Okay, so, I dunno whether you saw the edit for the first chapter of Quebrith, but I decided, while writing further chapters, to change things up somewhat. I've done Fourth Year to death, and while I will still do TWT-based fics simply because how convenient the Goblet of Fire is and the Tri-Wizard Tournament is for fanfics, there was something that wasn't quite feeling right here.

So, I decided to do something I hadn't done in a while. I decided to set a story during Year 3. Hopefully, it'll make a nice change, and the usual problem of age differences in pairing is moot due to Harry being a reincarnation, as well as being able to change his appearance back to an adult form before long.

Anyway, I'm genuinely and pleasantly surprised to see the reaction this story got from you. I should reiterate that there are no guarantees that this will become a full story. However, should it do so, Dark Souls fans will be pleased to note that there will be appearances from not only Quelaag and 'Quelaan' (aka the Fair Lady), but also...well, can you guess who it is from the emoticon?

\[T]/

Oh, and a little bit of trivia. As you may know, I'm a major fan of Doctor Who, and I was actually surprised to find that the first and third games have a narrator played by Pik-Sen Lim. You probably don't know who that is, but she played Captain Chin Lee, an unwitting pawn of the Master in The Mind of Evil (and who turns, albeit briefly and unconvincingly, into a dragon via an illusion), and the character recently made a reappearance in the UNIT audio dramas, in Open the Box. She was also married to the late Don Houghton, who not only wrote The Mind of Evil, but also wrote Inferno, a Doctor Who story where the fate of the world was also tied to flames...though really, it was because a parallel Earth got consumed by lava and fire due to a drilling project gone badly wrong. Houghton also wrote a number of Hammer Horror films, and I'm sure Hidetaka Miyazaki was inspired by them for Bloodborne.

Okay, so, I'm babbling a little. But one last thing. I've been getting into a bunch of new franchises recently, and I'm curious as to which of them people would want to see me doing a story with. They weren't necessarily going to be Potterverse crossovers, but, well, I'm considering stories based on Rising of the Shield Hero and Attack on Titan, amongst others. Do those pique your interest? Then let me know in reviews...

Anyway, on with the chapter. Be prepared for fluffy-tailed fluff!


QUEBRITH (REVISED)

CHAPTER 2:

REGAINING TRUST

Priscilla stared down at the young human who had claimed to be her long-dead love. While the feel of his lifeforce was like that of Quebrith, there was enough difference that she felt understandably suspicious, not that she wasn't already. So, she gently lowered her scythe to just under his chin.

"Thou make a bold claim," Priscilla said in a cold tone of voice, colder than the landscape around them. "And while thine lifeforce feels much like his own, there is too much that differs from his for me to take thine words as gospel. So, tell me…what else can thou say that would convince me?"

"Umm…oh, then…how about when we first met?" he asked. "We were but seven years of age, both of us, and my mother had brought me along when she needed to meet with thine sire, Seath the Scaleless…"


Through the Duke's Library, a small form waddled, glad in a fluffy robe. Priscilla, even at her young age, knew she was a bastard child, and a Crossbreed. She was aware of what being an outsider was. While she did get kind words from many, she still felt alone. She hadn't even met children her age, not that any mother would let their child fraternise with a Crossbreed.

Her father was meeting with someone VERY important: no less august a personage than the Witch of Izalith herself! But Priscilla hadn't been allowed there, so she was wandering her father's library, hoping to find something to read. She was feeling more than a little dejected.

And then, she heard a voice, a young voice, that of a boy. "In the Age of Ancients, the world was unformed, shrouded by fog. A land of grey crags, Archtrees, and Everlasting Dragons. But then, there was Fire. And with Fire, came Disp…Disper…Dipsar…" An annoyed snarl. "What is this stupid word?!"

Priscilla rounded one shelf, and found the boy slamming the hardbound tome shut in a huff, sitting at a desk with a lantern nearby. She knew the word, one that her father taught her. "The word is disparity. It means difference."

The boy started, and toppled over in shock, his chair crashing backwards onto the floor. "Ow…" the boy moaned, before he noticed her. "Huh? Who art thou? What art thou?" he asked, scrambling to his feet, rubbing the back of his head.

"…Dost thou not know of me?" Priscilla asked.

The boy peered at her. He had a messy shock of bright red hair, like a flame, with emerald eyes. "Oh! I know who thou art now! Thou art the Crossbreed girl!"

Priscilla felt a sting in her heart at the word, the too-familiar word. "My name is Priscilla," she said morosely.

"…Priscilla? That's a nice name for thee. 'Tis pretty, much like you are."

Priscilla recoiled in surprise. While her parents did call her pretty, she had almost never been called that by anyone else. "…What? What art thou saying?"

"I spoke it already. I am Quebrith, of Izalith."

"Quebrith?" Priscilla tested the name on her tongue.

