So, this is basically a revision of Yesterday's Wizard, Tomorrow's World. I realised that Harry did jump a little too eagerly to head to the future, so I changed things around so he ended up in the future inadvertently, and he and Tali are unaware of the soulbond until much later. Whether this gets posted as a full story or not is still up in the air, though it's getting close to that point. A few more chapters beyond my usual 20K word threshold, and I'll do so.

In other news, I'm still working on a So I'm a Spider, So What? crossover, but I'm shelving the current iteration for now. I have a few other ideas for it, though, so such a crossover might come out one of these days.

Another possible crossover, and a very exciting one, is with Resident Evil: Village, which I've started playing recently. Some of you might remember my story Henry Ashford and the Goblet of Fire. I'm considering doing something not-dissimilar, as a WBWL fic. I initially thought of Harry being raised by either Mother Miranda or else one of the Four Lords, but I'm currently leaning towards Harry being adopted by the Duke of all people. I am aware of a similar such story being written by Naruto Senju Otsutsuki (Resident Evil Potter: Brothers Forever), and after consultation with them, they have given me permission to write my own WBWL fic, especially as I am taking things in a somewhat different direction to their fic. It'll have a Harry/Bela Dimitrescu pairing at the minimum, though if this WBWL fic falls through, I have another potential story where Harry takes the place of Ethan...though for reasons that I'm not quite willing to divulge yet. Let's say that, in that story, the events of the seventh game never happened.

That being said, I do have some sad news. I have decided to abandon and archive a number of my older fics, namely sequels I have made to earlier fics that I have simply lost interest and motivation for. Specifically, my Final Fantasy IX crossover Xenophobia, my Final Fantasy X-2 crossover Revenge of Shuyin, and my Resident Evil crossover Henry Ashford and the Wrath of Marcus. I will be keeping Holiday, the fourth of my Cetra Heritage Final Fantasy VII crossovers, and Just How Can a Computer Do Magic?!, my Portal crossover, out, just in case. In fact, I am seriously considering a oneshot pseudo-sequel to my Portal crossovers...but as a different crossover. What crossover? A little hint: what games other than the Portal games has GLaDOS appeared in?

In any case, during September, I will be archiving Xenophobia, Revenge of Shuyin, and Henry Ashford and the Wrath of Marcus in the relevant compilations. I'm sorry for fans of those stories, but that's the way the cookie crumbles. I prefer to have more chapters and wordcount for fics before letting them lie fallow, but I got too enthusiastic about writing and posting sequels instead of ensuring they had a substantial wordcount.

Anyway, here's Quarian's Wizard. I hope you enjoy...


QUARIAN'S WIZARD

CHAPTER 1:

NOT-SO-IMAGINARY FRIEND

The Citadel. A vast space station that sat at the centre, politically and culturally if not literally, at the heart of the galaxy. A thing of engineered beauty, hanging within the lavender clouds of the Serpent Nebula. A symbol of good governance and unity amongst the peoples of the galaxy.

But like all such places, seemingly utopian, it had more than its fair share of shadows clinging to it.

The Citadel itself was filled with places where the law was, at best, a set of guidelines to follow. Even a seemingly utopian space station had its underclasses and underbelly. Duct rats, mercenaries, crime lords, smugglers…theoretically, Citadel Security, better known as C-Sec, was meant to police the Citadel and catch these malfeasants. But C-Sec, despite the efforts of Executor Pallin to instil discipline, was filled with the corrupt and the prejudiced. And Pallin's efforts sometimes did more harm than good to the more competent officers under his aegis.

But it is not just on the Citadel itself that its more unpleasant side is shown. The decisions that the Citadel Council have made over the millennia have too-often proven to be calamitous or callous. True, they have done great things, but it's not for nothing that the Citadel Council faces considerable resentment from many quarters.

Take the Rachni and the Krogan. When the Rachni were unleashed upon the galaxy, the Salarians hurriedly uplifted the Krogan to fight them, not realising the consequences. But the Krogan, fast-breeding, hard to kill and belligerent, eventually turned on their would-be masters to try and conquer at least part of the galaxy. The newly-discovered Turians helped beat them back, but what really cast a pall over matters was the Genophage. The Salarians created the Genophage as a deterrent, a bioweapon designed to sharply reduce the birth rate of the Krogan…but the Turians used it anyway. The Krogans became bitter, resentful outcasts, many of them leaving their wasteland of a homeworld to become mercenaries who yearned for the glory days when the Citadel trembled at their name.

