in the way a soul should and would thus, be erased from the universe. **

'_**Show me Harry Evans, show me Harry Evans, show me Harry Evans…'**_** the mantra repeated in her head over and over and over again until finally, Limbo revealed what she wanted to see: still in black and white, a figure, a boy around the age of thirteen appeared, he looked similar but different to how she remembered what the Boy-Who-Lived looked like, his build was stronger than what Quidditch training could do and he had long hair even for his age with small locks around his temples braided. He was wearing an outfit that appeared to be a cross between modern casual muggle attire and animal hides. He was wearing moccasins while sporting jeans and a white sleeveless tee shirt with deer hide bracers and shin guards. **

**He held a wooden sword in his hands and was going through the paces with practiced controlled strikes, his footwork was impeccable the speed and precision of his sword was truly advanced for his age. Bellatrix grudgingly acknowledged that the boy was well-trained and is worth a measure of respect if he had continued his training at this rate and an improved in close quarters combat. **

**Harry stopped in the middle of practice and picked up something she could not see and apparently drank something, maybe water, but not long enough to quench his thirst. It was a huge drawback in this method of scrying, she could only see the object of her search and what he or she was wearing at the time but nothing and no one else. He put the invisible bottle down and swept his brow his the back of his hand. Bellatrix gasped as she saw the last thing she expected to see; a lightning-bolt shaped scar above the right eyebrow exactly were Hayden Potter's scar is. Harry turned is if he heard something, for a moment Bellatrix thought she had been discovered but remembered that this was a like a pensieve memory, a recording**

"**But mom, it's raining outside and I've gotta practice or Eric's going to kick my ass." The boy took a few steps back as is something was coming after him a look of fear on his face his hands subconsciously covering his rear, "No, ma'am… Yes ma'am." He then looked up with a scared, timid look making his eyes as wide as possible. "I'm sorry Mommy." Then some invisible hand ruffled his hair and he was pulled into a hug with the invisible Limbo form of Lily Evans his mother.**

_**In the real world…**_

Bellatrix woke up as she pulled herself out of Limbo, gasping a huge lungful of air, she rubbed her eyes as she lazily picked up her wand placed it to her temple, removed the memory and inserted it into the pensive. It was an important discovery even though it only showed a little bit of information; two boys with scars, one, a wizard, the other, a warrior. She was starting to wonder if that old fossil Dumbledore chose the wrong one, instantly a part of her said that Hayden was the one because he is a wizard while his brother is a squib, but the red scar on the back of her hand said otherwise. _'Magic doesn't just stay in one form.'_ Her master's words rang in her skull, making her tremble, the possibility of there being magic that the pureblood wizards know nothing about fascinated and infuriated her, all magic belongs to them the elite of the elite, the chosen. But she is a loyal Death Eater and her master's right hand, if he says there is more than one form of magic then it must be so.

This was the third excursion into Limbo for information on the lost twin and she had a gut feeling that she had only barely scratched the surface. So much was still left to be discovered about the squib brat. She bit her lip in frustration, drawing blood, she was going to have to get more blood for the ritual. Her first excursion into Limbo the boy was apparently learning to read and write in Futhark when he was only _six,_ an impressive feat to be sure but it hardly said anything about him aside from the fact that he was an avid study. The second trip showed Harry going through invisible books while writing things down in what could be a journal at fourteen, again not much to go on, but her latest trip showed that he also trains his body. All she knows about him is that he is a disciplined boy who is both a scholar and a fighter.

She needed more to go on. Grabbing the knife and rose out of her seat throwing a cloak around herself as she walked out the door. She needs to replenish her ingredients, if she remembers correctly there is a place where they teach the Lamaze method in the nearby town.

