Disclaimer: The world of Narnia and its characters comes from the immortal, genius mind of C.S. Lewis and not my significantly inferior one, and the rights to its literature belong to HarperTrophy, which is a division of HarperCollins Publishers. Harry Potter and his world belong to J.K. Rowling, and to Bloomsbury Publishing in the U.K. and to Scholastic Publishing in the U.S. Since I am none of these people or companies, I own nothing.
A/N: Okay, so some explanation as to when this all occurs. In the Harry Potter universe, this takes place during Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, right after the chapter "The Mirror of Erised," and is meant to be seen as a missing chapter in the story. In Narnia time, this story takes place after The Magician's Nephew, but before The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. As to why Harry can be in a time period of Narnia from before the Pevensies got there, just acknowledge the fact that Aslan is beyond human time and can pull people from any time period he wishes should he deem them worthy enough. And well, Aslan has an important lesson for Harry to learn and he has just the mission to do it, but Narnia still has to be in existence for that to work.
I've been writing this story in my head for six years, and it has morphed somewhat over time from its original idea. Hopefully, the changes I've made to it as I've matured will make this story seem better than most HP/Narnia crossovers and not worse. I leave you to be the judge. I hope you enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think!
Harry Potter and the Light at Lantern Waste
Part 1: Harry and the Looking Glass
When Harry awoke the next morning, he did so with the firm vow that he would not go looking for the Mirror of Erised again. In fact, a part of Harry would have been quite happy to never see any sort of mirror for a time. To look in a mirror and see not only yourself staring back at you, but to see images of people you've always loved yet never had seen, hurt in a way he knew he could never describe to anyone - not even Ron or Hermione. He feared if he glanced in a mirror, he would break - either from the knowledge that he lacked self-will and had looked for the Mirror again, despite his promise to Dumbledore (whom he trusted above all else), or from disappointment at not seeing his parents and family behind his image. Seeing them had fulfilled a longing that he had always been aware of, but of an extent to which he had never known. Three nights of feeling the closest to complete he had ever been, and it had all been snatched away. He had seen the embodiment of his greatest wish, and it had turned out to be a lie. Dumbledore had shown Harry the truth, and while Harry accepted that truth, he still ached with the knowledge of it.
However, it was less than an hour later when that vow was tested, and it could not really be laid down as being a fault of Harry's. It all transpired as he was walking down to breakfast in the Great Hall, Ron and the other Weasley brothers having gone down half an hour previously. Harry, despite his efforts to not clue Ron in on his nighttime wandering the evening before, had been morose upon Ron trying to wake him up. Ron had known better than to inquire as to the reason behind Harry's state of slight distress and had merely told Harry he would meet him in the Great Hall later, should Harry wish to get up at any point of the morning. Harry had remained reclining on his four poster for about twenty minutes longer, torn between wallowing in some well-earned self pity and putting on a fake smiling face for his closest friends. The latter had eventually won out, for despite his sadness at the thought of no longer seeing his parents, Harry could not forget the advice Dumbledore had given him: "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." The real world was calling to him, and Harry felt he had little choice but to answer.
He had been about halfway to the Great Hall, about to take one of the main staircases, when he noticed that the staircases had changed again. He did not even dignify this change with a huff of annoyance, as this was hardly something unexpected, and while a hassle when one was late for class, it was hardly the highest point of contention for Harry Potter on this particular morning. Harry, as he usually did when the staircases made such a change, got off on the next corridor and looked around to see where the change had landed him so that he could have some idea of what corridor to take and get to the Great Hall and hopefully at least have time for a glass of orangeade and some toast before heading outside for yet another snowball fight with the Weasleys. He glanced around and saw that he was on the corridor that had all the professor's offices and the professor's lounge. He gave a slight nod to himself as he decided where to go from there and felt the slightest bit relieved. At least the staircase had led him to a place he knew multiple ways out of and hadn't deposited him on the third floor corridor or some other similar place that was forbidden for students (as Harry knew that with his luck he would get caught by a professor and then get in trouble, despite the fact that he had no choice whether or not to be there). Harry turned possible exit points and shortcuts through his mind before finally deciding to try out the staircase on the opposite end of the hall, which would lead him down directly to the main entrance way in front of the Great Hall.
He was halfway down the corridor, next to the professor's lounge, before he allowed himself to notice it. There, standing next to the wall on the right hand side, right outside the door of the lounge, was a large looking glass. It looked to be about four feet in height and three feet in width, the sort that one often finds on the inside of a wardrobe, and it was rather unimposing upon first glance. It was the woodwork that first caught Harry's eye; it had fauns and tree spirits and centaurs and other such magical creatures that Harry had always, until recently, considered to be mere fancy etched along into the wood. But it was the top piece that was truly breathtaking. It rose up into a large crest in the center and had a large Sun etched into it with a lion's head in the center of the Sun. The longer Harry looked at it, the more awed he was. Why, it almost looked as though the lion's mane was gleaming! But that was impossible! Absurd! As Harry stared, he could have sworn that it looked as though the lion were moving, about to open its mouth and let out a mighty roar. Harry instinctively covered his ears and closed his eyes. He waited. There was nothing. He lowered his hands and opened his eyes and the mirror frame was back to how it had been before - the lion's mouth was closed and the mane was a mere set of lines etched in the wood. But something had changed - something very important. The looking glass, which mere seconds before had shown Harry and the opposite wall of the corridor in its reflection, now was showing a world the likes of which Harry had never seen. Harry took a step back in shock.
