A/N:

T: "Hey! The Summary doesn't quite do this story justice. It's a crossover between Rise of the Guardians, Brave, Frozen, Tangled, How to Train your Dragon and Harry Potter."

E: "Quite a mouthful, isn't it."

T: "This will hopefully be a series with seven full stories."

E: "Not that we're ambitious or anything."

T: "Obviously, this is story 1, chapter 1. We will try to update regularly and chapter 2 will be posted in a week."

E: "Feel free to leave reviews or PM us. We'd really appreciate it."

T: "Constructive helpful criticism and feedback would be great."

E: "Make sure to check out our other accounts on Wattpad and AO3 under the same name. Thanks guys."

T: "See you in a week."

Disclaimer: The World of Harry Potter or any of the characters involved in Rise of the Brave Frozen Tangled Dragons ( apart from O/C's ) do not belong to us I'm afraid. Sad times, I know - Ellie.


Five boys stood at the top of a staircase, peering down the stairs, all of them looking rather unsettled - except for one.

"Are you sure about this Jack?" One of the younger boys asked, glancing at the gangly boy beside him. Anyone could have assumed they were brothers. They both had large, warm brown eyes, open faces and untidy mops of brown hair.

Jack rolled his eyes,"Of course! It'll be fun!"

He turned to the other three boys behind him.

"Who's first?" he asked, smiling widely.

The boys each took a step back, shaking their heads, one pushing the other two in front of him. Frowning, Jack picked up the cardboard box at his feet and walked to the edge of the stairs.

"Fine then, stay up here." he glanced back at the boy who had spoken before as he balanced the box on the edge of the stairs and settled himself inside. "Jamie? Coming?"

Jamie still looked daunted as he examined the stairs. The staircase was the tallest and the straightest in the building, leading directly from the second floor to the front hall. It was narrow and rather steep, and didn't even look safe to walk down, let alone to use for sledding.

"I dunno…" he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Come on!" Jack coaxed.

"Er, no," Jamie decided. "I've changed my mind,"

"Don't tell me you're scared."

The younger boy gritted his teeth and crossed his arms. "I'm not scared."

"Then get in the box."

He looked down the staircase one more time, and seemed to change his mind.

"Fine," he said. With determination in his eyes, he got into the box. Jack glanced back at the other scaredy-cats behind them.

"Can one of you lot at least give us a push?" he asked, a bit bitingly.

One of the boys eagerly nodded. As long as it wasn't him going down the Staircase of Death, it seemed he was perfectly happy to participate.

"Ready?" Jack asked his friend.

Biting his lip, Jamie nodded.

"Go!" Jack shouted. The boy pushed the back of the cardboard box over the edge of the drop. There was a moment where they balanced precariously, between safety and certain doom. Then they tipped forward.

WHOOSH. Down the stairs the went, gripping the sides of the box tightly as they tried to steer away from the walls. The two boys couldn't see each other's expressions, but both let out loud yells of excitement as the ride got bumpier and bumpier.

Jack shivered. He suddenly felt as if his insides were frozen. That was when the ride abruptly smoothed out and got a lot faster. They came off the staircase and slid across the hard tile floor. There wasn't time to do anything as the they sped towards the wall at the end of the foyer.

"Abandon ship!" Jack shouted, leaping out and rolling along the floor to a stop.

Jamie, however, was slower to react. He twisted around, but it was too late. The box spun out of control, then rammed into the wall with a sickening thud.

Jack scrambled to his feet and dashed to his friend's side. Jamie was lying on the floor, the box beside him, tears in his eyes and blood on his face.

"Jamie!" Jack cried. "Jamie, are you okay?"

"Ow," the boy mumbled, as his friend helped him to his feet.

"Where are you bleeding?" Jack asked, examining his friend's face for cuts and bruises.

"My mouf" Jamie mumbled. He spat some blood onto the hall floor, heedless of the fact the nuns had just scrubbed it. "I fink…" he took a moment to self-diagnose. A wide smile spread across his face. His teeth were red with blood, but one of them was missing. "My toof came ou'! Yeth!"

Jack smiled too, relieved. "Awesome." He glanced back up the stairs, looking for the rest of the group, but a short, plump woman in a nun's black and white habit had taken their place, glaring down sternly at him with her hands on her hips.

"Jackson, what is the meaning of this?"

His smile faded. "We were just sledding, Sister Margaret," he said.

The sister raised an eyebrow. "Indoors? In July?"

Jack hesitated. "...yes?"

Margaret's eyes narrowed. "This is the second time this week Jackson. I've warned you already, there must be consequences when you break the rules!"

"Consequences?" Jack demanded incredulously. "What rules are there against sledding down the stairs?"