* * *

_**Jorrvaskr…**_

Harry woke up feeling exhausted like he ran the longest marathon in world history, a headache pounded in his skull like a frost troll on a rampage, and he slowly got up trying to keep his poor, throbbing brain from sliding out of his skull. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and cradled his head in his hands, he hadn't felt this bad since he turned sixteen and he and his shield-brothers cracked open a keg of Black-briar's finest. The hangover the next morning was the worst pain in the world, and his mother gave him an earful, raising her voice to a high enough pitch without shouting to make him whimper into a corner muttering _'Stop, for the love of Talos, stop.' _Oh, how he wished he felt that good.

"Well, well, he's not dead yet." An old voice from the corner of his room said, Harry looked up to see Gertrude the old healer of Jorrvaskr. A more kindhearted woman you will never meet, nor a more able healer. She was the mistress of the local apothecary and midwife to more than half of the villagers. Her gray-white hair was tied up in a bun revealing a withered but kind face with plenty of laugh lines around her startling blue eyes and mouth. She had dressed modestly: a wool hand spun dress, died yellow, and a shawl around her shoulders.

She got up and approached Harry "How are you feeling child?"

Harry bit back his retort that he isn't a child but she was so much like a grandmother to everyone his age. "Head hurts." Was all he could say.

Gertrude smiled as she raised her hands, a warm reddish-gold light sprang out of her palms like soft miniature suns. She reached over and placed her hands on his throbbing head and the pain lessoned swiftly until it vanished completely. The Path of Restoration's Healing Hands spell worked much better than aspirin or Tylenol. Harry let out a moan of bliss and pleasure as his head cooled down as if a steady stream of water is swirling around in his brain. "Oh, Gertrude you are an angel."

The healer chuckled good-naturedly, "If I didn't know any better I'd say you have a thing for little ole me." She winked. Harry blushed, even though he realized she was just pulling his leg. "Even though you may be a man you are still such a child."

"How's Eric?" Harry asked concerned about the welfare of his shield-brother.

"Oh, he's fine just a few scratches is all, and a headache after the two of you returned." At Harry's confused look Gertrude explained, "Your mother and Lydia let him have it when you returned unconscious. They browbeat him into telling them every last detail at least ten times, especially Lydia. She really seems to care about you, hardly left your side . I had to have her father carry her home around three in the morning after she fell asleep holding your hand." Harry had nothing to say to that revelation, save that he looked at his hand in wonder, as if he could almost feel her hand on his. It was so confusing: Lydia wasn't the type to open up and show that kind of affection, especially in a room where someone could walk in on her. "Just man-up and kiss her."

Harry spluttered, "W-w-what?"

Gertrude smiled, "Harry, I may be old enough to be labeled a 'dinosaur' by the young children of today, but I do know love when I see it. Be a man and kiss her, tell her how you feel. Talos knows it will make Bjorn and your mother happy to have grandbabies to spoil."

If there was a red that was beyond the color spectrum of red, it was on Harry's face, "S-shut up! It's none of your damn business what I do with my personal life!"

"Harry," Gertrude fixed him with a hard look, "We in Jorrvaskr don't live assured lives we are a warrior society, and we could die in the battlefield. Marrying young is not that uncommon here."

"I can't think about that now," Harry said still looking at his hand, "I have to become a Companion first and get my mom immunity from Dumbledore."

Gertrude left the room saying something about 'nobility' and 'ice-brains,' as soon as she walked out the door Eric came in lugging a gear bag behind him. "About time you got your sorry ass up you damn milk-drinker." he snarled, "Do have any idea what I went through because you lost consciousness?" he threw the bag at Harry's feet where it made a ringing and a clanging announcing that there is armor inside. "First, I had to drag your heavy ass out of the cave and take a warp-stone back home, which was the easy part. After that your mother, who, by the way, I can still hear in my head, confronted me. She tied me to a chair with magic ropes that turned into snakes and threatened me with spells that I don't think should be legal especially one that she promised to give a severe case of hemorrhoids if I don't talk, and another that would make me impotent."

