Author's Notes: Whew, now that's a chapter! I wasn't really sure where to stop it but felt that where I did might leave people hungry enough for more. So, I understand that people have questions, they want to know things and as a writer I want to tell you things... but I find myself biting my lip. I have to bite my lip in the Author's Notes because its a spoiler! Would you finish the series if you knew what was going to happen? It does tell me though that you people are dug in, your interested, you are hungry to know more and THAT is a feeling I love! Now, I can go back and explain things and scenes. Hermione's scene last chapter was just me really giving out the time frame that this story will take place. I wanted it done by the Yule Ball, and in all rights I have that power, but in case this story feels like it takes longer than a month, I gave myself and Harry, 3 to finish it. It also explained what the people at Hogwarts can and cannot see, that being the Daedric Princes.
Also to the person who said that Harry is cheating in Skyrim... yes he is. Sirius/Clavicus and Remus/Hircine don't give a shit about the tournament, neither does Harry. They care about Harry and getting him through it. If that means reworking Skyrim to give him the absolute Advantage then that is what they are going to do.
Now enough of me blabbing, you want story!
The young adventurer sat up from his hay filled bed as the sun began to rise over the continent of Tamriel. His black hair dangling around his face and ears as he grunted and pushed himself up. Last night had been his first night sleeping in a bed since he had arrived in this medieval world and though it wasn't his four poster bed at Hogwarts he couldn't describe how good it felt to sleep above the rocks and dirt again. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he winced as he felt the chill emanating from the cold stone of his new bedroom, but quickly pushed that down in order to start getting ready for the day.
He crossed his bed chambers with little difficulty and made his way into his bathing room. Like everything in the castle it was too high brow for his tastes and well over the top. A rune set high on the wall poured out water into a large square hole on the ground which was heated by several more runes before rushing out a drain that lead to a small room where another rune vanished the conjured water, but to where Harry didn't know.
He felt the water's warmth sink into his skin and battle the frigid weather of Skyrim and released a happy sigh. Not only was he warm for once but he was alone and it gave him ample time to think about what had been going on since his arrival in this seemingly game world. It was fitting that he received a visit from the Mad God yesterday because his life had certainly spiraled in that direction since the Tournament, no, since his life as a student at Hogwarts began.
Skyrim was oddly freeing for the youth and he felt himself frown at such a thought. He had always considered Hogwarts to be home it was where he belonged but it was only the second real place he had ever known. Anything compared to the Dursley residence was a dream come true but his problems had gone from chores and a cupboard for a bedroom to a mad man trying to kill him and bring genocide on a world scale. Was Hogwarts that much better than his old home? Sure people liked him better, sometimes, but that was because they wanted a hero and a savior.
Staring at his hand he conjured his sword and stared at the glowing conjuration of magic. He wasn't a hero anymore or at least not the kind that the people back home wanted him to be. He had killed people, sure they were bandits, but clashed heavily with what people thought of the Boy-Who-Lived. They put him on a pedestal and he couldn't deviate from it and show his talents without them lashing out at him. So what if he could speak to snakes? Now he could speak to dragons and use their powers for his own. What if snakes had powers and he hadn't bothered to learn them due to his fear of rejection?
Well now he had been rejected anyway. Someone had put his name in the Goblet of Fire and he was forced to compete in a tournament meant for people who were several years his senior. Even Ron had turned on him and lashed out claiming he was a liar and a cheater. Now, standing on the outside and literal worlds away from the problem, his green eyes narrowed at the thought of his former friend. Ron's attitude and decisions were similar to another boy at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy. The two were practically identical when you got beneath the skin but he had never seen it before because he was to blinded by the thought of losing his friend.
He frowned as he realized he had lost track of thought. Something was keeping him from thinking about the lives he took on the way to Bleak Falls Barrow and it was something he should be feeling remorse for. But he didn't. He had killed those men and women with a bow and arrow, accidentally stabbed a man in the neck even if they were fighting to the death, and he felt nothing. No rage, no sorrow, he had killed them just as he had killed the dragon on the road and consumed his soul and he felt nothing for it. Dear Gods he was becoming Tom Riddle! No, no, he wasn't becoming Riddle, Riddle killed without discretion and most of the time sent his minions to kill for him. Other than the bow and arrow, he had looked his opponents in the eyes when they died.
