Disclaimer: I do not own anything about the Elder Scrolls series or Harry Potter.

All dovahzul translations are listed at the end of their respective paragraphs.

The Soul of a Dragon

Chapter 7

Dumbledore sat back in his chair. As soon as the sun had risen he had woken up to find the dark artifacts that young Harry had had on him were gone. In all honesty he wasn't surprised. At least that the items were gone. He had had a feeling the boy would come to get them.

He returned his gaze to the mirror that was flat on his desk. He watched again as Harry entered the door as a bluish white spectral figure. He took on a human appearance and a hand rose holding an orb of white mist that glowed for a moment before heading straight to the box holding the boys artifacts. After running his hands across the box for a moment the box popped open a crack. Next was what surprised the old Headmaster.

A hand slipped into the box and the other carefully tilted it this way and that. When the inserted hand withdrew it held nothing. Yet in but a moment the boy had gone from wearing solely boxers to fully dressed in his robe, gloves, boot, and undoubtedly, his many rings and amulets. The only thing missing was the mask.

The boy had spoken with the phoenix for a moment but due to the enchantments on the mirror he couldn't add a listening spell. Fawkes, unfortunately, wouldn't tell him either. The image trembled a bit as the boy spoke and then wavered as the boy once again turned into the blue/white spectral form and walked through the office door.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and thought. Harry didn't use any obvious means of a foci. He had hypothesized for a moment that the boy had one of those ring foci, very rare and near impossible to come by, much less be compatible, but his study of the jewelry had revealed no such foci among them. Entering his office clad in only underwear had offered an excellent view to see any underhanded tricks as there was very little cloth to hide behind and yet Harry had reached for nothing else save the box.

Next was how Harry had only reached a hand in and held nothing in it when he had pulled his hand out. Yet somehow the boy had managed to take out every item in the chest. Dumbledore had designed this chest himself and it was designed to only open a small amount to allow one item out at a time, thereby increasing the chance of discovery. Yet, according to his viewer, not a single item had been removed.

Finally it was that spell that was used to walk through the door to his office. If the boy had a spell like that why had he allowed himself to become solid to open the chest? Why not simply reach through? That implied limitations. Regrettably he couldn't see how the spell was cast because not only had Harry recovered and wore his attire, his back was to the mirror. Any hand movement or lip reading was now lost. The applications of the spell for both good and bad were limitless.

Fawkes was being strangely silent throughout the whole morning. No emotion nor image flowed through their bond like it normally would. He had tried asked, sending an image of Harry talking to the bird with a curious feeling, but had only gotten silence. If he looked closely it was like the phoenix had suddenly aged a hundred years. The head drooped and feathers seemed to hang down. Even the warm golden red glow the feathers gave off seemed muted somehow.

Dumbledore let out a sigh before he waved his wand and the mirror flew back to its place. Opening a drawer in his desk he started the missive to the Daily Prophet on the particulars of the Wand weighing ceremony next week.

Adraxian stood on the tallest tower he could find as just watched the sky as the sun slowly started to paint the world with color. Most specifically he was watching the sole moon which as currently a thin crescent, waning through its cycle of life.

Nirn was never this dark. With how large Masser and Secunda were, true darkness could only be found where all light was shut out, or underground. He couldn't help but stare at the foreign sight trying and failing to reconcile it in his mind. It was simply that baffling.

Eventually he sighed and turned back into the castle. Maybe now he could find the library here. It was a school right? What was a school without a library? He felt another pang of sobering homesickness. What was Serana doing right now? Tolfdir? Lydia?

His mind wandered to the jumble of information that had been compressed into his mind from the Scrolls. His right eye twitching was the only outward sign of the white hot dagger that lanced behind his eyes and the base of his skull. He'd have to tackle that problem eventually, but for now it was just time for patience as he built up his tolerance again.

His metal tolerance had gone through the roof when he had fought Potema, but that had been a combination of youthful hotheadedness and rage at the world as he had yet to come to grips with being Dragonborn.

Even the constant fight with the dragon side of him that had awakened three months prior to that incident with the attack of Alduin at Helgen was nothing like the sear that the new knowledge had given him. He also knew, though he wasn't sure how, that Hermaeus Mora would never be able to get his hands on this knowledge no matter how much the Daedra tried. He was still iffy on the specifics, be it the nature of the knowledge, unlikely, to being actively protected by the Scrolls, likely, to something else entirely.

He briefly toyed with idea of just Shouting down walls until he found the library but discarded it. Though it would be an improvement he mused as his feet took him down yet another empty hallway. Stendarr's mercy! How many hallways did one castle need?

Finally he had had enough. With a quick wave of his hand a fireball destroyed the nearest window which he prepared to jump out of. When in doubt start over.

He froze as he caught a glimmer in the corner of his eye. Turning his head to fully see he saw something he had definitely not expected. There hanging in the air was a ghost. A little more spectral and floaty that he was used to but still unmistakable.

Without conscious thought he raised a hand and shot off a Lightning Bolt and covered himself in a Shock Cloak.

To Adraxian's surprise the ghost didn't move as the spell flashed at it. But it sure did afterwards. With a scream it turned and ran/floated through the wall.

"Get back here ghost!" Adraxian roared and blew that wall out with another fireball. The corridor was empty. Silent save for the clatter of dust as it settled. "Laas!"