Harry cringed at the mention of those two curses, during their travels when he was seven they ran into a blonde dunce called Lockheart who wanted to ask Lily all about one of her adventures in the Swiss Alps, when he got pushy and a little flirty, his mum started to see right through him and hexed the bastard with the after-mentioned curses, only later he found out what those curses did.

"And my crazy-ass sister broke my nose… again, when she saw you lying on a hospital bunk. Not to mention what she threatened to do to me if Gert found anything more serious then those scars on your face." At the mention of the scars, Harry remembered that one of the Vampires had gotten in close. He reached up and felt his face. The small ridges that indicated scar-tissue were there; he felt the highest one reach from his right temple to his earlobe; the next one carved a bald patch in his eyebrow skipped over his eye and continued down his cheek stopping short of his jaw; the third and last ran over his mouth drawing a line over both his upper and lower lip at the right side and continued down his chin. The scars weren't thin; luckily, the secretions in a vampire's nails cannot turn humans into vampires, however, they are slow to heal and always leave prominent scaring that will never fade.

"But truthfully Harry, I'm just glad you are okay."

Harry chuckled, "I'm still better looking."

Eric grinned, "Yeah, anyway, check out the armor, you might find something interesting."

Curious, Harry opened the bag and pulled out several pieces of his black battle armor, he found nothing of note until he held the breastplate and found inscribed around the neckline vampire fangs set in the black steel. Eric explained, "Companions decorate their armor with trophies of their kills it's a tradition that we started in the Iron Age, pelts for werewolves, scales for dragons and so on." Harry looked up eyes full of hope.

"Does this mean…?"

"You passed the trails, Gert has left to inform the Inner Circle so I suggest you suit up and get ready for your inauguration… Brother." Eric smiled as he patted Harry's shoulder before leaving the room.

Harry stayed there for a while tracing the inlayed fangs on his armor in wonder. The only question was whether he should get more trophies inlayed as well; he had killed his fair share of draugr, frostbite spiders and even a lich. Then he thought more logically on the subject, the only trophies he had kept from the draugrs were their weapons. Frostbite spiders, like the rest of their arachnid kin have exoskeletons and no bones. Their bodies deteriorate upon death thanks to their corrosive venom. As for the lich, well there might be something he could do. Lich parts are among the rarest of potion ingredients due to their habit of being near immortal and far harder to kill than dragons.

Shrugging off his thoughts he got up and donned his armor. He was still a little tired from his overuse of the _thu'um._ For some reason he knew which shout to use and what they meant but he needed to learn to break them down and control them. Build up a tolerance to the draining effect they have on him, right now the _thu'um_ was a liability on the battlefield; it would more likely get him killed rather than save him. It was time for some training. Once Harry had donned his black battle armor, leaving the helmet off, he looked in the mirror and didn't see much difference, save that the vampire fangs made him look more badass but not by much.

He brought out Dawnbreaker from the bag and checked the weapon over. It was still in prime condition, not a speck of blood besmirched the blade's dazzling beauty. Either somebody cleaned it or it was impervious to being stained, who knew with this caliber of weapon?

After a few hours, during which the sun had set, Harry spent his time pacing his room like a cat in a cage and fiddling with a 3D puzzle that was provided for the patients. Eric returned, dressed in his trophy adorned combat armor as well with his war-axe strapped to his hip and a great-axe over his shoulder, sheathed in a bandoleer holster. Harry knew that Eric wasn't proficient with the bigger weapon but his father had a one-track mind: teaching his son how to wield the great-axe, as it is one the most effective weapons in their arsenal. Eric's face looked grim and serious. Cobalt-blue war paint covered half of his face and he spoke in a voice that was completely different from what he used when he spoke to Harry only a few hours ago. "Follow me."

Eric led Harry out of the healer's house where he saw Gertrude at the door, who bowed her head as he passed. Out in the streets of Jorrvaskr, the main cobbled paths were dark and deserted as the duo walked down into the town square in front of the town hall of Jorrvaskr itself. Apparently, the town hall was modeled after the ancient home of the first of their order: in the fashion of a mead hall that looked like it was forged from a great Viking ship put upside down on four sturdy oak walls. As Harry and Eric got closer to the mead hall, they started to see a glow from torch-light.

