I do not own any part of the Harry Potter or Eragon universes.

Since Brom discovered Harry outside the village, three years have flown by, and Harry has made the most of his time living on his own terms. He no longer carried the burden of a prophecy weighing heavily on his shoulders, nor did he have to constantly look over his shoulder for a lurking Dark Lord ready to pounce him from the shadows.

As Harry walked through Carvahall, he felt a peculiar sensation in his chest when he realized that nobody was bothering him. The villagers were kind, and many of them greeted him with warm smiles, except for Sloan of course. Harry finally had the chance to be just himself, which was something he had been yearning for.

Nobody knew him in Alagaёsia and that was a good thing.

While Harry held himself back from the King's affairs, he kept picking up information from the merchants or the few people that were passing through the village. With each passing year it seemed that the situation in the kingdom was getting worse and worse.

Despite the whispers and rumors that were involving the Varden, Harry distanced himself from them.

Even when he heard that small groups of Urgals appeared near the spine that had attacked the traders more frequently in recent years, he thought nothing of it. None of the creatures had dared approach Carvahall before and he doubted that they ever would.

A few months after Harry had arrived at Carvahall, he had a big falling out with Brom.

Flash Back

"What do you mean, you won't join the Varden?" Brom growled in a furious voice.

Harry had his back to Brom. His shoulders were tense, and he tightened his grip on the pot and stopped stirring the soup that he was preparing.

"I meant exactly what I said," Harry stated through gritted teeth.

Brom narrowed his eyes at him.

"Harry, I'm not a fool. I heard what you said. I want you to explain yourself! You could change everything in this war!" Brom demanded in a strained voice.

Harry turned around. His eyes were tired, and his heart felt cold. The decision hadn't been easy for him, and he still wasn't sure whether it was the right one.

"I'm tired by it all, Brom," Harry whispered as he rubbed his eyes with both hands.

"Ever since I was eleven years old, I have had to fear and fight for my life. I've never had time for myself to do what I want. It was always, 'Don't worry Harry, we'll do it' and in the end I was the one who had to do everything on my own. No one did listen to me."

"That may be so, Harry. Nevertheless, we have a responsibility to the people of Alagaёsia. You could save thousands of lives!" Brom retorted, fixing Harry with a stern look.

"And I would have to take just as many lives!" Harry shouted back in response. "I turned up in a land where I don't know anyone, and I don't know if I'll ever see my friends again. Why would I want to stand up for anyone in Alagaёsia? Why should I fight?" Harry's chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, and he shook his head in an attempt to steady himself.

"Every night I have nightmares about what happened in my past, about the people that died in front of my eyes. I have done enough for others. Now, I would like to think of myself for the first time. I'm not a soldier, Brom."

A cold wind blew through the cabin and Harry closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, the chair in front of him was empty. Brom was gone and the door to his hut was wide open.

After the argument, Brom hadn't shown himself again. The only visitors that Harry got, were Katrina, Gertrude, and Horst.

Horst stopped by every couple of weeks to give Harry his broken tools, which Harry could quickly and easily repair with a simple spell.

It was definitely worth seeing Horst's surprising look. He confessed to Harry that he only gave him a few spare tools so Harry could play around with it, but never thought he could actually repair them.

To be true to his acting, Harry built an oven on the growing demand and people in the village asked him to repair their respective items in exchange for a small fee.

It was one of the reasons why Harry no longer harbored guilt about receiving the home as a gift. He had made amends promptly and settled his debt over time.

The villagers didn't trust him at first, but as the months went by there were few people in the village who argued that Harry shouldn't call the hut his own.

However, that wasn't all Harry was spending his time with.

He had thought that the two worlds were completely different, but so far, he had found something that existed in both worlds.

It was Diptam. A plant that could heal smaller poisons, injuries, and snakebites.

Harry had immediately uprooted the diptam and moved the plant close to his house. While he didn't love herbology like Neville did, he had spent several years tending the Dursleys' front yard, which gave him enough experience to grow them.

As a result, he also received occasional visits from Gertrude, who was also very knowledgeable about plants. Harry told her about the properties of the plant, and together they developed a paste based on the diptam.

Thus passed his days until he heard of Albrecht's accident. Albrecht was surprised by his brother while he was chopping wood in the garden. He was about to throw the ax at a piece of wood when he lost his balance, because of his brother's call and the ax cut into his leg instead of the wood.

