Author notes: Here is another idea I just couldn't get out of my head so hopefully by posting it, it will leave me alone so that I can continue my other stories.

Paring: Harry/Faissa

When: Post book 6 - 4E 201

Summary: Dragons? Why is everyone making such a big fuss over mere dragons? Wait did that dragon just talk? And what the hell is a Dovahkiin? Maybe he shouldn't have picked up that portkey like scroll it seems he arrived at rather strange place again due to magical travel.

Warnings: Slightly OOC!Harry, somewhat cynical!Harry, no slash, character death(s), minor changes in the established pre-book 7 Harry Potter canon

Also I have only played Oblivion and Skyrim I also looked up a lot of information on the wikis, but the Elder scrolls lore is very extensive so I might have made some mistakes.

This is also my first crossover so if any of you readers has any tips after reading a chapter be sure to review or to PM it to me.

Prologue

With a loud 'thud' the head of a seventeen year old young man connected with the book that laid open on the table the aforementioned young was sitting at. The male who went by the name of Harry James Potter was not a happy person. In fact that was probably an understatement, but seriously could anyone blame him?

He was alone in the house formerly belonging to his late godfather surrounded by books, books, and more books.

One may wonder how this very unlikely scenario came to be. The answer to that was actually not all that complicated. As agreed upon at the end of his last school year his two best friends; Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had joined him at the house belonging to his aunt and uncle so that they could prepare themselves for the hunt of Voldemort's soul anchors, items more commonly known as Horcruxes.

They were going to stay there until his seventeenth birthday; the day he was considered an adult in the magical world. Those days were mostly spending discussing and researching possible Horcruxes and where they could be hidden.

But that was not all they had been discussing; Hermione albeit very reluctantly brought up the topic of the prophecy; the prophecy which more or less stated that Harry would be the one to beat Voldemort with some kind of power that Voldemort does not process.

Albus Dumbledore, the late Headmaster of Hogwarts had told Harry he thought that love was the power he knows not, but Hermione was not completely convinced her former headmaster was right and although she didn't put much stock in prophecies the stakes were just too high to completely ignore something that might end up being something so important.

Unfortunately while she could not see love being the power he knows not she hadn't the faintest idea what could be. So besides the earlier research regarding the soul anchors they also spend the days scouring through all the books Hermione had brought with her looking for something Voldemort might not now … suffice it to say it was like looking for a needle in a haystack and considering they didn't even know what the needle looked like …. yeah not the most useful use of their time.

So days passed and with each day their moods became sourer and sourer as no useful information was found. Ron someone who had even less love for books than Harry soon started to complain something which definitely did not help the mood.

Still they managed to make it to the week before his birthday with only a two dozen shouting matches between Hermione and Ron, a broken nose, and the need to store the wands away before any of them did something that they would regret.

Unfortunately things only got worse when Harry got a letter from one of his contacts in the Order of the Phoenix; Fleur Delacour. Harry had kept up a correspondence with his fellow former fellow tri-wizard champion ever since the tournament had ended and she was probably one of the few who didn't see him as a little kid … well Sirius may also be one of them, but considering how often he seems to mistake him for his father it was hard to say just how much damaged those Dementors had done.

The letter password protected and written in French (Merlin that had been a pain to learn, but it was rather amusing whenever Ron tried to read it over his shoulder) spoke of what the order was planning regarding his 'extraction' from private drive. Just reading about it was enough to induce a headache; had those people ever head of unnecessary complicated?

To be honest Harry was wondering why those people where even coming up with a plan at all. He would be an adult then there would be no reason for them to dictate his life.

After another quick discussion it was decided they would leave early; trace be damned Harry just had to withhold using magic until it was his birthday. Unfortunately they could no leave just yet as they first had to decide where to go.

They had some hints for the Horcruxes, but nothing concrete. They would have to investigate those places personally before they could say if there was a Horcrux there or not. Harry for one was all for that; finally getting out of the house and actually doing something definitely sounded more appealing to him then continuing what he had been doing for the last few weeks.

