Hello everyone! This fiction piece has been in my pocket for a long time.
I know, what a strange crossover. But I wanted to take a crack at it.
Everyone knows the Harry Potter universe (assuming), but The Witcher universe is vast and expansive. I will make one thing clear right off the bat. The characters written in this piece of work are based on the BOOKS and GAMES. The Netflix series holds no barring.
The Witcher universe is expansive in its lore, and it can be a bit daunting to those just coming into it. So, I simplified some things in this story to make it easier for those new to the series. So, for those who might complain that things aren't exactly right, please forgive me.
Fair warning: the first chapter of two might seem to be an exposition dump; for that, I apologize once more. I tried to make it flow easily, but I couldn't get it any smoother. Forgive me, writing gods!
I hope you all enjoy
The wind was whipping rain at the stone walls with a vengeance. Puddles had formed as the harsh Scottish weather made itself known. Hogwarts was illuminated as lightning cracked across the sky, thunder following closely behind with a roar that shook the ground.
The castle was almost empty, with only a few Professors remaining over the summer. Inside, all were safe from the weather and dangers lurking in the shadows outside. However, not everyone was asleep.
"I do not think this is wise, Albus," Minerva said with a frown, her brow knit in concern. "We do not know if this will work, let alone get a response."
Severus Snape stepped up beside the Transfiguration Professor, his hands together. "I have to agree, Headmaster," he said quietly. "The book from which you got this idea is ancient. The following notes are even more cryptic. I do not believe this is wise."
Yet the two Professor's words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Dumbledore was too focused on his runic equation, the tip of his wand glowing faintly as he carved some edges onto a stone. Only when he placed the finished product down did he grace the other two present with his thoughts, "What would you both have me do? Suggestions, anything?" His tone was lacking its usual warmth. In its place was the voice of the leader of the light.
Neither Professor had an answer or a solution for the Headmaster. Dumbledore stood in the corner of the room. Fawkes watched the trio silently, his eyes strikingly calm. Maybe the magical bird knew something.
"What do you hope to achieve, Albus?" Severus asked once the silence had stretched far enough. "You surely do not assume Black's escape is enough to warrant such drastic actions?"
Dumbledore slowly waved his wand around the rock-like crystals he was carving. His eyes were sharp, like a blade. "Lord Voldemort will return," he didn't notice the flinch come from the other two, "that is a fact. If we are prepared, it is something I would rather not leave up to chance."
"And this," McGonagall struggled to find the words as she gestured to Dumbledore's work, "unknown magic is what you believe will help us?"
"If this works," Dumbledore whispered as he held his wand out and lifted the stone he was carving runes into, with a second rising beside the first, "We will not be as alone as we think. We only need hope that we get a response."
With a rolled-up parchment letter in his hand, Dumbledore cast a wave of energy at the stones. The room shook with the Headmaster's power, and his nicknacks fell from his desk. A dull blue began to shimmer around the rocks, growing brighter and brighter until they seemed to explode into a flash of light, followed by a blue ripple of energy between the two stones. Dumbledore quickly threw the letter into the energy ripple, and once it was consumed, he cancelled his spell.
The two stones fell to the ground as if nothing had happened.
»»—- The Continent —-««
In a faraway land, beyond Wizarding Britain, a Witcher named Geralt of Rivia was taking a relaxing hot bath. His body was covered in scars, and he had a full mane of white hair. Though lean and tall, his body was toned from years of work and training. As the warm water worked at the knots in his muscles, Geralt moaned in delight. He was used to riding in a saddle for an extended period. Still, the ride from Corvo Bianco to Kaer Morhen had taken a toll on his bones.
Geralt remembered how Lambert had smirked smugly when he declared it was his turn to rest at the Vineyard. Yennefer of Vengerberg and Geralt had to leave for the summer. It had been agreed upon that Geralt would reside at the Vineyard during the winter and then return to Kaer Morhen in the summer, with either Lambert or Eskel taking the reins of Corvo Bianco.
Geralt was more upset that he had barely gotten out of bed before Lambert burst through the door with Keira Metz in tow.
