Chapter 23: Dremora, Aftermath And A Weasel

Previously On Playing With Magic

Leaving Snape and Quirrell to deal with the troll, we left the bathroom, heading to our respective dorms. Before splitting off at one of the corridors, Hermione whispered, "Thank you, John. You were amazing."

"I'm just glad you're okay, Hermione."

Soon enough, I was back in my bed, allowing sleep to tame me to dreamland.

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Chapter 23: Dremora, Aftermath And A Weasel

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1 November, 1991 - Friday

Jonathan Grey

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The next morning, I decided to switch up my routine. Instead of my usual morning cardio, I opted for something more intense and focused. I stood in a secluded part of one of my enchanted briefcases, which I had created just for sparing. The magically created balls of sunlight spread out around the gym, brightening the room around me as I put my hand wraps on.

With a deep breath, I conjured a [Dremora Lord] a few feet away from me. Unlike the game, the fearsome and imposing Daedric warrior appeared with a ghostly demonic appearance instead of the more realistic, powerful and imposing figure from the plains of Oblivion. I assumed it was because I didn't actually have a link to the Elder Scrolls' Oblivion plane, so I couldn't just bring a creature from it to this dimension. As the [Dremora Lord] materialised before me, clad in heavy spiked Daedric armour and gripping a greatsword with both hands, I was fine-tuning the spell just like I did for the [Spectral Wolf], making it look less ghostly and improving its durability.

"A challenger is near!"

It seems like some things stayed the same. Luckily, Conjuration connects the caster's mind with that of the summon, so if that gets annoying or I find myself sneaking around, I can just shut him up.

Ignoring one of the signature Skyrim phrases, I conjured a [Bound GreatSword] of my own and readied myself. Though, mine was conjured to fit my size, so the Dremora Lord would still have the reach advantage.

Quickly sizing up my opponent, I made a quick analysis. The [Dremora Lord] was tall, really tall, at least compared to my eleven-year-old ass. I would estimate it was six and a half feet tall, easily towering over me, and it was also very muscular, which only added to its intimidating presence. It's skin now dark blue, slightly transparent skin instead of the normal dark, reddish-black I was used to seeing on screen. But the eyes stayed the same, glowing red with malevolence. Its facial features are sharp and angular, with curved horns protruding from its foreheads with its hair falling around it, adding to its demonic appearance. 

Putting its appearance aside, I focused on the fight. With a thought, the Dremora wasted no time, lunging forward with a powerful stab aimed directly at my chest. As I sidestepped out of the way, the Deadra changed the direction of its sword, aiming to slash my chest open. Raising my [Bound Sword], I swiftly redirected the greatsword's path with my own, using the momentum to pivot and position myself for the next move.

I took the momentary lapse in action to cast [Dragon Body] on myself, a spell I had created from improving the [Dragonhide] spell. I first started by changing the body part the spell works on, changing the spell to affect the bones of the caster and calling it [Dragonbone]. Then changing the spell to affect the muscles, calling it [Dragon Muscle]. Where the [Dragonhide] multiplies the durability of the caster's skin by around five times its normal state, [Dragon Body] multiplies the caster's durability by around five times as a whole, skin, bone, muscle, everything. I much rather this version of the spell than the way it was portrayed in the game, only reducing physical damage by 80%. 

The Dremora snarled, not wasting a moment as it followed up with a horizontal slash aimed at separating my head from my body. I wasn't as worried about injury as I was a few seconds ago, but I didn't feel like testing my new and improved durability with decapitation. With a fluid motion, I tilted my head just enough to avoid the blade, [Bound GreatSword] once again, meeting the Dremora's greatsword and deflecting it to the side much easier than I did the first time. One of the benefits of the Dragon body, it also grants a degree of increased strength due to the increase in durability of the muscles, along with better balance, and control.

"I honour my lord, by destroying you!"

I couldn't help but deadpan, "I am your lord."

The Dremora Lord took a strong step forward and swung its greatsword downward in a powerful arc, intending to crush me with sheer brute force. Anticipating the move, I jumped back, putting a safe distance between myself and the deadly blade. The greatsword struck the ground with a resounding crash, sending up a spray of shattered chunks of wood. My eyes never left my opponent, even as I landed gracefully. The Dremora Lord straightened, readying itself for another attack. Unlike normal people, it didn't get tired, nor did it need food, only magic.

