First entry on here, feedback would be greatly appreciated. First chapter of a Dragon Age/Harry Potter crossover fanfic. Set in the point of view of Harry's son James at 16 who meets a young Anders. Playing with the idea of a bit of James/Anders romance at this point. Also hint at a bit of Lily/Scorpious romance... Oh, and i like to reference The Hunger Games, Doctor Who and His Dark Materials ;)

Everything belongs to Bioware and JK Rowling, I just torture their creations.

Chapter 1 – James Gets A Little Lost

James had wandered off from his father when he had gotten a message from James's Uncle Ron. The moment he had laughed at the message turned to James and said, "Right, I've got some important – work to do. Stay put," his father had given a stern look before adding "And don't tell your mother." This made James laugh as he pictured the look and angry ranting his father would get for leaving him to go to Ron about whatever joke was on that slip of paper. She had an ability to glare in a way that James would never admit still made him cower. It was the summer after his sixth year in Hogwarts, as he wanted to follow in his father's footsteps and be an auror his mother had insisted he went to work with him for a week through out the summer. Much to James's protesting, this was still going ahead. He longed for playing Quidditch in the forest with his brother and sister, like they would be doing now. In his head a fantasy situation had been created where Hugo and Rose had joined in and they were having a Quidditch tournament. He sighed and kicked the wall of the corridor he had been currently wandering down. Like I was ever going to stay put, James said to himself, the Ministry has to be way more interesting than dad's office! Admittedly so far this hadn't been the case. He wandered aimlessly into a lift and wondered what button to press. His finger hovered over the one to the ninth level, a place that he had heard mention but was often something people did not seem to speak about around him, when the tall blonde man who had been watching him avidly spoke up.

"You're Potter's son, correct?" He said in a snide voice. This made James jump and turn around. He took in the man's appearance for the first time, it was Malfoy's father. James found his face contorting into a scowl. Scorpious Malfoy was a filthy pure-blood, muggle-hating Slytherin who his little sister Lily had been spending a little bit too much time with as of late.

"What's it to you?" James said back, sounding braver than his felt. He was always taught to be polite to is elders but he felt in the circumstance of an ex-deatheater's son, his father at least would approve.

"I wouldn't consider going down their if I were you, not even the great Harry Potter's son is important enough to go down there." His tone was so condescending and snide it made James have a feeling of defiance grow inside of him. Alongside a sense of curiosity, what was on level 9? He knew Draco Malfoy wouldn't believe him if he said he needed to go down there. He pressed the level just below his, 6, and leaned backwards.

"You can't be that important either if you're just going up to level 5," James responded which was greeted with a scowl. He smiled to himself at this. He was not going to let Malfoy get one over on him, especially not after he'd just insulted his father. Draco Malfoy left the lift without a word as the lift down to 6. In between James suddenly pressed 9, he was desperate to see what was down there. What was so special about level 9? He felt a sense of fear after the lift had gone to 6 and making it's way down to that mysterious level. Their was a sense in his stomach that he'd gotten whenever he'd snuck into Hogsmade using the secret passages on the map his father gave him. The one he was under no circumstances to tell his mother that he had passed on to him. It gave him a bit of a rush, the familiar sense of energy filled him. He just felt like a school student running around where he wasn't supposed to and hexing Slytherins rather than someone delving into a forbidden part of the Ministry of Magic.

As soon as the lift had stopped and he energetically made his way out of it into the dark corridor the enthusiasm faded a little. He felt all the hairs on his back and the nape of his neck stand on end, his palms became sweaty and he cautiously walked down the long corridor with an endless amount of doors. The sense that he wasn't supposed to be here had become over-whelming. This wasn't just a detention if he got caught, he wondered how far is father's influence could take him. Scenario's were playing out in his head of exaggeratedly unlikely events, he wouldn't make Askaban for trespassing... Right?

After he'd been walking slowly through the dark place for a couple of minutes he began to hear a low humming sound, he looked around nervously for the source of the noise. He saw nothing. He continued round the corridor and it became slightly louder. The further down it, the louder it became. His pace quickened and almost became a run as the excitement and fear drew inside him. The sound was so intriguing, he longed to know what it was. He is face had begun to have traces of a smile, one that left his since he had entered the Department of Mysteries. He came to stop as he realised which door the noise was originating from. He stayed in front of it for a moment, daring himself to enter. He desperately wanted to know what it was, the door stared at him begging for him to enter. A noise different to the soundtrack that had been playing in his head shocked him for a moment, people were near by. He needed to hide, his instincts took over him and opened the door suddenly. He rested on the closed entrance as his breathing began to calm down. He was safe, for the moment. He took in his surroundings. He stopped and stared, he was entranced.