When he came across Hircine or Clavicus Vile he would have to ask them about that. His mind just couldn't put those pieces together to come to a conclusion. Maybe philosophy wasn't his strongest point and he would just need to confess to a priest or priestess about his feelings. That's what some religious people did didn't they? Come to that, was he religious? His godfather and uncle were immortal, all seeing and all powerful demon lords from another world. He knew the Daedra of this world existed but it raised many ideas about just what existed back home in his world. Maybe he would take a Sunday to go to church and see what he thought about the Abraham's God.
For all he knew Olympus, Asgard and all the pantheons of his forefathers still existed. Now that would be something to see about. If he was the Dragonborn, maybe he could one day meet these beings and see them with his own eyes. With a sigh, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, letting his mind wander.
'Too far! Too far,' the wizard shouted in his mind as he found himself hovering over the world and ringed by constellations. He loved to fly but the weightlessness of astral traveling was unnerving. From seemingly everywhere at once he heard the chanting in the dragon's tongue and sighed. He had forgotten that while to many this world was as real as the one outside his window in Surrey, he had come from through thanks to a computer game and bit his lip. He hadn't been here since that first night of sparring practice with Tamaria and he hadn't particularly felt any need to rush his 'leveling' but it seemed it happened whether he was paying attention or not.
Last time he had selected stamina for his increase and this time he chose health. Something seared through his body and made him almost cry out in pain. It felt like his whole body was on fire for a long moment before it stopped as quickly as it had begun. He breathed for a long minute before taking stock of what he felt. He felt hungry, which he supposed was normal for a early morning, but things were different. He was only marginally disconnected from his body but even here he could feel the general aches and pains fleeing. He felt rejuvenated in a way he hadn't before, even after staying with Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing.
Next he needed to find a 'perk' he liked. He had put points into one handed before but he was learning conjuration for magic at the moment. He wanted to put a point in it but there were other things he knew he needed to learn and he spun around to look at them all. Alchemy stood out, he had plenty of ingredients to use and learn from. Then there was smithing and the thought of making his own armor and weapons was appealing. Lockpicking would come in handy but thanks to his magic he already knew the unlocking charm but he needed a wand. A WAND! Turning quickly he looked through the constellations until he found it and frowned. Enchanting wasn't going to help him make a wand while it could make his weapons and armor stronger, he would have to find another way to get his Holly wand back in his hands.
Sighing, he spun back around to Smithing and clicked on Iron. He was all set to climb out of the tub before he heard it ringing in his ears. The chanting was still going and he would need to go back. Grunting he closed his eyes and let his spirit return to the plane where the stars live. Again he was met with the choice of Magic, Health and Stamina and groaned. He hadn't been paying attention to how many times he leveled up and it looks like he would have to do this for every single time. With a twitch in his green eyes he picked magic felt something swell in his chest. Well it was time to begin picking a new perk...
Harry walked through the halls of his new castle glad that he had loose robes that fit him easily. He had leveled roughly ten times and had split the difference between magic, health and stamina and now was bulkier than he had ever been in his life. His round glasses had been left next to his bed as his eyesight seemed to have been fixed by selecting health, and damn it if he wasn't taller now too. He didn't even know if his armor that Sirius gave him would still fit.
Sjel Blad was almost monstrous in size. If it wasn't for the orbs of transportation he would have been lost walking around in the labyrinth he now seemed to own. He didn't dare ask the yellow and black clad daedra for help in getting around. He didn't need a marauder learning that he got lost in his own house, he would be made fun of for sure. Who knew what sort of pranks the Daedric Princes could pull off now that they were at full power. The mere thought made a shiver rush down his spine.
