Z.R. Stein
An Old, Battered Book — a Skyrim/Harry Potter crossover AU fic.
I do not own the characters to either series in any way.
Yeah…..so I just can't seem to rustle up enough enthusiasm to do a chapter of my other three fics right now (a thousand apologies for that if you're a fan of those). But, I've found that if I can get my writing blood jump started by starting something new, I can usually pump out at least five or six chapters before I get bored. So, I thought to myself "Hey, why not begin with that idea I've had bouncing around in my head for months?" So, here we go.
This is most likely going to only be a one or two-shot, but I did want to get the idea out there. If anyone wants to pick this up for a full length fic, message me. I think this idea has a lot of potential.
Diagon Alley, the middle of August. The day was mild despite the stiff breeze coming down from the marshes, and wizards and witches milled about as they shopped in anticipation of the upcoming school year. The cobbled street was flooded with pedestrians, sounds echoing up and down the length of the Alley as children shouted, owls screeched, and criers hawked their wares.
A rather large group pushed their way through the crowd, fiery red hair crowning most of their heads.
"Ron, dear, hold mummies purse. George! Stop pestering your brother!"
George Weasley gave his mother a shit eating grin and responded "I'm Fred, not George, mam, and 's not like Percy doesn't deserve it."
"S'right mam, someone needs to pop his big head every now and then, why not us?" Fred finished, his left hand held up in imitation of using a needle.
Molly Weasley swatted the twin's hand away from his older sibling, before huffing. She looked around at the surrounding crowd and huffed again.
"The Alley is crowded like sardines today, we'll be hard pressed to get all and sundry. Arthur, why don't you take Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione to Flourish and Blotts and pick up all of the texts. If we split up, we can shop faster. Here's the book lists."
Arthur nodded amiably, his hands already out, shepherding the four younger members of the group to one end of the alley.
"Come on then. To the bookstore we go, watch out there Harry, don't trip. Blimey, Flourish and Blotts looks swamped, mor'n I've ever seen. Wonder what's causing all the fuss?"
Ginevra Molly Weasley (Ginny to everyone except her mother when Molly was angry) glanced out of the corner of her eye at Harry Potter and blushed. THE Harry Potter! The real, true to life Boy-Who-Lived! Here, walking alongside her! It was a dream come true; he was so handsome, so dashing, so...so...short and skinny.
Ok, so maybe Ginny had been rather...surprised...when her mother had revealed that the scrawny boy on their doorstep with the crooked glasses and mussed up hair was the savior of England. But Ginny was sure his looks were deceiving; after all, Ron had told everyone how he and Harry had fought through all those traps to get to the Philosopher's stone a few months ago. Yeah! Underneath his unassuming exterior, Harry was probably every inch the hero of the wizarding world that she had built up in her mind.
Arthur dragged the four children along, trying to push his way through the crowd outside of Flourish and Blotts, with limited success.
It would be a very long, trying experience.
. . .
Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Hermione all walked towards the exit of the bookshop, arms weighed down with bags of books. Arthur had stayed behind to finish up paying for everything. Harry and Ron were busy snickering over Gilderoy Lockhart's ridiculousness, while Ginny and Hermione studiously ignored the boys, both of them rather smitten with the young adventurer. Privately, Ginny wondered if she should start writing down 'Ginny Lockhart' in her journals; after a moment she discarded the idea. Harry was the only one for her. Her Harry Potter...
"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter."
The group stopped, Ginny jolting out of her pre-teen fantasies. Before her stood a boy around Ron's age, with blonde hair so pale it almost appeared silver. The sneer on his lips was somehow simultaneously smug, disgusted, and mocking.
"Famous Harry Potter. Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page. Pathetic."
Ginny's eye twitched, rage rising in her stomach. How dare this boy insult her future husband!
"Leave him alone."
The boy looked down at her, his sneer turning leery.
"Oh look Potter, you got yourself a girlfriend."
At that comment, all of Ginny's rage faded, a radiant blush spreading across her face. If that's what this boy thought….maybe Harry thought it too? Thankfully, no one noticed her change in demeanor, as a newcomer had appeared to draw the attention off of Ginny. He looked like an older version of the silver haired boy, a cane held in one hand and a matching sneer on his face. Just by looking at his clothes, Ginny could tell that he was very rich.
"Now now Draco. Play nicely." said the man, his sneer changing into a stiff, cold smile. "Mister Potter. Lucius Malfoy. We meet at last."
Ginny's eyes widened as she connected the man to the name; so this was the politician that her father loved to rant about. Lucius Malfoy, the oily Death Eater who had somehow wriggled his way out of punishment and back into wizarding society, setting himself up as the Minister's unofficial right hand. No one who crossed Lucius survived very long, something which Arthur was very sure that every member of his family understood.
Lucius pulled Harry in closer, parting Harry's bangs.
"Forgive me...your scar is legend. As of course is the wizard who gave it to you...some might even say your fame would be nothing without him."
Harry's mouth twitched, but he didn't say anything. Ron had made sure to inform him how dangerous Lucius was. Draco was fair game while in school, but his father was a whole other story. Looking around, Lucius' eyes alighted on Ron and Ginny, his lips curling up unpleasantly.
"Well well well. What have we here? Red hair...vacant expressions…" The man reached down into Ginny's bag before she could react and pulled out one of her texts "Tattered, second hand books. You must be the Weasleys. Ah, and there's Arthur in the back. No doubt scrounging for the last of his Knuts to pay for this paltry collection. Well. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mister Potter. I simply wanted to stop by and say hello."