Inside the almost black room there was nothing but mirrors, each one was much taller than James (who had inherited his father's scrawny apperance) and depicted something different. The first showed a pretty girl about James's age in the woods, a strange looking bow on her back. She was about to aim at something which looked like a deer, she missed. He continued onto the next one. This contained a weak, pale looking girl driving a red pick-up truck, he didn't have any interest in this one and continued to the next. There was a young girl and a young boy, both clearly teenagers. The boy had a strange knife that he seemed to cut air with. Their was another one with a beautiful looking red-haired girl inside a strange device filled with buttons and levers. She was talking to an overly excited looking man in a shirt, tweed jacket and bow tie. He stopped at this one for a while. He found himself gazing into mirror after mirror wondering what on earth they were depicting. Each one seemed to have a different story, with it's own characters. It was almost as if he had a window into each world – he'd read a book a little bit like this once.

He was fascinated with each one before he'd realised he'd been here for quite a while, until he gazed upon the most intriguing of all of them. It was just a room, it was filled with strange instruments and jars of items a couple of which he assumed he must have seen in Potions. There were statues depicting a woman he didn't recognise amongst other things. For some insane reason, he then felt the undying urge to touch the glass. He lifted his arm and slowly his fingers outstretched until the hovered above the mirror. He slowly moved them closer, he had only intended to graze it. He just wanted to brush it with his hand, to get a little closer to the room. Unfortunately, he got much closer than he originally thought he had.

There was a flash of white light and a strange sensation in his stomach, not unlike that of Floo powder and he was thrown into the mirror. Rather than feel the sensation of glass being smashed into him however, he felt like he was being dipped through cold water. He found himself stood inside the room, surrounded by the same objects he'd been admiring. He was in front of a statue of someone the writing had christened "The Prophet Andraste". He looked at this questioningly, he'd never heard of such a person. Clearly she was important though, he thought. He considered asking Rose when she next came round to his house, she was the brightest with in their year after all and the only person he knew who paid attention in History of Magic. He turned around to where he thought the mirror should be and just saw a bookcase. He tried touch it, nothing. He desperately looked around the room for a mirror or something made of glass. Anything at all. He couldn't find a thing, worry was beginning to fill through him. It evolved into fear when he heard the huge door behind him begin to open. He turned around helplessly looking for somewhere to hide. He had run out of time, the doors flung open.

Staring at him where seven very strangely dressed individuals. Six had huge silver armour on. The kind he'd seen in the books his Auntie Hermione had read to his cousins when they were much younger. They also carried what looked like huge swords. The most normal looking one was an old man with a long beard, he appeared to be dressed in what looked like wizard's robes. James's eyes automatically shot to this one, partly because the robed man was the only one with any indication of sympathy in his demeanor. The tallest and most important one stood forward, James could feel his authority but even he didn't have the courage to be defiant. He had absolutely no idea how much power he held. For the first time in his entire life James felt truly scared.

"So you were right Irving, there is an intruder in the cellars," the man said whilst standing closer to James. "A young mage planning an escape perhaps?" The robed man who the authoritive looking figure had called at Irving looked at him curiously.

"No, I do not believe he is one of ours." His voice oozed with with the indication of someone who was respected and James's initial impression was of someone very wise. "Perhaps Gregoir," Irving began, "He was just trying to break into the tower for refuge. Ours is much friendlier than those in other provinces... Such as Orlais, perhaps? And he does suit the appearance of an Orlesian." Irving had becoming closer to him through this entire speech and the look James received gave him the automatic impression that he should agree with everything Irving just said. For some reason, he seemed to be trying to help James. He took comfort in this and considered going along with this might be a good idea. "Is that right, boy?" Irving asked kindly. James found himself unable to make a sound and merely nodded. Gregoir looked suspicious at this convenience and glared at James.

"Hm, strange attire for an Orlesian apprentice," Gregoir questioned. James looked down at his muggle clothes he had donned for walking through London this morning. It was just a plain black t-shirt, old jeans with a Tornado's badge pinned on his chest. What on earth was strange about that? He asked himself. He was glad he was too dumb-founded to speak at the moment because Irving used this as a chance to speak up for him.

"Who are we to question the customs of Orlesians, Gregoir? Besides, if he was trying to leave the circle he would not wish to conform to that of a typical Orlesian apprentice."

"None the less, we should inform the Orlesian circle at once." Panic filled James at this point. He wasn't sure what this "Orlesian circle" they kept mentioning was but he knew that if they were informed of a missing so-called "apprentice" then that would be him in trouble. Fortunately, Irving came to his rescue again.

"Shouldn't we perhaps wait for them to contact us about a missing apprentice and house this boy for the meantime?" Irving asked fairly. One of the younger and less important armoured men with a stutter and bad skin came forward at this point.

