Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and The Elder Scrolls belongs to Bethesda/Zenimax.

"Normal Speech"

"Thoughts"

Warning: This is a plot-bunny story.

Chapter 1 - The Agent

Little Hangleton, England (U.K.)

What little sunlight remained in the horizon of Little Hangleton was enough to provide light for a young Harry Potter to observe the events that occurred before him. Movement was impossible for him, being tied to a gravestone, not to mention it would attract the attention of those before him. Alas, Lord Voldemort had been resurrected, and his Death Eaters had now flocked to their old master.

Yet the man seemed to be ignoring him for now, preferring to torment those who were supposed to be loyal to him. He could nothing but stare at the scene, watching as the Death Eaters observed their master with fear and reverence… except for one. One of the Death Eaters was doing the exact opposite, and instead was staring at him. His face behind the mask, Harry could not see who the man was.

"My Lord, we desire to know… we beg you to reveal to us how… how this miracle was possible," said the unmistakable voice of Lucius Malfoy. "How have you returned to us?"

And Voldemort had been too eager to tell the tale. The man spoke of how he had "lived" as a disembodied spirit, possessing animals until the arrival of Quirrell in Albania, leading to the event of four years ago. He also spoke of how Peter Pettigrew had found him, and how he and another Death Eater had helped Voldemort to orchestrate the plan that led to the presence of all of them in the graveyard.

And finally, after the long speech. A small chance of escape presented itself to Harry.

"Untie him Wormtail. And give him back his wand."

A very small chance.

His wounded leg and the wall of Death Eaters made escape impossible, and the fact that Voldemort wanted for them to "duel". Things were not looking up for him. One thing was certain, for Voldemort certainly enjoyed his own monologues.

"Bow to death, Harry."

He refused, and in return, it was as if his own spine had decided to bend on its own accord, a strong pressure forcing him to do so.

"Very well," spoke Voldemort." And now, you shall face me as a man… in the same way that your father died."

Voldemort raised his wand, the spell already on his mouth.

"Cruc-"

Yet it never came. A bright flash of light was all that Harry saw, not coming from Voldemort or his wand, but from one of the Death Eaters. It was as if time had stopped, Voldemort was frozen in place, his Death Eaters and snake just as well. And then, another flash, and all fell on the ground.

All but one.

Harry instantly turned towards the unaffected Death Eater, who stepped forward.

"Forgive me for the abruptness of my actions, Harry Potter," said the man. "But you'll find them to work in your favour."

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, his hand fixed on the robed figure.

"I assure you, I have no intention to harm you," claimed the man. "But for the safety of us both…"

The Death Eater raised his hand, and upon doing so, Harry felt his wand being snatched from his fingers, the man in front of him having somehow summoned it.

"Who are you?" demanded the young wizard.

Still holding his wand, the Death Eater removed his mask and hood, revealing the face of old man, seemingly in his sixties.

"I am Aetius Nott. A pleasure," he said, giving a small bow.

Nott… if he was not mistaken, of his fellow Fourth Years was a Nott. What was his name… Thaddeus? Theodore? Yes, that must be it.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because it is my sworn role, Harry Potter. As was that of my father, and as shall be that of my son."

This was getting even more confusing.

"Role?"

"Had your father survived, you would already be informed of your family's… situation. Unfortunately for both of us, he is dead. And as the gods have seen it fit, this has presented itself as the best opportunity to approach you," said Aetius. "The role I spoke before… I am one of an ancient order called the Dragonguard, sworn protectors of the Reman bloodline."

None of this made sense. "What?"

"Your family, the Potters, are the only legitimate descendants of an ancient bloodline known as the Cyrodiils. We, the Dragonguard, have been for centuries not only their protectors, but also their eyes and ears everywhere."

"But… you're a Death Eater."

Aetius shook his head. "Any allegiance I hold to that sorry excuse for a human being is merely nominal. As I said, the Dragonguard has eyes and ears everywhere. And I am one of those who were assigned the task of infiltrating the Death Eaters."

"Then why did this all happen?" demanded Harry. "If you say your… Dragonguard was supposed to protect my family, then why are they all dead but me?"

"Your father managed to keep us oblivious to the true Secret Keeper. By the time our agents discovered it, it was too late. Voldemort keeps many secrets even from his closest followers, and he acted immediately as soon as the secret had been revealed to him," lamented Nott. "To our luck, you survived. And with you, the blood of the dragon."

So his father and ancestors were involved with some weird group who were supposed to watch over them. All of this was too… strange. Too… sudden. And yet he was accepting everything that was said to him. Perhaps he was numb from the shock of Cedric's death and Voldemort's return. Yes, that had to be it…

"You keep… you keep saying 'dragon'. What with that?" asked Harry.

Nott smiled. "I'm afraid that's something I'm not allowed to explain. Our Grandmaster's orders."

The word "Grandmaster" was said with a heavy hint of amusement.

Harry looked at the ground, glancing for a moment at the corpse of Cedric and the unconscious form of Voldemort. "What now?"

"Now… you return to Hogwarts. Tell them that the Dark Lord returned, and that you managed to escape him and his followers," said Nott. "I would suggest using the Cup. It may bring you back to the Tournament. Also, take Diggory's body with you."

"What about you?"

"I'll remain here. Have to alter a few memories, to make sure no one remembers where those spells came from..."

Harry looked at Voldemort. "Why don't you kill him?"

"Because he has the means to survive beyond physical death. And trust me Harry Potter, he is far more dangerous to us without a body, than with one."

Aetius approached Harry, handing him back his wand.

"I'll be in contact with you very soon. Now go."

Author's Note:

This was an idea that came to me when writing "Rise of Cyrodiil". Taking many aspects of that story, such as the background of Harry's bloodline, altering it a bit, as well as many other things. Of course, if this story does become a full one, it will follow my general head-canon (muh C0DA).

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.