Geralt had barely put a foot in the stirrups of his saddle before he could hear Lambert and Keira having sex somewhere within the main house. Yennefer must have heard them, too, for she spurred her mare into a trot with a scowl. She hadn't even had the time to put her face on that morning.
At some point during Geralt's contemplation, he drifted off as the warmth of the bath enveloped him. That was when Yennefer found him. His head was half-submerged as he dozed. She rolled her eyes, walked over, and flicked his forehead. The Witcher opened one eye and scowled as he lifted his head.
"That hurt."
Yennefer smiled with amusement in her violet eyes, "Forgive me. I didn't realize my own strength. I'm sorry, great Witcher," she mocked, bowing.
Geralt laughed as he stood up from the bath. Yennefer had become softer during their time away from the world. The absence of running, fighting, worrying, and trying to survive was doing wonders for her sense of humour.
"You joke now," Geralt began as he wrapped himself in a towel to dry off, "but we both know I'm not so forgiving." Yennefer raised an eyebrow, and Geralt dropped the towel, stepped closer to her, and continued, "I might need compensation for such a deadly strike against my person."
Yennefer reached out and caressed his abs as she leaned into him, "Is there nothing I can do to make it up to you, oh mighty Witcher?" she asked, with what was once amusement now turned into lust. Geralt grabbed Yennefer by the hips, pulled her close, and kissed her passionately. Their lips were in a battle for dominance.
Before things could get too heated, a loud hiss followed by the shaking of the walls caught their attention. Geralt quickly grabbed his blade before running from the bedroom, with Yennefer following closely behind. He ran down the staircase without a second thought. Sliding into the main hall, he came to a stop.
"Geralt, what's happening?" Yennefer asked as she caught up to him. Standing beside him, they watched an unstable portal open in the middle of the hall. The room shook violently as the portal tried to materialize itself. A flash of blue and a scroll flew out from the mass of magical energy before it swiftly collapsed in on itself, leaving the room in disarray and the occupants bewildered.
With slow, cautious steps forward, Geralt knelt to inspect the scroll that was left behind. He didn't dare touch it, but he studied it. Yennefer slowly came beside him and crouched down curiously. "Yen," he asked as he curiously wanted to nudge it, "do you think it's cursed?"
The sorceress gently waved a hand over the parchment, and her brow furrowed, "I don't feel anything nefarious, but it is radiating magic. At an almost unbelievable rate." She lowered her hand and shrugged, "It seems safe, but that doesn't answer our questions."
With a snort, Geralt leaned forward and flicked the scroll, making it roll away. Both Witcher and Sorceress waited with bated breath. When nothing happened, Geralt shrugged and stood, "Seems it's safe." He could hear Yennefer muttering about crude and unsafe testing methods as he retrieved the piece of parchment.
Unrolling it, Geralt read the letter slowly. He absently scratched his chin as he read. Then, with a sudden determination, he began to march to the library. Yen, ill-prepared for such an action, followed closely. She asked what was wrong, but he didn't answer. He just kept reading and walking. Pushing the door open and tossing the letter onto a dusty table, Geralt quickly moved to the older section of the numerous bookshelves. Yen frowned as she picked up the discarded letter to see what caused the commotion.
Pulling a ladder with him, Geralt ascended the shelves and began to push books around and aside in a frantic search. Blowing some dust bunnies from an old crate, Geralt hummed as he hefted it up under his arm. Returning to where Yen was finishing her third reread of the letter, Geralt discarded the crate onto the table. "That symbol, I knew I had seen it before."
"You have?" Yennefer questioned with a look of disbelief, "This makes no sense, Geralt! I have never even heard of this school."
"I would be surprised if you had," Geralt smirked as he pulled a book made of twine from within. It had no covers, merely pages with twine holding them together. Geralt flipped it open, flipping through pages rapidly. "Ha, I knew it," he exclaimed as he slapped his hand down on the page and held the booklet to the sorceress.
Yen gingerly took the booklet, careful of the binding that looked to be coming loose, and held it up. Reading carefully, Geralt watched as Yennefer's brows furrowed and her teeth caught her lip. She held the letter up to the booklet, and she frowned. Putting everything down, Yen let out a deep sigh and leaned on the table.
