"Hurry!"
"It is ready now Master."
"Now…"
Let it drown. Please….let it drown…
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given…."
"Flesh—of the servant—w-willingly given…"
"B-blood of the enemy…forcibly taken…"
Let it have drowned, let it have gone wrong…please…please let it be dead…
"…but no matter. I can touch him now."
Burning, throbbing pain, his head threatening to explode in his agony… The center of his torture that dammed scar, the events becoming flashes of light as Voldemort spoke to his Death Eaters.
"Crucio!"
Pain beyond anything else he had ever felt, fire seemingly melting his very bones, his head splitting along his scar, his eyes rolling in his head, the flashing light continuing worse than before. He wished it could end…to black out…to die.
They were dueling.
All at once it seemed Voldemort had thrown out the killing curse and the disarming spell. It was all at once that their spells connected, that a dome kept the Death Eaters from coming to their Lord's rescue.
Don't break the connection.
Music…
His wand was vibrating more powerfully than ever, it was becoming harder not to break the connection as he could see Voldemort trying to break the connection of their spells with no avail. The wood beneath this fingers grew so hot…it could have burst in to flame at that very moment.
"Hold on, Harry," Cedric.
"He was a real wizard then?" An old man. "Killed me that one did…You fight him, boy…"
"Don't let go, now!" Bertha Jorkins shouted, surveying the battle with wide eyes. "Don't let him get you, Harry—don't let go!"
"Your father's coming…" His mother, Lily Potter. "Hold on for your father…it will be all right…hold on…"
"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments…but we will give you time…you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts…do you understand, Harry?" His father, James Potter…it was his father.
"Do it now," his father's voice whispered, "be ready to run…do it now…"
"NOW!"
"Stun him!" He could hear Voldemort scream.
"Imperdimenta!" A muffled yell, he might have stopped one of them…there was no time to stop and look, he fell, stretching out his hand to grab Cedric's arm—
"Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!"
"Accio!"
He heard Voldemort's scream of fury at the same moment that he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the Portkey had worked—it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind and color and Cedric along with him…They were going back…
Or at least one of them.
He was alive.
He had no idea how…he was quite certain when he heard those two words that it was the end of him. Yet there he was the grass against his body and he could hear the crowds as they cheered…
Where was Harry?
Where was Harry Potter?
Cedric was helped to his feet, by who he could not remember. He remembered flashes. It was then he remembered the most important event that had happened in that grave yard.
Voldemort was back. Voldemort was back and stronger than ever.
He tried to tell them that. He really did. The crowds cheering too loudly…his father clapping him on the back…It was the teachers that ran back out of the maze, their proclamation that halted the celebrations.
Harry Potter was not in the Maze. Mr. Potter could not be found.
It hurt.
It was black. Those were his surroundings—complete darkness. He certainly had not escaped pain however. It weighed down upon him, burning his insides and splitting his skull as the young male's head lolled against the pillow of the cot. Around him strangers were still surprised, questioning the strange flash that had accompanied the boy's appearance. At least, that was what Eragon had told them.
The boy and two stones…
Who was he? Where had he come from? The Spine surely was only for the experienced…and even then it could throw anything at those that dared walk its territories. For the first time in two days the boy spoke under his breath, a shaking whisper and the strangers leaned forward to catch what the boy might have said. It might clue them in on where the poor thing was from…what had happened…
"Cedric…don't kill Cedric…"
Cedric? A name…someone the boy knew? 'Don't kill Cedric.' This froze each stranger as they looked to each other, shocked. Instantly pity seemed to grow in their hearts for the boy. It must have been someone he knew…someone he cared for, for the pain was evident in his voice. They could only wonder what was going on in the young male's mind.
He woke on the third day. His eyes opened slightly, closing just as quickly as light bombarded those emerald orbs, before chancing the risk to open them once more. All at once panic grew in his mind, his head flashing from one side to the other, his mouth opening to let out a cry of, "He's back!" yet it died in his throat. He didn't recognize this place. This room…the cot he laid on as he scrambled to a sitting position, his first mistake as he laid down quickly with a groan.
As if summoned by the sound, a woman had bustled in, laying him back down as she shook her head, mumbling under her breath. "Steady now…you've been unconscious for at least two days, maybe more before Eragon found you…"
"Gertrude, is the young man awake?" It was a man's voice that spoke, from what Harry could hear it seemed to come from another room as his head moved to find the source, looking back to the woman, Gertrude as she looked to the doorway.