Gertrude rushed to Horst's house and treated Albrecht with the diptam. In a few days, all that was left of the injury was a narrow white scar.

Concern grew among many villagers. Many of them wanted nothing to do with this magic plant, as many called it.

"This is like magic! That will only bring bad luck!"

"He will damn our village!"

Horst didn't care about any of this. He was just glad that the injury had healed well, and Albrecht was able to move again.

But even the villagers' minds who opposed the diptam faded over time as they all witnessed the plant's benefits firsthand.

From there, Harry finally found a purpose in his life.

He wasn't the freak with the Dursleys anymore, or the boy who lived to the wizarding world.

He was Harry, some villager in Carvahall who was quite knowledgeable about healing practices, helping others with illnesses and injuries, and doing the occasional repair of tools.

Despite everything, his time at Carvahall was not always one of joy.

For Carvahall was increasingly visited by the king's soldiers to recruit young lads for the army.

The young people still had the option of not complying, but Harry overheard whispers from the travelers that there was growing unrest in the Empire and that more and more people had no other option than to join the soldiers or head south towards Surda escape.

But Harry moved away from the rumors to avoid drawing attention to himself. Which he succeeded in doing, since no soldier had ever knocked on his door to this day.

Harry was able to earn some crowns through trading with the merchants, which made him feel satisfied. He couldn't help but inwardly smirk at the thought that this was probably the reason the Sorting Hat had considered placing him in Slytherin. After all, he was taking advantage of the injuries sustained by the traders during their travels.

All it took was a presentation and the merchants were quickly won over by the diptam. Harry was careful not to oversell though, and the merchants had to swear to never mention his name or Carvahall when they were discussing the diptam.

With the crowns, he was able to buy himself a magnificent black horse with brown eyes, which he named Ares, after the Greek god of war and courage.

Harry wanted to start exploring the neighboring towns with Ares in the coming spring. So far, he had only been able to experience Carvahall and finally wanted to make sure that the stories Brom told him about Alagaёsia were truthful and not biased in his hatred of the king.

Harry could have traveled sooner, but he had gotten so used to life in Carvahall that he did not feel like leaving for the time.

Another reason was also Katrina.

Katrina was the only one in the village Harry would say he was good friends with.

That didn't quite get the point.

Within the three years, the new acquaintance grew into a very close friendship that Harry cherished more than anything.

Despite not discussing his past with her due to her intuition about something being amiss, Harry felt comfortable enough to confide in her about other things, even things he hadn't shared with Ron or Hermione.

He didn't always tell the truth, but from a certain point of view the gist of the statement was always true.

"Harry?" A young female voice called out.

"Here!" Harry groaned and buried his face in the pillow.

Harry heard footsteps, followed by a deep sigh.

"Still in bed?" Katrina frowned when she pulled the covers away from him, ignoring his shouts of protest, exposing his skin to the cold air.

"Did you have to that?" Harry grumbled and covered his mouth with his hand to stifle a yawn that was escaping.

Katrina stared at him for a few moments until she stepped forward and ran a hand through his hair.

Katrina frowned and replied, "You've been up again for so long? Even my father, who does nothing but work, doesn't work half as much as you do."

"Not work, no," Harry answered with a frown of his own.

When he couldn't sleep, he spent his time trying out new runes. Last night's results nearly burned his shack to the ground.

Harry reached up and gave Katrina a hug.

"You need a bath, Harry. You stink," she scolded him, and wrinkled her nose.

Harry leaned back from her with a bright grin and started heating the stove.

"Tea?" Harry asked with a smile as he watched Katrina nod eagerly.

"Gladly! Your drink is the best in all of Carvahall," Katrina replied and returned his smile.

Harry snorted amused. "Don't say that around Quimby. He's still bothering me because I don't tell him how to make the tea among other things."

They chuckled and waited for the water to boil. Harry grabbed a couple of mugs from the cupboard and filled them up.

"Careful, it's still hot," Harry told her as he handed her the mug.

"Thank you, Harry," Katrina said as she blew carefully over the tea and took a slow sip.

"Ah, your tea is always special, Harry," Katrina sighed contentedly, and leaned back in her chair.

Harry took a sip as well and asked, "So why are you here exactly?"

"Not that I don't like your presence, but you did tell me yesterday, that you wouldn't be coming today."