Tightening my grip on my weapon, I added an extra layer of protection in the form of [Bound Armour], just in case. Much like I did with my other Conjurations, I added the same improvements on the spell to increase its durability, making it less ethereal.

Once again, the Dremora lunged at me, but this time I met its attack head-on, our blades clashing with a flash of magical sparks. Unlike the Viking-like moves I expected once I assimilated the character, it seemed that the Dragonborn fought like a legitimate knight based on the way I moved and how my mind was processing how counters. I still had ways to fight 'unfairly', but when you're fighting Draugr, Vampires, Werewolves and Dragons all the time, I could see why. I'd rather be a warrior who does whatever is needed to survive and save my loved ones than a knight who always fights fair only to end up miserable.

As we continued our deadly dance of death, I couldn't help but smile as the adrenaline flowed through my veins. It was exhilarating.

The Dremora was fast, fast enough to take on top-tier human knights. It was like having my own conjurable Arthur Dayne whenever I wanted, an Arthur Dayne that has no qualms with cheating. But I was able to Stand my ground, [Dragon Body] elevating my body to make up for my lack of size and natural strength. I would have been struck dead a dozen times over as its unrelenting attack, the tip of its great sword becoming little more than a blur of movement. If it wasn't for my eyes slowly adapting in the fight, I would have to focus on its hands moving in order to guess where the blade was going.

It may have unlimited stamina, but not only did I have a spell to compensate for that fact, but I was also stronger, faster, and deadlier. Its only advantage was its reach.

As I found myself under a renewed assault, I came to realise its new pattern was like something I had seen before, indicating that the version of the Dragonborn had definitely fought this creature before, continuously, to the point of memorising its moves. The blade of the sword from side to side, attempting to vanish and reappear with each attack, targeting any gaps it could find in my [Bound Armour] with deadly accuracy.

Continuing the deadly dance, I consistently closed the distance between us to land superficial strikes, while the Dremora desperately tried to back up and maintain it. Its footing was stable and balanced, even when it wasn't, it would regain its footing rather quickly.

Based on its eye movements alone, it seemed keenly aware of everything around it. Sometimes taking quick glances around, as if expecting me to throw a spell or try to push it into a trap of some kind. But it need not worry, this was a sword fight, it would be too easy otherwise.

Several minutes into the fight, and my sword had already made several precise cuts in the vulnerable areas of the armour, carving away at its life as I did so. I may have missed the mark a few times, but the fight went on long enough for me to improve with each attack, so it hardly mattered.

Several beads of sweat rolled down my forehead, but even then, fatigue hadn't truly set yet. Knowing I would have to be in class soon, I decided to end it here for now. After a few more attacks, the Dremora was one block too slow, allowing my blade to find its way across its throat. Payback for trying to decapitate me when we started. Now that I think about it, it really should be wearing a helmet.

The spar was unlike anything I could think of, like playing a game in ultra-realistic VR, with the added fact that you could die, and I found myself enjoying it. No wonder badasses like Goku just like fighting all the time.

After taking a few moments to catch my breath, I cast [Respite] for good measure to regain my stamina before heading towards the exit of the briefcase for breakfast, while casting a [Reparo] at the floor to fix the damage caused by the match as I did so l.

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Draco Malfoy

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As the day wore on, Draco walked briskly down one such corridor, flanked by his usual companions, Crabbe and Goyle. His face was twisted into a scowl as he voiced his frustrations. "I just don't get it," He fumed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Grey gets special treatment even though he's a mudblood. It's infuriating! And on top of that, Father basically told me he's off-limits. 'His intelligence can be useful', he said. Can you believe it? He didn't even say something like that about Potter."

"And now there is that stupid rumour about him facing a troll of all things. Yet another thing that's only going to go to his head, we should have gotten him earlier when we had the chance." Draco glanced at his companions, expecting some kind of reaction or agreement, but was met with the sight of both boys stuffing their faces with pastries they had likely pilfered from the table during lunch. Goyle was halfway through a pumpkin pasty, and Crabbe munching on a large chocolate frog.

