"Elf woman controls dragons at Hogwarts?" Harry read the front page of the Daily Prophet. He was happy that it wasn't about him, for once, but he suspected that it wasn't accurate at all.
"What is that?" Xylia asked, looking at the paper. She wasn't really supposed to be in the Gryffindor common area, but none of the other students seemed to mind. After being at the castle for about a year, they seemed to be a lot more used to her presence.
"The newspaper?" Ron asked, bewildered.
"Yes, what is this…newspaper?"
"You don't have any newspapers in Skyrim?" Hermione asked. "Certainly you're joking."
Xylia shook her head. "No, I'm not."
Harry couldn't help but laugh a little. Ron looked over at him, perhaps not sure if he was allowed to enjoy the moment, but soon enough let out a chuckle of his own. Hermione shot them both glares, but couldn't wipe the smiles on their faces. It was nice for Xylia to see that they'd ended their little squabble, even if it could have been easily avoided.
Hermione turned back to the elf. "It's a paper that people can purchase which talks about recent events."
Xylia furrowed her brows. "Is word of mouth not good enough?"
Hermione smiled. "It's so that what you hear is unbiased, and it highlights events you might have otherwise not heard about. Of course, this paper isn't very trustworthy."
Xylia cocked her head. "If it is untrustworthy, then what is the point of it?"
"I agree," Harry mumbled.
"Rita has exaggerated a lot about Harry so far," Hermione explained. "I'm sure she did the same for you," she finished, then handing off the paper into Xylia's hands.
As they had stated, the headline at the top of the paper read "Elf Woman Controls Dragons at Hogwarts" Underneath, there was a moving picture of her standing up and commanding the dragon. She had to admit, it was a flattering image at least.
"After losing her home and family," she started to read aloud "the elf Xylia has found herself a new home at Hogwarts. A formidable opponent, she was born to command dragons, which is why she was present during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. After losing her family to dragons, this is the one thing that she has left to do."
Xylia tilted her head as she looked at the kids. "I don't understand. This isn't true at all. My family is very much alive, and I was very clear that I was born to kill dragons."
"Yeah, but that's not what she thinks that people will want to hear," Ron said.
"She's been making up the same sad stories about me," Harry admitted.
Xylia set the paper back down on the table and shrugged. "I suppose it doesn't really matter what other people think. I serve not them."
The kids looked at her strangely due to her cryptic wording. "Who do you serve?" Hermione asked, although she already has an inkling of the daedric prince that he saw.
Xylia smiled at her. "I'm sure you would be much happier without having that information."
The trio nodded at her; Harry more than understood what she meant. Although he had explained exactly what he saw to his two friends last year, he was sure that they could never quite comprehend the fear of witnessing such a being.
The elf then stretched. "I will now be off to bed. I'm afraid that my sudden popularity amongst students has been quite draining."
She'd been there for almost a year, which was definitely cause for her to gain familiarity with the students. Very few, however, had seen her use any semblance of her power. Seeing her speak and command that dragon made her popular amongst the curious students.
"Good night," she said with a tired grin on her face before sauntering out of the common room.
It was just cold enough that she felt comfort from the small flame in her fingers. The silken gown she wore seemed foreign on her. Skyrim didn't know materials like that. She was used to heavy wools and cottons that kept her warm, or heavy leathers and metals for armor. Beyond that, she was further convinced that she should leave Dawnbreaker and Auriel's Bow in her room in a safe. Begrudgingly, she agreed.
It was then that McGonagall gave her the thin, silvery gown. The older woman even helped her dress herself. A deep blush tinted her cheeks when she realized how incapable she was. An older lady helping her seemed almost like an insult.
"I'm sorry," she'd told the woman.
"For what, dear?" she asked her, more concentrated on straightening the dress.
"My incompetence," she mumbled. "I've never a worn such a strange garment."
The older woman grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her in her eyes. "Now, that's nothing to worry about. You're a stunning woman. Let's do something about this hair."
Xylia had never scrubbed her head so hard before. Old pieces of dirt turned the bath water a murky brown color. Afterwards, however, she'd never felt her hair so soft. She didn't even know that her hair was capable of being so soft, or that it was a much lighter color than it seemed. When she looked into the mirror, her skin boasted a more ivory complexion. She wasn't sure if she liked it or not. Certainly, her threatening nature had been dimmed.
McGonagall had arranged her hair with a braid circling her head, while the rest of her golden hair fell in soft waves down her back. Her sharp ears protruded over the braids.
She felt terrible as the wind blew through her hair, certainly loosing some of the appeal of the style. While she stood just outside of the castle, she managed to find a picturesque view of the lake below. The Durmstrang ship sat upon frozen waves. She wished that she could save the moment forever, like those strange moving pictures she saw in the newspaper.
"Aren't you cold?" a voice asked.
Xylia clasped her fingers shut, snuffing out the small flame. Dumbledore wrapped something around her shoulders. "Thank you," she said softly to the old wizard.