"You could have been hurt," the Sister said sternly.

"But I wasn't!" Jack protested.

Sister Margaret's tone hardened. "It appears to me as if Jamie did, in fact, get hurt."

"Well-" Jack began.

"No excuses," the Sister snapped, lifting her skirt to come down the stairs. "This time it's-" she had almost reached the bottom when she slipped. The Sister let out a loud shriek as she fell down the steps, landing at the bottom with her habit somehow still on her head.

Jamie stifled a laugh as other sisters came running to see what the ruckus was about. Jack moved out of the way as they formed a circle around Sister Margaret and helped her to her feet. Voices broke out as the other sisters asked what had happened, brushing her down and checking her over.

"Are you alright-?"

"-what happened?"

"- the stairs-"

"- slipped-"

"- don't know how exactly-" but they were soon interrupted by another, older and louder voice, full of authority.

"And what is going on here?"

Jack and Jamie both stiffened. The Sisters immediately quieted. Sister Margaret straightened her habit and stepped forward. "I simply slipped on the stairs Mother Superior," she explained.

Mother Superior was not impressed. "An awful lot of fuss for a minor slip, Sister," she commented, looking over her spectacles at the younger woman.

"What's that on the staircase?" one of the Sisters asked.

Jack and Jamie peered through the gaps of the circle of sisters, following their gazes to a patch of something clear and hard covering the bottom three steps. It looked like-

"Ice," one of the other sisters said. "It's ice."

"Ice?" the nuns murmured among themselves.

"How could it have gotten there?"

"-It's July!-"

" It's much too warm-"

"-not possible-"

"I'm pwetty sure tha' wasn' there before." Jamie whispered to his friend. Jack nodded, his eyes fixed on the frozen water.

Mother Superior herself stepped forward to examine the patch of ice.

"Most unusual." She muttered. Straightening, she turned to look at the two boys standing sheepishly to the side.

"Well?" She asked. "Would you care to explain this?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know, Mother," he answered honestly.

Sister Margaret scoffed, crossing her arms and turning her head away. Mother Superior narrowed her eyes.

"I'm sorry Sister, is there a problem?"

Sister Margaret turned to face them again, her mouth a thin, tight line.

"It must be their fault. It is always those two!"

"So what you are saying," Mother Superior coughed to clear her throat, a small, ladylike cough. "Is that two eleven year old boys, whilst using a cardboard box to slide down the stairs, managed to form a layer of ice, perfectly fitted to the staircase, in the middle of July." When Margaret remained silent, she continued. "I'm afraid Sister, that we do not believe in magic here."

Jack and Jamie glanced at each other. Mother Superior was defending them? Weren't they supposed to be in trouble?

"Well how else would you propose it got there Mother?" Sister Margaret asked scathingly.

Mother Superior opened her mouth to reply, but that was when someone knocked on the door.

All heads whipped around to face the noise.

Without a word, Sister Margaret went to answer, giving Mother Superior a glare as she passed.

Pushing the handle down, she pulled the door inwards, revealing a tall man who smiled widely at her with bucked teeth.

"Can I help you, sir?" the Sister asked, a bit indignantly. It was almost tea time, a very unusual time for someone to stop by on business.

"Yes," He said. "I wish to see the Mother Superior," Jack and Jamie tried very hard to be invisible. The man spoke with an Australian accent, and they didn't often get visitors. They wanted to see who he was.

"And who are you, might I inquire?" she asked suspiciously, critically surveying the man, from his dark grey suit and vibrant purple tie to his mussed black hair.

"I'm Professor Aster," the man said, holding up an ID for the Sister to inspect. "I represent St. Barnum's School for the Incredibly Gifted."

"And what business do you have at St. Bonaventure's?" she asked, still unconvinced.

The Professor's eyes narrowed to moss-green slits, although he kept his smile. "I believe that business is for the Mother Superior to discuss with me, Sister."

"Of course," Sister Margaret said, cowed, as she opened the door a bit wider to allow him to come in.

"Thank you, Sister," Professor Aster said as he walked past her into the front hall of the orphanage.

Jack and Jamie both stepped back as the Professor strolled through the crowd of Sisters, straight towards Mother Superior.

"Mother." He said simply, bowing his head in greeting. Mother Superior inclined hers in return and waved a hand towards her office. Professor Aster walked through the doorway, while Mother Superior addressed the crowd formed within the foyer.

"Sister Irene, would you kindly escort both Jamie and Jackson back to their dormitories? Thank you. And Sister Margaret? Clean up this mess, if you would."

With that she turned on her heel and headed into the office, closing the door shut behind her.

