Harry Potter, Dovakiin: And The Tri-Wizard Tournament

The burning, crackling sound of a dragon, The World-Eater, Alduin, who lay at his feet, barely reached his ears. Instead of staring at a dragon in the middle of a conflagration, something, while awesome, had been seen many times in his short life.

Nope. Instead, the young man stared at the scroll on his hand. It was an Elder Scroll, to be exact. The sapphire, which held the scroll closed, had turned a bright vibrant green.

As green as his eyes.

"Well, this is strange." The young man commented to himself. His eyes widened as the scroll began to shake, and the ground around him began to crumble and break away.

The soul of Alduin, in the form of orange and purple wind, coalesced around the young man, filling his mind with knowledge. A memory came forward, one in which the scroll had reacted in a similar way; and right then, the young man knew he was…

What's that word again?

Oh yes.

Fucked.

That's it.

Apparently, the last time the scroll had reacted like this, the Three had sent Alduin forward in time. Why should this be any different?

"And I never got to say goodbye to mama…" The young man muttered to himself.

And, as he arrived, in a flash of green light, the young man with jet-black hair, green eyes and a lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead, disappeared.

On the highest mountain, an old, gray-scaled dragon murmured, "Goodbye, Dovakiin. I can only hope we meet again."

…

Albus Dumbledore was not what people would describe as a 'normal' person. His long, white beard and hair were tucked into his belt, his magenta robes sparkled like they were covered in fine glitter, his half-moon glasses sat crookedly on his long, broken nose, and his pointy hat was off kilter, pointing to the side.

Normally, Dumbledore would have been a lot neater. His glasses wouldn't be crooked, and his hat would be straight on his head.

But, like so many things, time had changed Albus Dumbledore.

It had started with the disappearance of Harry Potter.

When Dumbledore received word that the wards around the cottage in Godric's Hollow had failed, he rushed there immediately, using an emergency Portkey to take him straight to the house.

He had arrived too late.

Voldemort had stood over the crib holding Harry, Lily's body lying on the floor, laughing as he shouted the Killing Curse.

Dumbledore had seen the flash of green light, heard Harry's cries and Voldemort's scream of pain, and when he looked back, only the robe that Voldemort had worn into the house lay on the floor, while a spot of blood soaked into the sheet in Harry's crib.

Dumbledore had deducted that the Killing Curse had rebounded, destroying Voldemort. It had also left a mark on Harry; a mark that would be on his head, as that was where the Dark Lord had been pointing his wand.

So, when a young man, no older than sixteen appeared in a flash of green light, holding a scroll in his hand, with bright green eyes that seemed to pop out of the red war-paint he wore, with jet-black hair pulled back into a pony-tail underneath the strange armor he was wearing, two swords strapped to his waist and a bow and quiver slung across his back, it should come as no surprise that Dumbledore was on his feet, pointing his wand at the young man.

The young man in question quickly raised his hands in a gesture of 'I'm not armed!'

Which, he obviously was.

Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a hissing sound. This sound came from the scroll the young man held in his hands.

As they both watched, the scroll disintegrated into a fine powder, blowing away out of the Headmaster's open window.

The stranger frowned. "Well, shit."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. He slowly lowered his wand and spoke. "Can you remove your helmet, please?" those eyes seemed so familiar…

The stranger gave him strange look, then shrugged, and complied.

As the helmet was lifted up, Dumbledore found his eyes widening as the lit upon a scar on his forehead.

The stranger pulled a cloth from one of his pouches on his belt, and wiped the war-paint away. When he finished, Dumbledore didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Standing in front of him, looking just like his father with his mother's eyes, was Harry Potter.

"Can I help you?" He asked, giving Dumbledore a piercing look.

Remembering himself, Dumbledore straightened his hat and glasses, asking politely, "Can you tell me your name please?"

"My name is Aelan the Hunter, son of Aela the Huntress." He replied. Then, he shrugged. "But most people call me Dovakiin."

"Why would they call you that?" Dumbledore asked.