Finally though he managed to emerge into the courtyard that also doubled for what seemed to be the ancient throne room and frowned. This throne was different from the one he had seen in Jarl Balgruuf's Dragonsreach which had simply been a chair. Someone had obviously spent time painstakingly creating a throne for him made of the same dark metal as Tamaria's sword, but fashioned into it were the bones of Mirmulnir, his head looming over the back with his wings outstretched. His arms formed the armrests and his claw tipped feet served as the throne's front legs. The dragon's tail swooped down onto the floor and curved to the right of the throne and down the steps leading up to the seat of power.
Banner's hung on the walls of the courtyard, and Harry assumed they flew in other places as well and while he expected the horse of Whiterun, he felt oddly uncomfortable by the black streaks of cloth that flew overhead. The image of a dragon's skull in all white flapped in the breeze, but behind the dragon was a marking that Harry didn't know. A triangle encompassing a circle and bisected by a line in bronze was stitched in behind the dragon's skull and for some reason, the green eyed wizard felt as though he should know it.
Moving from the dark appearance of the castle, Harry moved to take the throne his godfather had given him and carefully sat upon the black throne of bones. He felt something stirring deep inside but squashed it down quickly. It seemed his world of adventure was going to be dashed to pieces as he sat upon a throne in a courtyard talking to people about their problems.
"Hey you," the call of Serana had the boy wizard looking up toward the main doors. They were huge, standing nearly thirty feet tall, but luckily a smaller door was set inside the left door so people could come and go more easily. "There are a number of people here to see you, should I show them in," the vampire asked with a smirk.
The wizard groaned. It had become obvious that the two female vampires were going to make his life a living hell thanks to Molag Bal. He didn't even know the Daedric Prince all that well but the two women seemed to detest him for the fact that the Father of Vampires had put them under his control and did they didn't pull their feelings back for him. They let him know they detested him and the castle and would probably rather see him dead then serve him on the creator's behalf.
"Yes please, Serana," the teen said as kindly as he could toward the vampire who merely snarled and pulled her head back out the door. He frowned after her and wondered why he had not just let her and the other vampire go out of his service. It was as if he was being compelled to keep them close by some outside force. He quickly schooled his features as the main doors swung open and a group of men and women marched into his throne room dressed in armor with adorned with wolves.
At the head of the group was man with white hair and a beard who carried himself with a strength that only came from having bested ones enemies in combat and living a strong and hard life. A tattoo covered his right cheek and made him look even harder than without it. However his ice like blue eyes did not hold the conviction his body held. A deep sadness radiated from those eyes and Harry felt the poor man needed a hug or something generally uplifting to come about for him.
Behind the white haired man was a bald figure who stood nearly a head taller than the man in front. He had two red lines on his cheeks and was clean shaven. He had a whited left eye showing his blindness on his left side but still appeared a man one didn't want to mess with. He looked pissed and there was no other way to describe him. He kept sniffing the air as if looking for something before his dark eye fell on the wizard and narrowed in unrestrained rage.
After his eyes fell on the third person he stopped paying attention to the others coming through the door. Her red hair was just as he remembered and her blue eyes ghosted over him though she showed no emotion at seeing him. The sight of Aela nearly made his heart burst with glee and oddly the pants he wore under his black mages robe grew surprisingly tight as his mind flashed to the morning after she had shown him her wolf form. Still, if she would show nothing to his presence, he could do the same and returned to looking at the man who lead her into his castle.
"Greetings, I am Thane Harry Potter, Lord of Sjel Blad and Hamvir's Rest," he said to the older man with a slight nod of his head. His nose twitched as something penetrated his sense of smell. The old man was an Alpha something deep inside him registered. He knew the others in the group were subservient to him, whether he wanted it or not, they took his word as law. The wizard tilted his head as something else seemed to click deep inside. The smell of something tainted rolled off the whole group and if Aela was a werewolf and the old man was an Alpha, then that meant they were Hircine's Hounds, the Companions, their course forever altered by the dark magics lingering in their blood.
