Xylia had to admit that she had zoned out for the majority of the sorting. It only seemed to involve a talking hat and about a million little kids. She knew that most of them had stolen glances at her, but she was preoccupied with thinking about which tomes she should select. The only way that she was going to get them, obviously, would be in Apocrypha. She dreaded stepping foot into that place, but the idea of trying to teach someone her magic excited her.
She was brought out of her thoughts after the meal when Dumbledore began to announce the Triwizard Tournament. Before he could properly announce it, the door to the Great Hall slammed open. In the frame of the door stood a man in a long, black coat with a cane. His hair was scraggly, and he seemed to have a strange prosthetic eye. Xylia regretted dispersing the storm. It would have been far more dramatic had he entered during it.
The man then started towards the head table. He had a prosthetic leg, too, Xylia realized upon hearing the clunk every other step. Upon closer inspection, his face was heavily scarred. He came up to Dumbledore and shook his hand, although Xylia couldn't hear the mumbled conversation. Soon enough, the man sat next to Dumbledore and began eating. His prosthetic eye still wildly looked about the hall.
"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody," Dumbledore said brightly. The students seemed weary about him still, and Xylia wasn't quite sure what to think about it yet. She was vaguely aware that Lupin had resigned, but she forgot that he would be replaced.
Afterwards, Dumbledore then announced the Triwizard Tournament. The hall then broke into raucous voices. Xylia zoned out, thinking of her own problems. She'd heard the rules before, and she knew what the tournament involved. She inwardly sighed just thinking about how many eyes would be on her the whole time. The first years were still glancing up at her every once in a while. She wasn't introduced, she supposed, so they'd probably only hear rumors about her. Fantastic.
Xylia supposed that she might as well spend less time away from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She was definitely interested in seeing what Moody would be teaching, but there was another class that she figured that she needed to examine.
Snape's lips curled at her, but he definitely was not smiling. Most of the other professors were happy to show her their subjects, but Snape, obviously, deemed her to be more of an inconvenience than anything.
"Have you ever even made a potion?" Snape asked her.
Xylia scratched the top of her head. "I've dabbled a little bit in it, just experimenting with things I've found in my journeys. I know a few health potions and some poisons, but it's much easier to just find those potions at the market."
"There isn't always a time when you can buy these potions…from markets," he replied, obviously insulted by the fact that Xylia had basically suggested that it was unnecessary for her to learn his trade.
"No, I suppose not, but what I don't have in potions, I can usually substitute for spells or shouts. Don't misunderstand; I am speaking of potions that exist in Tamriel. I'm certain that the potions that you know are much different than those," she said, hoping that she would lighten the blow.
"It seems as though your world is lacking when it comes to potions," he sneered.
Xylia nodded, thankful that her slight ass kissing seemed to turn out. "It seems that it may be that way."
The elf was less than pleased after observing Snape for the day. He was callous and rude, especially to students who didn't belong to his own house. She thought that the house thing would create a divide amongst the students, and it seemed as though the source of such a divide came from none other than the teachers.
Additionally, he seemed quite biased towards Xylia, too. This, she didn't care too much about. If only one man in a castle didn't like her, then she considered that to be a good day. The verbal abuse of children, however? She had to disagree.
As he was exiting the classroom, she snagged Harry by the arm. For a moment, the boy got defensive against her before he realized who she was. "Blimey," he mumbled to himself. "What's going on?"
"Does he always treat students in that manner?" she asked him in a hushed tone. Harry felt the change in her energy. Usually, she seemed very laid back, even on her very first day when she faced Mora. Now, it seemed as though she were stressed.
Harry tilted his head. "Yeah, I suppose. He's always been like that."
Xylia furrowed her brows. "Despicable," she spat before turning around. Obviously, with that kind of lax attitude, Xylia wasn't going to be able to do much to help.
When the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons arrived, Xylia received as much attention as she suspected she would. Their entrances were grand and spectacular, sure, but she saw how many of the students shot her glances during it. It was just pure, unbridled curiosity. Xylia nearly wondered if she should just stand on display and let them view her close up.
It was the Goblet of Fire, of course, that really drew Xylia's attention. More importantly, it was the idea of an event in which she was not participating. She was used to participating in nearly everything in Skyrim, to the point in which it felt as though nothing would get done if she weren't there. Now, she was a mere spectator. She wasn't sure if she enjoyed it or not.
After the students got up and meandered about the cup, examining its flame, Xylia took her turn.
"What…are you?" a student asked her. She turned to who asked her, a boy from Durmstrang. The question in his voice didn't suit his confident stance. A quick look around her, and Xylia noticed a lot of girls watching him. He must have been somewhat famous.
