Harry Potter: Dragonborn comes

After defeating Waljor, the children took shelter in a cave within the cold northern mountains. Outside, the snowstorm still howled, but inside, the crackling fire and the smell of soup created a warm bubble of tranquility.

They laughed and chatted, unaware of the destiny already weaving invisible threads around them.

Then, a rock in the cave's ceiling shimmered—just for an instant—with a golden glow. It fell right onto Sofie's head.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed, clutching her head from the blow.

The surprise made her drop her bowl, spilling the soup into the fire and extinguishing it instantly. The cave was plunged into a dim darkness.

"Idiot! Be careful," said Avento, quickly approaching to check on her. With the magical protections in her clothes, it wasn't common for something to hurt her so easily.

"It was... a rock," Sofie said, a bit annoyed, rubbing her head.

"A rock hurt you?" asked Blaise, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes!" Sofie insisted, crossing her arms.

Avento conjured a small magical light with a gesture, scanning the ground until he found the stone. He picked it up carefully… and his eyes hardened.

"What is it, Avento?" asked Runa, noticing the tension in his expression.

"I don't know… but this rock has mana. And it's not normal. We need to leave."

"Also, the storm is over. We can move on," Lars added, peeking out the entrance.

"Alright, what are we waiting for? Grab your stuff," said Blaise.

They didn't take long to get ready, and soon they were descending the mountain under a cloudy sky.

…

When they reached the first village, they noticed something strange. Several people were gathered in the square, murmuring nervously.

The children approached out of curiosity, but froze in place when they heard a very familiar voice:

"Someone lied! Someone told the guard that poor Cicero did something he didn't do! They stopped us, delayed us. The Night Mother must reach the Listener! But you wouldn't know anything about that, huh? Of course not! Because then Cicero would get angry—and that would be unpleasant! Just look at Loreto… Loreto learned what unpleasant means."

The voice, loaded with mocking and dangerous madness, chilled their blood.

"Dammit, it's Cicero. We better not let him see us," whispered Blaise, motioning for them to stay quiet. "What's he doing here?"

"He went out looking for Dad when he disappeared. He carries the Night Mother on his back," explained Runa tensely.

"We're leaving through the other side," Blaise directed.

With silent movements, they backed away and took an alternate route. Fortunately, Cicero, tired of arguing with the villagers, shoved everyone aside and left the village in the opposite direction.

Had the children come down just a few minutes later, they never would have crossed paths with him.

A simple stone changed everything.

…

They had been walking for hours under a persistent drizzle. A spell kept them dry, but the mud made progress difficult. Dawn was gray and silent.

"What's that?" Lucía suddenly asked, pointing at something in the middle of the road.

A portal shimmered with an unsettling red light. Around it were animal pelts, lettuce, soul gems… An improvised shrine, no doubt made to summon something. Something powerful.

But there were no mages nearby. No one. As if the place had appeared out of nowhere.

"What if Dad went into one of these?" Sofie asked in a low voice, staring at the portal.

"It sounds ridiculous… but also very likely," Avento murmured.

"Then let's go in," Lucía proposed, stepping forward.

Runa grabbed her arm tightly. "It's dangerous. I… I don't feel anything good coming from in there."

But before they could decide, a figure emerged from the portal.

He wore an extravagant mix of colors and fabrics, as if his clothes had never heard of fashion—or good taste. His white hair and perfectly trimmed beard contrasted with a smile that looked straight out of a disturbing painting. In one hand, he held a staff of impossible shape.

Without saying a word, he gestured to them… and stepped back into the portal.

The children looked at each other, confused and afraid.

"What do we do?" whispered Blaise.

"Run," murmured Runa. Her instincts screamed at her to flee.

But then, the man's hand appeared again. He beckoned them… and vanished once more.

"Damn it… he's a Prince," Runa whispered, and they all paled.

Before they could move, the figure popped his head out of the portal again. His smile widened unnaturally.

"If you don't follow me… I will follow you. One by one. Until I catch you."

The threat wasn't shouted. It was spoken gently, but it pierced their souls like a freezing blade.

Trembling, unable to resist, the children stepped toward the portal.

One by one, they crossed the threshold. And just as the last of them disappeared, the portal closed… as if it had never existed.

…

Minutes later, a mage appeared at the site.

He carried more pelts, more lettuce, more soul gems… and this time, a basket full of cheese.

"Perfect… this time it should work!" he exclaimed excitedly, placing the items around the runic circle.

He waited.

Waited a bit more.

Nothing happened.

"What's going on? What's missing?" he muttered, flipping through his notebook in a hurry. "Pelts, lettuce, gems, cheese… that's everything the note said!"

He kicked the shrine in fury. "Damn it! I've been scammed!"

And he stormed off, frustrated.

Moments later, a hand emerged from a small portal, grabbed a piece of cheese… and vanished.

…

Meanwhile, in a place beyond time…

A divine plane, where reality seemed to be made of pure sacred light and the air vibrated with power. Columns of white marble rose into a golden sky, and the floor shimmered beneath a mosaic of ancient runes. The walls were forged from celestial gold—not crafted by mortal hands, but born from the thoughts of the gods.

At the center of the hall stood a throne of pure light, which cast no shadow.

There, sitting with a serene bearing, a man watched a great basin of water suspended in the air. On its surface danced moving images: the children, the mountain, the red portal, the chaos growing.

His armor was golden like the dawn, adorned with engravings of ancient wars. Two wings emerged from the sides of his helmet, and a cape flowed behind him despite the still air. He was the living reflection of the statues that worshipped him on Nirn.

He was Talos.

"I hope they're up to the task... If they get in trouble, I might have to go down and lend them a hand," he murmured, with a smile that couldn't quite erase the shadow of concern in his eyes.

"After all... there can't be children who don't find their father."

He paused, and his gaze turned more serious.

"I don't have the power… but he does."

As if his words summoned an immediate response, the entire hall began to tremble. The marble rumbled. The sacred lights flickered. From the ethereal horizon, a shattering roar tore through the heavens, as if the gods themselves had been challenged.

A roar only one being could utter.

Akatosh.

A dragon. Not just any dragon. The First. The Eternal. Time itself. His wings could envelop worlds, and his gaze judged empires with a mere blink. His wrath was pure fire, and his roar… destiny.

Talos frowned as he sensed his arrival.

"Hmph. I'm not your son, Akatosh. Though you gave me the blood of dragons… I became divine through my own strength."

He stood, and his figure blazed like a star about to explode.

"But… I'd better hide for a while."

With a sly smile, he vanished into millions of golden particles, as if he had never been there.

And a second later…

The ceiling exploded.

A massive golden dragon descended with force, crushing the throne of light beneath a single claw. His body looked like fire restrained by scales, and his breath was as warm as the forge of Mundus.

"TALOS, YOU IMBECILE!" roared Akatosh, his voice reverberating across planes beyond existence. "WHO TOLD YOU TO INTERFERE?!"

Flames burst from his mouth in a scorching wave, consuming columns, walls, and sky in a storm of divine destruction.

For long minutes he burned everything around him, blinded by rage, until he realized Talos was no longer there.

With one final snort that split the clouds of the divine sky, he spread his wings and rose once more into the eternal horizon.

The hall of the gods lay in ruins… but the echo of the conflict between the mightiest still lingered in the air.

And very soon…

the mortal world would feel its effects.