That plan however was quickly torpedoed by Hermione who pointed out that they still had no idea what the power he knows not was. So with the separate objectives ahead she suggested they split up; she and Ron would hunt the Horcrux while Harry would search for the power of the prophecy.

Harry upon hearing this quickly pointed out that they already went through the trio's collective books and with Voldemort in power he could hardly go to Flourish and Blotts. At this Hermione reminded Harry that he had inherited an entire library from his godfather. She also reminded him that she had read up upon the Fidelius charm and that she should be able to reapply it as long as she had the consent of the owner.

Of course Harry then asked the question what seemed logical to him and that was why she and Ron didn't also come to live at Grimmauld Place even if they had separate tasks there was no reason for them to live apart.

Hermione had admitted she hadn't the faintest idea to the true extent of magical tracking by the ministry so for all they knew they could track apparition and portkey travel. To be absolute safe they had to keep the use of magic to the bare minimum; so no magical travel. Due to this it was just not doable to stay in a single place. Not giving up Harry said that they could always shrink the library down and put it in her bag.

The look in her eyes she had back then was something Harry had never seen before in them. He had got through a lot alongside her and had seen a lot of different facial expressions, but the look of absolute resolve he had seen back then was something he had never before. If that had been shocking then it didn't even compare to what she said next.

It was said in an extremely low voice so only he heard it (and there was a distinct possibility he wasn't even supposed to hear it). ''If the prophecy is really true then Ron and I are expendable you are not.''

Harry wanted to protest, but the look she gave him made him swallow the words that were about to come out of his mouth. Something had changed with his best female friend he wasn't sure what it was, but ever since she arrived Harry could tell something big had happened and nothing he would say would change her mind.

So here he was at Grimmauld Place … alone … surrounded by books … Merlin he almost start to feel sorry for Kreacher. Harry sighed as he leaned back in the chair. Months had passed since he started living here. Hermione and Ron had dropped by twice both times to tell him about some lead they found, but so far as far he knew they hadn't found anything.

He himself hadn't been exactly idle either. While he wasn't exactly fond of studying he now under the protection of the Fidelius charm could practice as much magic as he wanted and being alone and as such not having much else to do other than study for months resulted in him having a drastic increase in his spell arsenal.

Among those new spells Harry had also started to dabble in the dark arts; something which the Black library was rather full of. At first he done so to prepare himself against what his enemies would wield, but when he fired his first dark art spell something changed. He wasn't sure what it was he felt when he had fired that first spell, it felt wrong, but at same time it felt so enticing that he immediately wanted to fire another spell … was that what people called the allure of the dark arts?

Of course no one (except for maybe Hermione) could study the entire day so he also spends a couple of hours each doing other things. He of course had to cook each using the magical preserved and shrunken food that had been stashed in the house when he first had started living there.

He had also spent each day doing some physical training. It was nothing grand; he was a wizard first and foremost and physical strength would help him little if his enemies usually were too far away for him to use it. No it was more something along the lines of burning of excessive energy than really training. Still a small part of his was rather satisfied with how far he has come in comparison to his first attempt at push-ups … a rather pathetic attempt which left his arms shaking like mad after doing only twenty of them.

Recently he had also brewed a Animagus form revelation potion. A potion which if the book was to be believed would show him the animal he could transform into in a series of dreams. So far he had only dreamt of vague outlines of what he believed were wings. Harry was actually quite happy with that as he loved flying and while he hadn't the faintest idea what animal it was as he could barely even make out the wings the fact that it had wings had been enough to lift his mood slightly.

What didn't lift his mood however was what he did in the rest of his spare time. Well to be more exact it was the time he spend doing nothing. Those times when his mind wasn't preoccupied it started to wander.

His mind usually drifted to events of the past and due to already not being in the greatest of moods due to his isolation the memories that sprang forth usually weren't that great either.