"He is among the living."
The man that appeared in the room was tall, tall with a stick-like frame with a lean, narrow face with his head covered by graying hair and his intense eyes with full attention on Harry who lay on the bed once more, propped on the pillows. The man was a proud one; from his stance Harry Potter could deduce at least that. Yet, he did not show the signs of wealth for by his clothes he was humble, or poor. Even so, he did not let that show. He did not seem the type that would take too kindly to help from others, he reminded him of the Weasley family straight away.
"And so you're awake."
"I guess," he was wary of the man. Where was he? He didn't have the answer to that question. Who was Eragon? Where had they found him? Who was this man before him?
Where was Cedric?
The question was hard on him as he was pulled into a shocked state once more, finding himself caught, staring at the blankets that covered his frame as the events of the graveyard rushed against him for the second time since he woke. Cedric was dead. Where was Cedric? He was supposed to get his body back to his parents…Dumbledore needed to know Voldemort was alive again. The wizarding world was in danger.
The older man had not spoken during this time, nor had the woman Gertrude. They seemed to notice the look that glazed over the boy, they opted to let him sink into his thoughts, to take his time before he looked at them once more.
"Where am I?"
"You are in the village of Carvahall, my boy, my nephew found you within the Spine. Would you pray tell us who you are?"
"Cavahall?" He echoed, testing the name on his tongue, he could not remember ever seeing such a place on a map…and village? Were there even such places left in the world called villages? "Harry…Harry Potter, who are you?" No reaction came from his name, none at all.
"Harry Pottersson," the man seemed to be testing the name as well as Harry nodded in confirmation, "I am Garrow Cadocsson. Now…can you remember anything that happened before you appeared in the Spine, anything at all?"
"The Spine?"
"The forest boy, the forest."
"I don't know."
He was in a new world.
It had been a month now but that much Harry Potter knew. He had found out he was in the village of Carvahall, in a land called Alagaësia. Upon asking how he could get back to London he had received many odd looks. Which left the young wizard confused, very confused; in this land…so far away from London he was without a home to stay at. As a solution Garrow had offered him home with him, his son and his nephew, Eragon, the one that had found him in the Spine. On the condition that Harry helped pull his own weight around the farm he was welcome to live and eat alongside them.
In the first few weeks Harry had searched for his wand with no luck. It was gone, yet strangely, the stone, pure white in stark contrast to the polished blue stone that sat beside it before he and Eragon as they sat around them, seemed to give off the same feeling his wand once had for him. It was warm…it was magic. It wasn't just any ordinary stone…that much he told Eragon, for it seemed for he and the boy that was closest to his own age grew to be close friends in the months to come.
Even more so when the stones turned out to be eggs, when they hatched for the wizard and farm boy. That was when the new life Harry had found had turned upside down. That was when both boys were thrown into chaos, escaping the village with Brom, the story teller and their dragons…
Saphira and Enya.
The years to follow would throw the two boys into war and turn them into men. Their experiences would teach them morals and lessons they would carry with them for the rest of their lives. Their bond became that of brothers, their dragons like sisters. They met many people along their struggles, among their first battle they found themselves with their first injuries that would make their lives harder…
Until they met the elves…
Fate had nothing against throwing everything and anything it could against the two dragon riders. Each challenge harder than the last, each finding themselves confused along the path, ready to stray when sorrow enveloped them, they would never be the same by the end of this war…
By the time they ended Galbatorix and his rein.
In this war one Harry Potter almost forgot his other life…the world he was born in…the world in which another war was being fought just as the one was in this world…
That was until he was thrown back once again…and the White Rider was not alone.
A/N: So….my first HP/Inheritance Cycle cross-over! Well let's see…Cedric is somehow alive, Harry is in Alagaësia, became a dragon rider and his dragon his Enya (that's Celtic go look it up) and he helps Eragon in the war….hmmm I wonder what other changes came from this…
Yes I skipped around a bit, the first bit of this chapter was little snap shots from chapters twenty-six and twenty-seven of GoF, some of them not word for word as I played around a bit to make it interesting.
More in depth memories of Harry's time in Carvahall and other places may or may not turn up later. We'll see. I'm still working out the kinks to this idea but the plot bunnies just starting running loose from their pen and I had to rein them all in…so that's how this thing came to be here.
From a very brain-dead author to her readers, thank you for reading, please favorite, alert and review as you wish…hopefully the second chapter should be around soon.
-Green.