"I d-d-don't believe that is of your c-c-concern first enchanter!" He snarled, or what was attempt to be a snarl behind that stutter thought James.

"I am the Knight-Commander here, not you!" Snapped Gregoir. He turned to Irving. "If that is what the first enchanter wishes then that is what will be done." He gestured to them armoured men. "Take him to the apprentice quarters on the first floor, I believe there's a free bed above that -"

"Perhaps Gregoir," Irving suggested. "He should be brought to a healer first. The boy is clearly in shock and dazed."

"Fine," said Gregoir in irritation. "Take him!" Irving followed demanding his apperance. One of the younger armoured men grabbed James from the back of his robes. They were rough and he felt their gauntlets scratch the back of his neck. He thought for a moment it might bleed as they dragged him up the stairs and tears began to sting his eyes before he forced them not to roll down his cheeks. Irving looked at him with pity as they were taken from the cellars. James quickened his pace to keep up with the men and so he didn't feel as if he was being dragged as much.

They passed through a tall doorway and entered a building not unlike Hogwarts. James however still looked around stunned at the brief glances he was allowed, the high ceilings and magnificent windows. The extraordinary engravings on walls and pillars were something he would have examined further were he not being dragged. He was take through another room filled with books that he suspected Rose would love and he assumed must be the library. That was were he saw many young boys and girls who must have been about his age. They were staring at him curiously. One particular boy stood out, he had sandy blonde hair and was stood there with his arms folded. James tried to tell whether the look in his eyes was pity or interest. It could have been both. The next was less interesting and a corridor that was much the same as the first room until a staircase was reached.

He was taken into a room with a middle-aged woman sat in the corner with short greying hair who looked as if she had may have once been beautiful. She was wearing scarlet robes and a smile which did not look forced. She looked over curiously as the men dropped me into the room. Fortunately, Irving spoke first.

"This young mage," What was this word they keep calling me? Thought James. "Seems to be from the Orlesian circle. We found him in the cellars, he seems to be in shock and in need of healing. I convinced the Knight-Commander to let him come here for healing, Wynne." He turned to the men who had brought James there. "You should get back to your duties I presume, gentlemen?" The men glared at Irving as James felt a smug sense of satisfaction. They seemed to leave anyway and the middle-aged woman looked curiously at James.

"Now," she asked. "What is your name, young man?" James tried to speak but he couldn't. As he mouthed helplessly at her, she gave him a kind look and gestured for him to sit down in a comfy looking chair. She walked over to a shelf and took a bottle, she read it carefully and then handed it to him. "Drink this," she said. James obliged and suddenly felt a warmth filling his body he felt much better all of a sudden.

"James," he said. "James Potter."

"Hm, very Orlesian." Wynne said giving a look to Irving that James couldn't quite read. "How did you get into the tower?"

"I – I d-don't know," with a stutter that rivaled the young stutter man in armour. "One moment I was in the Ministry of -" That was when Irving raised a hand to silence him whilst Wynne looked at him as if she desired him to continue.

"I think I'll talk to him in my office," Irving said suddenly. "Come with me." James followed him through the elegant looking door. He observed the sandy blonde-haired boy hiding behind a pillar watching them. He's following us, James thought. This made him smile. He enjoyed seeing people doing what he would have done in the exact same circumstances. James however was torn between liking this situation and hating it. Normally, he adored attention but right now he wished he was being ignored. Although, apart of him really wanted to met the sandy blonde-haired boy. He followed Irving for a while until they reached what he announced as his office. The room was filled with books and strange objects and chests that was not unlike that of the Headmistress's in Hogwarts. When Irving spoke James's head snapped up.

"So, tell me what happened, young boy, from the moment the templars found you in the cellars."

"Templars?" James asked.

"The men who found you and govern this tower." Irving paused as had a slightly annoyed glance towards the doorway. He was almost looking through James. "They guard and watch over us mages, sometimes for good reason." He finished his irritation sounding as if it was growing, more towards these Templars however rather than James himself.

"Mages?" James asked again, this place was beginning to annoy him as well. He felt stupid.

"I would have to know where you are from to know what term is used from your homeland, now if you don't mind?" James scrunched up his eyes in concentration as he started to relay what he could.

"I don't know, my father works in the Ministry of Magic. I was at work with him one day and I went wondering off, which I know I shouldn't have done – I was bored!" James began to defend himself until Irving just chuckled.

"Youth often thirsts for adventure and oozes curiosity," Irving gestured for James to continue.