Harry watched in amusement as Katrina fidgeted in her chair and looked at him sheepishly.

"I didn't know who to talk to about this," Katrina started. Harry deftly arched an eyebrow.

"I could never go to my father with this... Horst would be an option, but I just wouldn't feel comfortable speaking with him," Katrina murmured.

"Katrina-" Harry began but was immediately cut off again.

"And Gertrude is like a dear aunt to me, but-"

"Katrina! Stop rambling." Harry exclaimed with an amused expression.

Katrina looked up from her lap and blushed.

"Sorry," Katrina murmured, immediately looked down at her lap again.

Harry got up from his seat and knelt down in front of her.

"You can tell me anything. I hope you do know that" Harry whispered and looked up into her eyes.

"Yes, I know that. Thank you, Harry," Katrina sniffed, rubbing her eyes with her hands.

"Shall we go visit Ares? You haven't seen him in a long time and I'm sure he missed you already."

Her eyes lit up. "Fine," she agreed with a smile.

Harry got up and dragged Katrina to his self-made stable, where Ares was waiting for them.

He gave her a few minutes with Ares, who was very excited to finally see her again.

"Good boy," Katrina praised as Ares ate an apple from her hand.

"You spoil him way too much," Harry remarked with an amused frown.

Katrina shrugged her shoulders. "I haven't seen him in a while. Are you still planning to ride to Yazuac?" Katrina asked, wanting to steer the conversation away from the tense topic they had discussed earlier.

Harry quickly picked up on Katrina's attempt to change the subject. He knew her too well for that.

He rolled his eyes and said, "Perhaps, but let's not change the topic. What's bothering you? Did Roran end things with you? If so, I'll make sure to break his legs," Harry vowed.

Katrina took a deep breath and answered in a whisper.

"Roran is moving to Therinsford soon to work at the mill to make money," Katrina explained in a soft voice.

"Money? What for?" Harry asked with a confused look.

Harry was one of the few who knew that the two were a couple.

He had found it amusing when Roran had stood before him nervously, questioning Harry's intentions with Katrina. It had become common knowledge in Carvahall that Harry regarded Katrina as a younger sister.

'Even for Sloan the miserable git,' Harry thought with a wry smile. There was no love lost between Harry and Sloan.

When Katrina heard his question, she couldn't help but roll her eyes. Anyone who knew Harry long enough knew that he was far too slow-witted with women.

"I really fear for the person who ends up with you, Harry," Katrina replied slowly. "He needs the money to marry me, you idiot."

Harry's eyes grew wide. "Oh."

After a moment of silence, Harry asked. "And Sloan? Does your father know about this?"

Harry doubted that anyone would be permitted to marry Katrina, given Sloan's protectiveness over her. He was sure, if Sloan had his way, he would lock Katrina away forever, so no man would have a chance to ask for her hand.

Never mind someone like Roran who lived near the spine.

"No, my father doesn't know," Katrina admitted while she slowly combed Ares's mane.

"Harry, he will never give Roran his blessing," Katrina sniffed after another moment. Tears began to form and slowly ran down her cheeks.

Harry embraced her from the side, and she leaned into him.

"No matter what you do or whatever decision you make, I'll always be there for you," he promised her. "And if Sloan refuses to give you a dowry, don't worry about it."

Harry knew from several conversations with Gertrude that the older women in Carvahall placed great value on their tradition.

He gently wiped the tears from her face as she looked up at him with a questioning gaze.

"I inherited enough jewelry and gold from my parents that any princess would be jealous of you," Harry explained in a confident voice.

"B-But Harry, you can't d-do that for me," Katrina cried and Harry gave her a grin, that he knew, Sirius and his father would have been proud of.

"Katrina, when I came to Carvahall, I met a shy young girl." Harry looked her straight in the eyes and brushed a tear from her eye with his finger.

"This girl is 16 today and she's growing up to be a beautiful woman." Katrina's face turned red.

"You know how I was in the beginning. I wouldn't be who I have become today without your friendship," Harry continued.

"You've become like a little sister to me. A sister I never had," Harry confessed, and Katrina threw her arms around him.

"Thanks, Harry," Katrina sniffled and sighed as Harry held her tight. "You're like a big brother to me too. Even if father doesn't like you. And your hugs are really good now."

