Author's Note: I know, I know. I should be working on my Legacy stories but, this one has been running in my head for years. After finally finding the time. I sat down and finally wrote up(by hand) a rough draft. I showed it to some friends and they liked it so much they demanded that I continue with this regardless of my schedule.

I will point out that this IS a crossover with the Elder Scrolls, however, I just published it as a regular Harry Potter fic cuz I'm too lazy.

Hope you enjoy!


Disclaimer: All characters, ideas, names and terminology belong to their respective owners.

Chapter 1: Prince

Diagon Alley-Ollivanders Wand Shop

Lily Potter tried to put the sense of apprehension that had settled on her aside however, she just couldn't help but feel discomforted in this shop. Not that there was anything wrong with Ollivanders Wand Shop.

It was just that the old man who ran the shop always unsettled her. Of course, it's not like he was an unpleasant individual or anything. Quite the opposite in fact. He was very kind and patient man who did his best for his customers. It was just the eldritch presence the man had that put her on edge.

She hugged her arms as a shiver wracked her body.

A warm touch settled on her shoulder and she looked over to peer into a pair of kind chocolate eyes. "You all right there Lils?" Her husband asked with a minor frown. She smiled back at him. James had changed a great deal since their days in Hogwarts. Gone was his brash and cocky attitude. He was now a fully devoted husband and father who always put thoughts of his family first.

"I'm fine. Just remembering the time I first came in to get a wand." She said quietly.

James chuckled beside her. "Yeah, I remember when I came to get mine as well. Nearly had a heart attack when Ollivander came out of nowhere from behind. Practically jumped right into my dad's arms. He never let me live it down."

She laughed with him and together they returned their attention to their daughter who just put down another wand. Iris Potter was the spitting image of her mother. Lily only wished that Iris had also inherited her eyes. Suddenly. The smile on lily's face disappeared when an image of a dark haired young man with startling green eyes flashed through her mind.

She tried to focus on the image but, the harder she tried the more difficult it became to remember. Her mind fogged over and she couldn't remember what she was doing. She blinked away the sudden daze and realized that Ollivander had left them and gone into the back of his shop.

"What if I can't find a wand," a timid voice came from in front of her.

Lily looked down to see an apprehensive and nervous Iris shuffle before her. Iris was a darling girl. She was quiet to a fault and extremely well-mannered. Thoughtful, kind and very shy around new people, her daughter was the apple of her eye and the joy of her life. It crushed Lily to know that her beloved daughter was tied by fate to a murdering madman.

How she cursed the day that Dumbledore came to the Potter's household in Godric's Hollow ten years ago and informed them of the prophecy that fraud of a seer gave. It was that damnable prophecy that drew Voldemort's wrath down on her family and had cost them any semblance of a normal life.

"Don't worry sweetheart," James said kindly from next to her. "I'm one hundred percent sure your wand is here somewhere. Mister Ollivander just has to find it for you. "

"But-but what if I'm not good enough for any of these wands." Iris said forlornly.

"Nonsense," James scoffed. "You're a Potter. If anything, these wands aren't good enough for you."

"Ah, but it isn't about being good enough Mister Potter," a voice called out causing all of them to jump. "Oh no, a wand must properly feel matched to its wielder."

As one they all turned to look at the wand crafter as he carried with him a single box and laid it out on the sales counter. "Let's try this one shall we Miss Potter? Eleven and a half inches. Holly and phoenix feather. Very supple." Ollivander said with strange gleam in his eye.

Lily was suddenly hit with the urge to grab Iris in her arms and make a run for it for some strange reason. She watched in dread as Iris took a hold of the wand and waited for the rush of magic that was sure to happen.

Problem was, the magic never came.

Iris looked down on the wand with a small frown and said, "I feel…something…but it's like a small tug. Nothing big."

"I was so sure," Ollivander muttered disappointedly. Lily on the other hand, let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding in. For one reason or another, that wand gave her a very unpleasant sensation.

Lily looked towards the pile of wands that was laid out on the counter and wondered if Iris had broken some sort of record. In an abrupt bout of curiosity she asked, "What is the longest you've ever taken to find the right wand for someone, Mister Ollivander?"

