What do you need to know about this fic? It's a Harry Potter (Marauder's Era) crossover with Dragon Age (Asunder, mostly.) It's experimental for the most part, as I was curious how the Harry Potter universe would fare if it followed the lore of Dragon Age. Gotta love Harry Potter, but I think Dragon Age has the "magical beings" part figured out a little better. Enjoy.

He felt despair, hopelessness. Fear, some desperation. Uncertainty. He had to be close.

Of course, the feelings were not his own. Cole didn't know why, but he was drawn to the emotions of others. He couldn't ignore it if he tried- despair was contagious, and it radiated from people in a sickening melody which gnawed at his conscious until it might drive him mad.

He came upon the source, a crumpled ball of robes, resting rigidly against the cobbled stone wall in the dungeons. It was a girl, a small, dark-haired girl curled so tightly she appeared even tinier than he thought possible. She was sobbing, evident in the soft quivering of her body. He approached her, slowly at first. She wouldn't see him, of course, not unless he wanted her to. Cole was invisible. Only the people he truly wanted to see him would see him, but even if they did, they would soon forget the encounter. It was his curse.

He seated himself next to her, feeling a little clumsy. He didn't know what was wrong, why this girl was crying, and he didn't know what he was to do about it. He pulled his legs close to his chest, sitting in an almost identical way, and then reached out and put a hand gently on her back. That got her attention. The girl bolted up with a startled gasp, turning to look at him, her eyes red, puffy, and glistening. She wasn't frightened enough to flee; in fact, once she understood that Cole's sentiment was harmless, she resumed her sobbing, this time almost leaning into him until he was forced to embrace her.

"M-my Harrowing is tom-mmorrow," she managed to say, in-between her now uncontrollable sobs. Cole knew what that was. Initiates of the Circle must all pass a test in order to become a full mage. He didn't know what the test involved, but he knew that those who failed it were faced with a choice: the Rite, or death.

"I-I should have ssst-udied more," she continued, her tears now soaking through Cole's sleeve. He didn't mind. He wasn't exactly the 'cleanest' as it was. He'd been wearing some old rags, some leathers for boots, worn and torn in the sleeves and shoulders. Even his hair, which may have once been a fluffy blonde, was matted down upon his head, falling over his ocean-blue eyes like horse straw.

"What is your name?" he asked her, trying to take her mind off of the matter. It didn't help.

"Myrtle! They call me moaning Myrtle, because all I know how to do is moan and cry," her sobs were replaced almost fully with spite. Cole wasn't certain if it was the right thing to ask, but it was too late. "A-and you are...? You know, I've never ss-seen you around before," she sniffed.

Of course not.

"I'm Cole," said he, but he knew she would forget about him soon anyway.

"You must be new here, you don't even have your robes, do you?" she continued, seemingly drawn from her fears. He could feel her calming, which calmed him, but he could still feel her despair. This wasn't her first time sobbing in a lone corridor, he could tell. He remained silent, however, because he wasn't certain how long, exactly, he had been here. Years? Decades? He'd not put much thought into it before.

"You'll be okay," he offered lamely. Her lip quivered, but the tears stopped flowing. In fact, he could feel her emotions ebbing away, and for a moment Cole feared he too might disappear. But it was not so. She relaxed, wiping her eyes with one of her sleeves. She then searched the floor for something, but grew irritated when she couldn't find it.

"Oh, bollocks, she took my glasses," she moaned, burying her face into her hands again, "This is just a disaster."

"Who took them?"

"Olive Hornby!" she said with certainty, "After she was finished telling me a demon would make me cry, and turn me into a sulking abomination!" She seemed close to tears, and so Cole braced himself for another round.

"That is truly awful," he said. She smiled weakly at him.

"You're too kind, Cole. How did you find me all the way down-?"

"Apprentice! It's past curfew, what are you doing outside of your quarters?" The templar, Argus Filch, didn't see Cole. In an instant, it seemed even Myrtle had forgotten him entirely, as she answered: "I-I don't know, ser."

And just like that, Cole was invisible again. The templar took her by the arm and guided her back to the apprentice's quarters. He hoped that she wouldn't be punished. The templar's cat, Mrs. Norris, stalked in his wake, stopping just before where Cole stood and sniffing the air. The cat's lamplight eyes paused on him a moment before she let out a shrill meow and trotted after her caretaker. If animals couldn't normally see him, Mrs. Norris was something special.

His job, however, was not yet concluded.

He had to find this Olive Hornby, and return Myrtle's glasses. Finding her, of course, would prove simple enough. Each apprentice was sorted into different dormitories, based on their family names. Olive would be in the eighth section. Furthermore, they each had their own cots, with one footlocker at the end to hold their belongings (assuming they had any.) Whether or not they used it, the footlocker doubled as a sorting system- their names were each emblazoned onto the top of them, making the occupant of the space fully identifiable by the templars or enchanters- and Cole.

The Hornby footlocker was, however, quite bare, it seemed, save for a couple of textbooks on spirits and the Fade. Cole thumbed at the spine of one of the books. He often wondered what he was. It was clear he was not like any occupant of the Hogwarts Circle of Magi, nor anybody outside of it, for that matter. He could walk into two people, and they would simply walk around him, none the wiser that they even did. He was utterly invisible, utterly unexplainable. He may even have once been a mage here. Was he dead? He might as well have been.