"It means 'Dragon Born' in the dragon tongue, and for some reason, no one calls me Aelan. It gets really annoying when you walk up to someone you know for your whole life and they still say, 'Greetings, Dragon Born!' Pisses me right off, I can tell you."

Aelan looked around the office, taking in the sights of whirring silver instruments and the various other things in the room. He nodded. "Hm. I gotta say, this is quite the office you have here, Whitebeard. But where is your arcane worktable?"

Albus blinked. "What?"

Aelan narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the old man in front of him. "Any mage worth his salt keeps an arcane worktable around, along with an Alchemy Lab. Just what kind of mage are you?"

Albus shook his head. "I am not a mage, Aelan. I am a wizard."

Aelan's eyebrows shot up. He seemed to be restraining himself from something.

From what, became apparent as he burst out laughing.

"Oh…ahaha…a wizard? Are you crazy? What the hell is that, some kind hat, or something?" Aelan continued laughing, as Albus raised his wand, and muttered, "Lumos." A small orb of light appeared on the tip of his wand.

Aelan smirked at him. He flicked his wrist, and an orb of blue light illuminated the palm of his hand.

"Candlelight spell. I don't need a medium to cast my spells, as you can see."

Albus frowned slightly at the smirk on Aelan's face, and then smiled suddenly. He flicked hi wand once.

Just once.

And now, Aelan was wearing frilly summer dress with blue trimmings.

Aelan looked down at the dress that used to be his dragon-scale armor, eyes wide. "By Sovengarde!" He exclaimed. "You really are a wizard! Can you teach me how to do that? Please? The Mages at the College always said that Transfiguration was a key mark of a wizard!"

Albus peered at him over his half-moon spectacles. "Who are these 'mages' you keep mentioning?"

Now, Aelan looked confused. "The Mages of the College of Winterhold, of course! Where else would I learn magic?"

Albus frowned at the confused, dress-wearing teen. He flicked his wand once again, and the dress returned to its' original state. "Why did you want to learn magic?" He asked.

Aelan frowned. "My mother always told me about the way she came into caring for me, how I appeared in a flash of green light, with this scar freshly cut on my forehead; and I always wondered if the flash of light was a teleportation spell. So, I trained with the Mages and found that I had a natural affinity for Destruction and Restoration magic, along with some skills I picked up in illusion. It seemed like it was a natural thing to do."

Albus motioned for Aelan to sit down in one of the cushy chairs. "It seems you have a story to tell me, Aelan. Lemon drop?"

Aelan took the proffered hard candy and popped it into his mouth. After a second of contemplation, he began his tale as Albus listened, enraptured.

…

Hermione Granger liked many things about the magical world. However, there was one thing she hated, loathed, absolutely despised.

She had no friends.

Whether it was in the magical world or the muggle world, her know-it-all personality and her smarts seemed to push friends away from her.

She was in her fourth year of learning at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and yet, she found her experiences…lacking, somehow.

Nothing ever exciting happened at school. It was boring, and inside, Hermione yearned for action.

So lost in her thoughts was she, that she didn't pay attention to where she was going. With a muffled clap, she found herself staring up at a pair of the most beautiful bright green eyes that she had ever seen, bushy hair splayed out underneath her head.

"Uh…hi." She blushed as she took in the rest of the face of the person who had bumped into her. She had to admit, he was very handsome.

Aelan stared down at the beautiful brown-eyed witch he was currently on top of, and all of his thought processes proceeded to shut down.

"Hi…" he whispered.

Hermione's blush darkened when she realized the man lying on top of her was gazing into her eyes with wonderment, and a glimmer of what looked like worship.

"I'm Hermione Granger…"

"I'm Aelan. It's nice to meet you, Hermione."

"Can you get off me please?"

Aelan blushed. "Sorry." He pushed himself up and held a hand out for Hermione to take. He heaved her to her feet, and bowed. "I apologize for not paying attention to where I was going, Hermione. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Hermione looked down at the ground, her blush reaching her neck. "Uh…um…Oh, look at the time! We're going to miss the sorting!"