The old man looked up at her surprise before waving his hand dismissively. "Oh I can assure, your daughter doesn't even fall on the list of longest time I've spent looking for a matching pair. I remember nearly thirty years ago I had a young muggleborn lad come into my shop. Took me four days to match him up!"

"Four days!" James exclaimed incredulously. "Must have been one hell of a wand."

Ollivander nodded his head before falling into silence. Then, he looked at Iris with a curious gaze. "Perhaps…yes…just maybe," he muttered to himself. Lily once again felt the anxiety crawl back into her chest as Ollivander looked back and forth from her daughter to the back of the shop, conspiratorially.

He rushed into the rear of his shop and hurriedly returned with another box. As he laid the box down, he took out a sleek brown wand with near holy reverence. "Why not," he said. "Give this one a wave why don't you." He said with a wide grin.

Iris took hold of the wand and there a rush of magic that ran through the small store as the wand let out a shower of silver sparks. Iris's look of joy at finally finding her wand was only surpassed by the absolutely positive look of delight on Ollivander's face. The man looked like he was about to start jumping up and down in joy, if the way he was squirming was any indication to go by.

"Marvelous, absolutely marvelous! And entirely unexpected if not amusing!" The wand crafter said with glee.

"Any particular reason it's unexpected, or amusing for that matter," Lily asked tentatively.

Ollivander smiled at her and then returned his attention to Iris. "I've remembered every single wand I've ever sold Miss Iris Potter. Yours is twelve inches of Holly and a single dragon heartstring. An Artic Steelwing to be precise."

From next to her, James let out an appreciative whistle. Both mother and daughter looked towards him with curios glances. When he didn't say anything, Lily nudged him with her elbow. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "It's just that Steelwings are a rather infamous breed. They have the hardest hide of any species of dragon and are considered some of the most vicious and violent creatures to ever exist."

Iris looked at her wand with new appreciation. Lily on the other hand, didn't like the idea of her daughter associated with form of viciousness or violence, thank you very much. "Indeed Mister Potter however, the reason I find that you are destined for that wand is well, as I said, I remember every wand I've sold."

Lily wasn't quite happy about how Ollivander's voice became eerily quiet and how the wand crafter peered down into her daughter's eyes. "The particular dragon which your wand's core originated from, gave one other sample. Just. One. Other."

The old man leaned back and in a grave voice and said, "And how well I remember that wand. Thirteen inches. Elder wood. Tremendously powerful wand meant for channeling raw power in a brutal fashion. Much like the dragon it derives its magic from. You see Miss Potter, it's both unexpected and amusing for me because the brother of your wand…rests in the hand of your brother."

Potter Manor

That night, Lily Potter awoke from a terrifying nightmare. Carefully she lifted the sheets off of her as to not wake James. Grabbing her robe from on the nightstand, she tightly wrapped it around her body and walked out of her bedroom.

It wasn't unusual for her to have nightmares. She's been having the same one over and over again since that Halloween night ten years ago. The night that ruined everything for her family. The one that thrust a terrible burden on her daughter and put their small family out on the lime light.

But this night it was different. Yes, she saw Voldemort telling her to stand aside. Yes, she saw herself pleading with that monster to spare her daughter. She, even remembered watching from under the part of the ceiling that had collapsed on her as the Dark Lord strode cast the unforgivable curse.

Yet, this time, she also saw something she didn't remember seeing before. She remembered as the flash of green light draw itself into an equally vibrant pair of green eyes. Green eyes that morphed into a staunch grey that robbed the world of all color and seemed to drown out all form of emotion.

Lily's hand fell on a doorknob and gently, she twisted it. Quietly pushing open the door, she peeked inside, as to not awake the occupant of the room, who no doubt, was sleeping at this hour. But what she saw surprised her. The room was completely spartan, without any form of decoration or decorum, save for a simple writing desk and several bookshelves neatly lined and filled with numerous works. But what really caught her attention, was the perfectly made bed that lay in the middle of the room. The perfectly made bed…that was empty.

In hoarse and broken whisper, Lily Potter said, "Where's my son?"