Everything was silent for a second before the Sisters began to return to whatever jobs they were doing previous to the commotion. Sister Margaret stormed off into another room, most likely going to fetch a mop and cloth.

"This way, you two." Sister Irene called from the bottom of the stairs.

Rather keen to disappear before Sister Margaret returned, the boys followed the Sister back up the stairs and onto the first floor. They both spared a quick glance at the peculiar patch of ice as they navigated around it, frowning deeply.

"Jamie, please clean your face before we eat." Sister Irene said, opening their dormitory door and standing to the side. "And I advise you both to keep this whole incident between yourselves for now. We do not need you encouraging the younger boys."

The door shut with a click, leaving Jack and Jamie standing awkwardly in the middle of a small square room. The window showed the outside street, bustling with passers by, framed by the crumbling cream paint covering the walls. There were two beds right next to each other, a small space in between where the boys could place their feet over the sides. The thin sheets were scrunched untidily at the end of both mattresses, hanging above two worn trunks at the foot of the beds.

"Well, that was fun." Jack said finally.

Jamie turned to beam at him, his smile a bit garish with all of the blood in his mouth.

"Thithter Margaret looked like thee wan'ed to kill uth!"

Jack smirked.

"You gonna clean your mouth out?"

"Yeth."

"I'll wait here."

Jamie left the room and headed down the hall to the toilets, leaving Jack to jump onto his bed, laying back and waiting patiently for him to return. There wasn't much to do in a nun run orphanage. St. Bonaventure might as well be the Saint of boredom. Who could blame him for trying to have some fun?

That ice wasn't in the plan though. Jack could have sworn it wasn't there before they'd gone down the stairs. So where had it come from?

His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle rapping at the door.

"Jackson? Can I come in?" Jack sat up. It was the Australian Professor.

"Yes," he said.

The dorm door creaked open and the Professor walked in. He wore a serious, if not slightly bored, expression as he sat down opposite Jack on Jamie's bed. Clasping his hands in front of him, he sat, staring at the boy. He seemed to be trying to think of what to say.

Jack, feeling uncomfortable, broke the quiet."So what do you want?"

The Professor pulled out a small pile of index cards. Reading off of one while glancing up at Jack, he asked, "Has anything strange happened to you lately Jackson?"

"It's just Jack," Jack corrected him automatically, staring at the cards.

"Has anything strange happened to you lately?" the Professor repeated.

Jack shrugged. "I suppose this morning was a bit odd."

"What happened?"

"Well, me and Jamie were, um, sledding down the stairs in a cardboard box," He paused, expecting the stranger to scold him. He didn't say a word. "And, well, we were near the bottom when we just kind of...sped up. The box slid out of control, Jamie lost a tooth, Sister Margaret fell down the stairs and that's more or less when you showed up. Turns out there was a patch of ice covering the middle of the staircase."

"Does this kind of thing happen to you often Jackson?"

"Jack." He corrected again. But that didn't answer the Professor's question. The truth was this kind of thing happened quite a lot.

Ever since he'd come to St. Bonaventure's Home for Boys as an infant, strange things had been happening to Jack. Even the way he was abandoned was strange. Most children were left in the hospital. or taken from bad homes, or given up for adoption, but not Jack. He was left on the front stoop, like an unwanted package. All he'd had was a blanket and a name tag that read Jack Frost. No other message. Just his name.

But that was only the start of it. When he was younger, Jack had gone through a phase where he would have nightmares almost every other night. Of course, all children had nightmares, but the aftermath of Jack's nightmares were slightly unusual. He would often bolt awake from some horrifying dream to find his bed covered in a fine layer of frost. The nuns always said he must have left the window open, but this had never made much sense to Jack. None of the other beds in the room were ever frozen, and he made sure to lock the window in the dorm every night.

Another time, a group of older boys were pushing Jamie around on the school playground. Jack immediately ran over and pushed himself through the circle of bullies, grabbed Jamie's arm and pulled him away. They had run towards the school, heading for the toilets when they heard shouts and thuds behind them. Jack had turned to see the boys flat on the ground. Behind them, patches of ice. Dark, thick ice.

There were little things as well. Jack never felt the cold. Ever. When the rare English snow arrived in the winter, and the boys were allowed outside to play, Mother Superior always had to force Jack into his heavy coat.

"You'll catch your death out there Jackson," she'd say as she wrapped a scarf around his head.

"But I'm not cold!" Jack would protest, his voice muffled by the thick fabric.

"That's the hypothermia," she would say in reply.

He'd roll his eyes and go out with his coat on, only to end up taking it off as soon as he was out of sight. He never even caught so much as a sniffle.

