AN: Well here's the second chapter, I really wish I could make them longer but I am still in the works of this project and if I try to make each chapter a certain length I'm worried it will take forever to update. If you have any questions, suggestions, critique I'd love to hear it. All you Skyrim/ Harry Potter fans have a right to correct me should I make any mistakes perfection takes work you know. Anyway enjoy.
"Conjunctivitus! Stupefy! Incarcerous!" Charlie Weasley roared, his wand dashing back and forth as he cast each spell with quick succession. Several of the other dragon tamers followed up with their own set of spells to immobilize the roaring beast they had finally stunned. Several sets of glowing chains whipped around the Hungarian Horntail as it fell to the ground with a earth shaking thud. Fire burst from its nostrils as the beast began to slumber, twitching ever so often and occasionally sending a tamer flying with a flick of it's tail.
The tall redhead wiped the sweat off his forehead and plopped back onto his rear with a heavy sigh. Twelve hours they had been trying to contain the Horntail after it had suddenly began roaring and shooting fire at everything and anything that moved. While the Horntail was known for being the fiercest and most aggressive species they had at the preserve. Something had triggered the recent bout of rampaging.
Four days ago, all of the adult dragons within the preserve began to act strangely. Not eating the offered cattle, and often engaging each other in battles of fire and frost that sent the Tamers running for cover and having to wait out the onslaught before moving in. Then the Horntail had started it's own reign of terror, costing them six handlers, two tamers, and one visitor to the preserve which had caused a near international incident that the ministry of Romania had to handle with precision and swiftness to avoid having the Dragon Preserve shut down.
"Something has them riled up... I can't believe were shipping them to Hogwarts for the Tournament now, this is the worst possible timing." Charlie murmured, as he dusted himself off and retired to his tent for the night. As he was about to lie down though, he had a quick thought to send a letter that might save someone's life.
Dear Ron...
Hogwarts was in an uproar, the Great Hall was filled with the chattering of students; all of whom seemed to have an opinion or idea on what had happened to Harry Potter five days ago. It had been a Fourth Year Hufflepuff, Susan Bones who discovered that the Chamber of Secrets had been reopened in the girls lavatory on the second floor. Said girl had only chosen to even enter that section of the castle because she had been trying to avoid the ever persistent Zacharias Smith who had been following her all morning.
When the Headmaster had arrived, braving into the open chamber only to find nothing save for a withering Basilisk husk and an empty catacomb devoid of life, the rumor mill began flying like crazy. The most favored and widely accepted one being that when he was shunned by the rest of his classmates, young Harry Potter had returned to the Chamber of Secrets to undergo a dark ritual to become the next Dark Lord. Other such rumors ranged from Harry having been kidnapped by Death Eaters, to having committing suicide and Dumbledore trying to cover up his death.
So it was with a blank expression that Fleur Delacour regarded the bug eyes blonde witch of a reporter that had just asked her opinion on Harry Potter's disappearance. She pursed her thin lips tightly as she pondered over what her answer should be, her father would not be pleased with poor publicity. That however paled in comparison to what would happen if she embarrassed beauxbatons and Madame Maxime found out. Carefully she calculated the pros and cons of her statement before giving a curt nod to the woman and answering in a soft tone.
"Eet iz unfortunate zat no one az been able to figure out what az 'appened to 'im." The silver haired beauty replied as she cast a glance over towards the Gryffindor table, where she saw the young bushy haired girl and the lanky redhead engaged in hushed conversation. Both looked like they hadn't slept since their friend had disappeared. "I 'ope for 'is safe return so zat we may all compete fairly."
"Oh? His safe return, that's quite interesting." Rita Skeeter grinned as she smiled devilishly, turning back to her notes for a moment before regarding the veela champion once more. "The other champions said they are happy to have the competition back to the way it should have been, yet your wishing for little Harry's safe return?" She questioned with the same ever-present smirk of triumph on her lips.
Fleur narrowed her eyes dangerously at the woman, her aura flaring for a brief moment that caused many of the young men in the hall to hunch over, their silverware clattering to the floor from their dazed stupor.
"I do not appreciate what you are implying." She said through a forced smile. "If you 'ave no ozzer questions I will be on my way."
With a quick pace Fleur brushed past the reporter who had her nose in her notes, scribbling away furiously. As she passed the Gryffindor table, her ears perked up at the tidbits of conversation she was able to catch even among the murmuring of the Great Hall.
"Who knows where he is Hermione, Dumbledore himself went down there and he couldn't find a trace!" The redhead, Ron was his name she believed was hunched over and gripping his hair in frustration.
"What if Dumbledore missed something though! Even he admits that he's made mistakes before. What if Harry didn't go into the Chamber at all?!" Hermione exclaimed back, her voice cracking as she spoke.
