AN: If you recognize it, I don't own it! Even if you do recognize it, if it's Harry Potter or Halo, I don't own it! R&R and Enjoy! Rated M for a reason!

Chapter One:

The War

Darian Griffin Quincey wasn't pleased. He'd been fighting against the Dark Forces for years, and he was almost sixteen! He paced through the rubble of the ruins of London, which had been completely destroyed that fateful year that the leader of the forces came out of hiding. Darian wasn't a normal guy, though, he was six foot five, heavily muscled, extremely strong, a parkour expert, a black belt in martial arts, a master of the sword, though he preferred his hand-and-a-half sword, which he had taken from a downed enemy, and had been using since. It was almost five feet long, yet he could swing it as though it were nothing more than a two foot willow switch, but when not in use it shrank into a silver and black pendant that he wore on his right wrist as a matter of habit. Black combat boots, black slacks, a dark gray, long sleeved button-up, and a black vest were his clothes of choice, but the black trench coat he wore over everything was his personal symbol. Embroidered in glossy black thread over his right breast was a dragon.

He was nicknamed the Black Dragon for a reason, after all. The sword he used had a dragon engraved onto the blade, over the cross guard, and the pommel was a small spike, and it was entirely black. Suddenly, he tensed, and the pendant started glowing black, and vanished. In his hand was his sword, and he dropped into a fighting stance that was unique to him. He hit the deck in a roll, jets of multi-colored lights flying overhead. He was up on his feet in a second, his sword moving bewilderingly fast, the jets of light aimed directly at him getting sent up into the sky by his blade, which he'd named Shikaeshi, or Revenge, in the Japanese language. He lunged forward, swinging Shikaeshi in a broad arc, removing the head of one of his opponents, deflecting a green jet of light with preternatural speed, and lay into the source of the jet. He knew that the jet killed upon contact, he'd seen it often enough, taking his friends, comrades, and allies before his very eyes.

A demonic snarl transformed his normally amiable expression into one of primal rage, which had his opponents started to back up, but he was too fast, too strong. They didn't get the chance to retreat, being cut down where they stood, his black blade creating designs of crimson in the air as it cut through his victims. Finally, the last was dead, and he swung Shikaeshi at an angle to remove the blood, which flowed off of it, before it returned to it's pendant form. A man stood behind him. "You are a demon in disguise, aren't you?" he asked.

"Only to those who incite my wrath," was Darian's answer.

"Would you like to stop all this senseless bloodshed?" the man asked, after a momentary pause.

"More than anything," said Darian, turning to face the man.

"Before it even starts?" This left Darian confused.

"How would that work?" he asked, confused. "This war has been going on for years."

"I am not totally human, Darian. I am Magic, and My word is Law," said the man, with a sly glint.

"Your form is betrayed by the eye of the beholder," remarked Darian, examining Magic, who laughed, and released the illusion. The form of a beautiful young woman stood there, a mischievous glint to her eye. Darian bowed lowly, "My Lady. How my your humble servant and swordsman help you?"

Magic's smile was quite bright. "I want you to end this war before it even starts. The nonmagical community should never have gotten involved," She sounded pissed. "I need you to help my Chosen One, may his soul rest in eternal peace, to win this war before it comes out of the shadows."

"Your request is my command, my Lady. I swear to help your Chosen end this war," said Darian, bowing once again.

"Oh, and Darian?"

"Yes?" asked Darian, looking up at her, not straightening up from his bow.

"You'll need a wand. One good for combat magics and transfiguration, I think," said Magic musingly, her head cocked as she looked at him. She held out a stick, "Thirteen inches, phoenix feather, basilisk venom, and unicorn hair cores, Blackforest Wood, slightly springy. By the way, enjoy your new form while you're there."

Darian didn't even get a chance to ask what she meant, as he took the outstretched wand, and he was yanked backwards through time and space, receiving a black arm band, which the wand almost immediately attached to, and when he landed, he slammed into the ground with enough force to leave bruises, and wound up getting knocked unconscious.

"Who is he?" asked Harry, who was staring at the recently arrived man in black and dark gray. a sword pendant hung around his right wrist, and he was extremely tall. Black hair was bound in a low ponytail, keeping it out of his face, and he was leanly muscled. Hagrid approached cautiously, spotted the long, pointed ears, and sucked in a breath.

"Hagrid?"

"He's an elf," said Hagrid. "I didn't know that there was an elf that could grow to his height, though."