When they finally arrived, a semicircle of Companions stood before the gates of the mead hall where only Companions are allowed to enter. The group had none of their helmets on and Harry saw from the looks of their respective armor that they had all slain and fought some of the most dangerous creatures in the entire world. Dragon scales, Chimera furs, Hydra horns and many other trophies adorned their black metal plates. These were the Inner Circle, the most experienced and powerful of the region, five men and three women, each between the ages of twenty to fifty. At the center stood Bjorn, the Harbinger. His armor was so adorned, Harry was sure that there wasn't anything this man hadn't fought and killed. Frost troll fur lined the neck of his breast plate. His helm was fixed with the fangs of werewolves and Fenrir wolf fangs around the eye-holes with two ribbed horns coming out of the side and down to the jaw line; fangs, claws and scales adorned his armor in intricate patterns and to Harry, he looked incredibly powerful. A real chieftain; it was no wonder the Orsimer held respect for the Companions. Over Bjorn's shoulder, he had strapped his own great war-axe with a leather grip and tribal beads around the handle. Next to him, stood his wife. Not as adorned, but with lighter armor, wielding knives and a bow much like her daughter. The strong woman now looked deadly with her war-paint of a blue hand covering her eyes and her hair adorned with beads and arrowheads.

Eric led Harry to the center of the semi-circle and told Harry to stand before them while he went to stand at his father's side opposite of his mother. Bjorn spoke, "Brothers and Sisters of the Circle, today we welcome a new soul into our fold. This man has endured, has challenged and has shown his valor. Who will speak for him?"

Eric said from his place, "I stand witness to the courage of the soul before us."

Turning to his son Bjorn asked, "Would you raise a shield in his defense?"

Without hesitating Eric said. "I would stand at his back so that the world might never overtake us."

Continuing Bjorn asked, "And would you raise a sword in his honor?"

"It stands ready to meet the blood of his foes." Eric said with conviction.

"And would you raise a mug in his name?" Bjorn asked the fourth question.

"I would lead the song of triumph as our mead hall reveled in his stories." Eric answered for the final time.

"Then, the judgment of the Circle is complete. His heart beats with fury and courage that has united the Companions since the days of the distant green summers. Let it beat in synch with ours so that the mountain might echo and our enemies may tremble at the sound."

To this the whole circle said in unison, "It shall be so!"

"Now that the formalities are out of the way, LET'S CELEBRATE!" Bjorn roared, pumping his fist into the air. The rest of the Circle, who were so formal and intimidating just a second ago, started to howl in agreement. Some of the younger ones jumped into the air in anticipation of the welcoming party. Eric and another member of the Inner Circle grabbed Harry and dragged him to the mead hall.

"W-what's going on?" Harry asked as he was literally dragged up the stairs by his best friend and a woman who Harry distinctly remembered was Freya.

"Celebrating, Brother, celebrating! You are one of us now, so you are going to feast with us." Eric shouted in his ear as he kicked open the great oak doors of the giant mead hall. Inside, an incredible fire was blazing. It crackled in the middle of the room with a glazed pig roasting on a spit. An oak table, heavily laden with fruits and meats and steaming breads, sat close to the fire. Barrels of beer and various assortments of mead with a few wines were lined up, with dozens of mugs. Stuffed trophies of bears, wolves, elks and other animals lined the walls. "Welcome to Sovngarde on earth."

In the room, dozens of Companions cheered as Harry entered the mead hall. The noise was deafening. Eric let go of his friend and he was immediately set upon by his new brothers and sisters offering words of congratulations and hearty slaps on the back that made the newly minted Companion stumble. "Someone bring this man a drink," An older Companion Harry saw a few times during past stays but was never introduced, wrapped his arm around the him and steered him towards the kegs, "our brother is thirsty!"