He placed his hand on her shoulder blade and led her back to the castle. "What business do you have out in the cold?" he asked, his voice warm and welcoming. He must have used his compelling nature to his advantage.
The corners of her lips barely moved upwards. "Just a beautiful view."
"Yes, Hogwarts is magnificent. I frequently find myself lost in the scenery," he added.
Once they stepped across the threshold, full heat enveloped her body. Her limbs relaxed. If she were in her regular armor, she would not have felt the cold in the same way. "I suggest you don't miss the rest of the dance," Dumbledore said to her in a low tone, taking back the shawl he'd placed on her outside.
Yes, now Xylia could see what his goal was. He didn't want to let her out of his sight. While most of the professors had been lax for the year, there were probably messages coming from parents about the strange elf in the newspaper. Harry warned her that something like that might happen.
The two of them walked into the Great Hall side by side. Dumbledore quickly left her, but she could feel the eyes on her. Most of the students were absorbed in the dance, but the professors would have been watching her. She found herself a seat on the edge of the room. Just like how Dumbledore had his agenda, she had one of her own. Across the room, she spotted him. Severus Snape. According to rumors floating around some of the students, that's who she needed to follow.
A full moon hung in the otherwise pitch black sky. Through the darkness, splotches of light proved that the universe was not barren. Those stars twinkled as Xylia observed them, although that was likely a trick of her eyes, just like the white color that they boasted. In reality, she knew that the stars were colored various shades of red and blue.
Hogwarts stood tall behind her. In it, she hoped, the students and professors would be soundly sleeping. Someone else must have been up, too, but she assumed that they wouldn't notice what she was up to.
In front of her stood one of the many empty patches of grass on the Hogwarts grounds. This particular spot caught her attention for two reasons. One, it was further away from the castle than many of the others. Two, it was decently flat.
Although she was sure that she would have noticed if someone had followed her, she looked about her to spot any misplaced students. When she felt comfortable, she cleared her throat. "Dur Neh Viir!" she shouted at the ground. Instantly, a ring of purple flame materialized before her. In the middle of it, a beast was born.
"This land…it is neither of the Cairn nor of Tamriel," Durnehviir commented upon his materialization.
"No. It is on a separate plane of existence," she explained to the dead dragon.
"And yet we are both here. I will not ask many questions, Dovahkiin. I only ask that you explain why you have summoned me."
"Simply out of curiosity. I was unsure if you were capable of being in this realm. If you wish to take to the skies, I only ask that you take care to not alert any being to your presence."
There was a silence as Durnehviir looked about him. "If you need me, you know you only need to call," he said before spreading his massive wings. With only one strong flap, the dragon shot into the air. Xylia's hair, still retaining some of the softness from the few days previous, blew back from her face. The first time that a dragon had taken to the air in front of her, she was blown onto her ass. Now, she knew the prepare for the massive gust of wind that came from the wings.
Heeding her request, Durnehviir silently flew overhead. Although she only said that it was an experiment, she was happy to see a familiar face. She'd been at Hogwarts for close to a year, and she was starting to feel homesick for Skyrim. She didn't think she'd ever feel that way about the land, but there she found herself pining for the cold weather and the bastards she called her friends. She thought of her husband and her children. While she wasn't always home often, certainly they would know that something was wrong by now.
She shook the thought from her head. First, she would need to find the wizard that Mora asked her to. While he was well aware of her predicament, he would likely start hounding her for information. Still, it was a beautiful sight to see the dragon soaring overhead, back home among the burning stars.
"Would a water breathing potion not have been easier?" she asked the cold-hearted professor as she looked down upon the freezing water. It must not have even been five minutes before she spoke to him.
He looked at her suspiciously. She'd had no previous interest in the man, besides for his inhumane treatment towards children. Now he must have started to see how strange she was acting. "Mmm," he mumbled, refraining from giving her a full answer.
"I suppose Harry's Gillyweed did give him a nice set of fins," she commented further. "Viktor's shark head approach is…strange, but acceptable. Perhaps it is Fleur and Cedric who are at a disadvantage."
"You've thought deeply about this," he said to her in a low drawl. Perhaps a threat. She pretended that she couldn't read him.
"I've nearly drowned more times than I'd like to count. The amount of times I could have been saved simply by having a water breathing potion is equal to that amount."
"I didn't think you were acclimated to potion-making."
"Well, I'm no fool. I know how to throw a few things together. Nothing terribly advanced, but I know enough."
"I hope you don't think that you can impress me with your meager potion-making abilities and interests."
Xylia smirked. Having him respond to her was a step in the right direction. "No, I simply thought I would get an expert opinion on the matter. I believe that a water breathing potion would be easy, but if you disagree, I'm happy to entertain that."
Snape's nostrils flared. "Just because it would be one of the better solutions doesn't mean these students have the intelligence to see that. A water breathing potion seems far too time consuming compared to any of the spells or plants that these students used."