"A magical school from another world wants your assistance dealing with monsters they themselves can't be bothered to deal with without the promise of a handsome reward at that. The only proof you have of this being real is some ancient, probably false rambling from the journal of a Witcher almost a century ago. Geralt, you can't seriously believe this to be genuine."
Looking away from the pleading eyes of his beloved, Geralt shrugged, "I wouldn't, but that crest is the same as the one written down in the journal."
"So? Someone is an excellent forger," Yen reasoned with a scoff.
"I have never seen that crest before anywhere else, Yen."
"Because it is not real, Geralt."
Slowly rubbing his chin, Geralt hummed in thought. Purposely not looking at Yennefer for fear of catching her glare, he thought of a plan. "I will write to Lambert and Eskel, as well as Ciri. Ask their opinions and whether they had ever seen or heard of this crest."
Yen glared for a moment longer before sighing, "Fine. Write your letters, and I'll send them. But I will be looking the responses over with you," the sorceress muttered to herself as she left the library, taking only a moment to shout back, "Put some pants on!"
Yennefer sent Geralt's letters with her magic, so the responses came quickly. Lambert thought it was a terrible plan and an even worse idea. Eskel had seen the journal before and doubted its authenticity, but he expressed that he could be wrong. Ciri had a different answer entirely.
Teleporting to Kaer Morhen from wherever she had been, Ciri requested to see the letter and the journal. Geralt and Yen watched in fascination as Ciri read the letter and journal carefully. "I have heard of this place."
"You have?" Yennefer questioned with a stern huff, "When?" Geralt himself was interested in the answer as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.
Cirilla nonchalantly shrugged and carefully placed the letter and journal down on the worn wooden table. "When I was fleeing from the relentless pursuit of the Wild Hunt, I found myself inadvertently traversing realms until I stumbled upon a world called Earth. It was there that I delved into a world of technological marvels and discovered the wonders of elctricity, electrcity? Electricity! The clothing was especially delightful—far more comfortable than anything I've ever worn here."
Interrupting her, Geralt flashed a knowing smirk at Yennefer, who was attempting to conceal a grin. "Ciri, let's stay on track, please."
Cirilla, slightly flustered, turned away to hide the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "Apologies," she muttered, clearing her throat before turning back to face them. "Regarding that school, Hogwarts was it? It is reputedly one of the foremost magical institutions in that world. I didn't have the opportunity to witness it firsthand, as the magical community there is strictly segregated from non-magical individuals. From what I gleaned, the mages in that world were regarded with considerable trepidation."
Geralt acknowledged the sentiment. In their realm, mages were at times met with disdain, fear, and even hatred. While witchcraft was generally accepted, especially when it aided the common folk, this was not universally true. Mages could not expect the same level of acceptance in every world as they did in theirs.
In the ensuing week, Ciri and Geralt meticulously pored over the journal, seeking every iota of information it might hold. Meanwhile, Yennefer meticulously examined the letter requesting aid, meticulously dissecting the magic it exuded, discerning its source, and diligently scavenging for any additional clues. Although progress was slow and seemingly fruitless, Yennefer persisted, driven by her aversion to the entire predicament.
Getting Geralt to change his mind was one thing, but to convince Ciri as well. Yennefer knew her chances were slim to none.
»»—- Hogwarts —-««
Albus Dumbledore had a migraine that seemed to be ever-lasting. Cornelius Fudge insisted on dementors being placed around the school. Sirius Black was still on the loose. Severus was furious he had sought out and hired Remus Lupin to teach defence against the dark arts. Harry Potter went and got his aunt blown up, so he had to deal with the fallout from that.
All in all, he was tired, and the school year hadn't even started yet. However, it made Dumbledore wonder what caused young Harry's magic to act out in such a way. 'Perhaps a check-up on Petunia is in order,' Albus thought with a frown.
Needing a distraction from his thoughts, his eyes gleamed as he reached across his desk. Pulling his tin of lemon drops to his lap, Albus joyfully grabbed a couple and put them in his mouth. 'If only life were as simple as a lemon candy,' he thought with a twinkle in his eye.