 "Have you two even been listening?" Draco's he snapped, scowl deepening as he realised his… minions weren't even paying attention. 

"Huh?" Goyle answered for the two, as they both looked away from their food as they walked

Sighing in exasperation, Draco turned his gaze behind them. It was then that he noticed Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini walking a short distance away, engrossed in their own conversation. Something he would have noticed earlier if it wasn't for their footsteps weren't drowned out by the sound of enthusiastic chewing. Nott's face was impassive as usual, while Zabini's expression was one of casual curiosity as they discussed something in low tones.

Draco frowned slightly, feeling annoyance at the sight. Nott and Zabini were always somewhat aloof, keeping to themselves more often than not. Their apparent disinterest in anything interesting only added to his irritation. He wasn't surprised they were sticking close, though. His godfather had already advised them all to do so at all times in order to avoid any complications that may occur, or, at the very least, have an alibi and proof of innocence should false claims be made against them.

"Why is everyone so useless today?" Draco muttered under his breath, casting a final glance back at Nott and Zabini before continuing down the corridor, his mood fouler than ever. Draco couldn't shake the feeling of being isolated, even among his own housemates. They just couldn't see it. The growing attention Grey was getting, the fact that the other mudblood was getting first place in almost all their classes. Purebloods were slowly getting pushed aside, being treated as inferior, by teachers of all people, like they didn't matter. The mudbloods shouldn't even be in the school to begin with.

And then there was his father's cryptic warning, which only further frustrated him. Of all the people he thought would agree with him, even he could not see it either. It was clearly the start of something big, and only Draco could see it. It was only a matter of time before they started trying to take their positions of power in politics, and yet no one was willing to put a stop to it. Madness 

As Draco, Goyle, and Crabbe turned the corner, they came face to face with Johnathan Grey himself, casually strutting in their direction. Draco's instinctive reaction was to frown, seeing the personification of his irritation right in front of him, but he quickly masked it with a neutral expression, recalling his father's stern advice to avoid any confrontation for now. As they neared each other, Draco stopped and forced a polite smile.

"Well met, Grey," Draco greeted, his tone cordial, prompting a surprised look from his companions as they continued to chew on their food, perfectly fine with just observing what was happening. Noticing Grey's look towards them, Draco gestured toward the two boys, "I don't think you've been formally introduced to my friends."

"This is Goyle," he said, indicating the larger boy who was still trying to finish his pastry, crumbs clinging to the corners of his mouth. "And this is Crabbe," he continued, pointing to the slightly shorter, stockier boy who had just managed to swallow the last of his chocolate frog. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy"

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Jonathan Grey

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I was surprised I managed to get through most of the day without anyone bringing up the troll fight from the previous night. In the morning, I simply told Padma and Terry that I went to get Hermione and we made our way back to our dorms, which seemed to mollify them. I didn't see the need to mention the fact that we came into contact with the troll, or that I defeated it for that matter, so they didn't push the matter. I attended classes with no issues. It was when I made it to the Great Hall for lunch that I noticed the buzz of conversation around me seemed more animated than usual, and more than a few people were pointing and whispering than usual.

That was when I was bombarded with questions, about how I should have told them or asked for their help and the specifics of the whole situation. Most didn't believe it though, not that I cared. I was more focused on the neatly dressed person that walked in with Hagrid through the side door, wanting to speak with Dumbledore.

From the way he was dressed, I would assume he was from the D.M.L.E. wanting to talk about the whole troll incident. What surprised me, though, was that they didn't ask to speak to me personally. That was just poor investigative work. Even the children sitting next to me were better detectives than they were, asking the person who was an actual witness to the troll incident questions to get a better understanding of what happened.

When I asked how they found out about the incident in the first place, doubting Hermione would go running her mouth to the entire school, I was told that it was actually the paintings that were spreading the news around the school. Now everyone knows. 

After lunch, I left for some quiet study time in the Room of Requirement. With the first tutoring session with Daphne coming up tomorrow, I wanted to sift through some more books on anything and everything I didn't already know. As I walked down the corridor, I came face to face with the weasel himself, Malfoy. Though, unlike the start of the year, when I would simply turn invisible in order not to hurt them every time we met, just because they couldn't help but piss me off. I just kept walking, knowing they had backed off for a while now.