Vienna, Austria


Daphne Greengrass carelessly flicked her wrist, resulting in a flash of green light escaping from her wand and the man before her to crumple lifelessly to the ground. She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the sight of the filthy corpse. The minions of the minor dark wizard she was exterminating were proving to be quite the headache.

Despite the fact they were dropping like flies, there seemed to be no end to them. By her count, there were eleven dead already. She hoped her brother would hasten whatever it was he was doing. Keeping this up was getting rather tedious.

Four more wizards came barreling down the hall throwing curses at her. Their aim was so poor that she didn't even bother raising a shield. She snapped a killing curse at one of them before raising her free hand and gesturing in the direction of her attackers.

The jet of green light squarely impacted one of them in the face, causing him to fly backwards dead. As for the other three…well…from her out-stretched hands erupted tendrils of black and midnight blue energies. The shadows along the passage ways seemed to twist and come to life. Obviously quite frightened, her remaining three assailants ceased their attack and watched with fascinated horror. However, when the shadows on the ground lashed out and took hold of them, they started screaming rather frantically.

She watched dispassionately as they were dragged down into the endless cesspool of darkness.

"A little too much for simple grunts, wouldn't you say?" Said a smooth male voice from behind.

Daphne didn't even bother turning around, she did however, roll her eyes. Her brother was never one for theatrics. In fact, he was quite famous for lacking any sense of humor. "Did you find whatever it is we're looking for?" She asked somewhat impatiently.

"No," He replied. "It wasn't in the vault they had hidden away. Perhaps our host has it on him?"

Her face flashed in irritation as she turned around to glare at him. Upon finally seeing him, her annoyance at him was temporarily lost. He was quite different in appearance, when compared to her. Whereas her hair was a bright golden blonde that simmered down to her waist, his was rich ebony that neatly waved around his ears. Her eyes were a dark sapphire blue while his were a stunning and vibrant emerald. He was also taller than her and had broader shoulder. Of course, seeing on how he was a male and she female, it was a given.

"And if he doesn't?" She asked with her arms crossed and a glare balefully digging into him.

He met her dark stare with an impassive look of his own and simply shrugged his shoulders. "It's here…somewhere. My source clearly saw the stone in the hands of this parading fool."

"Your source?" She deadpanned. "You mean the poor soul who's mind you tore apart?"

He shrugged again and Daphne was suddenly filled with the urge to hit her brother over the head. Preferably with something that was rather heavy. She shook her head. For all his genius he could be such a barbarian at times.

As they made their way through the winding passageways through the lair of a small time dark lord, Daphne mused over the last year and a half of her life. She had been half way through her first year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, when her brother had 'awakened' her. While she was incredibly thankful to have returned to her former-self, she was beyond angry at the situation she had found herself in. Practically stripped of all of her former glory, Daphne was reduced to a shell of her former self.

'To think that stupid overgrown lizard managed to succeed,' she seethed.

Thankfully, her brother had been 'awakened' for many years and had slowly been building his own power. Apparently, by finding remnants of their past and absorbing them, they could gradually regain their former power. She still remembered when her brother had explained all of this to her for the first time. Suffice it to say she was thoroughly surprised that out of everyone at Hogwarts, it would be Harry Potter who was the reawakened form of one of her brothers.

As they turned a corner, they were met with two more wizards who were standing guard in front of a pair of doors. "Hör auf! Oder wir werden dich töten!" One of them barked out. Daphne grimaced. She did not speak one word of German. Which was quite the disadvantage when visiting Austria but, then again, it's not like she needed to know the language when all she was doing was killing whoever she met.

Her brother simple raised a hand and made a twisting motion. There was a sickening 'crunch' as both Austrian wizards had their necks soundly snapped back by invisible stems of magic. Not even waiting for their corpses to hit the ground, her brother motioned with two fingers, blowing the doors off their hinges and strode through the now gaping hole in the wall.

Daphne sighed. Maybe he did possess a sense of drama but just wasn't aware of it himself.

Following behind his long strides, she noted they entered what appeared to be a rather magnificent study. The room itself was quite large and the walls were covered from floor to ceiling with bookshelves. At the very end of the room, opposite of the entrance, was an ornate wooden desk and lavish chair. The chair was occupied by an elderly man completely bald at the top and with whisks of grey hair growing down his chin.