The Batarians were more recent outcasts. Discontent had roiled within Citadel Space for some time about the Batarian Hegemony, their caste system based on their religion, and, worst of all, their rapacious desire for slaves and territory. Although they claimed the slaves captured were by rogue elements, and they couldn't be officially gainsayed, it was an open secret that the upper echelons of the Batarian Hegemony not only approved, but desired it.

The advent of humanity, a newcomer to galactic politics, upset the apple cart somewhat. Though their actions fighting against the Turians during what humanity would later call the First Contact War had many sit up and take notice, it was their fighting against the Batarians that threw a light onto the Citadel Council's indolence. True, little could be proved, but even with the Asari influence of diplomacy over conflict, something could and should have been done.

The Batarians claimed that the humans were taking territories in the Skyllian Verge that had been rightfully the Hegemony's. The Council refused to concede to the Batarians. This lead to an infamous series of conflicts which saw the Batarians launch a series of pirate raids against human colonies. The humans' Systems Alliance retaliated, and the Batarians more or less withdrew from Citadel Space. The Citadel, however, seemed content to allow the humans and Batarians to war with each other, perhaps to weaken a pair of upstart species.

But one of the most glaring examples of outcasts in Citadel Space, and thus one of its most glaring injustices, were the Quarians.

Centuries ago, the Quarians developed robotic servitors that were piloted by an array of programs. The programs and the robots they inhabited were known as 'Geth'. The Geth eventually became sentient artificial intelligences. The Quarians panicked, as the development of full-blown AIs was illegal by Council law. A war ensued, and the Quarians were forced off their homeworld of Rannoch, and their other colonies.

And when they appealed to the Council for help, they received none. Less than none, for their punishment of exile from Rannoch wasn't deemed enough by the Citadel. As if delighting in salting the wounds, they stripped the Quarians of their embassy. Soon, the Quarians became pariahs, with only their technical skills having them being tolerated by the galaxy at large. Any attempts to establish a new colony on worlds suited to them were shot down, partly by their own desire to retake their homeworld and colonies, but also by the spite of the Citadel Council for unleashing the Geth on the galaxy.

This isn't to say the Quarians were wholly victims in this. They tried to smother a newborn species in the cradle, so to speak. Their actions after establishing what became the Migrant Fleet didn't help matters: exiling criminals, even violent ones, to other worlds, or strip-mining worlds the Fleet came across, even if they were settled by other colonists. And they became insular, and at best apathetic to galactic affairs, and at worst, sneering at them.

But the Quarians had a lot of injustices perpetrated against them. This cannot be denied. They were barely above the likes of the Batarians, the Krogan, and the Vorcha in terms of the most-reviled sentient beings in the galaxy (though whether Vorcha counted as sentient was a matter of not inconsiderable debate amongst scientists), and with less reason.

And yet, a young Quarian would hold the key to saving the galaxy from a dangerous threat. One that had wiped out the Protheans and many a civilisation prior. And someone wanted her dead…


Tali'Zorah nar Rayya was not in a good mood. It wasn't helped by the antibiotics and medications her bloodstream was flooded with to counteract the injuries she had sustained over the past couple of days. Nausea was already an intimate friend, as it would be to any Quarian, but it was still unpleasant, as was the pain.

She was at least grateful that Dr Chloe Michel was a nice person. After dealing with so many apathetic or antagonistic people on her Pilgrimage, it was good to meet someone who would help her out of altruism. It helped her deal with the pain. Not the physical pain, but rather, the emotional pain.

Her Pilgrimage had been fucked up. From the moment she deactivated and hacked a Geth, and recovered that audio file from the otherwise purged data core, her life had taken a distinct turn for the worse. Treat like shit on first Illium and then the Citadel, shot at, watching as her allies died…Tali wept quietly beneath her visor, the water reclamation system in her helmet absorbing her tears and recycling it. She'd switched off her external speaker and made her visor completely opaque from the outside to give her the privacy needed for that.