If Jack was being honest, being unable to explain how or why these things happened freaked him out. But he wasn't about to tell the Professor any of this. The nuns never believed him. Why would this stranger?

In place of an answer, Jack shrugged again.

The Professor frowned. "Just this morning then? That was the only time in your life something happened that you just couldn't explain?"

Jack shrugged one more time. no longer even looking at him.

The Professor's knee started bouncing and he shuffled through his cards, muttering under his breath. The awkward silence returned. Jack wondered when Jamie would return from the bathroom, and save him from having to continue with this conversation.

Eventually, the Professor put his cards away. He looked at Jack for a long second, as if judging something. "Okay, let's cut to the chase." he began, impatience clear in his voice. " I'm not from some gifted muggle school alright? I'm here to tell you that you've got a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Jack stared at him, uncomprehending. What on earth was a muggle? Witchcraft and Wizardry? Hogwarts? "What?"

The Professor rolled his eyes. "Jackson, you're a wizard."

A pause. Then, "Is this a joke?"

Professor Aster looked so supremely done in that moment Jack almost regretted asking.

"You know, most kids'd be jumping up and down for joy if someone told them they had magic-" he said, almost reprimanding him.

"M- magic?" Jack stammered in confusion.

"No, this isn't a joke," the Professor explained impatiently. "You're a wizard, and you've been invited to the best school of witchcraft and wizardry in the country."

Jack laughed nervously. "But that's impossible. Magic … magic isn't real!"

For a moment the Professor could only stare at him. The boy had no sense of wonder. Not a believing bone in his body. "Fine then," he said, standing. "How'd you explain this?"

The Professor slipped his hand into his jacket and pulled out a long thin stick. Pointing it at the bed he was just sitting on, he muttered, "Incendio!"

Jamie's bed promptly burst into flames.

"Oh my God!" Jack cried out, scrambling away from the fire.

Professor Aster rolled his eyes again. It seemed to be his favourite expression. He waved his stick once more and the flames disappeared without a trace. No scorch marks, no smoke, nothing.

"Do you believe me now?" the man asked impatiently, sitting back down on Jamie's bed.

Jack could only nod mutely.

"Right, well, now we've got that out of the way ..." He flicked through his cards again, throwing a couple onto the bed beside him.

"Are you a wizard too?" Jack asked quietly.

"Yep," the Professor said, without glancing up.

"Was that your wand?"

"Uh huh."

"What do you want?"

That got the Professor's attention. He could have sworn he heard a tremble in the kid's voice. The boy was as white as a sheet, his wide brown eyes in stark contrast to his pale face as he stared at the strange man in front of him. The Professor realised with shame that he'd frightened the boy. He was only eleven, trying to understand something that was unbelievable. He didn't deserve his impatience. Aster placed his cards beside him and looked directly into Jack's eyes.

"I'm a teacher, Jack,"he said gently. "I want you to learn. I want you to realise you have an amazing gift, and I want to teach you how to use it."

Jack relaxed. Maybe he could trust Professor Aster after all.

"Here," the Professor said, handing him a thick, yellowed envelope. It was addressed in brilliant green ink.

Mr. J. Frost

Dormitory 13

St Bonaventure's Home for Boys

London

Jack frowned. "There's not gonna be a rabbit inside is there?"

The Professor folded his arms. "Just open the envelope Jackson."

Jack turned the letter over to see it was sealed with a purple coat of arms: a lion, eagle, badger, and snake around the large letter H. He peeled off the wax and ripped open the envelope, pulling out the letter inside. It read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

Of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Nicholas North

(Order of Merlin, First Class, High Wizard of The Northern Pole)

Dear Mr. Frost,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely,

Bunnymund E. Aster,

Deputy Headmaster

Head of Gryffindor House

Jack just stared at it for a moment before looking up at the Professor and saying, "Your first name is Bunnymund?"

The Professor scowled. "That's all you took away from that letter?"

"Yes."

"Has anyone ever told you you're extremely irritating?"

"Yes."

The Professor just sighed.

"Do people call you Bunny?"

He glared at the boy. "No." In truth everyone called him Bunny, but Jack didn't need to know that.

"Can I call you Bunny?"

"It's Professor Aster to you mate."

Jack smirked. "Bunnymund?"

"Don't push your luck kid," the Professor said, getting to his feet. "I'll be back sometime, a week or two before school starts. to take you to Diagon Alley for your school supplies."

"Wait, what?" Jack asked, standing as well. "What's Die … Dee … Dragon … Dia-"

The Professor threw him a wry grin. "You'll find out. See you round, Jackson."

With that the Professor was out the door. His heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor as he went.

"See ya, Bunny," Jack said to the empty room.