The whole of the horde of warriors shouted in agreement until a booming voice said, "WAIT!" all turned to the source of the voice and saw Bjorn with his helmet off and a stern look on his face, "Our little brother has yet to choose a name, 'Harry' is hardly a name for a Companion, what will it be lad, what we you have us call you?"

Harry never really though about the name part, he was so busy thinking about the trail it slipped his mind. He racked his brains thinking about good name for himself that would fit his station as a Companion, a shield-brother, a team player. Wolf, Ulfr, he grinned to himself it sounded close to 'Ulfric' a name he respects, plus a vague memory of his father back before they found out he is a squib turned into a stag made him warm up to the name even more. "Asulfr." He declared.

Bjorn nodded to the name, "A good name, strong name, 'Asulfr,' 'As' from 'Asgard,' meaning 'divine,' 'ulfr,' for 'wolf,' 'Divine Wolf.' Very well, get Asulfr a drink!" he ordered. The Companions shouted out his new name as they took him to the kegs. Ha-er Asulfr, took a mug and poured himself a generous amount of Black-briar mead and drank first knowing it was a custom that the honored party drinks first and far be it from him to keep his brothers and sisters back from a mug of ale and or spirits.

* * *

_**With Hayden…**_

The young wizard sat in his room with a grin on his face and a small feeling of intoxication; Harry must be having a good time if he could feel it through the incomplete bond. He fingered the torc around his neck the little silver ornament attracted some attention but thankfully Dumbledore and his father could not recognize an enchanted artifact when it is staring them in the face. They just shrugged it off and continued to believe that Hayden was still under their sway, '_Fat chance of that.'_ He thought.

He continued to have Tokky apply the glamour while he acted like the pompous prick he used to be. At Order meetings, he had to keep himself from hurling as Ginny Weasley still continued to hang off his arm like a fish on a hook.

He wasn't sure if the glamour was effectively hiding him from everything. He had caught Mad-Eye looking at him with suspicion and Snape, while being his usual menacing self, leered at Hayden in a way that suggested that he knew what the seventeen-year-old was up to.

When he first broke through the effects of the potion, he thought he remembered the whole story but strangely enough after he started wearing the torc it was like somebody had been taking his time to unravel something in his mind. It started out as whispers, but soon evolved into memories; memories that Dumbledore had removed, a whole month lost. It was after the Dursely incident but before the potion…

_**Flashback…**__"My boy, my brave little boy…" Lily said as she hugged Hayden close to her, a bluish shimmer glittered around the memory for a while as the event seemed to pause as he thought about it then the blue light vanished and everything continued, "I'm not leaving you behind Hayden." Hayden squirmed out of her arms._

"_Mum-" Hayden started, but his mother cut across him. _

"_No, you listen to me young man." Lily's voice when from crying to stern, "I did not go through nine months of carrying you and your brother in my belly and almost lose you two only to leave one of you behind with that arrogant tow-rag of a soon to be ex-husband of mine."_

_Hayden was confused, he and his brother where in his mum's tummy? How did they fit in there? He looked at his mother's belly trying to figure out how it was possible and Lily seeing the wheels turning in her son's head laughed lightly, "You and Harry were much smaller then." She explained._

"'_ow did we ge' in there?" Hayden asked, his childlike curiosity temporarily overcoming his concern for Harry._

_Lily blushed and fiddling with the collar of Haden's shirt said, "That is a story for another day, right now we have got to back up and leave, okay sweetie?"_

"_Mum, ah can' Dumbdoor will chase us, an' 'arry will ge' urt again." He protested tears forming in his eyes at the very thought of his brother being injured enough as it was. _

"_And what if you are not there? Harry will miss you terribly, he loves you he will think you abandoned him just like your father." Lily grimaced it was a dirty tactic to use on a five-year old but she was desperate and running out of time._