Xylia gave a tight smile and extended her hand. "My name is Xylia. I'm a high elf."
The boy cautiously accepted the handshake. "Viktor Krum," he introduced himself. "Sorry," he apologized before escaping the awkward situation. Looking at him, Xylia could tell that he wasn't the absolute brightest, but he at least had the courage to ask her and not hide behind pillars, stealing whatever looks of her they could grab.
Xylia left the hall. Students would likely be there for a while, so she escaped back to her room.
She examined the tome closely. Just because Apocrypha contained a nearly completely library of all of the knowledge in Tamriel, that didn't mean that it was by any means organized. However, this seemed to be the final tome that she was after.
"Have you come to trade me knowledge for knowledge?" Mora taunted her from a shadowed crevice.
"This is simple knowledge, easily accessible. Cheap, if you will. The knowledge I can offer is unique," she explained before holding up a copy of her journal that she'd written in since her time at Hogwarts. "In exchange for this, I would like access to some spell tomes. I'm attempting to teach a girl to use these spells."
"It will suffice only if you return the tomes, and in addition, give to me copies of your notes upon your entire journey in this world."
It definitely was not a good bargain by any means, but it wasn't as though she were taking outrageously long notes. It was a small hurdle, she reasoned. "I accept."
Xylia cradled the tome within her arms. It was a conjuration spell to summon a familiar, and was meant to only last approximately one minute. It was one of the easiest spells that one could learn.
She wandered the halls before hearing voices. She had forgotten about the Goblet already, it seemed. Dumbledore stood beside the gargantuan cup, and in a frantic tone, called out, "Harry Potter?"
The students exchanged harsh whispers. Xylia slunk into the room, trying her hardest to not draw attention to herself.
Hermione pushed Harry out of his seat towards the center of the room. Xylia slipped into the empty seat. "What's going on?" she asked the both of them in a low voice.
"Harry's been chosen to compete in the tournament," Hermione explained.
"Looks like my own best friend has been keeping secrets," Ron said maliciously.
Xylia looked between Ron and Harry. "Are you blind?" she asked him. There was a few moments of silence between them in which Ron gifted Xylia with a nasty look. "Look as his posture. He's defensive, unsure. Most importantly, he's scared. He most definitely doesn't want to be in that position, and you think he was keeping this from you?"
Ron turned away from her, absolutely unwilling to listen to reason.
Ignoring the situation, Xylia handed off the tome to Hermione. "I realize that this isn't quite the time, but I managed to get my hands on this," she explained.
Hermione looked between the book and the situation at hand. "Uh-right. Thank you," she said, unsure of how she was supposed to react.
"You should be able to learn by yourself, but if you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask," Xylia finished, lightly tapping the book before letting go of it.
"Alright, off to bed with you all," Dumbledore announced to them once Harry had left the room.
The students begrudgingly got up. What once sounded like a fun, exciting evening had soon turned somber and angry. "A fraud, he is. He's only fourteen," Xylia heard someone comment.
Xylia smiled at Hermione as she stood up. "Best be off then," she said before taking off once more.
She could feel it in her bones. The spine-tingling feeling of something within her, something feral and angry. It had consumed her since the first soul she'd absorbed into her body, changing her into something more and more ferocious. Her shoulders hunched just slightly and her fingers curled. She gritted her teeth.
"Are you alright, Xylia?" McGonagall asked as she placed a hand on her arm. Xylia gasped ever so slightly for air. Her food, nearly finished, was left abandoned. Even Harry had noticed the visceral reaction she was having. He tapped Hermione on the shoulder and pointed up to her. Ron didn't seem to be present.
"There are dragons nearby," she hissed to the older lady.
McGonagall pulled Xylia to her feet and pulled her out of the room. The older woman's touch was warm, and brought her back to reality. A few more deep breaths, and she felt far more calm. It had been a long time since she'd felt a dragon. "They're here for the Triwizard Tournament. Have you forgotten? No…no you were never told, I suppose. Are you alright?"
Xylia nodded. "I'm alright, I'm fine. Thank you."
"I suspect if we had known it would affect you, we would have told you," the woman explained. "But we are trying to keep it a secret from the students."
The elf waved her hand. "No, no. It's alright. I'm fine."
McGonagall let her go. "Good, good. Right then, I suspect it might do you well to get some rest, yes?"
Xylia agreed and parted ways with the older woman. However, once the woman wasn't watching her anymore, she slipped away and headed outside. There was a feeling inside of her, like a natural compass, that told her exactly where she needed to go. The instinct within her was bloodthirsty. She grabbed Auriel's Bow off her back and massaged her fingers on it. The ornate bow was sturdy, good for calming her nerves.