Memories from his childhood at the Dursleys, attending primary school where the teachers were blind or just didn't act at seeing Dudley bully him and his classmates, the people of Private Drive who believe his aunt gossip regarding him even though it should have blatantly obvious who the real criminal of the two cousins was.

Memories of his time as a wizard; the gawking, the discrimination, the sheep mentality, the many near death experiences and the fact that no matter what happened in the end it usually came down to him and his friends to solve it. That was not even mentioning that the adults usually treated him like a child even though he had gone through so much more than most of them combined.

He thought back to his ex-girlfriend who apparently thought he was only happy if he went after Voldemort. He thought back to his former mentor who had admitted that he had known how the Dursleys would treat him when he had left him there as a baby.

Merlin it was a small miracle he was still willing to get up each morning and study to defeat Voldemort. To be honest he held little love for either Muggles or Magicals and while his rational mind knew not all of them were probably as bad as his memories portrayed the more emotional part of his found it hard to believe. The only reasons he could come up with why he still wanted to kill that bastard was because he was the murderer of his parents and the indirect killer of his godfather, a man who while not exactly sane Harry still had been somewhat close to.

He also did it for the few people he actually did care for; Ron and Hermione; his two best friends since first year. They had their ups and a lot of downs, but at the end they were still his first two real friends who even know were risking their lives attempting to destroy the Horcruxes, then there was Fleur; he wasn't as close to her as he had been with the before mentioned duo, but he still considered her close friend who deserved to live her life in peace especially after what she did for him during his fifth year. Then there was the rest of the Weasley family; honestly Harry a bit of mixed feeling about them; Mrs Weasley, Ginny, Percy all of them had some personality traits that annoyed him, but at the same time even though they were as poor as one can get they still took him in and had treated him like family; something he had craved for as long he could remember. So yes despite their flaws he really hoped that family would live to see the end of the war intact.

Of course there were a couple of other people Harry wanted to see to live the end of the war such as Neville and Luna who had helped him at the DoM, some of the former DA members and of course his former teammates of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Harry sighed and straightened up again, relaxation time was over and it was time for him to go through the next book of the large stack that was next to him. What he picked up from the top however was not a book no it was a scroll of some kind. Now this was not the first scroll he had encountered in the library so it was really not that surprising, but what was surprising was how the scroll looked and felt; firstly he was pretty sure that what he was holding was not parchment, the scroll was also a lot more ornate than the normal rolled up pieces of parchment he had read through earlier. There was also something strange about the scroll he was holding it was emitting some kind of power. It was akin to magic, but it was definitely different.

This definitely exited the seventeen year old wizard. Some kind of (supernatural) power that was not magic could he finally have found some hints as to what the power he knows not is?

His excitement however quickly died down when he opened the scroll and he had not the faintest idea what he was looking at. They weren't runes of that he was pretty sure, but what the hell could those thing mean and more importantly could they be helpful in his fight against Voldemort?

Any rational thought however was suddenly cut off when Harry felt a blinding pain in his eyes. That pain was the last thing Harry knew before he suddenly lost consciousness.

Harry was awoken a unknown amount of time later when a smell filled his nose that almost made him retch. It was a smell that he had only smelled once before; it was the same stench of burned flesh he had smelled after the first task of the Tri-wizard tournament only this time it smelled much worse.

The next sensation that filled Harry's still somewhat dazed mind was cold gust of wind that made it painfully clear he was no longer inside.

A groan of discontent came from him as soon as his other senses started to filter in information to his brain. He was lying in the mud … he was lying outside in the mud … he was lying outside in the mud while the stench of burned flesh filled his nose … what the hell had happened?

After slowly raising his head he didn't spot anyone nearby so he quickly stood up and pulled his wand from his pocket … or at least that was the plan. Instead of actually pulling his wand he had frozen up in shock when he had taken a closer look on his surroundings. Not only was the village he was in clearly destroyed by something or someone, but it also looked like it came straight from one of his primary school's history books.

''Where in the name of Merlin did I end up this time?'' Harry muttered after several moment of being in complete shock.