"I am Kodlak Whitemane, Harbinger of the Companions," the old man said with a strange gleam in his eye as he looked at the young man sitting on the throne of dragon's bones. "We have traveled from Jorrvaskr in Whiterun with a request to make of you and your town. However," he stopped to chuckle for a second, "we didn't realize your town was full of our wolf siblings, vampires and daedra already. Still, we would ask for a moment to speak with you, Thane of Whiterun."
Harry blinked as the man spoke. They were already talking so why ask for permission for his time? He had already consented to talk to them and this was just wasting time. "Go ahead, Whitemane, ask me and if it is within my power I will see to that your request is fulfilled."
"Excellent, excellent," the old man said with a smile as he looked behind him. Th one eyed man seemed unable to stop glaring at Harry while the redhead continued to act as though nothing was going on at all, though she did look at Kodlak strangely. "My time in this world is short Lord Potter and the Companions have been growing. I am going to be leaving the Companions soon to look for a cure for my blood. While many of the cubs would like nothing more than to hunt with their lord, I want to go to Sovngarde when I pass on. Before I go, I wish to know if it is possible for the Companions who wish it, to set up a Hall in your fair town?"
The black haired teen looked at the white haired man and shrugged. "I don't see why having a branch of the Companions in Hamvir's Rest should be a problem," he stated fairly. "However, I do have a rule or two for them. If you build a Hall in Hamvir's Rest then those of all bloods shall be eligible for joining your Branch of the Companions. Vampires, Daedra and mortals alike should be able to join as your Shield-Siblings without bias. As long as they wish to join and have a strong arm and a fire burning inside them to fight, they should be welcome," he said. "Second, the powers of Hamvir's Rest will have some say into how the town operates. One of your number will need to be chosen to stand by my side and speak for the Companions in this very hall."
"Your requests are fair," Kodlak said with a smile as he turned to his people. "Those of you who wish to start a new life in Hamvir's Rest are free to do so. You will quest to raise the money for a new Hall to be constructed and you will name it accordingly. This will be my last act as Harbinger for the Companions," he said with a sad smile. From behind Aela and the bald man two men stepped forward smelling of similar blood to the wizard and moved to stand beside their leader. "Farkas and Vilkus have agreed to come with me in search of a cure. Any others who wish to be free of the wolf's blood are free to accompany us."
Harry watched as the men and women of Jorrvaskr spoke among themselves and tried not to pay attention as Aela and the one eyed man stood off to the side seemingly arguing over something. The rest seemed to be splitting down the middle, with a few moving to the left side of the courtyard and the rest going to the right, including the two arguing werewolves. The redheaded woman seemed to be smirking as the half-blind man continued to scowl.
"So be it," Kodlak continued after nearly thirty minutes of hushed conversation. Harry had grown bored and had begun to inspect his nails as the group talked in front of him. "I name Athis as the Harbinger of Jorrvaskr," the white haired man stated with a smile toward the dark elf who looked the ground sheepishly. "I also name Aela, Harbinger of the Companions of Hamvir's Rest as this was her idea," he said with a smirk as the woman's blue eyes opened wide in surprise. "I will take my leave now."
"Kodlak Whitemane," Harry spoke up suddenly, seemingly reminding everyone of just whose castle they were in. "If you want a cure, find a shrine to Hircine," he said causing many to gasp at the thought that he knew a cure. "Speak to the Daedric Prince of the hunt and use these words," he said with a smirk. "'Mooney, the son of Prongs asks that you release us from the wolf spirit'. The old goat should listen," he said with a smile.
The man with the scarred eye growled at him. "This is no laughing matter, boy," the bald man growled. Behind him Aela said his name trying to calm him but he ignored her. "Hircine would never listen to such a statement and there is no need for a cure," he snarled at the former Harbinger. "I'm a wolf and proud of it and I will show you that we need no lord," he finished before the dark aura began to bleed from his body.
