Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Warcraft III or frozen throne. I just wish I did.


Harry Potter/ Warcraft III crossover


BlackRock and Roll

By: Mage-Alia

Chapter 3: Hearthglen


Summary: Harry has been in danger for most of his life, but the stakes are raised indefinitely when he is swept through space and time to Lorderon near the beginning of the invasion of the burning legion and the rise of the Scourge. Now, he's on his own with no allies or friends, just himself and an iron will to survive his new hell.

AU, No Pairings.


Jaina Proudmore pondered over the words of the mysterious mage that had come to the magical center of Dalaran to warn her master Antonidas, of a great looming threat over the land. As an agent for the Kirin Tor she had been trained to see beneath the words and actions of the people she spied on and what surprised her was that the mage had been completely and utterly convinced that his path was the right course of action against the threat no one had even whispered about. Her master hadn't believed him, and even if he had, he was far to stubborn willed to leave the city and her secrets undefended. He had ordered her not to pursue the instructions of the mage but she couldn't help the faint protests that sprang from her sub-conscious.

What if the actions the Mage described where the right course of action after all?

"You can come out now Jaina." Antonidas looked right at her hiding place in the shadows of one of the great statues placed in the great Violet Gardens.

"Ah, master, forgive my eavesdropping but…" She had been about to mention the man's utter belief when Antonidas cut her off.

"Ah Jaina, I believe it is part of your inquisitive nature… Something I have often come to rely on." She flushed at the praise and opened her mouth again before the elder waved his staff. Jaina, the mage and his horse where all teleported to a balcony above the training grounds. A few priests lingered around the railings, watching two student Sorcerers duking it out in the practice arena.

"As you might already know." The older mage began. "There have been rumors of a plague to the north." Jaina looked at him sharply, recognizing the official tone of voice.

"Yes, I've heard of it, it is said the Plague might be magical in nature." Antonidas nodded gravely.

"It is for that reason I am sending you on a mission to discover the cause of the plague. I have already arranged for you to be escorted north by a special envoy." Jaina watched his darkening expression and thought better about enquiring about the crazy mage. She could tell that some of what he had said had managed to take hold of her master's mind. For all his surly bluster, he really did care for the inhabitance of Lorderon. Jaina sighed mentally and gave a short bow to the Archmage.

"I'll be leaving right away, master." With that, she activated the return transportation spell and took herself back to the Violet Garden, ignoring the sudden uproar around them as one of the sparing sorcerers turned their opponent into a sheep and flounced off the field in a huff.

She had to pack some things first.


The tracks of the soldiers and 'Arthas' had lead him through at least two more towns before he managed to catch up with them. Everywhere he'd looked, there was evidence of death and destruction. In one large town what looked to be all the grain harvested for a year had been piled up in the center of the village green and set alight along with five other store houses around the area. The people that had managed to avoid detection of the army where wondering around in a daze, all looking as gruesomely horrific as the first little boy he'd been forced to kill.

Being a wizard, and having learned subconsciously what different types of magic felt like he knew this monster making sickness was a product of the deepest dark arts, fascinating and terrifying, all at the same time.

Occasionally, one or two of the sick villagers he passed weren't so far gone as the others. They either watched him from the darkness of their ruined homes or lunged at him, begging for death before they too succumbed to the urges to kill, maim and cannibalize. Harry had been somewhat disconnected as he sent a cutting curse through their spinal cord and set them alight.

Now, he was seated in the trees surrounding a town.

The high conifer gave him camouflage while its towering height afforded him a view of the surrounding area. Houses where lined neatly inside a low unfortified stone wall. There where a few manned guard towers set at the breaks in the walls, and a small squad of the regional guards practicing with weapons in a cobbled courtyard beside the forge but other than them, there was little else. Nearly slithering across the branches, he moved to a place where he could see the gate closest to the direction he'd come from. Traveling in the night he'd accidentally overtaken the very soldiers he'd been following but as they limped into town Harry felt his blood run cold.

Walking at the head of the columns of exhausted men was a familiar aristocratic blonde.

