Professor Dovahkiin

My vision is suddenly and unexpectedly restored. "By the Divines," I utter in an unfamiliar baritone voice. The sound of my new voice and bizarre statement causes me to ignore the feeling of having my head stuffed with cotton.

I'm not really sure if the sound of my voice is bizarre or not. It seems foreign and familiar at the same time. This must be a result of mixing thirty years as an American with twenty years of living in Tamriel.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment and try to clear my head. I can think of his later.

Refocused, I look down at myself. I'm slightly taller now and feel much more energetic. I've not felt this good in years. I can't say for sure how muscular I am, as the scaled vampire lord armor is covering the majority of my body.

I catch a glance of my reflection in a shop window. Touching my face with a calloused hand, I feel the coarse hairs of my beard. On a light breeze, I catch a subtle smell of leather, coming from my armor.

I picked the noble vampire armor because I liked the look of it in the game, but seeing it in real life... I have mixed feelings. It looks amazing, but there is no mistaking this for anything but armor. Unfortunately, it makes me look like I'm ready for Comic-Con.

This isn't a dream. This is all real.

Other Me, that son of a bitch!

My previously halted anger is back in full force. Other Me thinks he can make me dance to his tune? I may be forced to run his missions for now, but I'm taking every advantage I can to become powerful! Then I'm gonna find that bastard and run my fist down his throat!

I'm pulled from my thoughts of revenge by the sound of metal rattling nearby. All around me, the cobblestones, metal bench, and metal signs seem to be reacting to my anger.

Fearing someone coming to investigate, I take several deep breathes and put thoughts of revenge aside.

With a calmer mind, I assess my situation. Looking down at my armor reminds me of the enchantments I placed on them. The enchantments on my armor are for defense and stamina. My enchanted jewelry is a bit different. I used the potion trick to enchant my jewelry to give me a ridiculous amount of Magicka and health.

Other Me also said he would give me a small subspace, but failed to tell me how to use it. Seeing nothing to lose, I mentally think 'subspace'! An image of a tiny room filled with various items from Skyrim popped into my head. There are numerous items of all shapes and sizes and a towering pile of gold Septims.

I'll have to find a secure place to inspect the items in my subspace. I look around at my surroundings. I find myself standing in a dreary, and narrow, European street. I would guess England, judging by the architecture and English written signs.

A warm breeze carries hints of urban living to my nose. The subtle sounds of a city can be heard farther down the street. But what draws my attention is the three stores across the cobblestone street.

The two stores on the ends are Quinto Bookshop and Ashley Associates Chartered Surveyors. The small store in the middle has an old wrought-iron sign of a cracked cauldron and 'The Leaky Cauldron' written in flowing script.

Before moving towards The Leaky Cauldron, I recall what Other Me said. This is a crossover universe. The d.i.c.k didn't say what this universe is crossed with.

I dismiss the idea of going to the bookshop and searching through history books for a couple of reasons. First, I don't have any local currency. Second, I don't want to be seen looking like some cosplay weirdo. The less attention I attract, the better.

Crossing the street to The Leaky Cauldron, I hastily escape the modern-day setting. Stepping into the wizardly pub reminds me of the bars of Skyrim. The common-room is rather small for a pub. There is a rustic and dirty feel to the place, devoid of any sign of modern technology.

Despite all that, it feels rather welcoming. Even the two crusty looking old witches staring at me from their corner seat lacks any hostility.

Making my way around the crudely built wooden tables, I silently move towards the barkeep. I make a side-note to investigate the Muffle enchantment on my boots. I have the Muffle spell from Skyrim, but I would have to cast it every thirty minutes.

Briefly looking at the bald elderly man standing behind the bar, I can't help but wonder how it's possible to have so many wrinkles.

With a wide toothless smile, the barkeep happily says, "Welcome ta The Leaky Cauldron young man. The names' Tom. What can I getcha?" It took me a moment to piece together what he really said. The toothless British accent is foreign to my American senses.

"Do you have today's paper?" I respectfully asked the cheerful old-man. This seems like a much saner option than asking what the date is.

"Aye, just finished it meself," Tom slides me the folded newspaper."You been in London long?"

Apparently, I'm the one with a foreign accent. "Just arrived," I reply with a casual tone.

Focusing on the newspaper in my hands, I quickly scan the top of the front page. The date is right below the flowing font of 'The Daily Prophet'. Sunday, 1st September 1991.

Today is Harry Potter's first day at Hogwarts. The school year has already started!

I strain to remember as much as I can about the Harry Potter Series, but it's been over ten years since I read the last book. With this being a crossover world, everything I remember may potentially be useless anyway.

Hell, I don't even know if this Harry Potter world is based on the books or the movies!

"Can I getcha something to drink," Tom asks?

Thinking of withdrawing a Septim from my subspace, I feel a slight weight in my right hand. Lifting the crudely stamped gold coin up to Tom, I ask, "Do you accept foreign gold?"

With a look of concentration, Tom lightly takes the Septim from me and places it on the bar. With a flick of his wrist, a long dark wand is in his hand. After casting several spells at the coin, Tom looks up at me with his jolly toothless smile. "Aye, I can accept this."

"I'll have two fingers of aged whiskey," I order as I continue my act of reading The Daily Prophet. I begin thinking about what all I need to do and the things I need.

Tom interrupts my thoughts as he places down my drink. Absentmindedly, I take a sip of the dark liqueur. The soothing taste of berries and the warmth of alcohol distract me from my plans. This is damn good whiskey!

Looking up at Tom, I'm met with a very pleased looking old man. "Beetle Berry Whiskey, bottled in 1983," Tom states with pride. With a nod of my head, I turn back to staring at the paper.