The color vanished from the world and life grew in shade, hue, and color. There it was. Hiding in the wall right across from him. The usual writhing mass of spectral blue was missing though. Replaced by a clam, almost serene pulse of almost the same color but still a spectral blue.

Another fireball destroyed that wall too. The ghost screamed out, "Help! Help! I'm being attacked!" As it fled, barely dodging another Lightning Bolt.

Adraxian growled as he blew apart another wall in his chase. Sending off a basic Vampire's Bane he followed the ball of sunlight towards his prey. It sunk through the floor just ahead of his and he blew it apart raining stone into the Entrance Hall below him. Well that worked out. He wanted to get back here anyways.

He felt something hit him and his arms snapped to his sides, feet slamming together. His entire body became immobile. He fell to the floor, unable to move he came to rest face down. He heard footsteps come up and pulled his magic into his hands thankfully uninhibited. When shoes came into view in the settling dust he released his own version of Mass Paralysis.

The traditional spells, the ones found in common spell books and sold in shops, were all usually basic, easy to cast. It was when you tried to personalize them and use personal spells, that magic became difficult. It was easy to cast Flames and Frostbite in each hand, but when you tried to combine them you had to concentrate so that the two opposing elements wouldn't blow up in your face. It was like with all minor spell classifications, especially the fire, ice, lightning, of destruction. Though there was some theory about adding to the spell repertoire specifically air, Whirlwind Cloak raised a lot of eyebrows in the arcane circles.

This version of Mass Paralysis he had designed to both counter immobilization, didn't work on silence, and to immobilize any would be assassin for about a minute. Needless to say that any assassins that saw his spell never lived to warn others.

His spell flew out of him in a wave of bright green light. There were a few screams from some spectators, great witnesses. The spell on him snapped off and he stood up. "Ven!" Adraxian spoke and a cyclone started up grabbing the dust and flinging it out of the way. The first thing he saw was the ghost looking dazed. He quickly ran up to it and tried to grab it. To his shock his hands went straight through the creature.

Quickly he pulled out a dagger raising an eye when he saw Kavohzein's Fang appear in his hand before tightening his grip against the ghost. "Now ghost, tell me who your creator is and shall send you to your rest."

"I-I-I-." The spirit sputtered. "N-N-No-."

"Adraxian smiled slightly, the fear was almost intoxicating his dragon side. "Now, now, no need to be scared. Tell me of your own volition and I will send you off with full rites of Arkay. Resist and I will eviscerate you. Now who is the necromancer that made you? Give me their name!"

"No necromancer made that ghost." McGonagall spoke up from just outside the circle of paralyzed students.

"That is impossible." Adraxian retorted. "Every ghost is the soul of a mortal which was bound to the plane instead of continuing to Aetherius." He pressed Kavohzein's Fang against the specter's throat. A drop of grey blood seeped out. "So I will ask one final time, who is the Necromancer?"

"I-I-I d-do-don't-" The ghost stuttered.

Adraxian's eyes narrowed. A purple film covered the ghost. "Wrong answer." And cut off its head. The body flashed white and purple streams flew into one of his pockets. The body faded into spectral ash and faded from existence.

He spun around as the spell he had cast on the students started to wear off. Picking his way through the slumping crowd he walked over to McGonagall. "Okay, where is the library here?"

What Adraxian didn't expect was for that question to start off a whole chain of events that got him sitting in front of the Headmaster again.

"So why did you kill that ghost?" Dumbledore asked.

Adraxian rolled his eyes. "I've already told you. Ghosts can only be created by a necromancer binding the soul of a mortal to mundus. Best thing to do is to kill them when you see them."

"There is no necromancer here." Dumbledore said. "The ghosts here are wizards who fear death that when they die their spirit remains instead of moving on."

"Well if I were you I would be scared to die too." Adraxian said. "Being an unclaimed soul? You'd wander Aetherius forever." Adraxian reached into his pocket and pulled out a light blue crystal. He gave it a shake and a faint white light woke from the gem. "Well, this unfortunate is about to get claimed."

"What exactly is that?" Lily Potter asked.

"This is a soul gem." Adraxian said. "That ghost wasn't too strong though so it only went into a petty gem. I then can use this to enchant or recharge."

"And what happens to the person whose soul you use?" Snape cut in coldly.

"The soul? It gets sent to the Cairn." Adraxian shrugged getting up. "Which is fortunate or unfortunate, depending on how you look at it."

"What the hell are you talking about brat?" Snape growled.

Adraxian just raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah, you are all so backwater that you have to idea about Oblivion. You use magic without regard to its origination." He stood up. "Well, I have better thing to do than to teach this backwater place about the finer points of magic." He went to the door but there was squelch and the door refused to open.

"Release me old man." Adraxian spat.

"Not until you release the ghost." Dumbledore said.

Adraxian held up the gem. "Very well then." He pulled out a black dagger and slammed the crystal into the pommel. The dagger lit up in fire, frost, and shock, due to the chaos enchantment for a single flare before the faint enchanted glow appeared stronger. "There you go. The soul in now free to roam about the Soul Cairn for eternity.

Sorry this is late everyone. I have had school pile the work on and I am currently looking at a promotion at work. But all this is really just an excuse so sorry all for being lazy.

I can promis that next chapter will be one where Adraxian will calm down, finally, and starts to make friends. Any suggestions in that corner will be appreciated. And think to all those who reviewed. They helped a lot in not forgetting about this story.

DiamondAir