"Well met, Grey," Draco greeted.

It really wasn't. Immediately using [Observe], I was informed that he was only here talking to me like this because his father told him I was off limits and only really wanted to use me. The thing is, I already had a way to get forbidden books, so I didn't need him in return. The only thing he could give me that I actually needed would be the Diary Horcrux, but that would require me to put up with his company. Yeah, no.

"I don't think you've been formally introduced to my friends."

I don't think he even realised how disingenuous he sounded when he said the word 'friend'...and by the looks of it, either Crabbe and Goyle were used to it, which would be just sad if that was the case, or they were not aware enough to realise.

"This is Goyle," Draco said, indicating the larger boy with a mouth full of food, and crumbs all over his face. "And this is Crabbe," the weasel continued, pointing to the slightly shorter and… bigger boy with chocolate all over his face. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy"

He said the thing. Now I just need to get him to say, 'My father will hear about this', and I should have all the Malfoy achievements.

I met Draco's gaze steadily, with a bored expression. "I know who you are, Draco. You were one of the ones trying to 'teach me my place' a few weeks ago."

Draco's polite facade faltered for a moment, a flicker of something—irritation, perhaps—crossing his features. He quickly regained his composure, though. "Yes, well, things have changed, haven't they?" he said smoothly. "I have developed a different perspective now."

John raised an eyebrow. "That sounds to me like you had a conversation with your father, if anything. The thing I never understood about people like yourself, was always the fact that you guys seem to focus more on not liking muggle-borns than being resourceful and trying to get muggle-borns to help you do things that you either don't want to do or aren't able to do."

"Do you even know why you don't like muggle-borns?"

Draco frowned, "They think they have the right to change everything in our society even though they only just got here. Take Samhain, for example, instead of honouring the day as we do, its name is changed to 'Halloween' and no longer treated as a day we can complete rituals we would have only a century ago. How would you like it if I came to your home and tried to change everything because I thought I knew better?"

Huh, that was actually a good point. I always thought he was just a dick, but that sounded like he had at least thought about it a little. Then again, he could just be regurgitating the same things his father had said before, so I won't give him all the credit just yet. "So, your plan is to insult and belittle muggle-borns to the best of your ability. Instead of, you know, telling them why things are the way they are."

Draco hesitated, clearly uncomfortable discussing the matter. "Let's just say none of you lot would listen anyway."

"Because you go around calling people you don't like 'mudbloods' and 'blood traitors'...and chase people through corridors so you can 'teach them a lesson'." I calmly interjected. As we continued to speak, I noticed the other two boys, Nott and Zabini, listening in instead of continuing towards their next lesson.

With a clench of his jaw, Draco powered through, neither acknowledging nor disproving my words. "I think we should start over then. As you must have noticed, I haven't been a problem for you since then and plan to keep it that way."

That would be because he was told not to, not because he suddenly had an epiphany. Honestly, at this point, it didn't really matter. One less irritation is still one less irritation. I nodded, "Time will tell, I suppose. You'll have to forgive my lack of trust, based on the previous things you've said. But, let's hope your words are true." 

It wasn't quite the alliance he was hoping for when he approached, but I wasn't antagonistic towards him. Leaving room for possible cooperation in the future. That's how Slytherin students are supposed to behave, not the unnecessarily childish behaviour he showed in the movies…and now I just remembered he's eleven. 

"I'll be seeing you around, Grey." Draco gave a curt nod

With a nod of my own, signalling the end of the conversation, I continued on my way. There were books to memorise with my photographic memory, and so little time.

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"A challenger is near!"

— Dremora Lord, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

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Author Here

Would you look at that? Our boy knows how to fight-fight…still a nerd, though. Then he goes and has a conversation with a weasel. It's difficult to deceive a person with the Observe ability…or a person you constantly tried to chase down and beat up, for that matter. But you miss all the shots you don't take, I guess.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OC and original ideas. All credit goes to their respective owners.

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Thank you for reading.

As always, stay awesome.

Until next time.