The elf groaned, and pushed himself upright, and they immediately realized they'd misinterpreted the elf's gender. He wasn't a 'he' at all, in fact, 'he' was a she! She was lean, muscled, and clearly built with agility in mind. She looked around, then pushed herself up so she was sitting on her feet and knees, and sighed heavily. "Well," she said, examining herself. "I wasn't expecting Magic to suit me up like this." She paused, then said, "If you'll excuse me," and quickly found herself a bathroom. A shriek of surprise came out of the bathroom, and she came back out, looking irritated. "Magic, you fragging whore, you have a sadistic sense of humor, don't you?" she demanded, quietly.

There was a sourceless peal of laughter, that was cut off almost immediately. "That answers that question," muttered the elf woman. "Who am I?" She paused, it apparently coming back to her. "Ohhh, right!" She turned to Harry and Hagrid, then bowed to them, her right hand fisted at her heart. "I am Lyryan Shubarutsu. Who, may I ask, are you?"

"Harry Potter," said Harry, bowing back.

"Rubeus Hagrid," said Hagrid, nodding to her. "Call me Hagrid, everyone does."

"Alright, Hagrid," said Lyryan, seemingly taken aback by his tacit dismissal of respect. She shrugged, and looked around. "So... Where am I?"

Both Harry and Hagrid stared at her. "What?" she asked, feeling self-conscious. "I've never been to this timeline before. I'm completely new here."

"Timeline?" asked Harry, utterly confused.

"I wasn't supposed to say that, I don't think," muttered Lyryan, glancing upwards guiltily. She sighed, muttering something. "I guess I'll have to tell you..." She didn't sound too happy. "First off, either one of you spills this, I'll kill you," she was dead serious, "I'm actually from the future, when the Dark gets out of the shadows, and takes the War to the nonmagical folk. Now that I think about it, I'm technically rewriting history simply by being here. Whatever. I was originally known as Darian Griffin Quincey, or the Black Dragon. I'm keeping the nickname, though.

"I was only about eight when the war started, and I've been fighting it for..." She paused, head tilted, eyes distant. "About ten years or so, I think. It may have been longer though." She shook her head. "To get back on track; When I was eight was when the Dark came out of the shadows, and I was in London when it was reduced to ruins and rubble. That's where Magic found me, actually, but that's neither here nor there yet. I was found by the remnants of the British Army, and they sent me all over the world to learn how to defend myself. I learned and mastered martial arts, parkour, the way of the sword, or bushido, if you want to get technical about it, as well as first aid. I can fight just as well as I can stitch someone up, but only if I'm not distracted." She paused, almond shaped sapphire blue eyes darkening with sorrow, "I saw many of my friends, comrades, and allies die, all their lives snuffed by a green jet of life. I'm the only one that the army knows of that has the kind of speed needed to either dodge or deflect that kind of a spell, as well as the only one with the power to do so." She paused again, this time fingering the pendant wrapped around her wrist, then sighed. "I might as well show you," she remarked, softly. The pendant started to glow black, then suddenly vanished. In her hand was the biggest sword Harry had ever seen, and it was completely black. Lyryan smiled softly at the blade. "This is Shikaeshi, my hand-and-a-half sword slash pendant. She spun it around, and stabbed it into the ground, before flicking her wrist. This time, a stick, which hadn't been anywhere on her, shot into her hand. "This is my wand, although I still have yet to give it a name." She examined the wand. It was a beautiful piece of work, one that she admired. "Thirteen inches, Blackforest wood, phoenix feather, basilisk venom, and unicorn hair cores. According to magic, slightly springy, good for combat magics and transfiguration." She grinned at their unbelieving expressions. "I'm a warrior, first and foremost." She flicked her wrist again, and the wand vanished. "I got the sword as a spoil of war, and the wand was given to me by Magic, herself. She also gifted me with my clearly female elven body, as she seems to enjoy having nothing but women around her." Lyryan cocked her head, then grinned mischievously. "I think she likes the girl-on-girl aspect of it."

This time there was a choking noise, and Lyryan couldn't help it, she started laughing. "I finally got you back, Magic!" she cried, punching the air. "Anyway," she sobered up suddenly, "I'm here to help Magic's Chosen One to win this war before it gets out of hand. That, I believe, would be you, Harry." Lyryan looked at him, then knelt. "Would you accept me as friend, bodyguard, and fellow student?" she asked, softly.