"'_AH AM NOT LIKE 'IM! 'AH 'ATE 'IM!" __Hayden shouted, angry that his mum would compare him to James Potter, the man who hurt his most precious person aside from his mum._

"_And what will Harry think when he finds out you chose to stay behind with the man who hurt him rather than his own brother. You wouldn't like that if Harry did that to you now would you?" His mother said quietly but sternly, her experience taught her that the only way to get through to her sons when they were like this was to use each other as an example of what they would and would not like. Hayden nodded at his mum's logic he would hate his brother if he thought Harry would chose someone over him. Lily breathed a sigh of relief and stood up. She gave her wand a final wave and the last of the clothes and accessories placed themselves neatly in the trunk. She tapped the trunk with her wand and it shrank and she fit it into her pocket then she walked over to Harry, and careful of where she put her hands, scooped him up silently blessing the pain-relief potions in his system as well as the dreamless sleep potion. Securing Harry on her hip and shoulder with Hayden trailing close by her legs, she sneaked down to the ground floor and out the front door quiet like mice as not alert James to their departure, let him see how he likes it when his child vanishes._

_Taking a firm hold on Harry she looked down at Hayden, "Hayden, hold on tightly to mummy now, okay?" Hayden nodded and wrapped his arms around his mum's leg and gripped it securely as she turned a vanished with a loud crack as James and Albus 'Dumbdoor' went into the twins' old room only to find no-one and nothing left behind._

_**Flashback end…**_

Hayden clutched his head as that portion of the memory charm unraveled, tears streaming from his eyes, grieving for what he lost, all his life he believed that his mum abandoned for him for his brother as was the brainwashing suggestions of the headmaster, coupled with the mind altering effects of that damned potion. It didn't make any sense; the Heir potion would make him loyal to his father as it was keyed to him and the Potter blood in his veins. Hayden looked at the situation from a manipulator's perspective; the chances of a subject to an Heir potion rebelling are extraordinarily slim at best, but he figured that anything that would inspire loyalty to someone other than his father would negate it a degree. To that end a contingency plan was in order, to inspire jealousy in his brother and hate, he would have to remove any memory that would inspire any further compassion to his brother, however he could only erase them from a certain point or else there would be huge gaps as nearly everything in Hayden's life was done side-by-side with Harry.

Hayden wiped the tears away furiously, a fierce glare in his emerald orbs, his father or 'Dumbdoor' had stolen more than just his brother, they had stolen his memories as well. The proverbial "bone" he's got to pick with them just got bigger. He grinned savagely, a little-known fact about the memory charm is that it could only work on a certain memory one time, after that the mind builds a resistance to protect the retrieved memory. Dumbledore wouldn't be able to make Hayden forget again.

All of a sudden he belched, not a little burp but a comically loud throat-tearing sound. He shook his head as he realized he felt a little off balance…

* * *

_**With Harry… **_

Harry took another drink from his mug as he listened to a Shield-Sister regale him with an amusing story.

"… and I said the reason I don't have picture is because I don't have cable you know-it-all son of a bitch." The small group roared with laughter and Harry nearly doubled over but was helped up by Lydia who had congratulated him on his success a few minutes ago.

"Whoa there fella," she said a little inebriated herself she drank almost as much as Harry did, even though she knew that 'Asulfr' is his new name she was still going to call him 'Harry.' "I's think yous-er drunk." She said with a slur.

