Shout – Harry Potter/Skyrim

Based off DZ2's New Powers challenge.

Plot: Harry wasn't as defenceless as people wanted to believe; on his first visit to Diagon Alley he discovers something that changes him in more ways than one and unleashes a power far beyond that of magic. Those who wish to do him harm must beware, for the Dragonborn comes.


SHOUT


Sniffling as she wiped her face down with her robe sleeves, Hermione Granger pulled her wand from her pocket and held it out before her.

"Lumos"

Watching as light shone from the tip of her wand, Hermione felt some of the pain from Weasley's words earlier that day slipping away. She was a Witch, a darn good one at that, and just because the red-headed boy couldn't manage to cast a simple cantrip didn't mean that she was any less his superior because of her blood.

She was better than him, and they both knew it. She deserved to be here.

Shaking it off and cancelling her spell, Hermione pocketed her wand and unlatched the door to her cubicle, pausing for a moment at the shuffling sound she could hear in the bathroom beyond. Assuming it was just another student; she swung open the cubicle door and stepped out into the bathroom, freezing at the sight of the huge mountain troll standing in the doorway.

The book she'd read about them, 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them', hadn't described them properly. They were magical creatures of immense strength and unbeatable stupidity, and were said to reach up to twelve feet high, weighing around a ton. What the book failed to mention however, was the smell of rotting socks and dead fish that followed them, and the look of savage blood-lust in the troll's eyes as it peered down at her.

Unable to stop the whimper that slipped from her mouth, Hermione stepped back into the cubicle and closed the door, recognising a mere second later how useless that action had truly been. Dropping to her knees, she instead tried to crawl back into the corner of the cubicle, only now realising that she was alone in a bathroom with nobody knowing where she was. In that moment, it didn't matter that she didn't know how a troll got into what she'd been told was the 'safest place in all of Britain', all that mattered was that only thing between her and it was a piece of flimsy wood.

A scream was torn from her lips as the cubicle exploded around her, leaving her cowering back further, trying to squeeze as much of herself into the corner as she could, the troll standing over her as it pulled it's club back and raised it over its head. Moving in what felt like slow motion, Hermione watched as the troll brought its club down, a muffled shout from the door proving to be her only salvation as a rippling shockwave slammed into the troll and lifted it off its feet to throw it into the wall.

Sitting there, frozen in shock, it took the troll beginning to climb to its feet to knock Hermione out of her daze. Pushing herself up, she clambered over the remains of the cubicle and rushed towards the door, faltering only slightly at the sight of the infamous Harry Potter standing alone in the doorway. Allowing the Boy-Who-Lived to grab her arm and pull her behind him, she watched as he didn't remove his faintly glowing eyes from the now standing troll.

"Harry!" she hissed, tugging at his robe sleeve as the troll picked up its club again. "We need to go. Now!"

Harry just snorted instead, yanking his arm free of her hand and shaking his head. "I'll not run from this raan," he muttered under his breath. As the troll charged forward, Hermione watched as Harry merely raised his chin and, radiating power, spoke just two words.

"Zun Haal".

As the words fell from his lips, she watched a ripple of power exploding from his body, washing over the troll that roared angrily as its club was torn from its grasp and thrown back to lodge itself in the wall behind it.

"Oh my god," Hermione blurted in shock, looking between the wandless Harry and the confused looking troll.

"Actually, my name is Harry," the Boy-Who-Lived corrected innocently, still not looking away from the troll which shook it's head before rearing back to roar at them. Whimpering embarrassingly again at the fear-inducing sound, Hermione could only stand there and watch as Harry made an amused sound before saying "My turn".

Watching in horror as Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, Hermione made a noise at the back of her throat as he stepped forward and screamed "Fus Ro Dah!" back at the troll, the same rippling shockwave from before erupting from his mouth and slamming into the troll, hurling it back into the wall with a sickening crack.

"I win," Harry deadpanned when the troll didn't stir, turning on his heel and striding from the bathroom before Hermione had time to react, leaving her cowering against the wall for a moment before she was sprinting after her rescuer.

"How- how did you do that?" she demanded as she caught up with the boy who so far had confused most of Hogwarts by being the opposite of what they'd expected. "You didn't have a wand, and you did all that by just speaking!"

"Yup".

"How?" Hermione pressed, annoyance filling her as Harry didn't say anything else. She appreciated the fact that he'd saved her, and she would definitely make it up to the boy, but couldn't he at least tell her how he'd done it?

Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, her fellow Gryffindor just smiled innocently at her, "Haven't you heard? I'm the Boy-Who-Lived".


SHOUT


It was a truly magnificent mirror, reaching up to the ceiling of the unused classroom, an expensive looking golden frame standing on two clawed feet surrounding it. Along the top, there was something carved into the frame, carvings that Harry felt a flicker of hope upon seeing.

Disappointment flooded him as he realised what the carvings said, the writing 'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi' being merely English reflected backwards as if through a mirror, and not the Dovah-Zul runes from his book as he'd hoped.

Frowning slightly as a thought struck him, Harry slowly stepped in front of the mirror, blinking at his reflection as he took in the hair moving as in an unseen breeze and the almost incandescent light shining from behind his eyes.

"Huh," he grunted out simply, turning and heading from the room as he pulled his invisibility cloak back over his head. He might as well go back to Gryffindor Tower for the night; he didn't doubt Filch and Snape would be hovering around the library waiting to catch their intruder. He could continue his search for information about Dovah-Zul tomorrow night.

He had time.


SHOUT


"I don't understand… is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"

Eyes flicking between Quirrell's back and the mirror, Harry mind raced to figure out how he could get the Philosopher's Stone before Quirrell getting it first or figuring out what he was up to.

This was why he liked Hermione. She was smart, she was challenging, and she pushed him to do his best when he couldn't see himself possibly going further. And that was why he couldn't help but hear Hermione's voice echoing through his head as he thought, a reminder of the blonde idiot Malfoy's attempt at challenging him to a duel at midnight.

'You can't duel him Harry, you're a first year. All you can do is shoot sparks and yell at him in another language!'

While Hermione's words were still true, Harry not knowing any more spells than the simple cantrips he'd been taught in classes, Harry did have his ability to 'yell at him in another language'. And it didn't really matter that Harry only knew a few phrases and words in Dovah-Zul, he still knew enough that he'd have the element of surprise should Quirrell try something.

"Use the boy".

Freezing for a moment in shock, Harry couldn't fight as Quirrell spun around and snapped his fingers, the ropes surrounding Harry tightening as they lifted off the ground and floated down to rest at Quirrell's side. "Look in the mirror, boy," the fake professor ordered snappishly, "Look into the mirror and tell me what you see".

Taking a deep breath and almost choking on the funny smell emanating from Quirrell's turban, Harry turned his head to stare into the mirror, focusing on his own reflection and not that of Quirrell.

His first thought was that he needed to eat more, that he was too pale and skinny. But then his reflection smirked at him, his eyes shining brightly as he reached into his pocket to pull out a blood-red stone. Baring his teeth as he grinned at him, Harry could only watch as a wisp of smoke slipped out of the corner of his mouth as his reflection pocketed the Stone, Harry not reacting as he felt a weight landing in his own pocket.

Reaching up with his hand, Mirror-Harry started drawing on the glass before him, a series of familiar runes in Dovah-Zul glowing brightly as Harry drank them in greedily.

"Well?" demanded Quirrell, when Harry didn't speak, "What do you see?"

"I see fire," he breathed out, slowly turning his head to face Quirrell as he tapped into the restless indescribable power residing in his chest, a familiar chanting filling his ears as he smirked at the man with glowing eyes.

"Yol"

Almost instantly fire exploded between them, Harry hitting the ground roughly as Quirrell was thrown back by the cone of flames that poured from his mouth. The ropes just falling off of him, he shrugged them off and climbed to his feet, watching as Quirrell tripped over and started trying to roll about and put the fire out, his wand lying on the floor.

Reaching out slowly, Harry snapped the ex-professor's wand with a booted foot, biting back the urge to hurl as the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. Not wanting to watch Quirrell dying any longer, he turned and started towards the door, somehow confident that the flame barrier would let him pass. Just reaching the door, an unearthly shriek from behind him made Harry freeze, spinning around to see a black wraith rising up out of Quirrell's body, hovering there for a moment before diving towards Harry who turned and dove through the fire wall.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Following the spell, a ghostly bird made of silver light shot over Harry, tearing into the wraith that was forced to retreat up through the ceiling of the chamber as a set of blinding green robes appeared beside him.

"Harry? Harry!" Professor Dumbledore's voice called, sounding as if from a distance as Harry felt his body going limp, the strain of using such a powerful Thu'um before he was ready for it sending him spiralling into the black realm of sleep.