In an instant the whispers in the back of his mind turned to inarticulate roars and shrieks of outrage. This was 'Prince Arthas'? He watched as he and a woman wearing a deep purple cloak patterned with stars and moons that reminded him of a set of Dumbledore's robes, approached the captain of the local guard and moved down the tree toward the shadows of the wall where he could listen to what they where saying. It was difficult to hear at first, with the cataphony in his mind, but soon enough, the snarl that had previously silenced them returned and the voices of the three became audible.

"… and last night there was a sudden increase in the numbers of the undead. They began to band together and started to attack most of the other villages in the area. We don't know if the other villages survived and weave been completely cut off, but were prepared for the worst." The captain waved to the scattering of men still doing drills. Arthas wore a horrified sort of look as he turned toward the cloaked woman.

"Jaina! I need you to find Uther!" Jaina looked at him incredulously.

"Even if I did make it to him there's no way that he'd get here in time to save the village!" Arthas leaned forward to look under the shadows of her hood.

"I'll hold the men here as long as I can, just hurry and bring back help." Jaina gave him a 'look' before spinning on her heel and running out the gate. Harry pressed himself to the wall as she passed and watched with mild interest as the air around her filled with symbols. They glowed brighter as they began to take effect and she looked back over her shoulder toward the village when something caught her eye. There, huddled in the shadow of the wall was a dragon… no… not a dragon, someone wearing its skin. Under the dark glassy eyes she could see sparks of brilliant green that glinted faintly as they watched her.

She opened her mouth to call to him but by then the teleportation spell was complete and she was spun away toward Uther's destination. As the spell spat her out at the entry to a large tent it struck her that this was the second time she'd seen someone dressed as a beast in as many weeks and concern began to worm its way into her heart. Maybe Uther would listen to her instead…


Harry watched the mage leave before he returned his attention to the Murderer. The blonde Paladin had wondered over to a pile of opened crates by a grain storage bin and his eyes widened in shock. He beckoned over the Captain and asked what had been in the boxes.

"Nothing important milord." The soldier assured him. "It was just the grain shipment, its already been distributed to the villagers.

Arthas went as white as a ghost.

"Oh no." He turned around yelling at the soldiers to defend themselves as the sick villagers made themselves apparent, their forms wasting away before their eyes, almost as if they'd been fed a new and better plague that worked at twice the rate. They lunged mindlessly for fresh meat and those not in amour ran for cover as the soldiers stepped forward. Harry felt a vindictive sort of pleasure at the look of horrified pain on the paladins face before the blonde joined the battle, his powerful healing spells doing more damage than an iron blade.

He remained in his place by the wall, protected by shadows and trees. In an almost childish gesture he dragged the tail of the hide from under him and draped it across his arms, holding it to his chest. Dragons were far from the cleanest creatures on the planet and the last time he'd had anything close to a bath was crossing the river nearly three weeks ago. He idly began to pick dirt from between the scales and plain ignored the battle behind him until a panicked villager ran through the unprotected gate perused by a single bent undead corpse. The woman ran right at him in her efforts to escape and didn't even realize he was there until she'd tripped right over him. She gave a startled shriek and tried to scramble away as he stood, dropping his tail and giving the Undead a blank look, right before the he sent it up in flames. The woman, still sobbing in horror leapt at him, almost sticking to his side once her mind had classified him as safety.

Harry stared down at her head, face still blank.

He loved the thought of the paladin suffering for murdering his… family, but these villagers really didn't deserve the fate they had been dealt.

And if there was one thing he knew better than anything, it was that fate was a bitch.

Sighing he muttered a stunning spell and the woman fell limp. Picking her up he slung an arm over his shoulder and dragged her back toward the gate. Peeking around the corner confirmed the Paladin wasn't there and he strode toward the nearest surviving villager, dumping her at his feet Harry ignored the resulting shout and vanished off into the shadows again. He found his prey on the other side of the village by another gate organizing the available defenses.