"But the Chamber of Secrets can only be opened by Harry, unless you know someone else here who knows parsletongue." The reply was short and only earned a 'harumph' from his female counterpart. "I feel horrid Hermione... I was a right git to him and now he's gone... do you know what he has to face if he comes back? Dragons! Charlie wrote me and told me all about it, they're shipping em down here from Romania. If he does come back this tournament will more than likely kill him!"
Fleur's bright blue orbs widened as she caught the last bit, her pace quickening as she absorbed the knowledge she had just obtained. Dragons! How in the hell was she supposed to deal with a dragon? Let alone how did they expect Harry too should he ever show up.
With a look of resolve the young veela marched up to the head table, and waited with only mild impatience before regarding her Headmistress who was finishing up a hushed conversation with the large burly man of a groundskeeper at Hogwarts.
"Fleur?" The tall yet graceful woman tilted her head as she regarded her protege. Noting the pleading look in the girls eyes, the giantess stood up and excused herself from the table. She ushered her over to the corned of the hall and cast a quick privacy charm around them so as not to be overheard.
"I 'ave just overheard what I believe will be ze first task Madame... they speak of Dragons!" Fleur's voice had risen, and she was breathing in sharp haphazard intakes, until the larger woman's hand came to rest on her shoulders. With a gulp she looked up at her Headmistress.
"My leetle flower, you will be fine." The elder woman smiled warmly as she patted the younger girls cheek. "Zis dragon business, are you positive zis is what you 'eard?" She questioned with a calculating expression.
"Oui." She replied curtly.
Madame Maxime frowned at the news and bit her lip opening her mouth to reply before a pulse of magic flew through the air of the Great Hall. Every single person in the Hall fell silent, and their eyes all drifted to the center of the room where the pulse had originated.
Dumbledore rose to his feet and with a whip of his wand that he drew so fast all Fleur saw was a blur; the tables of the Great Hall parted and hugged close to the wall. Students braced themselves as they were pushed well over twenty feet before suddenly halting.
What happened next caused Fleur to raise her hand to her mouth and gasp.
A dark ominous cloud overtook the enchanted ceiling and it began to swirl violently. Flashes of purple and black traded blows against the swirling vortex of dark energy, every single persons hairs stood on edge as they watched dark green tendrils begin to slither out of the cloud.
A figure began to descend down from one of the tentacles, but was tightly wrapped within it's grasp and was hidden from view. As the figure touched down to the cobblestone floor, a dark deep voice roared out with a maniacal laughter.
"Show your colleagues the difference between you and them my Champion! Spread my power across this land and remind these mortals they exist because we allow it! So says I HERMAEUS MORA!"
As fast as it had come, the indoor storm dissipated. Though all eyes stayed locked onto the figure that was left behind as the winds died down.
There, standing in the center of the Great Hall was none other than Harry James Potter. Yet he looked nothing like the meek and feeble boy that Fleur had belittled just under a week ago. His hair was longer; wild and untamed. He stood at least five inches taller than he had been but days ago, and gracing his chin and cheekbones was a dark five o clock shadow. He was adorned in what appeared to be armor made of leather, complete with gauntlets and steel plated boots. The Boy Who Lived looked as if he had just been thrust out of medieval times rather than the modern wizarding world.
As the young man began to advance upon the Head Table, the hall broke out into loud commotion. Cries of confusion, anger, and disbelief broke out.
"SILENCE!" The command came from the now rushing Albus Dumbledore, who was practically sprinting towards Harry with the rest of the staff table close behind. As the Headmaster finally came within arms length of the boy, something that hadnt happened in over a century occurred.
CRACK!
Fleur gasped, as did everyone else witnessing as they watched the Headmaster stumble back holding his cheek with a look of disbelief that seemed out of place on the older man. Harry Potter had just delivered a right hook to the face of the most revered wizard of the age, and from the looks of it, it hurt.
"Harry!" The first person to find their voice was none other than the brilliant bushy haired witch Hermione Granger. Said girl had sprung from her seat, and bolted towards her friend with a commendable speed. Throwing her arms around his neck she began crying into his shoulder, which her head only barely reached now.
For the first time since he had hit the still stunned Headmaster, Harry turned his gaze away and met Hermione's eyes with his own. "It's good to see you too Mione..." He spoke in a tone no one had heard from him before. His voice held strong, confident, with no waiver quite unlike the boy they had all seen walk down this very hall but a week ago.
The black haired teen cocked his head to the side and caught the gaze of his best friend, before he cracked a small smile and nodded his head. At this, Ronald Weasley let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and stood up, advancing on Harry with his arms open to which he was greeted kindly in turn.
"Blimey Mate... what happened to you." The redhead questioned as he found himself at equal height with his friend who he had begun to tower over not long ago.
"Well..." Harry began only to be cut off by a loud, anger ridden voice.
"MR. POTTER! How dare you strike the Headmaster!" Great. McGonagall was pissed.
