The Werewolf and the Wolfriders by Overhill
Summary: A cross-over of the Harry Potter and Elfquest universes.
Categories: Cross Overs Characters: None
Genres: Action/Adventure
Warnings: None
Challenges:
Series: Elfquest cross-overs with the Potterverse
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 1142 Read: 818 Published: 10/16/2007 Updated: 10/17/2007
Story Notes:
What would happen if a werewolf fell into the world of Two Moons (Abode), where Wolf-riders and their part-elf wolves lived?

1. complete by Overhill

complete by Overhill
ElfQuest was created by Wendy and Richard Pini, and is owned by WaRP Graphics. No money is being made here, folks. Just finishing my trilogy of HPxEQ stories, all which are here now at Chaos. Enjoy!

The Werewolf and the Wolfriders



The winter night was dark and the wind was cold. The path through the Forbidden Forest was snow-covered from the storm that had blown up while the young werewolf was in Hogsmeade. He shivered as he stumbled along what he hoped was the way back to the small settlement. He still had a few miles to go, where the outcasts lived together in a deep part of the forest, far from the village and the school, Hogwarts.

The young werewolf - and still a wizard - held his lit wand up to light his way.

His backpack was heavy with the packages of sugar, flour and salt for the communal kitchen, purchased with the small amount of money that pitying relatives had owled. Merlin forbid that any wizarding charity should be organized for the unfortunate victims of lycanthropy.

The wards about the settlement were down for the time being - the moon was still new, and most of the others had ventured out to visit sympathetic friends, or to beg in Muggle towns, or to collect firewood. A few would be waiting for him, with a hot fire and a warm meal waiting for him. He hurried on, stumbling as he went along in the dark woods.

He came to a frozen pool: If he crossed it, it would save a half an hour of his time. But was it safe?

He hesitated, then swung off the backpack. He would test the ice first, see if it made any sound if he stepped on it.

He put the backpack down, and carefully put his foot on the ice, pushing down. It seemed sound. He stepped out with two feet. It seemed firm enough, but he still felt uneasy. He had decided to go the long way around, and was carefully turning back to the few inches to land, when he lost his footing and fell onto the ice, breaking through it. He floundered backwards in his panic, and sank.

The water was freezing, and then it was warm. He found a footing and pushed himself back up into the alpine glow of a setting sun.

He blinked with astonishment. Where was he?

He looked at the forest - instead of pines and firs the trees seemed to be oaks and maples. Familiar types of trees, but different. The smell was of spring moulds, again, a bit off from the world he knew. He floundered out of the water. His backpack was gone.

He was wet and shivering with shock and the cold, but he still had his wand with him. Two quick charms, and he was warm and dry. The sun went down and the twilight began to dim.

The hairs on his neck stood up - he knew he was being watched. He turned to look into the woods around the water, but saw only shadows. He sniffed, and smelled the musk of the night. He slowly moved to a wary stance and waited, his wand ready.

The two moons rose over the horizon. He felt them, rather than saw them, and his body started its transformation. Whatever was watching him had him at its mercy for a few moments, and then, mercy would be no more.

The Wolfriders had avoided the pond for all their time of memory. It was a place of magic, left over from the time of the High Ones. Sometimes animals went in and came out changed. A long time ago an elf went into it, but did not come out again, and could not be found. Humans became sick or died from drinking its waters. The elves and their wolves were passing by on the way to another part of the forest when they heard the splashing and stopped out of curiosity.

The elves saw the human-like creature lurch up out of the water. He looked similar, yet different from the humans they knew - the ones who lived over the hill, and were graceless in their movements. This one had layers of odd skins on him, and was taller, less hairy, and had no smell that they could discern. They and their distant relatives, the wolves, watched and waited to see what manner of being he was.

They could sense the magic as he waved a stick about him, and saw that the wet skins he wore dried almost instantly. A useful skill, if they could learn it. He had magic, so he was not human.

The two moons rose, full and round. And the man changed in front of their eyes into a wolf-like being, shedding his skins during the process. Strong magic indeed! A self-shaper, as was told in the times of story telling and Dreamberries. A human he seemed in detail, down to the round ears and smaller eyes, and the five fingers on his hands - but the wolves had five toes. Could this be a High One, a Firstcomer, an immortal elf from the times of old?

The wolves were curious. One carefully crept out, ready to kill if necessary.


The werewolf knew that it was not in its own boundaries. It was not an alpha, one who could fight and kill. It could only go by instinct to save itself. It showed its throat to the other...

And was accepted.

The warm night was long, filled with the hunt, with eating, with playing, with sleeping. The elves watched the wolf and the strange wolfish animal in their activities; the animal seemed to know that it was the least of the group, and hung back, waiting its turn as the moons soared overhead and to their destinations.

The two moons descended. The strange creature slunk back to the pond, and nosed its way back into the water, and disappeared. The elves and the wolves waited and watched through the dawn, but it did not return.


The young man crawled out of the water, naked and shivering. He had lost his wand. He crept to the backpack, and it was there a short while later that the school's gamekeeper discovered him, lying unconscious in the snow. The young man was carried back to the gamekeeper's cottage, and there was revived and cared for until he was strong enough to complete his journey back to where the others waited for him and his burden.

His memory of the other world remained as a half-forgotten dream.

And in another world, the elves and their wolves moved further away from the pond.
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