Other Me never gave me a timeline, but something tells me he won't let me wait too long.

If all goes well, I have until the end of spring to prepare for Other Me's mission. The most likely avenue is the job opening for Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. I think that Goldilocks fraud is the only one that applied for it, so he shouldn't be too hard to beat.

Of course, there is also the curse on the position to be worried about. Maybe I can just banish the ghost that teaches history and take its place the following year?

Something to think about.

Either way, if I'm going to succeed, I'm going to need knowledge and a massive number of books. Those books will not be cheap. Regardless of the type of world, I'm now in, I'm going to need money.

Thinking of finances, I get a wicked idea! I currently have several gold bars in my subspace for immediate cash. With the Transmute: Silver Ore and Transmute: Gold Ore spells, my future finances should be taken care of. For the spell to be successfully cast, I have to use hematite or magnetite. Processed iron won't work.

I'm also going to need a place to live and study. I might even have to purchase a wand to cast the spells of this universe. I really hope not. I'm not fond of the thought of using a crutch.

If I'm forced to use a wand for Hogwarts magic, then I will use my Skyrim spells for combat. I may not be able to cast them as fast as a Hogwarts magic, but I'm sure the Skyrim spells are much more destructive.

Putting thoughts of a wand aside, I quickly form a plan to gain some money. With a tentative plan, it's time to visit Gringotts.

I finish the rest of my whiskey and stand up. I call out to Tom at the other end of the bar, "Excuse me, Tom. Can I trouble you to open the way to Diagon Alley?"

"Course," Tom called as he moved out from behind the bar. Tom leads the way to the back of the bar. Opening a sturdy wooden door, we step out into a small enclosed courtyard.

"Now, just watch, carefully," Tom said over his shoulder.

I intently stare at each brick Tom taps with his wand. If you look close enough, you can see slight indents in the stone bricks, from hundreds of years of witches and wizards tapping them.

As the bricks slide and spin into a large archway, I get my first look at the hidden magical world. Stepping into Diagon Alley, I closely examine the shops and small displays of magic. The waving mannequins were interesting but seemed rather simple when considering the possibilities.

Sadly, I'm not impressed by the alley. It looks more like an 1800's era English village. It's like it never advanced from the time it was created.

I do spot several shops I intend to visit once I have Galleons. The Enchanter in me can't wait to get hold of some of the magical trinkets!

The street isn't crowded at all, despite the numerous robed people moving about the alley. I notice I'm already drawing the attention of a few individuals. It looks like I need a new wardrobe if I hope to blend in.

It doesn't take long before I'm standing before a massive snow-white marble building with leaning pillars. Walking up the few white marble steps, I approach a set of tall burnished bronze doors. Flanking the doors are two pale-skinned goblins in tactfully armored scarlet and gold uniforms.

The bodies of the goblins don't resemble the ones shown in the Harry Potter movies.

These seem much more agile and sinister. They look every bit of capable little warriors.

As I approach, both goblins' b.a.r.e their teeth and tightly grip the hilts of their weapons. Ignoring the aggressive little warriors, I push open one of the bronze doors and step into a small decorative entrance hall.

At the other end of the small hall is a set of silver doors flanked with another pair of goblin guards. These goblins seem more tolerate as neither one sneer or grasp their weapons. However, they did intently stare at me.

I wonder if goblins are this hostile to every wizard, or if they're acting like this due to my armor?

As I approach the silver doors, one of the goblins steps forth and silently opens the door. Giving the small warrior a nod of acknowledgment, I step into an enormous marble hall. Gold and crystal decorations are tactfully placed along the walls and pillars, giving an impression of a rich and majestic Hall.

On both sides of the hall stand heavily engraved counters, with dozens of goblins moving about. Every goblin is of similar height and wearing a dark suit and tie. Various goblins can be seen counting coins, inspecting gems, or writing in thick leather-bound ledgers.

Walking over to an elderly looking goblin wearing gold-rimmed glasses, I intend to patiently wait for him to finish writing. Before I can reach the counter, his eyes snap towards me.

I'm starting to think the goblins are reacting to me specifically.

Reading the name on the gold plaque, I respectfully state, "Greetings, Teller Bogrod."

The wrinkled goblin takes only a moment before replying, "Good day to you mister..."

I quickly debate on using my real name or my Skyrim name. Accepting the situation of being merged with my game character, I choose to combine the two names. "I am Xavier Dovahkiin."

I can tell Bogrod is searching his memory for my house name, but I think it's extremely unlikely he will find anything. Unless Other Me messed with more than he let on.

After a few seconds, Teller Bogrod asks, "What is the nature of your business with Gringotts?"

"I am looking to sell gold bars and exchange foreign coins for Galleons and local muggle currency." Having stated my purpose, I watch as the small goblin's black eyes widen.

Teller Bogrod resumes a professional attitude. In an equally respectful tone, Bogrod says, "That exchange will not be a problem. I can appraise the gold now."

With a thought, I bring a gold ingot in my right hand and a Septim in my left. Placing them both on the counter, I patiently wait for their appraisal.

After several minutes, Teller Bogrod finishes his appraisal. "Gringotts will exchange your... Septims... At a rate of two Galleons and three Sickles per. The gold bar weighs exactly two kilograms. At current market prices, Gringotts will pay 10,189 Galleons per gold bar. We currently exchange Galleons for the muggle pound at a rate of five pounds per Galleon."

That doesn't seem right. Looking at the pure gold Septim, laying beside the bar of gold, I start to do my own calculations. With the size of the Septim, it would take around four hundred Septims to equal the same weight as the gold bar.

This little crook is trying to royally screw me over!