"I not so think as'r drunk I am." Harry said with an equal slur, "I mean…" he caught his little mispronunciation and he a Lydia laughed, Harry loved seeing and hearing her laugh, she looked so beautiful when she laughed. "Let's ge-some air." He jerked his head over to the doors and Lydia nodded. Together they staggered through the milling crowds and the howls of laughter and out of the back doors on onto the courtyard in the back. The starry night was cold and Harry and Lydia went to one of the bond fires for warmth. As they stood there warming their hands harry sneaked a glance at Lydia, she was wearing armor similar to his own not the armor from their meeting with the Orsimer, it was more decorated with fangs and furs, several locks of her hair was adorned with tribal beads and in the fire-light Harry could only describe her as breath-taking. "You're beautiful." He whispered, Lydia heard him and blushed as she looked at Harry and their eyes met green to honey-brown, the leaned in closer and closer, their drunken state removing inhibitions and thanks to that very state of intoxication Harry fell over bringing Lydia with him…

* * *

_**With Hayden…**_

Hayden tried to shake off the feeling of being drunk while he started to feel hot all over and aroused. His heart started to pound in his chest and suddenly he slid off his chair and under his desk…

* * *

_**With Laura and Eric…**_

Laura had seen the pair walk out of the door not ten minutes ago she grinned to herself, eve though it is most likely brought on by strong drink she was glad that Lydia is having quality time with a good boy like Har-Asulfr. She knew he wouldn't do anything inappropriate and she did see things from Lily's perspective: she wanted her daughter to find a man and start a family. The life of the Companions is hard and dangerous, hardly anyone lives past the age of forty anymore. She had attended the funerals of warriors in their late teens who left the world without a legacy, with unfulfilled lives. The way of their culture was harsh and violent, despite many of the moderations in order to adapt with the world of today. When she was a girl all she could dream about is having children of her own and when she became a mother her dream changed to having grandchildren. She nudged her son, Eric, who was watching out for his father just incase he realized Lydia left with Harry and jumped to conclusions. He nodded and they discreetly made their way to the doors and slid out.

"Whew, man it gets loud in there." Eric commented despite how he acts sometimes Eric likes his quiet moments and parties like that are really draining on him.

His mother 'hmmed' in response as she looked around the courtyard for the evasive couple and spotted a heap near the fire of one of the blazers she and Eric made there way over to them and Laura had to repress a small squeal at the sight; Asulfr was dead asleep laying on his side with an equally sleeping Lydia under his arm spooning up against him, she seemed quite content with her position as did Asulfr, if the smiles were anything to go by. Not being able to resist Laura took out a camera from a pouch on her belt and took a few snapshots at different angles, some showing the whole scene, some showing the faces and one at Asulfr's hand which was on a part of Lydia's body that she would not want to be fondled. Thankfully both were in full armor so it wasn't skin-to-skin contact. Lydia unconsciously scooted in deeper into Asulfr and in response he coiled his arm around her tighter their smiles for a while turning into blissful looks.

"Aww, this is just too precious, oh sweet revenge for the other day on leaving me to settle the bill." Eric whispered as he grinned savagely.

"You know, Helen is not a bad girl you should take a queue from these two love-birds," Laura winked at her son, "and don't even think about using this as blackmail, I'm getting tired of having to reset your nose." She whispered in equal volume.

Eric sniffed in response, the sound caused the two passed out teens to moan, mother and son tensed up a bit, not wanting to wake them. "Well, we should get them to bed before father sees them." At the sly look his mother gave him he hissed "Separate beds, I don't want by best-friend to get killed by dad… or Lydia, when she wakes up in the same bed with Harry."

"I know, I know, I'll take Lydia home, you deal with Asulfr." She patted her son on the shoulder, and bent down to pick up her daughter…

* * *

_**With Bellatrix…**_

The dark witch grinned sinisterly as she held up the vile of blood in her hand. Now she would be able to continue her work, and it was all thanks to that muggle woman laying on the table with her swollen belly slit open the unborn child within barely visible, a boy this time. The victim this time was near her late twenties and put up a decent fight for a muggle but Bellatrix won in the end as the mother was magically held down by her arms and legs and screamed out actually pleaded for her child's sake. The witch snorted, it was understandable for a mother to protect their young it is a simple natural instinct but the woman did give her a headache with all her cries.

She sighed as she sat down and dipped her finger into the vial; she hated doing this, not the killing the weak, no not at all, but rather going into Limbo. The journey wasn't particularly pleasant compounded by her mounting frustration at the lack of results.