"Hold your ground!" He was yelling motivation. "We are the chosen of the light and we shall not fall!" The men cheered for him but Harry just felt the urge to gag. Wondering why he'd ever listened to that sort of thing before. After witnessing so much death, the light and those who fought for it where the last people he would believe, at least the darkness didn't lie to itself and everyone else for the sake of propaganda. Green eyes glanced speculatively at the soldiers and wondered how they where ever going to fight off the undead until the reinforcements arrived. They looked half dead themselves.

Harry shook his head pityingly and moved back from the gate finding a point further down the wall where he could climb atop it and from there move out into the trees ahead of the defending soldiers. From his new perch he could see the entry to the road that lead into the village from the west. He'd stay here as a watchman for the villagers, but for them only.

Arthas, could still go to hell for all he cared.


The day was passing slowly for the defenders as the attacks from Undead raiding parties eventually became more frequent. Strangely enough, they came in groups of much smaller numbers than they'd been expecting. They'd had it easy up until now.

TPTWEEEEEEET

A shrill whistle echoed from up the trail and the soldiers hauled themselves back to their feet, grumbling slightly as they pushed the non-combatants back behind the walls and stood at the ready. They'd discovered earlier on that the whistle signified a fresh wave of the Undead and thus, they where always ready when a new lot came around the bend.

"GRRRRRAAAA!" A few of the men cringed in disgust as a few Ghouls lumbered ahead of an enormous bloated Abomination. This was going to be one of the harder fights.

"Should have been a farmer like my mother wanted me to be, but nooo, I had to be a soldier…" The Captain of the towns guard grumbled to himself as he gripped his blade and a dwarf gunner snickered tipsily before offering him a flask of some noxious alcoholic substance he'd been drinking since long before the first attack. The Captain snatched it and took a few gulps, more than grateful that if he survived this, he wasn't going to remember a damn thing.

No wonder the Dwarves where such a happy bunch.

"Alright men! CHARGE!" Clanking amour clad men rushed forward to take care of the problem. Ghouls fell easily, the vital areas to their continued function not covered in any sort of amour, but the Abomination wasn't so easy. It swung one of its giant weapons and hooked a soldier, unfortunate enough to be within striking distance of the enormous meat hook. His scream was cut off prematurely as his neck broke but in the few seconds the creature was shaking the corpse loose they had a chance to strike and one of the men, still healthy enough to move at top speed in their amour darted in, dragging his sword across the stitches that where precariously holding in the Undead thing's guts.

It gave a wounded bellow as hot stinking intestines splattered across the cobblestones beneath their feet and it lashed out with the meat cleaver in it's other hand, sending another poor soldier flying.

"Whoa!" Arthas yelled in surprise when he was nearly bowled over by a flying soldier and took a moment to help him to his feet before he dashed in and brought down his glowing hammer head across the Undead Abomination's back. It gave another bellow and more of its mash of internal organs slid out of the gaping hole in its stitches before it fell forward, dying… for real this time.

The men still standing paused and listened for a long moment before they fell around against the sides of the road in relief. Arthas stared at them.

"What's going on here?" The blonde peered from one tired face to another as the few priests they had at their disposal reemerging from the gate. The captain rolled his eyes up to look at him from where he'd collapsed and sighed mentally before answering the prince, still wondering why he hadn't been a farmer.

"My Leige, when we hear the whistle we'll have to fight again, but until then we have a chance to recover." He might have sounded like he was being smart with the royal but the captains strength was flagging and he didn't particularly care right then. Arthas stared at the men before looking back in the direction of the other gate that lay further north of them. He'd been there fighting tooth and nail with the others just to keep the watchtowers from being destroyed and here was the other half of his forces lazing around like they where playing with bandits instead of fighting a desperate battle against the undead.

"Captain, I'm here because scouts reported seeing Necromancers and an Abomination enroute to this gate." The soldier looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Ain't been no mages down here, sire." He said shortly. "Just them." He gestured to the corpses of the abomination and the ghouls that where rapidly decomposing now that there was no magic that could sustain them.

Arthas frowned.

"That's strange…" He trailed off and gestured to a Soldier that had followed him from the other gate before leading the way down the road. Rounding the trees the loose cobblestones gave way to a natural thoroughfare that had been worn down recently by the undead passing through. Directly ahead on them was a swampy lake and further to the north the trees curved back toward Hearthglen.