Before he could divulge himself with some more of the lemon candies, the wards around Hogwarts began to shift. Albus could feel the magic around the castle tighten around itself. A sizzling hiss from the corner where his pensieve sat drew his attention. Standing slowly, he pulled his wand and stepped forward. Fawkes flapped over and sat upon his shoulder.
The hissing sound faded, and in its place, a flash of gold emerged. A burst of warm magic flew past him, and Albus openly gaped as before his eyes, a portal much like the one he made just weeks ago stood before him. The magic coming off of it was warm, like a sunny day. Far from the wild, chaotic storm the one he made caused.
Before Albus could do anything, a small letter came falling out from the centre of the golden portal. Blinking curiously, Albus bent to retrieve it. Unfolding the letter, Albus's eyes twinkled like the brightest stars. A response!
With great haste, Albus summoned a piece of parchment and quill; scribbling down a response, he tossed the letter back into the centre of the gold void.
"It seems my gamble has paid off, old friend," Dumbledore whispered to his familiar. Fawkes trilled and flapped his wings.
What felt like hours flew by, but it was only mere minutes. Dumbledore waited with bated breath. It wasn't much longer before his patience paid off.
From within the gold portal stepped a man unlike any Albus had ever seen before. Standing a little over six feet tall, with broad shoulders but an athletic slim build, the man was a sight to behold. His face was a little horrifying if Albus was honest. His hair is the colour of milk, and his eyes are like those of a cat. Glowing in the dim light of the room. With what appeared to be two swords strapped to his back, the man seemed to be a force to be reckoned with.
To his left stood a short, pale woman clad in black. Her curly hair, black like the night, went down to her shoulders. She had an interesting sort of beauty to her, imperfect in a way, Albus thought. Her piercing violet eyes made it known to him she was a calculating, intelligent individual.
On the man's left stood a young woman, younger looking than Albus had thought appropriate to be wielding the sword strapped to her back. However, judging by the scar near her left eye, the sword may have been necessary. Her hair was such a light blonde. Albus couldn't even begin to describe the colour. Her eyes, though, were what caught Albus' attention. Bright green and full of life, but hard like many who survived hardship.
The portal behind them closed, and the warmth of the magic fled with it, leaving Albus and the three strangers standing in his office.
Fawkes tilted his head curiously and sang a welcoming song. Albus took a moment to steady himself before taking a single step, "Welcome, welcome. You are the recipient of my letters, I presume?" The man blinked and nodded ever so softly.
"I am."
"Ah, where are my manners. Please, please, come sit," Albus gestured to his desk behind him before waving his wand, and two more chairs appeared beside the one he had for guests. Albus didn't notice the look the three shared at the use of his magic. The man took the seat in the middle, with the lady in black taking the one to his right and the young woman the one on his left. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"Geralt of Rivia," the man replied with a polite nod, "And my companions are Yennefer of Vengerberg," the girl to his right smiled and gave a courteous greeting, "And my ward, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon." The young woman scowled and elbowed the man, Geralt, in the side.
"It is just Ciri," she explained with a smile. Dumbledore chuckled and nodded in understanding.
"I quite understand, for my full name is quite the mouthful at times, too." He explained, his eyes twinkling. Geralt's yellow eyes held something in them as he glanced at the girl with almost white hair. Fondness, respect, maybe even love? Dumbledore would have to ponder it later. "Shall we get to the matter at hand?"
Geralt's eyes returned to the Headmaster, and their cat-like appearance narrowed on him. Reaching into a bag he kept at his side, he pulled out the first letter Albus sent. "I have some questions. Your letter isn't exactly forthtelling."
"Please, ask away," Dumbledore intoned as he leaned back in his seat.
"What exactly is the situation you need to handle? You referenced monsters but not anything else."
"Aye, that is true," Dumbledore began slowly, "the situation is more delicate than I feel comfortable putting in a letter."
Geralt hummed and crossed his arms, "I'm all ears."
Dumbledore sat straight in his throne-like chair and sighed, "I shall have to take you back to Halloween night of 1981."
...
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