HP:a Nord in Hogwarts

'Is it perhaps a weapon?' 

The next moment a violent explosion erupted from the object, sending fragments of it into my flesh and ringing in my ears much too loud for comfort. Making me stumble back and collapsing on the cool snow. 

... 

"Fuck" 

Yes, fuck indeed, and if I hadn't just gotten a grenade to the face, I might have wondered when I started using words like 'fuck' and 'shit', as it is, it went unnoticed. 

"Note to myself, when the enemy does something with an unknown object before his death, take a fucking step back from it" 

I take a look at my body, now bleeding from dozens of holes all over, most of it directly in my torso. 

Slightly stumbling, I make my way to the backpack, rip open a compartment, and take the health potion out of it. My hands, shaking, fail to open the flask, so I just smash the neck, ignoring the sharp edges of the glass cutting my lips as I down the content, letting out a content sigh as I feel the potion take effect, pushing the foreign objects out of my wounds and closing them. 

"a single day as a child and I already almost died. This wouldn't even have slowed me down if I still was in my own body" 

Well, the good part about it all was that I would get there on my own again, even if I did nothing at all. Such are the ways of growing up. Provided I survived, naturally. 

I made my way to one of the corpses, and grab one of those weapons they used. 

It was... strange 

It reminded me a bit of the Dwemer constructs, with all the different parts and the hollow metal pipe at one end, but much smaller and less steam. 

It was made from blackened steel and wood, but I had no idea how to use it. 

'They held it similar to a crossbow, didn't they?' 

Trying it out, I still had no idea how to use it. I didn't ever use a crossbow either, only seen some during my time at the Dawnguard. Never was much of a guy to stay behind and fire pointy sticks into my enemies, I like to get up close and personal. 

The mysterious weapon set aside for the moment; it was high time I made myself scarce. The last of the bandits probably called for more of his ilk, and I had no reason to waste more potions on a fight right now. 

I fastened my backpack, keeping the sword on hand for now, and went into the opposite direction from where the bandits came from. 

Not before taking the pouch with the rest of those exploding contraptions with me though. They seemed like a lot of fun—if you weren't on the receiving end. And I fully intended to be the one gifting them. 

—__—__—__—__—__—__—__—__—__—__—__—__—__— 

The good mood I sported after acquiring a new toy didn't last long. 

For the most part, that was because whoever these people were, they did not intend on letting me go. 

I had been running for only a short time when I started hearing shouts from my right, shouts which no doubt belonged to the comrades of the men I killed earlier. Changing direction didn't help much, as not much later I started hearing them from what now was Infront of me, the other group still hot on my trail from behind. 

When for the fifth time I changed directions only to once again find myself running directly into another group, I had to face the facts: I was surrounded. 

They were much more numerous, better organized and spread out than any bandit group I had ever seen. Know how to hold a grudge too as it seems. A clear mistake on my part to assume everything to be as I knew them when these lands are clearly very different from the Skyrim I called home until now. 

'Well, so be it. Mistakes were made, and now I'm going to make it everyone's problem' 

If I had to fight, then I'd rather attack them before the groups can merge into one larger one. 

Choosing a direction at random, I run towards the voices. Sword in hand and power waiting to burst from my lips. 

The first enemy came into sight. He clearly didn't expect to see me running up to him and I didn't give him any opportunity to react either, my sword cut through neck and spine, severing the head without me even stopping. Already running to the next victim. 

Another one falls, unable to respond, but I knew it would not be long until one does. 

Soon the enemies had recovered from the initial surprise that came from having such fierce resistance from a child. The forest was once again disturbed by the sound of thunder echoing through it. And I once again bled. 

Another swing of my sword, blood paints the snowy forest red like falling leaves in autumn and another enemy falls. 

A group of them round some boulders, weapons pointing at me as thunder echoes. 

"KREN VAAZ AL" 

Their bodies and the surrounding woodland get ripped apart as if torn by an invisible force, nothing but destruction and blood remains. 

I continue running, searching for a gap in the large encirclement, for a weakness, a place to break through. 