The witch traced the bloody finger on her brow drawing a rune in a strange spiky script that she never heard of from any tombs on ancient runes even the dark ones. Then she released her Occlumency shields and started a chant in an archaic dialect that her master had taught her. She started to sway left and right, like a tree in a breeze; her voice getting hoarse with power until she slumped in her seat as her spirit and soul traversed the planes of existence.

_**Limbo…**_

**Bellatrix opened her eyes to the barren black and white sub-realm, her body flickering as she struggled to adjust to the foreign world. Her mind chanting, **_**'Harry Evans…'**_** over and over just like the last time, fervently hoping that this time she might get the results that her master craves. After a minute of frustrating concentration the world warped itself to show a scene that looked promising; her target looked much older than the other times she sought out his echo in Limbo, about sixteen or seventeen, just looking at him made her a little red with lust, he was strong and well built, she couldn't find a body like that on a pureblood. She had tried, but every wizard, save for those who play Quidditch, were skin and bones, and fat, lots and lots of fat.**

**His hair was longer and six locks, three on each side, were braided and beaded. He made a motion like he wrenched something out of a person's hand and oddly enough she could barely make out the silhouette of the other person. "This sword is enchanted, if you had unsheathed it who knows what would have happened, might have possessed you for all I know." He said in an angry tone.**

**He then turned to look at someone then with a stunned look turned back to the figure he addressed earlier and mouthed a word with a look of… longing? Then his face hardened in a look of pure unadulterated anger as he turned to face another person, he made a motion like he unsheathed a sword and strangely enough bright light in the form of a sword appeared in Harry's hand, after a short while of staring at whoever it was who had earned his anger Harry suddenly turned around in a blur and slammed the flat of the light-sword into silhouette's temple, he watched without any remorse as the figure fell in a crumpled heap on the floor. "No-one tells my mother what to do." he spat. **

**Bellatrix shivered, this boy's voice held power in it, it reminded her of her master but not as malevolent. She watched as Harry's eyes narrowed at whoever had spoken to him maybe the same man, **_**'Did his eyes just glow gold?' **_**she wondered.**

"**No need for violence? Tell that to Vernon Dursely the bastard who be**_**et me near to DEATH!**_**" the power of his voice was like a thunderclap she had only felt this once before when her master's anger was at its worst at the betrayal of her favorite cousin Regulus Black, he breathed in the rumbling growing louder and louder until he opened his mouth… and the scene vanished like a mirage.**

"_**Leave mortal, leave this realm**_**.**_**"**_** A voice addressed Bellatrix who jumped, it was ethereal and seemed to echo before it spoke, and it rang like many women were speaking at once.**

**The dark witch spun around searing for the source of the voice only to find no-one here with her in the empty sub-world, "Who are you?" she demanded, "Where are you?" **

"_**I am everywhere and I am nowhere, I am the Dawn and the Dusk, the Anticipation, the Eyes on the Horizon, the Queen of the Night Sky, I am Transition and Change. I am Azura."**_** A figure appeared in the bi-color world in full range spectrum, her skin was richly tanned like caramel, her long flowing hair; stark-white, the dress she wore black as night, held onto her by her shoulders and barely covered her breasts, in her hands she cradled a gem in the shape of a tribal sun made out of what looked like bronze and a huge emerald. And for the first time in her life Bellatrix Lestrange felt true fear.**

* * *

_**(A.N.) Okay first off before you all get jumping to conclusions, Harry/Asulfr and Lydia are still not in a romantic relationship, what occurred was brought on by copious amounts of mead and a touch of hormones, nothing happened and they didn't kiss, they fell, the romance will start sometime during the Hogwarts arc chapters away.**_

_**(B.N.) Sorry for being a lazy ass guys. Life was catching up to me. **_

_**Hope you enjoyed, and please leave a review or favorite the story. It motivates both of us. **_


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