The way the man was calmly sitting with his hands folded in front of his face and appraising them with cool expression was somewhat impressive. Well, it wouldbe entirely impressive if the scene wasn't ruined by the thick oaken doors embedded into the wall on either side of him.

All in all, Daphne decided that as far as Dark Lords went, this one looked rather tame and unthreatening. "Geben sie uns den stein." Her brother said. Daphne rolled her eyes. Of course her brother spoke German. Was there anything the one who had 'taken account of everything before it had even happened' couldn't do?

Whatever he said, it had caused the old dark wizard to turn purple with anger. Daphne blinked few times. She didn't think it was healthy for someone of that age to have so many pulsing veins. "Sie schuld an meinem Eigentum? Sie töten meine Männer? Jetzt verlangen sie von mir?!" He roared.

The dark wizard leapt to his feet and drew his wand. Unfortunately for him, before he could even utter a single spell, her brother's hand shot forward and from his finger, white hot lightning arced its way through the air and hit the old wizard. He was thrown from his feet and slammed into the wall. As his body convulsed and twitched with electricity, she watched as her sibling walked forward, whipped out his wand, and said, "Legilimens."

As she watched him tear through the wizened old wizards mind, Daphne was reminded as to why she and her other siblings had feared her brother so. It wasn't just his crushing power. It was the viciousness of his mental prowess. Undoubtedly, he was the most intelligent being to come into existence. Void of emotion, his mind ran dozens upon dozens of thoughts all at once. In truth, his brain was entirely akin to that of a machine.

Merciless and ruthless in its pursuit of results; if provided with enough information, his intellect could even predict the future with terrifying accuracy. And it was that near omniscient power that drove him, ironically, insane. He had come to resent all sense of individuality and openly scoffed at the idea of uniqueness. Aptly titled, he was the Enemy of Freedom.

Returning her attention to her brother, she noticed that his victim was having a spasm on the floor while blood pooled out from his nose and ears. Letting the spell go, her brother let out a growl of obvious annoyance.

"He doesn't have it does he?" She asked with no semblance of patience.

"No," he said. His mouth twisting in displeasure. "He sold it to some contemporary of his in France…Avada Kedavra!"

Daphne scowled in frustration as the green light died down. "I don't have time to galvanize across half of Europe with you! I need to find my sister! Where ever she is, I mean."

"I'm sure she's fine. Knowing her, she's already in some deluded trance due to moon sugar or its potions equivalent."

Daphne's mouth fell open and she stared at him indignantly. She then smacked his arm as hard as she could, not very hard truthfully, and said, "Don't talk about my sister like that!"

"I didn't say a word about Astoria," he said mechanically.

Daphne smacked him again, "Our sister then!"

He raised an eyebrow and gave a questioning look. "Which one would that be? The one with a severe case of necrophilia? The one with all the fetishes for ugly things? The Queen of Self-Importance and Bitchiness? Or the perhaps you mean the one who lies so much she doesn't even believe what comes out of her own mouth?"

The way he so candidly and brazenly spoke about the others in a monotone way nearly set her off into a fit of laughter. She doubted that he was even trying to be funny. To him, they nothing more than just absolute facts, regardless of how silly his words sounded. Of course, she wasn't about to openly mock him. Siblings or not, she wasn't about to try to appeal to his tender mercies. Instead, she settled for smacking his arm once again before crossing her arms in a huff.

"You're so childish Nocturnal," he said right before he pointed his wand at a random book on the desk and muttered, "Portus."

"Oh, shut up Jyggalag."

In a flash of blue light, both Deadric Princes disappeared.

Author's Note: Ever since all those years ago the Shivering Isles expansion pack came out, I've been a huge fan of Jyggalag. I was really disappointed that he didn't make an appearance in Skyrim.

I want to point out that the Princes will be slightly out of character as in my story they are now in the event of having human souls instead of just being deadra. More clarification in the next chapter.

Azura, Molag Bal and Hermaeus Mora are all going to make appearances. Tell who else you'd like to see.

Hope You Liked and do remember this is my first attempt at Harry Potter so go easy on me.

See you next time, NEX