Leaving the soldier as a look out he examined the mess of tracks on the ground. Arthas wasn't a proficient tracker, but it wasn't a skill he needed as he found fragments of the gaudy orange and purple robe that Necromancers where fond of. Examining the area he found the remains of quite a few different Undead creatures and couldn't help but wonder what was destroying them.

"Sir!" Arthas turned sharply to look at the soldier and found him pointing up into the trees with his blade. The blonde followed his gaze and noticed something dark slithering through the branches. Without a thought to what it might be he plunged into the tightly packed trees, slapping away the branches that whipped him across the face. A flurry of activity above told him he'd been seen and the black form sped back toward the direction of the village wall. Arthas let loose a blistering curse and backed out the way he'd come before he heard the rattle of moving bones.

"Your Highness! Hurry!" The soldier he'd left was on the brink of panicking and beyond him was a group of the Undead moving right for them! Arthas took one look at them before he gestured to the Soldier and belted off back toward the gate. The lazing defenders jumped up when they saw him and gripped weapons nervously when the saw the pursuing undead.

Where was their warning?

Seeing they where ready Arthas left the soldiers to fight and ran back into the village before he noticed more movement from the corner of his eye. He followed the black creature as it left behind all thoughts of hiding and ran in clear view of the people. Villagers jumped away in shock as it weaved between them and practically fled when Arthas came barreling after it. It lead the blonde on a wild chase before it bolted through the lightly guarded gate opposite the one it had been watching. Startled shouts went up from the guards as he ran out into the forest, close behind, leaving the village to defend itself.


Harry cursed as he found the paladin was still following.

He'd taken up the watch as his contribution to keeping the remaining villagers alive, and every time one of the despicable magic users had passed him he'd picked them up, leaving the melee type's like the fat abominations and the hunched skeletons to the guards. He would have gladly stayed there too, but then the blonde had shown up and his first instinct had been to flee.

So he did.

Now he was running down the unpaved forest roads, cursing prince Arthas with every step. He didn't want to have to deal with him now but if he had to keep running any longer he'd eventually be caught. He'd used a lot of magic while playing sniper from the trees. He skidded to a halt when he realized that he'd reached another village.

It was eerily quiet.

Taking a few heaving breaths he looked around, trying to find a good hiding spot before the bloody prince caught up.

Clank

To late.

"HEY! YOU THERE!" Harry half turned, sparks forming around his claws as he instinctively drew out his magic. Arthas took a step back in surprise when he saw the bright green eyes glaring out at him underneath the familiar hide he only just recignised.

"You!" The blonde took a few steps toward him, only to stop when Harry backed away, hissing slightly.

"Don't come near me Murderer!" He held up a claw defensively and Arthas flinched back.

"Why did you run away?" He asked lowering his hammer and looking at him sadly. "We where only trying to help you." Harry scowled magnificently.

"You didn't help me! You killed them! Even the whelps! They did nothing to me, or you, but you hunted them down anyway!" Arthas felt his mouth go slack in shock.

"You… you liked them?" He asked, not really comprehending what the boy was saying. "But, those dragons had been raiding the area for months. They killed villagers and ruined crops, they needed to be destroyed before they could hurt anyone else." Harry let his arms drop, fists clenching convulsively as he fought against the overwhelming rage that threatened to overtake him and the voices in his mind that where screaming for blood.

"They… saved… me." He ground out slowly, his whole body beginning to shake. "The orcs killed them, killed everyone, even my family." He spat out the last word like a curse. "Searinox took me in, he killed orcs to save me AND YOU KILLED HIM!" His eyes met those of the blonde and with a speed he'd never thought possible flung up a clawed arm, a bight green fireball forming without any words. Before Arthas could blink it was barreling through the air toward him and he only just managed to get out of the way before it hit, but not before it singed his hair. He rolled, bringing his hammer to bear as spell after spell was hurled his way each one getting harder to dodge.

Getting sick of staying on the defensive Arthas dipped into his precious mana reserves and cast a spell of his own.

