AUTHOR'S NOTE: Whilst both worlds are based off the books, Caspian's age is based off of the movies. So he is older in this than he is in the books. The story starts halfway through Third Year at Hogwarts.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own anyone. The Chronicles of Narnia belong to C.S Lewis, and Harry Potter and co. belong to J.K Rowling.

A loud crack, not unlike that made by a whip, tore through the stillness, and a flock of jewel-coloured birds nesting in a tree took to the sky in fright. Their fear, however, was nothing compared to the fear felt by the three people who had appeared from nowhere.

The strangers – two boys and a girl – looked wildly around at their surroundings, as if they'd never seen anything like it. One of the boys swayed slightly, then turned and was violently sick. The girl screwed up her nose in distaste, before pulling out what appeared to be a wooden stick. She took a hesitant step forward, stick raised, and when nobody jumped out and attacked them, she visibly relaxed.

"Come on, Ronald!" She pulled at the arm of the boy who had just finished throwing up, and shot a look at the other boy. "Where do you think we are, Harry?"

The spectacled boy shrugged. "I dunno, Hermione. One moment I was throwing snowballs at Malfoy outside the Shrieking Shack, next moment there was this huge bang and we were here." He scratched his head as Ron lurched forward, his face a sickly green.

"I am never travelling like that again," he said, swallowing hard.

Harry looked over at his friend sympathetically, before snapping his fingers. "I know!" He pulled out a tattered piece of parchment, his face falling even as he opened it. "Oh, I forgot. It doesn't show outside of Hogwarts. And 'cause we're not on it… well, I know where we aren't. We're definitely not at Hogwarts."

Hermione frowned, looking at the piece of parchment. "Harry what's-? Nevermind, I just want to know where we are and how we got here." She gasped, her face lighting up. "We didn't touch a Portkey, did we? Oooh that would be marvelous! I've always wanted to travel by Portkey."

Ron shook his head, colour slowly finding its way back into his cheeks. "Nah, can't be Portkey. We didn't touch anything."

Hermione's face fell. "Oh. Shame. Well, come on you two, let's try and find out where we are. I'd grab your wands if I were you – we don't know what we might be faced with."

The trio set off, but they didn't make it very far before Ron stumbled on a pebble and fell down heavily, swearing profusely. "I want to know where we are, and how we got here!" he said loudly, massaging his ankle.

There was a rustling to their right, and a girl stepped out from a bush. Her long hair was down, but two small braids ran from her temples and tied up at the back of her head. Her dress was long (Hermione thought it reminded her of pictures of medieval dresses) and a rich red colour. She smiled sweetly at them, and Harry found himself thinking that she didn't seem like the kind of person who could hurt a fly.

"I'm Que- I'm Lucy," she said, stepping forward. "As for your questions," she added, addressing Ron, "I can answer them both. You're in Narnia, a land once ruled by the great lion Aslan. Of course, he still rules Narnia, but King Miraz, who is actually a Telmar, thinks he rules Narnia. Even though he doesn't have any claim to the throne."

She paused, waved her hand impatiently as if annoyed, and continued. "And as to how you got here, why, I thought that would have been obvious." She smiled. "You are witches and wizards, aren't you? Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Magic," she breathed. "Pure magic. But how?"

"Old magic," answered Lucy. "Aslan's doing. I also have the answer to why you're here, if you'd like that."

"Yes," Harry said quickly. "Please."

Lucy's smile widened. "You're here… to help Prince Caspian claim his rightful place as King of Narnia."