Harry stood from his throne a snarl pulling at his lips. This man, Skjor, not only insulted the alpha of his pack but also insulted Harry in his own house. He felt something roar in his chest as black smoke began to blur his vision. He felt something clawing to the surface the same thing that felt insulted by the impudent man's comments. He felt his bones crack and pop as they grew longer, his face grew deformed and the beast that lurked deep within the neglected little boy from Privet Drive appeared in the Throne Room of Sjel Blad Castle.
From the black mist that allowed the transformation glowing green eyes locked on the emerging werewolf. A clawed paw stepped through the mist and smashed down onto the stones beneath the form revealing reptilian scales. The mist parted as a pair of eviscerated wings cut through the air, the black membrane between the scaled bones tattered and hanging. A clawed hand a strange mismatch of fur and scale swiped at the air revealing an arm covered in long stringy black hair and filled with muscle upon muscle. A thick spiked tail slammed into the ground beside the throne causing the skeleton it was forged from to rattle.
Two sets of horns grew toward the back of the creature's head before turning and facing out in front of its face. A wolf's muzzle opened revealing a set of serrated teeth complete with a serpents forked tongue. The beast was massive standing nearly seven feet in height without counting the awe inspiring wings attached to his back. Black shaggy hair covered his head and fell like a mane around his neck and shoulders before continuing down his arms and back. Reptilian scales began at the throat and grew broader covering his chest and stomach stretching around his sides at the hips before a large tuft of hair emerged between the thins legs.
Harry threw back his head and released a howling roar that caused the banners over head to flutter. He turned his gaze back toward the older werewolf who was trembling at the sight of an Apex predator the likes it had never seen before. The solid emerald orbs took in the new body it had created and huffed at as it saw the tattered robes and clothing laying around his feet. Remembering why he had transformed though he growled at the werewolf who eyed the door with a look that said he wanted to be on the other side of it at that moment. "You disrespect your pack's alpha and me in my own throne room," the transformed wizard spoke in a strange hissing growl. "I should paint my throne with your blood wolf," the creature spoke through its maw.
The Daedra who stood around the room as guards did not move forward though they had their weapons drawn. The demons were staring at the new Lord in shock just as the humans and werewolves were. The sound of running feet soon echoed throughout the castle as men and women burst through the doors to protect their liege. Tamaria and Camilla both burst from the door leading to the stables and slid to a halt in shock at the creature that stood in front of the throne while Lydia, who had been having a bit of a lay in dropped her weapon entirely at the sight of the dragon-wolf monster.
"Forgive him, Harry," Aela spoke to him for the first time and moved to stand between the creature and Skjor. "Skjor is a good person but he sometimes lets his mouth get away from him," she pleaded. "He wanted us to remain one pack in Whiterun and assumed he would lead us when it came time for Kodlak to leave. The thought that you were blaspheming against our lord Hircine was to much for him though and he stupidly thought to show you what a Hound can do," the redhead said with a glare at the half blind wolf behind her.
Harry turned to the woman who had taken his virginity ready to argue the wolf's transgressions when one of the torches that stood beside the door to the courtyard flared well beyond the light it was meant to give off. A barking laugh filled the courtyard seemingly coming from every direction at once. "Oh, this is rich," an amused voice spoke from the torch which flared brighter with every word spoken. "One of Hircine's chosen has challenged a member of his pack. Old Mooney is quite upset," the voice of Clavicus Vile continued to speak. "However, he prides himself on young Skjor's attitude toward Lycanthrope and so he-"
"Shut up Padfoot," the voice of Hircine spoke cutting off the other Daedric Prince. "I was already in a bad mood before this and now I have a hound threatening my cub," the voice growled. "Luckily there is a much larger transgression that supersedes this little argument and I will use it to my advantage. Harry, Skjor, listen to me," the hunter demanded. "A manbeast by the name of Sinding has stolen one of my artifacts in an attempt to control the transformations I bestowed upon him. I gave him a chance to return to my favor hunting a white stag but he refused and is now imprisoned. You two will hunt the stag and whoever slays it will receive the chance to earn a gift beyond Lycanthropy."
"What about my duties as Lord of Sjel Blad," Harry asked his uncle in confusion. Why give him a castle and town full of people and then send him on a quest to hunt down a stag?