There was no comfort here. She'd gotten those who helped her on this Pilgrimage killed, and given how she was being hunted, and those fucking bosh'tets on the Council would probably never listen to her, even if she somehow made the waiting queue to see them magically go away, she was dead soon anyway. She had dirt on one of their oh-so-precious SPECTREs, that Saren fucking Arterius was partly responsible for a recent raid on Eden Prime, leading an army of Geth. Judging by the short audio file, there had been a bloody Prothean Beacon on that world, a human colony if she recalled, and it would lead them to something called a Conduit, and the return of the Reapers, a machine race the Geth worshipped as deities.

If only he was here. An imaginary friend, a human of all things, she had seen in her dreams since she was young. A source of comfort and peace. Well, more often than not. Keelah, they'd had some huge arguments, especially about the Geth. They had a bad one shortly before her Pilgrimage, and she hadn't wanted to see him again. That lasted all of when she had to flee after retrieving the Geth data. And now, she hadn't spoken to him since.

Heh. To think an imaginary friend elicited such strong emotions from her, and from a human to boot. But in her dreams, she was free of her suit. In her dreams, he comforted her. And she comforted him.

Her Omni-Tool chirped, and she frowned. She was being called, and from an unknown person. Given what she had been through, she was understandably wary of answering it. Eventually, however, she did so, albeit remaining silent.

A voice, warped and flanging, emanated from the speaker, as an image of a strange symbol that resembled an 'F' in human writing appeared(1). "Tali'Zorah nar Rayya? Forgive me for my presumption in contacting you, but you are in possession of something of not-inconsiderable value, to the right people. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Wotan."

Wotan…a newcomer onto the galactic information broking scene, though they quickly rivalled the Shadow Broker, their nearest competitor. Like the Shadow Broker, virtually nothing was known about Wotan, only that it was possible that they were human, or else fans of human culture, as Wotan was another name for Odin, a god from one of their cultures. She learned about this from her honorary aunt, Admiral Shala'Raan.

Tali frowned. While it was not unheard-of for Wotan to seek people out on their own initiative, she couldn't be sure this was the real deal. "Are you really?"

"If you believe otherwise, you may seek out an information broker who works for me and the Shadow Broker, a Volus financier by the name of Barla Von. Tali'Zorah, I am already aware that you have incriminating information regarding the recent attack on Eden Prime."

"Let me guess, you'd like to purchase it?"

"No. Or at least, it hasn't become necessary to purchase it as of yet," Wotan said. "Actually, if I wished to, I could easily take the information off your Omni-Tool. Indeed, I have already copied it for my own archives, in case Saren Arterius' assassins succeed in murdering you. If that is the case, I will send the Migrant Fleet substantial compensation, and get the information where it's needed."

Tali couldn't help but blink. "You hacked my Omni-Tool? But…"

"Yes, you have some impressive defences, but unfortunately, you left a few backdoors open. Sorry." The warped, flanging voice did manage to sound contrite. "In any case…in a short while, a ship known as the Normandy will be docking here. They had just been involved in countering the raid on Eden Prime. They'll be interested in this audio file. Hopefully, they'll bring it to the attention of the Council. Their current ambassador is an arse of the highest order, but he's good at badgering the Council into giving an audience, and the possibility of a rogue SPECTRE is a concerning one."

"And in exchange for you taking the information from me, what is my compensation?" Tali asked icily. She hated to sound so mercantile or ungrateful, but past events had left her understandably wary.

"When you have the opportunity, come to Noveria. I will have my people meet you there. If you're lucky, your Pilgrimage will end with a spectacular success. However, I have work to do. I'll be sending someone off the Normandy to pick you up, by the name of Commander Jeanne Shepard. She will say 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good', and you should reply 'Mischief managed'."

Tali felt her heart skip a beat. She knew those phrases. Perhaps Wotan might be on her side after all. "But that means…"

"So you do recognise that phrase? Well…a shame he isn't around to see you. Take that, then, as a measure of the trust I am placing in you. We'll talk later, Tali. I would suggest lying low for a while, until I can direct Shepard to you. Good luck…"

The call ended, and Tali stared at the display. Could she trust this? Only the phrase Wotan uttered, the phrase he had uttered, had her considering otherwise. But that would mean her imaginary friend was real, and yet…

Before she could continue that train of thought, wind began to blow through the clinic. Tali frowned. It was hard to get wind on a space station, and even on one as large as the Citadel, it only happened in wide spaces, either near where the aircars flew by, or else in spaces large enough to have their own climate. But it shouldn't happen in a relatively small place like this.