Cole leafed through the pages, finding nothing helpful. He couldn't read very well, truthfully. He'd spent time in the library attempting to read over the mages' shoulders, to no avail. Many of the books were old, the language unfamiliar, or far too advanced for him to even comprehend. It was frustrating. He wished there was someone who could teach him to read, or help him learn something useful to get him out of his situation, but all in all it was a hopeless cycle. He dropped the book into the trunk, and it landed with a shrill 'crack!'

That wasn't how it should have sounded. He lifted the book again, peering inside the container. Sure enough, a pair of wire frames and broken glass littered the bottom. He hoped the glasses didn't shatter because of him. He was sure that Olive had already destroyed them. Scowling, he reached inside, ignoring the cuts in his hands as he collected the broken pieces. Luckily, mages had a spell which could fix them. At least, he thought so, else Myrtle probably wouldn't be seeing very much anytime soon.

Nonetheless, he was pleased by his minor success, and with his arms full of glass, he sought out Mrytle's dorm. It wasn't until he actually went to look that he realised the problem he faced- she never did tell him her full name. There would be a lot of dormitories to search before he found her. He was joined by a pair of templars making their rounds.

"I dunno mate, I feel a little bad for the girl," one said as they passed.

"The girl? I would feel sorry for First Enchanter Armando. This is the second time he's been summoned post-midnight for an emergency ritual."

Cole felt cold as they passed. The girl? Not Myrtle?

"I know what Argus said, but the girl's Harrowing was scheduled for tomorrow. It wouldn't hurt to wait a little and give her a chance, would it?"

"It's a chance we shouldn't take. You know what happens when the mages consort with demons."

"I know, but not all-"

"Any mage. Did your training teach you nothing? Even the most experienced of mages can fall prey to demons. She'll be safer after the Rite. Just forget about it. Let's get this over with and get back to sleep."

The chill creeping down his spine sent violent shudders down his entire body. They were going to make her Tranquil. Cole sunk to the floor, the glass dropping around him. He curled into a ball, much like the way Myrtle was hiding in the corridor. He'd failed her. He shouldn't have left her side, when she needed him the most. Was it too late? His heart started, knowing suddenly that he was wasting time. He could save her. The Rite wouldn't be invoked without the First Enchanter present. He still had time.

He raced past the templars. He knew the chamber was located on one of the topmost floors of the tower. He'd seen the Rite performed, once, out of mere curiosity. It was a horrible thing to witness. The mage was begging for a second chance. The templars ignored him as a Chantry sister recited a prayer for the mage, a failed attempt of calming him. Then, the Knight-Commander raised his hand, his entire palm engulfing the mage's face. There was a scream, a blinding light, and suddenly- silence.

He wouldn't wish such a fate on anyone. The Rite of Tranquility was a last resort defence against mages believed unable to resist a demon. It stripped them completely of their connection to the Fade, which effectively amputates them of their powers. Doing so came at a great cost to the mage. A mage made Tranquil was unable to feel emotions such as fear and desire. They couldn't even dream as they slept. They simply existed as husks of their former selves, and were known by Templars as being overly obedient. The sad truth was that a Tranquil was obedient simply because they had no cause not to be. A Tranquil had no goals, no desires, and no passions. They were merely content to be.

Myrtle's screams drew him from his thoughts. He was close now, and he could almost taste her fear. It was bitter. It made his tongue dry and his throat sore. He could hear the Chantry sister reciting her prayers for her. Like before, it did nothing to sway her pleading. When he opened the door to the chamber, Myrtle was bound in place, arms spread and unable to move as the Knight-Commander circled her.

"Please, please," she sobbed, "I wasn't talking to demons. You've got to believe me…"

Argus Filch stood aside, his cat purring contentedly in his arms. Cole could feel the anger swelling in his chest just seeing the man. There was no doubt in his mind that Argus had told the Knight-Commander she was summoning a demon. More than likely, he thought that she was talking to herself, when she was really speaking to him. There were mixed emotions, almost more than he could handle. As much as he wanted to think Argus was to blame, he knew it was partly his fault. Myrtle was caught speaking to him, and since Argus couldn't see Cole, she must have been conversing with demons. Her run-in with Olive Hornby did nothing to help the issue. Cole really was at a loss as the disturbing thought entered his mind.

Am I a demon?

"Give me another chance, please!" she wailed, bringing Cole back to the present. First Enchanter Armando Dippet entered at that moment, and Myrtle began begging him to change the templars' minds. "Don't do this to me! Won't you let me have my Harrowing?! Give me a chance! I'll prove to you that I'm not maleficar!"

The First Enchanter, however, paid her no mind. He instead stood somewhere to the Knight-Commander's left, and folded his hands together in sad vigil. Realising that he would not be taking her side, Myrtle let out a pitiful weep.

"Please… don't let them do this to me… I would rather die…"

Cole appeared in front of her, and her beautiful chocolate eyes lifted in faint recognition. He knew she wouldn't remember him, but right now it didn't matter. He would offer her mercy where nobody here would. He put a thumb and index finger under her chin, lifting her head just enough to meet him.

"I want you to look into my eyes," he whispered. She did so, and he watched the life drain from them as his dagger entered her heart.

May or may not continue. This has my interest firmly for the moment, so don't lose hope if you wish for more.
No, Cole will not be "paired" with anyone. Obvious reasons. No, I don't plan to write every chapter from his point of view. Yes, if I continue, this fic will follow Tom Riddle as well as the Marauders, and possibly spill a little bit into Harry's time, but it is all yet to be seen. Please leave a review if you enjoyed it (or not.) Thanks!