He stood in the corridor, fidgeting slightly while he thought, nervously playing with the handle of his wand. Harry did not consider himself the smartest of eleven year olds by any means (he knew that would be Hermione, who was probably smarter than even some adults he knew), but even he felt himself smart enough to know all the reasons he should not step close to the looking glass. Harry Potter had only been in the wizarding world for four months, but even that short an amount of time was enough for him to know that it was foolish for one to touch a mirror when the glass shimmered or showed a world in which the viewer was not standing. After all, the mirror's glass could be cursed with some weird sort of poison that came through the skin when the viewer touched it. Or, if it wasn't poisoned and was in fact a portal to another world, how could one know if that world was safe or if there was any way to return to the original place? Harry shook his head. No, getting close to the mirror would be a hazardous idea - begging for trouble - and a stupid move at that. Regardless, when Harry went to turn away from the mirror and continue his trek down the corridor, he found that he had stepped closer to the mirror in his musings, his fingers already reaching forward to touch the glass. He quickly jerked his arm back, cursing it for its lack of co-operation.
He thought through the problem again. The mirror was standing in the corridor, rolled out so that it slightly slanted away from the wall, making the viewer see his or her self as they walked down the corridor. It was almost as though someone had been in the process of moving the mirror from the professor's lounge and had been called away and meant to come back for it later. But, with Harry and his all-too-near-to-be-forgotten experience with the Mirror of Erised still fresh in his hurting mind, he could not help but think that there was devious play at work. Things around Hogwarts were never just "left out" and forgotten - that was too dangerous in a world with cursed objects and with trickster students like Fred and George Weasley constantly underfoot. Harry firmly told himself that the cards were stacked in a too dangerous position to continue playing any further. He needed to turn around and walk away from the mirror and the dark, snowy, beautiful landscape it was showing. It was too bad for Harry that his feet refused to co-operate with his brain.
Harry continued to stand there, despite his best intentions, and fought a war between reason and curiousity that reason was quickly losing. After a few minutes, Harry no longer merely saw the world in the looking glass, but he could also feel the chill of the cool, night air. He pulled his cloak around his shoulders a little tighter, thankful that he had dressed for that snowball fight he was planning with the Weasleys. He then felt a slightly different sort of wind right next to his ear. For the briefest of seconds, he thought it was Peeves or possibly Nearly Headless Nick or one of the other Hogwarts ghosts, but then he noted that it felt different - warm as opposed to the cold feeling he usually got from the ghosts. In fact, it rather felt like a breath. He quickly turned his head and gave a shout when he saw a lion standing in the Hogwarts corridor, feeling his feet trip him closer to the mirror. Harry tried to quickly reason out the best method of escaping and for telling the professors that there was somehow a lion loose in the castle (and despite the fact that strange things were a usual occurrence at his school, Harry couldn't help but think that even the professors would raise their eyebrows in incredulity at his announcement). But alas! for poor Harry, the lion stood at the end of the corridor he was trying to reach and the stairway behind him still had not changed position to where it needed to be for him to reach the Great Hall. Harry felt his knobbly knees tremble at the thought that after everything he had survived - Voldemort's attack, the troll at Hallowe'en, Fluffy the three-headed dog - he was about to be eaten alive by a lion on the corridor of professor's offices. At least it would make an interesting story for his fellow Gryffindors.
But, to Harry's great surprise, the lion made no motion to come nearer to him. It merely stood there at the end of the corridor, flicking its tail and looking for all intents and purposes like the mascot that hung on the Gryffindor House flag. Then, just as Harry had begun to breathe somewhat normally again and try to rationalise his way out of the situation, the lion gave an almighty roar. It rumbled the whole castle - the doors jostled in their frames, the windows rattled, and Harry heard potion phials fall off the shelves in the professor's lounge, as well as some books topple over from the general vicinity of Professor Flitwick's office (Harry briefly hoped that Flitwick hadn't been standing on them at the time) - and Harry found himself grabbing onto the looking glass frame to maintain his balance. In doing so, he found himself face-to-face with that beautiful world again. And just as strongly as his reason had told him to walk away, the more insistent part of him urged him on - the same voice that spoke up when he had heard the name Nicolas Flamel, when he first realised that Fluffy was guarding something, when he had seen the Mirror of Erised - the urge to know, to understand. The urge was almost more than he could bear - it was practically calling to him from the depths of his very soul. He had the urge to let go of that frame and fall, to see if that world was real.
The lion roared again, just as loud and just as terribly as before - yes, terribly, for as beautiful and majestic as the sound appeared, it was yet even more frightening. And with that second roar - whether it was to satisfy that urge and that curiosity or because he truly could not hold on a second longer, Harry didn't know - Harry fell into the looking glass. It wasn't until he stood in a darkened glade, trees all around him with darkness and snow as far as the eye could see, that Harry allowed himself to wonder how he would explain the adventure to his professors (and by extension Ron and Hermione) this time.