As she considered this, Quebrith suddenly snapped his fingers. "I know! Friends make nicknames for each other, right? So…well, we might not be friends yet, but we can be. I shalt give thee a nickname. I dub thee…Princess Floof-Tail!"

Priscilla's thoughts ground to a halt, and she flushed in embarrassment. "…What?!"

"Princess Floof-Tail! Thy mother was Princess Gwynevere, was she not? That makes thee a princess too, and thy tail is so…can I touch it?"

"NO!" Priscilla yelped, embarrassed beyond belief. "THOU SHALT NOT TOUCH IT!"

"But 'tis so…floofy!"

"The word is 'fluffy', fool!" Priscilla retorted.

"Do not call me a fool!" Quebrith snapped back.

"Fool!"

"Floof-Tail!"

"Fool!"

"Floof-Tail!"


"And then, one of Seath's attendants came to see what the fuss was about. Mother tanned my hide for making such a scene, too. Not the most promising starts to friendships, but it could have been worse," her beloved said, rubbing the back of his head ruefully.

Priscilla frowned, considering his tale. While it wasn't something only the two of them knew, it was a story few would know. Still, she couldn't help but be sceptical, refusing to let that ember of hope be kindled any further without more proof. So, she said, "And what of our last meeting?"

At this, he stilled, before he sighed gently. "My last words to thee were…I shall endeavour to free thee, or perish in the attempt, and to the Abyss with Lord Gwyn and his brood!"

This cinched it. There had been no other person present. And with that, Priscilla embraced him, hoisting him into the air. "Thou foolish man!" she cried, holding him tight, tears now leaking from her shut eyes. "Why did thou make such a pledge? Such proclamations hath thee noticed by fate, and make thee a fool for declaring such things. I…"

It was at this moment that she realised she was embracing him just a little too tightly, and he was squirming in her grasp, suffocating. She very nearly dropped him in a panic, but regained her composure enough to gently lower him to the ground, whereupon he began gasping. "My apologies, Quebrith," she said quietly. "I was so overwhelmed to see thee free from Nito's grasp that…"

"Tis fine, Priscilla," her beloved said, waving off her concerns. "I am as glad to see thee as thou art to see me. And…wow…I am…sick of talking like I'm in a Shakespeare play. Anyway…it's a long story. The short version is, I was reincarnated as a sorcerer, or rather, a wizard on another world, known as Earth. There, the First Flame did not exist, at least as we know it. However, magic users practise their craft in secret due to persecution from centuries ago. Oh, and they have Dragons there…well, drakes, they're closer to drakes, from what I know."

Priscilla nodded, absorbing this. Still, even as she considered him changing his speech, sounding more plebeian, she took in his appearance. Scrawny, in his mid-teens. The messy shock of hair and the emerald eyes were the same, and there were elements of the face that were similar as well. She noticed something, and gently brushed away part of his fringe, revealing a nasty-looking scar, in the shape of a lightning bolt. As she touched it, she recoiled, hissing. "Dark sorcery," she muttered.

"Yeah. The man who gave it to me murdered my parents in this life. I only survived because of something my mother did," her beloved said. "And now, I find myself in a bit of a dilemma. Regarding you."

"A dilemma regarding I?" Priscilla asked.

Her beloved did not answer at first, instead turning around, looking for something, before exclaiming in realisation. He touched a nearby column. "Weak point in space and time," he said, as the air rippled. "It's how I got in, and it's how we're going to get out."

"Quebrith, what art thou saying?"

Her beloved turned to face her, and walked up to her, no fear or anxiety in his step. "Priscilla…it's been a long time since I promised to find a way to get you out of here. As far as I know, Earth is beyond the reach of Lord Gwyn, of that hag of a mother of mine, of Seath and Nito. I can't promise that they won't fear your Lifehunt, or your very nature. But I can promise to stand by your side when we are there. I know that part of the reason you acquiesced to Gwyn's command was because you felt you didn't have a place in Lordran, or anywhere else in this world. We need to figure out a way of explaining you away…maybe I can claim that the painting I made was hidden away at Hogwarts, it'll save time explaining. But, well, if people can accept Hagrid, I'm sure they'd accept you."

Had it been anyone else, to anywhere else, she would have refused. Her fear of how she would be punished had she emerged from the exile forced on her dictated that. When she heard tidings of Quebrith's death from one of the few to come across her, she felt her last rays of hope snuffed out.

But now, they were rekindled. She knew this was a step into the unknown…and she didn't care now. Maybe this was a delusion, a deception, that this was not truly Quebrith. And yet…she realised she had little left to lose.

The decision took surprisingly little time for her. She nodded, and followed her beloved to the column. She looked out at the snowy landscape. She would miss its bleak beauty, and the inhabitants that were kind to her. But she had something else to strive for, a new world, if what she heard was correct.