"Now now Minerva let us hear young Harry out, as shocked as I am, Im not sure he was without reason to deliver such a... credible blow." The aged wizard had finally regained his composure, his eyes were calculating as he regarded Harry.
"You lied to me sir... or rather you've hidden what should not have been hidden all along." Harry spoke not with malice, but conviction and resolve. He firmly believed in the words he just spoke and there was to be no argument. The young boys gaze then turned to look over the Headmaster's shoulder to peer at one Severus Snape. "You however, have much more to answer for."
Harry's gaze returned to the Headmaster's who returned it with a solemn look. "Perhaps we should further this discussion in my office?" The elder wizard offered, and Harry gave a curt nod to the man before turning around on his heel.
Fleur Delacour watched in stunned silence as Harry Potter struck his Headmaster, called him a liar and called out his potions professor before he turned to march out of the room as if he had done no wrong, his two friends trailing behind him talking animatedly.
None of this is what caused the look of shock on the beautiful veela's face, nor the way her heart was pounding in her bosom as she took a step back. For the briefest of moments, when the black haired youth had turned their eyes had met. A fierce sharp brilliant emerald shine emitted from his eyes when they caught her own Cerulean orbs. As their gazes met Harry Potter threw up a brilliant, mocking grin and narrowed his gaze at her a little.
Fleur Delacour washed all thoughts that The Boy Who Lived was indeed just that. No that was the look of a man with purpose, a defiant look thrown her way as if to say 'Still a leetle boy eh?' There was something absolutely feral about him now, as if he commanded respect and confidence rolled off him in waves. The veela in her stirred with desire and intrigue, and without knowing she had done so, Fleur licked her lips as her aura flared ever high.
Albus Dumbledore hung his head in shame as he looked down at his folded hands, before standing up from behind his desk with a sigh. Stroking his incredible beard with a calculating expression and a small frown on his lips. To learn that Harry had traveled to one of the planes of Oblivion. Apocrypha! What he had assumed was only a legend, and to find that he had been their by his count of seven months time.
"I am sorry Harry, I should have informed you of the prophecy that first year after you had disposed of Professor Quirrel. It is my deepest regret to have hidden this from you, although you must tell me how you came to discover it?" The old man gazed through his spectacles at the young man he had wronged.
Said teen was stroking the back of the brilliant Phoenix Fawkes, who cooed at his touch. "Hermaeus Mora is the Daedric prince of Knowledge sir and there is very little that can be hidden from one such as he. Apocrypha is his realm and everything he knows can be found there."
"The Daedric Princes Harry? You know that they are inherently dark beings... am I to understand you have made a pact with one of them?" The headmaster's frown deepened.
"No sir... the Daedric Princes have a rather brazen code. They value strength, power, ambition above all else and ask very little of me in return nothing dark I assure you." Harry began, stepping away from the golden fire bird with a thoughtful look. "Hermaeous Mora has offered to assist me in these coming trials I am to face... and I do not mean the tournament or the prophecy sir, though I believe what I have learned and will learn will prove useful."
For once in a very long time, Albus Dumbledore felt every one of his one hundred and forty nine years of age. This particular conversation ached him to his bones. "Just what are you referring to then... what trials await you Harry?"
The young man's response sent a chill through the most revered wizard of the century, and brought a very rare feeling of terror up to surface as he gazed into the hardened emerald eyes of Harry Potter.
"Tell me sir... what do you know of a dragon called Alduin?"
"How could you turn the mortal loose without even having him swear his loyalty to us!" The realm turned red as blood with every syllable shouted out by the cry that echoed all about.
In the planes of Oblivion, four of the Daedric Princes had gathered to discuss their new champions return to the realm of the living.
"Fear not Boethiah, he will do our bidding I have seen to it myself that his desires have been set in the motion that we need. No oath will be needed, he does not like to be controlled and the best way to control someone is to let them believe they are acting of their own... accord." The whimsical voice of Hermaeus Mora proclaimed to the first shrill female voice that echoed through the plane. His aura pulsed a dark forest green as he spoke, his tentacles waving about in a carefree fashion.
"I for one can't wait to see what the kid's got! Ha!" Sheogorath cackled his opinion out. Prominent colors of orange and red flashing through the realm as his cackling rose to heights unheard.
"So dear brother, what did you ask of him first?" The soothing melody of Mephala's voice flowed smooth and evenly, a light purple glow emitting from her orb like visage.
The Daedric Prince of Knowledge caused an image to appear of a small rat running through a Dark Forest on the edge of Scotland. The rat jumped up and transformed into a man that very much resembled his animal form, feeble and pathetic. The Death Eater approached the edge of the forest, and gazed up at the tall towers that trademarked Hogwarts Castle.
"Why... to bring dear Boethiah a sacrifice of course. After all she has been sealed longer than any of us."
If they had the ability to do so in their current forms, the four Daedric Princes would have grinned.