The flame dimmed for a second before flaring again. "We didn't really explain things admirably when we last met, Harry. Name a Steward who will run the castle and town in your absence and the responsibility will fall on them to see things run admirably," the Daedric Prince commanded. "Now, the rules for the hunt. You must hunt alone, no friends, no packs it will just be you and your opponent. If the stag is killed before either of you find it you will need to hunt the hunter who killed your prey! Now go," the voice demanded one last time before the torch burned down to cinders.
The wolf and dragon-wolf glared at each other before they were shrouded in black mist and returned to normal. Skjor smirked as he retained his wolf armor while the Lord appeared naked in the middle of his own court. The wizard blushed and covered his manhood with his hands as he saw everyone staring at him. "Look away you perverts," he demanded and watched as the daedra and companions did as he told. His friends, including Aela, seemed to ignore his demand.
He looked between the people he knew and bit his lip. "I'll need time to think about this. I'll name a steward after I get dressed," he said before rushing out the courtyard.
He was supposed to be finishing his Task and getting back to the real world which meant hunting a dragon not a stag. What was Mooney playing at?
Albus Dumbledore stared down at the seemingly innocent black case sitting in an abandoned classroom in the Hogwarts dungeons. He had known and pleaded that the tournament would cause chaos among the student body but he hadn't planned anything like this. First he had learned that the container holding the Champion's tasks had been broken into and one of them removed. Then three students had vanished from Hogwarts and they couldn't locate them.
It would unfortunately be his responsibility, as well as that of Professor Snape, to inform the Malfoys, Crabbes and Goyles of their children's disappearance. Well, at least they knew where the children were but the hows and why of it alluded him. Young Draco he knew was jealous of Harry's participation in the tournament, and had become severely enraged to learn the dark haired wizard called Dragonborn. The fourth year Slytherin seemed to be under the impression that since his name translated to dragon and he was of pureblood descent that he would make a better savior of Tamriel then Mr. Potter.
However, Draco was no where near skilled enough to break into his office, let alone chest that had been concealed and enchanted locked by the three Headmasters. He also didn't know the spell to enter the world or be able to use it on himself. He would need to floo call the families as soon as possible and pray that Harry found the wayward teens and kept them safe in a world as harsh and barbaric as Nirn.
There was also the problem with young Harry's transformation. While he could say it was a simple mechanic of the world Harry was currently in he knew it would cause problems. He was rather surprised Cornelius wasn't hounding him with owls about the whole thing, probably forged by his Undersecretary. There had been enough of an uproar when it was discovered the Boy-Who-Lived had been taken by a werewolf. The Daily Prophet, really Rita Skeeter, had called out for the redhead woman's head, not realizing she was in another world or just wanting to raise up anger. Now, Harry was Lord of a city filled with werewolves, vampires and demons.
The youngest Mr. Weasley was already beginning to call the fourteen year old boy a dark wizard. The mere concept of it made the wizened old wizard want to laugh at the concept. He had been alive for over a century and had met his share of dark wizards. While magic could be darker in nature it didn't make it evil, only the three Unforgivable Curses were evil in their very nature as they warped and twisted the caster into a mad mockery of them self, magic was universal. Light or Dark it all came from the same boundless energy and helped a wizard or witch mature. Spells were evil, casters were evil, magic was benign.
He stopped at the door to his office and frowned. How had it made it up here so fast? Looking back he saw the gargoyle stepping back into place and furrowed his eyebrows. Had he been so lost in thought that he had not noticed giving the password? It seemed that after he called the parents of the missing children he would need to delve into his memories of the year again. He, after all, was human and fallible. With his increased age he was noticing that things were slipping by easier like ice melting in his hand.
Perhaps, after the Triwizard Tournament was over he would announce his retirement. Minerva more than deserved the title of Headmaster as did the chipper half goblin Filius. Perhaps it was time for someone new to take up the fight. With a sigh he looked at his jar of floo powder and steadied himself for the upcoming confrontation. Lucius really could be a pain in his ass.