Another one of the exploding weapons gets thrown towards me, but I simply return it to the sender before it even lands. 

"FUS" 

The weapon flies back over the stone it came from, yelling and a loud bang giving me a grim satisfaction. 

The fight goes on, neither side willing to give up, and neither able to get the upper hand. I was much stronger, but for every one that fell, a dozen more would be there to take his spot. 

Pulling my sword out of another felled enemies' chest, I take a moment to gather my breath and look around. Nothing was moving. 

I had no doubt I'd be beset by more in moments, but right now, I had a much-needed moment of respite. 

I drank another Health potion, my third today, and a stamina potion right after. 

I still had some more, but not nearly as much as I'd like. The bandits didn't have any either, if they even were bandits. 

I was not so sure about their identity anymore. At least I'd never seen bandits with such discipline and willingness to fight to the bitter end without much potential plunder to rob. 

Most importantly, all of them wore more or less the same garments and used the same weapons. Something I had only ever seen with guards and soldiers who got their armaments from the yarl or they served or the empire respectively. 

"Did I accidentally start a damn invasion?" 

'I probably did, didn't I' 

Another thunderclap echoed, and pain erupt from my shoulder. I whip my head around to the source of the noise, but there's nothing there. 

"What the..." 

Another thunderclap, whatever those weapons shot whizzed past my head close enough to take a few strands of hair with it. This time, I saw the shooter. 

He was hundreds of meters away. Much farther than any crossbowman or archer I ever met could accurately hit, and lay prone on his elevated position from where he could easily find me in the lush, snowy forest. 

With him was another man, carrying one of those boxes they use for communication, no doubt giving away my position to countless more enemies already on their way here. 

"...Fuck" 

This is going to be a long day 

—__—__—__—__—__—__—_—__—__—__—__—__—__— 

(POV Grigor Morozov) 

Grigor was not having a good day. 

He was supposed to have a great day... originally. 

That was when he was preparing to finally leave his office for a few weeks, and enjoy his well-earned holiday at some beach in Hawaii by today's evening. 

It was all planned since months prior, and he made sure to finish all open cases or give them to his colleagues if necessary. 

So why in Merlin's name did something like this have to happen now of all times. 

A few Minutes ago, one of their Agents in the USSR's red army, positioned there exactly for cases like this one, informed them of a strange report from one of their Military bases in Sibiria. 

Apparently, the armed forces stationed there came in contact with, of all things to find in the middle of hells frozen ass, a child. 

A child who promptly began to massacre the aforementioned forces, displaying "superhuman capabilities" and "supernatural powers" ... 

In other words, a mage began a personal crusade against the local Muggles and as an Auror it was his job to deal with it. 

But WHY, off all times, did it have to happen today. The ONE day where he wanted to clock out on time to catch his portkey to the warm, beautiful south. 

"Merlin... it will take forever to apprehend the mage, obliviate every muggle involved up the entire chain of command, and deal with this. And then there was the Paperwork... so much paperwork" 

As Grigor's thoughts spiraled down darker and darker paths at the thought of having to do paperwork when he should be enjoying the sun on the Beach, he finally found the place where the mage was spotted. 

It took him a while to find it, as the informant didn't know the exact place, but now that he was here it was unmistakable. 

Bodies of Soldiers where strown across the forest. Some died due to... creative causes, ripped apart, scorched or otherwise disfigured in ways that clearly had to be achieved using magic. 

Most however where apparently slashed. 

'One very enthusiastic user of the Sectumsempra curse perhaps?' 

Following the trail of bodies, the Auror soon heard signs of ongoing fighting. 

Sounds of gunfire, soon screams of people dying and commanders giving orders. All coming from the other side of a small hill, barely more than a large pile of dirt really. 

As he made his way to the top, he finally got to see a glimpse of the Rouge Mage, and he was More than just surprised at what he saw. 

Now what he expected was a mage, perhaps under some illusion to look like a child, waving around his wand and killing the soldiers. 

To not get killed himself he would obviously need to simultaneously put up a shield for the bullets. 