Sand seemed to be stirring in a corner of the room, not far from where she was sitting. Another anomaly: aside from artificial beaches they had in some of the upmarket parts of the Citadel, sand was impossible to find. And yet, a small whirlwind of sand was forming in the corner…as was a figure. The figure seemed to shimmer out of the very air, his hair and clothes blowing in the wind, mouth open in a silent scream, though of pain or despair, she couldn't tell. A human, dressed in robes.

Then, the sand dissipated, and the young man collapsed to the floor. Tali hurried over, as did Dr Michel, and Michel turned him over. And that's when a short, sharp gasp escaped Tali's throat.

The human was about her age, with pale skin and a messy mop of dark hair, the latter almost obscuring a faded scar, like a bolt of lightning. Glasses, obsolete in this day and age of gene therapy and surgery, sat askew on his nose. His form was thin and lanky.

And what was more, she knew that face…


It had been a long time since he could perceive anything but the storm surrounding him. The sand whipping at him. It felt like an eternity before finally, that sensation receded, leaving unconsciousness in its wake.

In his dreams, he lamented the obsession that left him in this state. How the Unspeakables' actions had caused this accident. The unquiet dead accused him of not helping enough.

He didn't expect to wake up. But he did.

The first thing that penetrated the shroud of unconsciousness was sound. It wasn't a quiet sound, but it wasn't a particularly loud one either. It was a strange thrumming that sounded like machinery.

His eyes flickered open, a groan escaping from his lips. He wasn't sure about where he was. It could have been a hospital room, a Muggle one, but there was something odd about it.

A dark-haired woman moved into view, wearing what looked like a plastic uniform. "You're awake, it seems," she said, her voice holding a French accent. "Excuse me, but I need to administer some tests. The scans showed no signs of brain damage, drug intoxication or the like, but I just want to be sure of a few things. Do you remember your name?"

"Of course I do," he retorted. "I'm Harry Potter. Sorry, but…where exactly am I?"

The woman blinked. "…You're on the Citadel. I am Dr Chloe Michel, and you somehow…appeared in my clinic. The young lady over there seemed to recognise you."

Harry blinked in his turn. The Citadel? He'd heard of it, of course, but only from his imaginary friend. And how did this young lady recognise him? He turned his head to look where Dr Michel had indicated…only to stop and stare.

There, sitting on a nearby bed, watching him, was someone in a figure-hugging spacesuit. And not human, either. Three fingers, two toes, the figure was a little different…yeah, she wasn't human, even if she seemed clearly female. A veil was draped over her helmet, and the visor was mostly opaque, only the faint outline of a nose and a pair of shining silvery eyes visible from behind it.

A name came unbidden to his lips. "…Tali?" he rasped. "Tali'Zorah nar Rayya?"

"…Harry?" she asked, her voice lilting with that strange, Eastern European-like accent, a light at the bottom of her helmet pulsing in time with her words. And, to his relief, no anger, just disbelief. "Is that really you?"

He wasn't so sure himself. He had thought her nothing more than an imaginary friend. One that he had had a major argument with during their last talk, not for the first time, but one which nearly sundered their odd friendship. He had thought her a delusion, brought upon by too many half-glimpsed science fiction shows on the TV.

And yet, here she was. And this felt like no dream. He didn't want to think about the implications of what this meant, not for now. Instead, he shakily got off the bed, and went over to her. He gently touched her hand, and then her helmet, Tali repeating the actions on his own body.

"You're real," they said almost simultaneously. Then, after a moment of realisation, they said, almost simultaneously, "I'm sorry for hurting you!" Then, they broke down laughing, almost hysterically. He knew they were hoping the same thing, that this wasn't a dream. Otherwise, they didn't want to wake up…

CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:

So, once more, it's my tried-and-true trope of soulbonds across time and space. Unlike the original version of this story, neither are aware of the soulbond, yet, but it's how Harry ended up in the time of Mass Effect. That, plus a broken prototype Time Turner, like with my Fate/Grand Order crossover Primordial Song, only in the other direction.

Now, I am aware that there is a portrayal of how Tali got from her Pilgrimage to the Citadel here in the comics. I'm only using that story from the comics in broad strokes, as I haven't read it.

1. Namely, the Ansuz rune, representing gods and Odin.