Xylia laid off her interrogation. She needed to get closer to him, to see if he was really someone that was capable of giving her useful information. Thus far, she had reason to get close to the man.
Shortly after, the student's heads started to surface. With a large smile, she cheered on the students.
"Xylia!" someone shouted her name. The elf spun on her heels in the crowded hallway to spot one bushy haired girl running towards her. Although she was running, she didn't seem out of breath or anything.
She tilted her head slightly. "Hermione, what's wrong?"
The students around them gave them a wide gait. "Nothing, I just wanted to say I've got it. The familiar spell you gave me."
A look of confusion crossed Xylia's face before she remembered the tome she'd acquired for the girl. "Oh. Oh!"
Hermione stepped back, then held out her hand. In her palm was a familiar ball of purple energy. The girl seemed incredibly tense, concentrating hard on the magic in her hand. A few students stopped to watch in awe.
The girl then released the spell in front of her, summoning a ghostly looking wolf. All familiars took that form. "It doesn't last long, though," Hermione said.
Xylia shook her head, smiling at the familiar. "No, it's not meant to. I gave you a very simple version of the spell. Are you weak? Surely that took a lot of Magika out of you."
Hermione breathed out, and her shoulders dropped slightly. "Is that what that is?"
Xylia couldn't help the large grin on her face. "Well done! Perhaps you could try the spell through your wand, next time. It acts as a nice conduit for the magic, and it won't take it out of you. If you like using wandless magic, however, then you might want to work on stockpiling your Magika in your body."
"Like a muscle?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, exactly. You can train yourself and work up to harder spells."
Hermione beamed up at her. "Thank you! I'll keep working on it!"
Snape's muscles tensed as he closed the door to the storage room. Xylia had stood behind it, silently, waiting for the chance to confront the professor.
"Yes?" he sneered at her, already annoyed.
"I'd wanted to ask you something personal. Something, perhaps, that has to do with the tattoo on your arm?"
Ever so quickly, he shoved her into the closet. She stumbled, but took care not to disturb any of the glass bottles lining the shelf. "What do you know about it?" he seethed at her, hissing between his teeth.
"I know you've worked for the one I'm looking for. The one that you are afraid to call by name."
"What do you know of it?"
"I want information. My mission in this world is not, as many might think, to work with children. You know this."
There was a heavy silence as they stared at one another. Her fingers itched to grab Dawnbreaker, but she didn't want to cause an altercation, either. "You listened to the students, made them feel comfortable with you. When you were questioned, you threatened them with violence."
Xylia's face was level. "Do you feel threatened by me, Snape?"
"No, I don't."
"You should."
Another silence. Perhaps that flicker behind his eyes was rage. Maybe it was fear.
"Where can I find him?"
"Does your prince not have all of your answers? Disturb me no more. I will not be bullied by the likes of you. Not here."
He opened the door to the closet, then gestured for her to leave. She clenched her fists, then obliged by his command.
She looked back, then made eye contact with him again. His nostrils flared as he locked the door, still maintaining eye contact, then walked away.
Alone in the hallway, she sighed. However, looking up, she saw Professor Moody at the other end of the hall, looking at her. When she saw him, he turned and walked away, too. At the very least, she had her next lead.
Hermione stared in awe at the atronach she conjured. While mundane compared to a few of the things that Xylia could summon, she was nonetheless impressed by the rate in which she had learned some of the more complicated spells.
"You aren't wearing yourself out, are you?" Xylia asked her once the flame atronach crumbled to ash, then disappeared completely.
Hermione took a deep breath, then exhaled. "I don't know. It's definitely a lot to keep up with."
"You need to stockpile, but you can't be using it so often that you're tiring yourself out. I don't know what might happen to you; you aren't from the same realm as me, anyway. This might have negative effects."
Hermione nodded. They were in the Gryffindor common room, one of their favorite places to meet. The moon shone brightly through the window. Wherever he was, Xylia hoped that Lupin was doing alright.
Xylia was more casual that night. She left Dawnbreaker and Auriel's Bow in her quarters but brought a small dagger with her. She was never completely defenseless, but she felt bare without any form of physical weaponry on her person.
She placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder, then forced her down onto the couch. The girl was unable to combat her. Without complaint, she sunk into the couch. "The tournament ends tomorrow, yes? You should get some rest. You'll need to be there for Harry, won't you?"
Hermione smiled up at her. It hurt her then, suddenly, that the girl trusted her so much. While she had no intention of hurting the girl, she hated that she had put up a façade. Would any of them trust her if they knew who she really was?
"I'm off, then. Have a good night, Hermione."
"Good night," she said, then yawned.
As eloquently as she could, she exited the common room. The hallways were dark and vast. The portraits on the wall, who were usually interacting with passersby, were in their own slumber.
Xylia herself yawned. This school year was almost over. That meant that Xylia had been in the castle for over a year, and yet she had gotten nowhere. Her attempt to get information from Snape was a failure, and she had the feeling that Dumbledore wasn't going to be much help, either.
As she went to take a step, everything went dark.