To do both at once he had to be fairly capable, and no child would be able to do so, even less for what should be about two hours or more by now. 

What he would never have guessed to see, was a young child, carrying a large backpack with all sorts of oddities, running from Soldier to soldier. Slicing, hacking and piercing through them as if their flesh was nothing but thin paper. 

The boy was covered in ethereal, blue golden glowing scales and horns. Their make eluding the Seasoned Auror but they gave him an odd feeling of danger. 

"GAAN LAH HAAS" 

Suddenly a shout broke through the tumult of the fighting. Its words Reverberateing through every soul present, stirring something deep inside each of them, something they instinctively knew should not be stirred my mortals. Those directly affected by it seemingly shriveling to a husk in mere moments. 

The sight, and more so the feeling sent chills down Grigor's spine. 

As he continued watching, the child proceeds to slaughter the entire group of soldiers present, and he had to make a decision soon. 

To attempt to mediate, or apprehend. 

In the end no matter what he had to decide fast, before the boy disappeared into the woods again. Normally it would be a simple decision. He broke the statue of secrecy, and thus must atleast be taken in for questioning. 

That was under normal circumstances. This however seemed to truly be a child, and his magic was odd. No wands where used, and it gave off a feeling he could just not accurately place. 

He would argue how the unusual magic could mean the child was not familiar with the wider wizard community, but foremost; he did not want to risk his own life. 

And that magic did NOT give him a good feeling, thus, deciding to trust in his instincts built up in during decades of service as an Auror, he'd rather not take a risk here. 

Slowly making his way down the small hill, not even trying to hide himself as he walked over to the boy, it did not take long until he was noticed. 

"Are you also part of this group here" The boy shouted over to him, giving him pause for a second. 

'English?' 

The Boy was one Surprise after another, first strange magic, now speaking English in the middle of Sibiria. Well, even if he weren't fluid in the Language, there was magic for such mundane Problems. As it was, that was not necessary though. 

"I am not, they belonged to the local military base of the red army, while am a senior auror of the Russian Ministerium of Magic. Grigor Morozov is the name" he said with a bit of pride. Senior auror was not a title given to just anyone. 

Although it also came with some demerits, such as this time where they sent him thinking it was better to send an experienced and strong individual to deal with such a violent case. 

"But enough of me for now, where are you from exactly and what happened here" He tried his best to make the question sound not too harsh. No need to start conflict now that the bundle of mass murder in the body of a small boy was willing to cooperate. 

"I Hail from Skyrim, the home of the true Nords. What happened was they tried to rob me, or at least I think so as I didn't understand a word they said. They attacked and I defended." 

"..." 

'Well, at least he didn't just kill them on a whim, or so he claims. it brought a surprising amount of relief to Grigor to hear that. It would make things much easier from here on out. He never heard of a Skyrim however. 

For a few moments both sides stood there in silence, both having thoughts of utmost importance to mull about 

(Balder POV) 

'I don't have enough mead for this shit, why didn't I take more mead with me' 

(Grigor POV) 

Well, one of them had important things to mull about, and a potentially genius idea that was slowly taking form. 

'He speaks English... and the place he is from is unknown' 

He takes another look at the boy; the cloths had holes and bloodstains, no doubt caused from the fight, the flesh however was unharmed, or rather healed. He had blonde hair and icy blue eyes. Neiter a common trait locally. 

And if he is not from Russia, he is not under jurisdiction of my department, and thus this entire ordeal would no longer be my problem... 

Grigor turns to the boy presenting his kindest smile "Say, do you perhaps like your tea with a bit of Milk in it" 

"What's tea?" 

"..." 

"..." 

"Never mind, come with me, I'll bring you to a temporary stay until we can bring you back to your new homeland" 

'Yea, it'll take a few days until even the paperwork is filed, more than enough time to make him a proper brit, whatever that entails. Love for tea and hate for the French, I guess? 

Whatever it may be, from now on it will be someone else's problem. Hawaii here I come. 

KREN VAAZ AL: Break Rip Destroy 

GAAN LAH HAAS: Stamina Magika Health