Harry was startled. He glanced at Hagrid for help, but instead of Hagrid answering, a voice that was very warm spoke, "Harry, you are my Chosen One. Lyryan told nothing but the truth. If you accept her, set your hand on her shoulder, but be careful, she's not comfortable with sudden touch, and say, 'I accept you as a friend, bodyguard, and student. If you want more than that, say so. From your head, I'd say sibling, which would make you her brother. If that's the case, use the blade of the pendant, not in full form, it's worse than a Dementor, but cut each of your palms, and press them together. I will then accept the blood-bond, and you will be brother and sister, and as such, you will gain a valuable ally and sibling."

Harry reached forward, pausing slightly when she tensed, but set his hand on her shoulder. She looked up into his eyes. "I accept you as a friend, bodyguard, student, and sibling." Lyryan looked at him in shock, then slowly, tears fell down her face, and she hugged him, whispering, "Thank you, thank you," over and over again. She slowly regained her composure, and pulled away, removing her pendant from her wrist. She cut a line across her palm, and passed it to Harry, who did the same, despite Hagrid's complaints. They then clasped right hands, lacing their fingers together, and there was a flash of brilliant light, and Magic cried, "And done!" exultantly. Harry and Lyryan unlaced their fingers, and on their palms were the Japanese rune for love. They hugged again, then Lyryan said, "So, Harry, I believe we've some shopping to do?" while she wrapped the pendant around her wrist once again.

Just then, an owl fluttered down out of the storm-wracked sky, and dropped a letter towards her, which she snatched out of the air. She took a good look at the address, and her jaw dropped.

Ms. L. Shubarutsu-Potter

Rock On The Sea,

London

Lyryan raised one delicately elegant eyebrow, and slit the letter open. She read it, her eyebrow getting ever higher. "Apparently I'm a witch..." she trailed off as she read it. "I'm to be put in your year, Harry, or so it says..." Harry waited for her to finish, then snatched the letter from her fingers.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Shubarutsu-Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely.

Minerva McGonagall

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

She raised an eyebrow at Hagrid, who sighed, but sent off another letter. "We're stayin' here fer tonigh', if tha's all righ' with you," said Hagrid, who was looking at her like he hadn't seen her before in his life (Which was true, he'd never seen anything like her before, so how could he have actually seen her before?).

Lyryan simply shrugged, saying, "I'm used to sleeping everywhere, so it doesn't really bother me."

Hagrid looked at her distrustfully, but they stepped into the shack on the rock, where the Dursley family was. Lyryan looked at them, snorted, and turned to a wall, which she sat against after wrapping herself in her black trench coat. She leaned back, setting her head against the wall, and jumped when she felt a head land in her lap. She looked down, and saw Harry, who'd made use of her lap as a pillow. She smiled softly at him, then leaned back, closing her eyes, and slipping into a half asleep state. Magic appeared, also smiling. "Yes?" she asked.

"I'd like to stay with him, if it's alright," said Lyryan, looking at Magic pleadingly.

"I gave you the new body so you could do just that, Lyryan. Protect him, for he means everything to both of us," said Magic. "The Dursleys are coming for him right now, so please, do something about them."

"How much force can I use?" asked Lyryan, preparing to exit the half-asleep state she was in.

"Non-lethal, but incapacitate them," said Magic, flatly. Lyryan inclined her head, and exited the half-asleep state, rocketing to her feet as soon as Harry's head left her lap. She pegged the lead Dursley in the solar plexus as hard as she could, short of causing damage, and pegged the horse-like woman in a pressure point that would knock her unconscious. She kicked the youngest, her foot pegging him hard enough to send him flying, but not far, knocking him unconscious simultaneously. "You will not lay a hand on him!" she hissed, crouched protectively over Harry, who was now awake and cowering away from the Dursleys, and more than a little afraid of his new blood sister. She turned, kneeling, and took one of his hands. "I'm sorry you had to witness that," she whispered, pulling him into her embrace, tucking his head into her shoulder. "I will do whatever I must to protect my family, Harry."

He pulled away from her, crawling backwards into a corner, and a hurt look crossed Lyryan's face, before she turned away. "I'm sorry," she whispered, but stood and walked away from him. Her entire body radiated dejection, and the look in her eye when she turned to look at him was one who had lost everything, no bonds, no nothing, and walked willingly to their execution. She turned away, seeing him make eye contact, and sat in the darkest corner she could find, her fair complexion making her stand out, but not obnoxiously so. Her sapphire eyes, which could tell someone what she was feeling if one knew what to look for, were dark with sorrow. She sat down again, and took out her hair tie, before setting her head on her crossed forearms, the curtain of black hair blocking off his view of her face. She fell into the welcoming darkness of unconsciousness willingly for once, and Harry was still sitting there, his eyes wide with shock at how much pain and sorrow were in her eyes. He curled up where he was, and finally fell asleep, but his sleep was hardly restful.

Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight.

"It was a dream," he told himself firmly. "I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to school for wizards, or made an elven woman my blood sister. When I open my eyes, I'll be at home in my cupboard."

There was suddenly a loud tapping noise.

And there's Aunt Petunia knocking on the door, Harry thought, his heart sinking. But he still didn't open his eyes. It had been such a good dream.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

There was the rustle of cloth, the sound of the window opening, the tinkle of change, and the window closing. There was a rustle of paper as whoever had taken the paper, tossed it at another occupant of the room, shocking them awake. "Gallopin' Gargoyles!" shouted Hagrid, almost falling off the couch.

"No," said the scratchy voice of his elven blood-sister. "Just me." She sounded bad, almost like she was in pain. Harry opened his eyes, and saw his sister standing there, near him, a sorrowful look about her face, before it abruptly closed off. She turned away, saying, "I'll get breakfast started, I guess."

Harry felt guilty about how he'd reacted last night, but he didn't know how to fix the rift that had become between them. How can one explain one's natural urges when confronted with violence? A plate was placed in front of Harry, but the hand that had set it down was trembling. "Lyryan..." Harry trailed off. He finally continued, "I'm sorry for last night."

"I don't trust easy, Harry," said Lyryan, softly, crouching. "You hurt me more than you know by pulling away when you did. I will always protect my family, no matter what. Even if I can't be myself around you, I will still protect you." She stood, and walked away, getting herself food. She sat well away from him, though, that defeated look back into place. Harry heard quite clearly, "It seems that even here I'm completely, utterly alone, and that even if I wanted to, I can't trust anyone." That statement almost made Harry ache by the loneliness, sorrow, and pain in the statement. She ate quickly, and headed outside, where she stood, staring at the rapidly brightening sky. She dove into the sea when Harry and Hagrid came out of the hut and got into the boat. Lyryan kept swimming to shore, even when Harry and Hagrid attempted to talk her into getting into the boat, but she kept swimming faster, much to their surprise.

She climbed onto the shore, and dried by utilizing her internal energy by heating herself up to the point where her clothes and hair were steaming. She walked over to them, only to have Hagrid demand, "How did you swim so fast?"

She gave him a flat, if exhausted, glare. "You've been nothing but rude to me, Hagrid. Is it because I'm an elf? Or the fact that I have a wand? A combination? Or do you suspect me to be in line with the people who want to be around Harry because he's famous? Or, better yet, the people who want to kill him?" she growled. "If I wanted to kill him, I could have done so. If I wanted to have a part of his fame, I would have just befriended him, or married him. I can't do jack shit about me being an elf, and I'm not throwing away something that Magic gave me just so you can slip back into your old ideals, Hagrid. I want to be a part of his family, I want him to have a family. I want him to know love, care, all these things that he's missed for the last ten years of his life! You want a child hero, don't you?" She was rapidly backing Hagrid into a corner, her sapphire eyes flashing dangerously. "You want a child hero to take care of something you can't seem to be able to do, even with an army at your beck and call! I'm not stupid, Hagrid. I can see just fine. I'm not liking what I'm seeing, though." She spun on her heel, and stalked away, leaving Hagrid where he was. "Where are we going?" she snapped at him.

"The Leaky Cauldron," said Hagrid.

Lyryan took Harry's hand, and they just faded out of sight. They faded into view at the Leaky Cauldron, where she nodded to the barkeeper, tucking her black hair behind one pointed ear. The barkeep nodded back, and called, "Hogwarts business, elf?"

"Yes," she called back. "I'm Lyryan, not elf!"

"Nice to meet you, I'm Tom! Tap the wall three times. It should react to your touch," replied Tom. Lyryan nodded her thanks, and lead Harry out back, and tapped on the wall, muttering something about witches and wizards, and their prejudice. She turned to Harry, and asked, "You'll leave the prejudice behind when we talk, right?"

He nodded, wondering why she was asking. She sighed, and gave him a small smile. "Thanks." She brushed the wall with her long fingers, and it melted away into an archway. Hagrid had caught up to them by then, the path through the pub having been made difficult by all the people wanting to meet Harry. Hagrid seemed disgruntled, but said, "Welcome to Diagon Alley."