She wandered into the forest, using the veil of night to hide herself. The shadows of the trees ensnared her into their grasp, holding her in their webs. She sunk into them, becoming one with them.
Eventually, she came across what she desired. Four cages, each holding a separate dragon, were placed in the middle of the forest. The dragons, quite angry, bellowed fire towards their captors. A rage built up inside of Xylia, a byproduct of being so close to the beasts. She absorbed their emotion and felt it within herself. Their cages were far too small, their oppression too extreme.
She stepped towards them, bow in hand, unsure of who she should be aiming at. "Whoa, you can't be here," someone said as they blocked her path. She blinked her eyes, refocusing on what was in front of her.
"You must be Xylia. The…dragon born woman, yes?" another man asked her, this one with red hair. Xylia assumed he must be a Weasley.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be here," she said, turning around.
"Wait," he caught her arm. "Could you help us? They're riled up from travelling. Dumbledore said you can…speak a dragon language?"
Xylia glanced between the man and the dragons. "I'm sorry. I was born to kill dragons, not to tame them. I'm afraid I'd only make it worse."
The man let go. "Oh, alright then. Well, I'm Charlie Weasley. Let me know if you change your mind. They'll be here all night, at least until the First Task begins."
Xylia headed back up to the castle. She would need a long night's rest to properly prepare herself for this task.
Xylia fiddled in her seat, nestled amongst the other professors and officials. An arena was prepared specifically for this task, a mess of rocks that deeply reminded her of the mountains that littered Skyrim.
Eventually, a dragon was brought out and shackled to the rocks. McGonagall placed her hand on Xylia's, noticing her obvious discomfort. "Are you alright?"
The elf bit her lip. She was getting tired of people asking her that question. "I'm quite alright," she answered.
The dragon suddenly turned to stare up towards the professors. Xylia made eye contact with it, and suddenly felt a connection to it. The beast took a step towards her, but was soon distracted by the sound of a cannon shot. Out from a cropping of rocks came one of the champions. It looked like Fleur, from Beauxbatons. Soon enough, she managed to get the egg away from the dragon. Xylia didn't quite enjoy the idea of children going against dragons, but nothing about this school made sense to her.
The champions came out one by one, each fighting their respective dragon. Or, more so, evading it. She thought it would be much more time effective if the champions all used a single dragon, but she did suppose that it would be stressful for the dragon to face all four of them.
The last dragon, Harry's dragon, seemed to be the worst of the bunch. "It's a Hungarian Horntail," Hagrid explained to her upon seeing her expression. "Nasty dragon, that one."
This dragon, too, turned towards her. The professors around her uncomfortably shuffled in their seats. The other dragons were curious about her, but this one seemed absolutely furious. Just as the other dragons were distracted, as soon as Harry stepped out from the cropping, the dragon spewed fire at him.
"What an awful task for a child to complete," Xylia muttered. "Especially with a dragon so volatile."
Harry was hiding behind a few rocks, protecting him from the blast of flame. "Your wand, Harry!" Xylia could hear Hermione shout from one of the student stands. The poor boy didn't even want to compete. Xylia could only imagine the trauma.
A broom suddenly came down on the field, and Harry jumped on it to avoid yet another blast of fire. The other three dragons weren't anywhere near being so violent.
Harry flew directly towards them. In the dragon's attempt to follow him, the chain limiting the beast broke. A few gasps came from the crowd, especially as Harry zoomed through their stand. Once Harry flew over Xylia's head, her body forced her to her feet to intercept the dragon coming straight at her. "Joor Vah Frul!" she shouted at the dragon.
The dragon's flight came to a sudden halt, and the crowd went silent. With a mighty swoop of its wings, the dragon steadied itself before landing on the edge of the stands. With pure anger in its eyes, it brought its head towards Xylia. "Doh…vah…kiin…" it managed to say, although it seemed as though the dragon had never used its voice.
"Gol Hah Dov," she then commanded. The dragon went rigid before turning back to the field. In the confusion, Harry whipped around on his broom and snatched the egg. The dragon sneered at him, but was otherwise incapable of harming the boy under the effect of Xylia's shout.
Once Harry had the egg, the crowd erupted into confused applause. They were curious, definitely, about Xylia's ability. She realized then that this was the first time that the whole student body had seen her Voice. The odd student here and there had seen it, but she now felt embarrassed about it. Her cheeks flared red as she sunk back into her seat. Most of the other professors were standing in applause, but McGonagall sat beside her. Another woman came towards her, but she had a frantic, bizarre look in her eyes. Half moon glasses were perched on her nose, and a quill and piece of parchment floated besides her.
The woman extended her hand. "I'd be very interested in having an interview with you," she said with a sickly grin.