She gave him a bright smile and the two of them couldn't help but laugh.

After a few moments, both had calmed down and only heard Ares's snorting.

Katrina rubbed her tired eyes and brushed her copper-colored hair away from her face.

"Oh, Harry? I met someone before I came here," Katrina said with a malicious grin.

"Really? And who?" Harry questioned her, his eyes narrowing.

"Odele."

Harry groaned and Katrina laughed.

It was no secret that Odele took an interest in Harry. Although Odele is a lovely young woman, Harry just wasn't interested in her. They were too different.

"She was asking about you," Katrina grinned. She knew very well that Harry wasn't interested, but it was always a good subject to tease him with.

"And what did you say?" he asked in a dry voice.

"That you are not interested in her," she answered truthfully. "Even though you are a danger to any single woman with your forest green eyes and aristocratic face. Her words." Katrina added with a laugh when Harry buried his face in his hands.

"As long as she doesn't spread the word I don't care," Harry said with a determined look that quickly disappeared when he saw Katrina's grin.

"Believe me, she's not the only one who has a crush on you. Some of the elderly woman would love to have a chance with you."

Harry frowned at her.

"I take everything back. I hate you sometimes."

Katrina jokingly shoved him aside as they walked back to Harry's hut.

Harry went to his closet where he kept the diptam containers and took out some.

"Can you take this for Gertrude?"

Katrina nodded and gave Harry a lasting hug.

Harry looked into her warm brown eyes and said, "Everything will turn all right. Trust me."

"Thank you," she whispered when he let go.

Harry gave her another squeeze and Katrina was about to leave when she remembered something.

"I almost forgot. I'm supposed to tell you from Horst that the traders will probably arrive tomorrow."

She turned around again and wrinkled her nose. "And don't you dare forget the bath!"

Harry laughed and watched for several minutes as Katrina made her way to the village and finally disappeared over the hill when he suddenly felt his magic react to something.

Harry had been able to use his magic to sense his surroundings for some time, something that was very helpful when he started learning silent spells.

Madame Pomfrey eventually theorized that Harry's magic became so good at protecting him, when as a child his body needed much of his magic to heal from the injuries, he had received from the Dursleys.

This was also one of the reasons why he was much less likely to accidentally use magic as a child, such incidents as dyeing his teacher's hair blue or appearing on the school roof were rare.

While other wizard children would have an incident of magic whenever they felt angered or sad.

Harry followed his magic outside, just behind his hut. There he saw a small white light appear on the ground, growing in size over time.

Small lightning came from the white light and burned the frozen meadow if the lights came in contact with it.

The light buzzed with energy, growing until it reached Harry's waist, and then it stopped, as if waiting for something to happen. He was about to take a step back when there was a loud crack, and his vision was filled with whiteness.

He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes to get the white flecks out of his sight. The air literally vibrated with magic.

The scent of burnt grass lingered in the air, and a patch of scorched ground several square meters in size surrounded the area. The snow nearby had melted away, and at the center of it all rested a sizable, oval-shaped, white stone.

Harry had only one thought in mind.

"What in Merlin's slippery underpants was that?!"

Harry still couldn't believe what had just happened.

He did not dare to move from where he stood.

Somehow that rock just appeared out of nowhere from behind his hut. That usually didn't bode well for Harry.

Not a good sign at all.

He took a cautious step forward, bending down slightly and slowly reaching out with his hand to touch the stone.

The stone was pleasantly warm, which was not surprising, given the burnt meadow.

Harry sat cross-legged on the ground and held the stone in his hands, placing it on his lap. The stone was smooth as ice and was white as snow except for fine ice-blue fibers crisscrossing the surface like a spider's web.

The extraordinary was that he could feel the stone literally radiate magic.

Harry studied the stone for a long time, and after several minutes of silence, he suddenly noticed movement from the stone, accompanied by a loud squeak.

Startled, Harry dropped the rock from his lap and pulled his wand from his wand holster.

With another squeak, the stone began to rock back and forth, and a familiar scene unfolded before Harry's eyes.

A feeling of nostalgia washed over Harry, as it reminded him of his first year at Hogwarts when he had visited Hagrid and witnessed the hatching of a dragon egg.

And Harry would bet everything he owned that there was a dragon egg in front of him.

Harry frowned as he remembered something Hagrid had told him about dragons.