Lucius' grin widened and he dropped the book back into Ginny's bag.
"Come Draco."
Draco scoffed and followed, falling into line with his father.
The group let out heavy breaths, all of them thankful that the Malfoy's were gone.
"Blimey...I thought Draco was bad...his dad's ten times worse." muttered Harry.
Ron nodded in agreement, while Hermione pinched her nose with one hand.
"I still can't believe that people like that are allowed to be government officials...honestly."
Ginny shrugged and responded "It's pureblood politics. Mum and dad aren't much for them, but the Malfoys are old money. It's just the way things are."
The children's conversation was interrupted by Arthur, who remained blissfully unaware of the meeting. He cheerfully directed the children to their next shopping stop.
As the day wore on, Ginny couldn't help but notice that her book bag was a little bit heavier than it had been when she'd first picked it up.
. . .
Lucius Malfoy smiled to himself as he sat in his study. The plan was elegantly simple, and would bear interesting fruit. That cursed journal in her bag was a gift from Voldemort; whatever it did, he was sure that it would ruin Arthur and his entire blood traitor family. The Weasleys were becoming far to influential for their station, what with their connection to Harry Potter and Dumbledore's favour. This way, they would be taken out of the limelight, and he could reassert his control over Arthur's pitiful department.
Humming to himself, Lucius stood up, trailing his fingers over the shelves to the place where he had drawn the cursed journal from. If he remembered correctly, he had stored his copy of Witches Weekly behind it where Narcissa wouldn't find it. He could use some relaxation right about now.
Reaching the spot on the shelf, Lucius paused. There was the place that the journal had been...except that the journal was still there. He drew it off the shelf just to make sure, opening it to behold it's blank pages and snake crest. Yes, this was indeed the cursed journal...still in his house, not in Ginevra Weasley's bookbag. The Witches Weekly magazine forgotten, Lucius sifted through the shelves, trying desperately to remember what had occupied the space immediately beside Voldemort's journal. What in Merlin's name had he dropped into that bookbag instead of the cursed object?!
. . .
Several hours later, after the Weasley family had arrived back from Diagon Alley, Ginny pulled out her bookbag and began sorting through the texts she had acquired for her first year at Hogwarts. Her toes positively curled in excitement! She giggled as she sorted out the books, imagining herself in the classes they were for. According to Ron and Harry, Transfiguration was wicked hard but wicked cool, and Mcgonagall was head of Gryffindor house to boot. Charms would be very interesting, especially considering all of the household spells that that school of magic contained. Defense Against the Dark Arts would undoubtedly be the best class of the year with Lockhart teaching it. Potions with Snape would likely not be very enjoyable, but it wasn't as if…
Ginny paused as she came upon a book that she hadn't remembered being on the list of texts. Dropping her other books, she raised it out of the bag and studied it. It was old, that was for sure; parts of the cover were falling off, and the edges of the pages were yellow and musty. It was a very well made book though; silver clasps held the tome together, while a stylized silver dragon graced the cover. The writing on the book was not in English, nor in any other language that Ginny knew. Opening the book, she saw that the pages were filled with more of the strange writing; rows and rows of characters, arcane runes that looked as if a wild animal had ground their claws into the page.
After a few minutes of looking through the strange book, Ginny shrugged and made to close it. It wasn't like she was miraculously going to figure out the meaning behind the unintelligible symbols.
As she was closing the book though, her hand slid and Ginny felt the sharp sting of a papercut.
"Ouch!"
Moving her hand into her mouth, she began to suck on the cut. A single drop of blood had spilled onto the page, and had quickly spread into the bone dry parchment. Ginny used her free hand to finally shut the cover and set the book aside. It was late, questions about the mysterious tome could wait until tomorrow. Ginny cleared the books off of her bed and set them on the floor before collapsing onto the covers. She was out within ten minutes.
. . .
Drums. She could hear the beating of drums, the keening of wind, the crackle of flames, and a strange chant that was barely audible.
"...huzrah, nu...wah aan...lingrah vod..."
Blood. She could taste it on the wintry breeze, the scent flooding her nostrils.
"...ahrk fin tey, boziik fun, do...gein..."
Power. She could feel it coursing through her veins, intoxicating, unimaginable power. The low chanting resonated within her, vibrating down to the marrow of her bones.
"Wo lost fron wah ney dov, ahrk fin reyliik do jul, voth aan suleyk wah ronit faal krein."
A city was burning. People were dying. And yet, she did not feel despair. Instead, there was a fierce joy. Her blood sang as a roar shook the air. A challenger had come.
"Ahrk fin kel lost prodah, Do ved viing ko fin krah, Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein!"
The chanting became louder, and her heart beat faster. A shadow passed over the burning city, and the inhabitants looked up in despair.
"NUZ AAN SUL, FENT ALOK, FOD FIN VUL DOVAH NOK, FEN KOS NAHLOT MAHFAERAAK AHRK RUUUUUZ!"
The chanting shook the entire world. In front of her, the shadow touched down, fire bursting from between jagged teeth.
"PAAZ KEIZAAL FEN KOS STIN NOL BEIN ALDUIN JOT!"
And she was…
She was…
Dovahkiin
Not my best work, but I'm trying to pull myself out of my slump, so its bound to be a bit sloppy. Tell me what you think, and if you're interested in adopting it, send me an ask.