"Well, that's when I went into the lift and ended up at level 9 'cause I've heard my mum and dad and their friends talk about in hushed voices but they refused to tell me what it was. I always got a 'some things shouldn't be talked about' rather than them actually telling me. So I went down to see what was there. I found a door and when I walked into it there were all these mirrors and," at this moment a look of comprehension had filled Irving's face but he still told James to continue all the same. "- I touched one and... Here I am," James said attempting to keep his tone light-hearted rather than resentful.

"Well, Mr. Potter," Irving began in a low voice. "I believe this is how you came to this world, but others will not be as... Open-minded." Irving hesitated as he furrowed his brow. "Stick to the story I gave you if anyone, which they will, asks. For the moment you are a young apprentice who is new to the tower who has arrived from Orlais," James opened his mouth to ask but Irving seemed to read his mind and answer his unanswered question. "It's another province, you are currently in Fereldan. Stick to that story -"

"But how will I get home?" James asked in a hushed voice, filling with panic. He longed for a home-cooked meal and a warm fire. He would even settle for his mother's scolding right now.

"Ah, I believe, Mr. Potter, that is for you to discover. You appear to have been brought to our world for a reason." The tone in his voice suddenly switched to louder with much more clarity after this. "Here are your apprentice robes," he handed him some apprentice robes. "I believe young Anders who has been waiting at the door can escort you to the apprentice quarters," he said with a slight sense of humour in his voice. James turned around confused and the young sandy blonde-haired boy from earlier with an embarrassed expression made himself visible and then stood there. He was slightly affronted at being discovered but that suddenly turned to a huge grin. James started to walk forward but turned around to get one last look at Irving who ushered him forward. James walked forward to join step with Anders who stopped immediately as soon as they were out of earshot of Irving.

"So," He began holding out his hand. "I'm Anders." James took it.

"I'm James, James Potter," James replied feeling at ease for the first time since he got here. Anders looked at him curiously.

"I saw those bastard Templars drag you in here," he said sympathetically. James nodded.

"They are complete bastards," he responded a little sadly. He felt Anders comforting hand on his shoulder, a sense of warmth filled him.

"I've ran away, been locked up and beaten more times than I could count, trust me I know. Were you trying to run away too?"

"Something like that," James said with a forced laugh.

"Thank god I'm not the only one with the guts to do it!" Anders responded excitedly. They had started to walk away at this point. "The rest of them," he began but much quieter as they went down a set of stairs. "They just comply to it, the don't realise they are pushed because the Templars need them to be controlled... That's what they want." James assumed they had reached the apprentice quarters at this point because Anders quickly added. "Wait! There's a free bed just above me, you can take that one." He said with a grin on his face. James looked at him curiously, he liked Anders but wondered why people seemed to keep a distance from him - by the sounds of it it sounded as if just because he was willing to stand up to the Templars. If James had never met one he wouldn't take this as a good enough reason. James got up onto the top bunk with his belongings. Anders pointed to the badge on his chest.

"What's that?" He asked curiously.

"It stands for the Tornados," James replied automatically, "The Quidditch team," he added when Anders looked confused. "You don't have Quidditch here?" James ended with shock based on Anders's expression. He shrugged with the same never faltering smile. James laughed as he placed the pillows on his bed in a more comfortable position and Anders climbed up. They sat face to face on his bed. James's curiosity got the better of him.

"How did you end up here?" He asked. Anders face for the first time appeared sad and James immediately regretted asking him.

"The – the Templars took me from my mother when I was little. I don't really remember her," He paused as he played with the blanket. He looked up forcing a smile. "I'm from the Anderfels, I think. How did you end up here?" James shrugged.

"The Templars found me in the cellar before that -" He hesitated. He promised Irving he wouldn't say a word. "- I just ended up... I'm not sure. I think I banged my head or something -" James added pathetically. Anders seemed to believe it however.

"Fair enough," he said.

They stayed up talking for a while until the Templars had deemed it 'lights out'. James wrapped himself in his blanket desperately wishing for it to be his own bed. He longed for his family and his room, a mug of hot chocolate bought up by his mother. His mother's home-cooked food. His irritating younger siblings. He begged for them all right now. All the strength he'd put into not crying over-whelmed him and they all started to run down his face, he was there for a couple of minutes before a familiar dark silhouette pulled himself onto eye-level with him.

"My first night here was hard too," he whispered. James took comfort in this.

"I'm not crying," he whispered back defiantly. Anders laughed quietly.

"Of course not, want some company for a little while?" Anders whispered back.

"Won't you get into trouble with the Templars?" Anders shrugged.

"Oh well." James smiled as Anders got onto his bed. He had originally put his arm around him as James snuggled into him but he got the blanket and attempted to put it over Anders. He took it and they both cuddled close into each other. For the first time since reaching this place James felt safe and wanted as he felt Anders's heartbeat and fell asleep.