"Divine Sheild!" A golden orb of light rose up around him and he stopped running, the green fireballs splashing across it and going out. There was a growl from the distraught child and he knew he didn't have much time. He dashed forward and lashed out with his weapon. The mighty hammer swung through the air, heading right for the boy's face, but in spite of his speed the boy was faster. He became nothing more than a black blur as he ducked out of the way, scrambling backwards before leaping back for him, claws leading the way. Arthas met the attack head on, but he hadn't anticipated the strength of the dragon's claws.

His armor had been made for him as a gift from the dwarven king on his twentieth birthday. It had consisted of some of the finest metals and alloys all chosen for their resistance against any sort of weapon, but now the gauntlet on his arm fell apart before his eyes as the claws pierced them, marking the flesh beneath.

The hide clad boy backed off and growled again but as he scanned the area he noted something else emerging from the woods…

"Shit!" Harry swore as he abruptly regained his sanity, having it snap back into place as he saw the undead approaching in formation around a caravan of barbaric meat wagons. Their eyes glowed with cruel intelligence that was different from the mindless swarms that had been attacking the village in the first place, these where the cause of the problem, he could be certain of it. He looked toward the place the paladin had been standing, only to find the pieces of the broken gauntlet as the only reminder that he'd even been there. Harry looked up and glanced to the trail he'd followed here in time to see the blonde legging it in the other direction.

"Coward!" Harry hissed, truly disgusted that the prince had chosen to run and fight the symptom instead of staying to fight the cause. He turned back and eyed the Necromancer that had stepped away from the rest of the convoy. The dark haired boy repressed the urge to gag at the purely offensive dark stench of magic he gave off and settled on glaring as vehemently as he could through the eyes of Searinox's skull. The necromancer eyed him back.

"Ah, a fellow practitioner of the black arts." The thing said, nodding approvingly at the hide draped around him. Harry sneered at him in return.

"I'm no practitioner, you reeking necrophiliac." He intended it for an insult, but the Necromancer just chuckled, showing absolutely no shame. He waved it off and moved to circle him.

"So then, what should I call you?" He wondered. "You have a powerful talisman there, your presence would be welcome in the ranks of the undead. You could be great, you know." Harry froze up when he heard that. They where the same words wizards had said to him, over and over from the moment he'd laid foot in the wizarding world.

"HAH! Greatness has nothing to do with it." With that he lunged for the necromancer, fully intending to rip off his head, but before he could reach him two skeletons sprung up from the ground to intercept him. The lumbering abominations and grunts walking alongside the caravan all moved forward to swarm him.

"Brothers! We must not loose the shipment or the Master will have our hides." A shout echoed eerily from the side of the convoy just as Harry's first spell ripped through the skeletons and burned the necromancer's bright orange robes. For a single triumphant moment his growing sadistic streak was treated to the sight of the old undead mage hopping around in an attempt to put it out before the first of the grunts reached him. He'd already thrown them off by the time he recognized the feel of his magic slipping away. He'd been fighting from the trees for hours before his outburst toward Arthas. Looking at how many more there where to fight Harry reacted on instinct and instinct chose flight.

So turning tail he ran from the village via the opposite end from which he'd entered and into the wilderness once more.


A/N: Ah… stopping here for now.

So in this chapter we meet another major character. Jaina has a lot more to do with the story after this and Arthas should be passing out of it in the next chapter or so… so sorry to anyone who actually liked him…As for Harry, I might as well make it clear now that he's on the brink of going absolutely nuts. He's so overstressed by the events that his insanity began to manifest itself as a mild avenger streak.

Oh, and someone was wondering if Searinox transferred some sort of memory in the first chapter when he met Harry's eyes just before his death. He didn't actually do anything, everything Harry hears or feels now is pretty much a direct result of his own psychosis affecting his magic.

Don't forget to review!

Cya

P.S. As to some of the other stories… I'm sorry it's taking so long to update but I've just started working again so most of the time I would spend Writing is now used for other things. I'll work on them in dribs and drabs but since when have people actually expected regular updates from me?