She grabbed Aelan's hand and took off at a dead sprint towards the Great Hall. Dropping his hand and straightening her robes, Hermione opened the door and walked in, hurrying to an empty spot at the table underneath a banner covered in crimson and gold, with a lion on it.

Some of the people sneered at her as she walked by, and others just ignored her, while one, a red-head with a multitude of freckles and big ears, leaned over and whispered something to a brown haired boy sitting beside him, who then attempted to trip Hermione on her way to a seat.

Aelan narrowed his eyes on the snickering kids. Something would have to be done about that, he thought.

All conversation in the hall was silenced as Dumbledore stood up. "Welcome, welcome! To new students, welcome to Hogwarts! And to returning students, welcome back! There is an important announcement I have to make after the feast, but first, we have a surprise sorting to do! So if Minerva will bring out the Sorting Hat, we will see which house a newly transferred student will be in!"

Aelan strode up to the Head Table, clothed in simple black garments, drawing attention from the students as he walked past.

Dumbledore smiled at Aelan, and nodded to him. "This is Aelan Dovakiin, he is a transfer student from a small little academy high in the mountains. Ah, here is Minerva with the Hat."

Minerva McGonagall handed the Sorting Hat to Aelan, who gently placed it on his head.

The Hat only stayed on his head for about thirty seconds, before it called out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Aelan took the hat off his head and handed it to Professor McGonagall while the Gryffindor house cheered. "So, which table is it?" He asked Dumbledore.

The wizened old wizard pointed at the table where Hermione sat alone, people avoiding her like she had the plague. Aelan ignored the red-head who was waving to him, and sat across from the brown-haired witch.

"Hello again, Hermione." He greeted.

Hermione had been staring at ever since he had walked up to the Head Table, and once again found herself at a loss for words. Staring into those green eyes that sparkled with barely hidden mirth and sincerity, she stumbled over the words coming out of her mouth.

"Uh…h-hey, Aelan. W-why are you sitting here?"

Aelan smiled at her. "Well, I thought you looked a little lonely, so I thought I'd come over and keep you company." His eyes shifted around her face. "And what beautiful company you are."

She blushed under the praise, ducking her head and hiding her face. Aelan laughed and shook his head.

"Some girls really don't know how to take a compliment." She glanced up at him, and he grinned mischievously. "Since I'm in the same year as you, I'll just have to teach you. By complimenting you several times a day."

He laughed again as Hermione spluttered indignantly.

Oh yes, he was going to enjoy this.

…

Albus Dumbledore sat in his chair behind his desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly as he was bombarded with questions by the professors of Hogwarts.

"Who was that? Why didn't you tell us we had a new student? Where did he come from? What…"

Albus raised his hand, silencing everyone. "I know it's confusing, but I have a good reason for allowing Aelan to stay." He sighed. "I assume you remember the Potters?" Getting nods from all of them, he continued, "I don't rightly know how to say this, but…"

"That is Lily's and James's son, correct?"

Snape was the one who spoke, and the professors all turned and looked at him in shock. Dumbledore nodded, and asked, "How did you know?"

Snape answered, his eyes slightly unfocused. "He had James's face, and Lily's eyes. I couldn't mistake him for anyone else but their son."

"Is this true, Albus?" Professor McGonagall questioned.

"It is indeed, Minerva. Aelan is Harry Potter, but raised under a different name, and in a different time."

A rough, growling voice reached their ears, and they turned and spotted Alastor Moody, this year's DADA instructor. "What do you mean by 'different time', Dumbledore?"

Albus sighed and pulled a basin from its' cupboard, setting it on his desk. "What I am about to show you, doesn't leave this room, understand?" He glanced at everyone, meeting their eyes. "Good. Now, into the Pensive we go…"

A/N: And there you go! If you like it, review and tell me so!

If you don't like it…

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Keep Being Awesome!

-Sol (T-T)