In an explanation that lasted several hours, Hagrid had explained to him in detail which conditions had to be met for a dragon egg to hatch at all.

One of those requirements was, that the dragon egg had to be exposed to extreme heat.

Harry looked around but saw nothing but snow. He was sure, that didn't apply here.

However, Harry was interrupted from his thoughts when the egg started to rock back and forth even more. He cautiously took a step back because dragons were after all dangerous creatures.

He snorted, when he vaguely remembered Norberta setting Hagrid's beard on fire just after the dragon hatched.

The egg stopped rocking, and Harry held his breath.

For a few seconds nothing happened.

Creak.

Suddenly there was a small crack in the stone. Then one more. And another one.

Harry watched in suspense as a piece of the shell wobbled and finally fell to the ground. After another loud squeak, a small head popped out of the hole, followed by a slim body.

Harry could hardly believe it. He had his suspicions, of course, but actually seeing it was something else entirely.

A real dragon hatched from the egg!

Harry watched in amusement as the young dragon moved further out of the egg and began cleaning itself, barely noticing Harry's presence. But as the little creature looked up at him with a curious expression, Harry's heart melted.

The dragon was beautiful in Harry's eyes.

It was no larger than Harry's forearm and was the same color as his egg. A pure white that reminded Harry of the marble used for Gringotts, the Wizarding Bank.

A line of small spikes ran down the spine from the head to the tip of the tail. In between there was a slightly larger, hollow-like gap in the neck.

Harry made a cautious move with his body.

The dragon noticed the movement and instantly the dragon's head buckled over to him. The dragon looked up at Harry with bright ice blue eyes, and Harry stared back, his own emerald-green eyes widening in amazement.

However, before Harry could do anything else, the dragon lost its interest in him and clumsily walked into his shack and started to explore the surrounding area.

"This is amazing," Harry whispered, clearly amused as he followed the dragon inside.

The dragon began to sniff around the room, inspecting Harry's sparse collection of furniture. It then started to scratch at the legs of the table with its small claws, but quickly lost interest and moved on to explore other parts of the room.

After a vigorous flap of its wings, the dragon hopped onto Harry's bed and crawled onto his pillow, emitting a small squeak. It sniffed around the pillow as if searching for something until its eyes lit up and it settled down comfortably.

Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and watched in amusement as the dragon carefully nibbled at his sleeve and sniffed at the hand he carefully held out.

He cautiously reached out and touched the dragon's snout.

The moment his finger touched the dragon, he felt a burst of energy shoot through his hand, up his arm, and it felt like liquid fire coursing through his veins.

Harry fell off the bed and barely suppressed a scream. He felt his magic spiral out of control and run through his body.

After what felt like hours, the pain slowly subsided, leaving Harry on the floor, panting and sweating.

Harry opened his eyes and felt a strange weight on his chest. He lifted his head off the ground and looked straight into the dragon's blue eyes.

"Y-You did that?" Harry asked, while he still gasped for air.

Not a second later, he felt something brush against his consciousness. He could sense emotions like curiosity, confusion, and concern.

It didn't feel like someone was using Legilimency on him.

Legilimency was very direct and blunt, which in most cases meant that if the mind's defenses were completely breached, only a broken mind would be left behind.

But the dragon felt warm and whole in comparison, with the curiosity of a newborn.

Harry was about to pull away from the bond when he saw a mental image of himself writhing on the floor. It was an odd feeling, seeing himself from the dragon's perspective.

He stretched his mind to the very edges of his consciousness, but this time he felt as if an invisible wall had peeled away from him, and Harry sensed the dragon's consciousness and its endless curiosity.

Harry sat up slowly, the dragon slid from his chest into his lap with a squeak and looked up at him with those wide blue innocent eyes.

"You are way too cute, looking like that," he said.

He hesitantly reached out with his hand again and was relieved that nothing happened.

The dragon rested its small, slender head against his hand and Harry stroked the side of its jaw.

While the dragon enjoyed the stroking, Harry thought of what he needed to do.

He remembered the tales Brom had told him.

During his time at Carvahall, Harry had managed to snag books from the merchants that contained little information about Dragon Riders.

And if Harry wasn't mistaken, he had just become the unwanted number one against the Black King and his empire. Again.

Something he definitely did not want.

"Bugger me," Harry muttered as he watched the dragon close its eyes.