Time to embrace the unknown…


Harry (his identity as Harry had solidified enough that he still thought of himself this way, and in any case, Quebrith was the name given to the betrayed son of the Witch of Izalith) got to his feet shakily, helping Priscilla to her feet, no easy task for a fourteen years old teenager helping a giant draconic hybrid to her feet. "Well, at least that worked."

Priscilla brushed her robes off, before looking around. "What is this place?"

"I'm not sure. It's a secret room somewhere in Hogwarts," Harry said. "It's in a medieval castle, huge, but nowhere near as big as the palace of Anor Londo. Still…I just realised something, Priscilla…how long has it been since…we last met?"

The Crossbreed looked away. "I know naught how long…but I believe it to be centuries, at least. Since our last meeting, I received news only from the few visitors to the Painted World who stayed their hand. I heard of thine execution, of course. My mother saw fit to visit me. 'Twas the last time she visited for some time, after I renounced her in wrath, and commanded her to leave my presence forevermore. Later, she came back…and while I was still wrathful, we spoke. She was to leave Anor Londo with Lord Flann, for they had tired of her sire."

Harry nodded absently. Of Gwyn's offspring, he got along best with the likes of Gwynevere, Filianore, and Yorshka best, at least before the latter two were sent away. Gwyndolin had been brainwashed by his father, and the others, Harry had little contact with. "I can't blame the Princess of Sunlight. She seemed to regret what she did to you. But she could never go against Gwyn. What of Artorias and the others of the Four Knights?"

"…Artorias fell in Oolacile," Priscilla said. "I know naught of the details, save that the Abyss was involved. But…of more import to thee is the fate of Izalith. It fell soon after thine execution."

Now this was a shock. As much as Quebrith despised his mother for betraying him to Gwyn, Izalith was still beloved to him. "How?"

"I know naught of the details, as with Artorias' fall, but the city is lost, becoming a nest of demons. Of thy family, I know naught as well."

Harry stared at her. True, he felt little sympathy for the mother who threw him to the wolves to save her own hide, but he still had family he loved amongst her brood. "Quelaag, Quelaan…Quelana…you know nothing about where they are?"

"No."

He nodded absently. It was astonishing enough that she had any news of what happened in Lordran since his execution. Of course, to hear about Izalith falling was shocking, as was Artorias' demise. But it also felt distant, and he'd deal with it later. "And what of so-called Lord Gwyn?"

"The last one to offer me news claimed that he left Anor Londo long ago, soon after the fall of Izalith."

"Hope he's dead," Harry muttered. "Or whatever he's doing, he's suffering horribly. Anyway…look, I'm going to try and pave the way for you being here. I need you to keep quiet about who I am. It won't mean anything to these people, and they might get the wrong idea. Whenever we're in public, please call me Harry."

"Harry…a rather plebeian name, but if it pleases thee…and I understand the need for discretion."

"Thanks, Priscilla. Now, just wait a moment, and I'll see if I can find someone willing to listen…"


As Harry left the room, he wondered who he should look for. Snape was right out, of course, and Hagrid, for all his decent nature, was a simple soul who didn't know what discretion was, if his first year was any indication. Binns was a single-minded eccentric, and there was a disquiet in Harry's mind about Dumbledore lately, the man's insistence that he stay with the Dursleys not helping. Something about him had Quebrith's hackles rising.

Of the remaining teachers, the ones he felt he could trust most were the Heads of Houses, barring Snape of course, and Professor Lupin. He considered them in his mind, before finally plumping for Professor McGonagall. For all her faults (like not listening to him about the Philosopher's Stone, and perhaps not doing enough to temper the rumours about him being the Heir of Slytherin, to say nothing of her being second to Dumbledore), he did trust her to some degree. And as Head of Gryffindor AND Deputy Headmistress, she had at least enough authority to help smooth the way over for Priscilla.

He hoped he wouldn't regret this. He began composing a cover story in his head. It was a fairly simple one, basically being the same as what happened, only that he discovered the painting, and that he wasn't the reincarnation of a mage from another world.

Speaking of which, he needed to consider and consolidate the magic he knew. Aside from Pyromancy, he had studied the Sorcery Seath had founded. He'd even developed spells of his own for some time before he made his fateful decision to find a way to destroy Lord Souls.

That could wait until later, though. He needed time to figure out just how powerful he was, and whether this body could withstand said power. And in truth, the most vital part would be making sure his beloved could stay here with as few issues as possible.

Speaking of, he'd have to find some way to transform his body so it had a semblance of what he looked like, or at least he looked like an adult. He was an adult in his previous life.

He found himself at McGonagall's office, with the woman in question just about to leave it. Harry shucked off the Invisibility Cloak. "Professor?"

She started. "Mr Potter! What on Earth are you doing?"

"I…need help. A situation has arisen…"

Understatement of the century, of course…

CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:

So, Priscilla has been rescued, and Harry's laying down the groundwork for Priscilla to be around Hogwarts. But will he regret this?

No numbered annotations this time.