Harry Potter the Crowned Guardians - PART 1: The Soul Stone
AkashaWinters
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the Harry Potter world. JK Rowling owns the Harry Potterverse anyone who doesn't know that should be exiled to Mars, I make exceptions only for poor penniless people in remote corners of third world countries, who cannot read and don't have the money to buy the overly priced one – thousand paged books. C.S Lewis owns the Narnia books (or did, not sure who does now), again I make no claim for the credit of this work, it is all the work of these amazing author's, this is just a fun re-write. I make no money from my poor attempt at fanfiction and will remove it should I be asked to do so.
Summery: Harry's past five years have seen more than enough adventures and too many horrors, but during sixth year his biggest adventure of all is about to begin! As if Harry's life wasn't complicated enough with DADA training, Quidditch and Newts, after an particularly unusual vision Dumbldore's got him doing Occulmency with Snape again, Trelawney's got a very confusing prophesy to be heard, Malfoy's acting weird and four Muggles have appeared out of nowhere from the 1940's with the key to their weapon and some suprising magical adventures of their own. What's the world coming to and will the mistery be unravelled before time runs out? [Post -OOTP, Cannon Compliant until 6th year, SLASH, Narnia Crossover.]
AN: I have edited and updated this chapter, mostly grammer and spelling. The only major change is the time the story is set. It now begins in September instead of May, the beginning of Harry's Sixth year as this seemed more appropriate. Constructiv criticism very welcome. Please remember I am currently Bet'a-less!
Prologue - Touching Time
Ten-year-old Lucy Pevensie sat watching the raindrops run down the window, condensation was slowly making its way up from the lower edge of the pane. She had almost completely tuned out her French teacher's mono-tone pronunciation lecture. Her mind instead drifting towards the magical world of Narnia. It was September 1942, two years since their first adventure in Narina, and since then she had returned twice; a year ago when they met Prince Caspian and only two weeks ago in unusual circumstances. Their most recent trip had been unlike the ones before, she and Edmund had taken a wrong turn and found themselves down an alley they did not recognise, moments later their feet were no-longer in London, but in Narnia once more. The trip had been brief and Narnia eerily empty; no signs of war nor millennia past, the buildings stood as solid and proud as ever, the land as lush and green, but there was no life, no soul. Then Aslan had appeared and spoken to them; they were growing up, and like their sister and brother, they too would soon out-grow their magical nursery and Narnia would be no-more to them.
Ed had not spoken, just nodded sadly, but she had confronted Aslan, she was the youngest, still a child, she still believed, why should Narnia close it's doors to her? At the time she had been angry, as angry as the snow-storm that surrounded them once Aslan had disappeared. She had not wanted to speak, nor even breathe, and when they had been returned to their dull reality, it was Ed who quietly explained to Peter and Susan their new adventure. It was only now, as she sat there watching the rain, did Lucy contemplate Aslan's explanation. He had spoken of a new world, a new adventure, a new life of magic and mystery. A world where they would once again take their rightful place, to guide and protect.
In the depths of Lucy's ten-year-old mind, she began to wonder if dreams were all Narnia ever really was, if she was really growing up at last, like her elder siblings. If Aslan's words were just her brain's way of telling her to grow up and accept that this was the only life there was, this normality the only adventure they would ever live. Yet, as she watched the last raindrops wiggle their way down the glass pane, she felt a glimmer of hope deep down inside that was not ready to be squashed just yet.
"...Miss Pevensie! Pay attention! Combien des élèves y a-t-il dans votre collège?"
Lucy jumped and stared up a the chalk board for a moment, "Il y a cent quinze élèves dans mon collège...?"
It wouldn't be long before the bell rang when she would meet her siblings for the ride home and a weekend of freedom.
HPNHPNHPNHPN
At the other end of the Britain, in a different boarding school, in a different time, sat 16-year-old Harry Potter in an equally dull charms lesson. He too was watching the rain pelt against the ancient glass pane next to him. It had been an eventful summer since the department of mystery's incident. With Dumbledore fully re-instated, the ministry in up-roar over the proven existence of Voldermort and the death eater attacks ever-increasing, it looked like all-out war was likely to break lose in the near future. Meanwhile, Harry was having a had enough time concentrating on his NEWT lessons, his Quidditch and extra DADA training. On top of all that he had just started back with Occlumency lessons with Snape.
He and Snape would have liked to be as venomous to each other as they had been last year, but with the amount of time they were having to spend together and the safety of the wizarding world at stake, in reality it just wasn't possible. Not to say Harry liked Snape or anything now, but they managed to tolerate each other for long enough to get on with the job and Snape did know how to push all Dumbledore's buttons, which Harry secretly appreciated.
With Occlumency too now, Harry seemed to have spent more time in Snape's presence these last two weeks than with his friends. He was over-worked, tired, irritable and couldn't concentrate. If the lesson's had been making any difference, he might have felt a little less hard done by, but like last year, he had yet to see any progress. Dumbledore had approached the subject at the beginning of summer, but both Harry and Snape had firmly put their foot down, DADA coaching was one thing poking around in each other's minds again was another entirely. However, after almost a month of severe headaches and Voldemort visions, when Harry had returned for the new term at Hogwarts they had caved in.
In actual fact, it had been after a particularly odd vision that Dumbledore had insisted on the lessons continuing. The vision, or dream, Harry wasn't really sure, had not been like any other he had every received. It was very real, just like his visions, only it wasn't of death eaters and pain and it didn't make his hair stand on end like all his other visions did. It had been of young boy and girl in a vast green space with rolling hills and rivers, he'd seen a lion, which had spoken and they had spoken back. Then all of a sudden a snow storm had blown up out of no-where. The boy and girl had cried out in surprise and as the snow whipped around them, he had reached out to them but his hand had gone right through them as if in a pensive. They had looked up, the girl looking through him as though she did not see him at all, but the boy, he had looked right at him. All of a sudden Harry had been filled with memories, so quickly, so fleeting he was only grasping at mere snippets of moments in time. There were bangs and sirens, bright lights, laughter, fur coats and snow, talking animals, screams, swords, horses, bells and cheering crowds and four children playing, fighting, growing up. Just as suddenly as it had appeared, it was lost and Harry could hardly remember what he had seen, like waking from a dream thats already departed.
He had been keeping a diary of all his visions, for Dumbledore to review once a week, sometimes information could be glimpsed, sightings and locations assessed. Normally, he would floo the diary over to Dumbledore at the end of the week, then later that evening pick it up after a fifteen minute cup of tea as the headmaster probed him for further details and expressed his concern. Harry did not resent that Dumbledore used his visions for this purpose, just as he also did not resent that the expressed concern was more a formality now. They both new the horrors that Harry witnessed on an almost daily basis could not be soothed with a pat on the back and a lemon drop and Harry understood that war was imminent and the death of Voldemort was the only thing that would stop the visions.
Yet, it had surprised him that such a seemingly harmless vision had concerned Dumbledore so much more. Perhaps because it was so out of character and it could not be explained? Or perhaps the headmaster knew exactly what it meant, which troubled him even more. Either way, he had a nagging feeling that his troubles were just beginning.
"Harry? Are you coming? We're going to be late for Quidditch practice."
