Fanfic - HP/N Xover - HP and the Light at Lantern Waste -- Chapter 2
Well, everyone, here is my little parting gift to you all before my trip. I hope to be able to leave at least some short updates as to what I'm getting up to in Germany, but I can't promise anything. If you don't hear from me in two weeks though, then I died in plane crash or something. Just so that ya'll aren't wondering where I disappeared off to or anything.
Anyway, here is the newest chapter of a fic I've left waiting in the wings due to one reason or another for far too long. I hope it is at least *somewhat* worth the wait, despite its brevity.
Fandom: Harry Potter and Chronicles of Narnia
Rating: G
Spoilers: through The Mirror of Erised in Harry Potter and The Magician's Nephew and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe for Narnia
Genre: Adventure/Fantasy/Spiritual
Disclaimer: See previous chapter.
Previous chapters: Harry and the Looking Glass
Review and let me know what you think!
THE DARKENED WOODS
Harry spent the first few minutes of his time in an unknown area staring around him in wonder, trying to pin point if he was even anywhere in the United Kingdom anymore. Despite the fact that the woods around him could have been any forest in his native island, he could not help but feel that he was nowhere within his own dimension any longer. He could not explain it in words, but the very air itself felt different in the forest -- he felt lighter, more robust, and the only feeling he could equate it to was how he felt when he was flying. He suddenly felt so energetic that he could have run up every staircase at Hogwarts and still had energy left over for a Quidditch practice.
In addition to the sudden burst of energy, Harry found himself spellbound. The trees were taller even than the ones that lined the edge of the Forbidden Forest. And even though the wind was not blowing, Harry could hear a distinct sound amongst the trees, as though they were whispering to each other. This gave him a slightly mixed feeling of both intrigue and slight wariness. Harry had learnt in Herbology that plants had not only functions, but personality, and who was to say whether these trees were friendly or dangerous? Harry decided that until he could find out where he was and how he could possibly get back to Hogwarts, he had best watch what he said, even if he was only speaking to himself.
After the first few minutes of exploring what little he could see, Harry noticed three things that took up full place in his mind.
His first thought, and his most fleeting, was that he was hungry. His second, more dire thought was that he was freezing. While his Hogwarts robes and his cloak were enchanted by Madame Malkin with a basic heating spell, Harry could still feel the cold seeping into his bones. He had never felt a chill like this before -- almost supernatural in origin, and unrelenting in its grip. Harry desperately wished he had gotten Hermione to teach him the spell she found that made it so one could carry fire around in a jar -- he had no idea how long he would be in this place, where ever he was -- and he had no desire to freeze to death. Unfortunately, she had not shared that secret with him and he decided he would just have to keep moving and hope the constant motion kept him warm, or that he found a kind stranger that would help.
But his thoughts on the fire spell did bring his mind around to something that would help him in his situation -- his third thought. He suddenly remembered his wand, forgotten as it had been in his excitement of the initial exploration of his new unknown world. He reached inside his robes and pulled out the object that was quickly becoming an extension of his appendages. He quietly murmured "Lumos," and held the wand high above his head in order to see more of the world he had landed in.
There was not much for him to see. Stretching as far as he could see in all directions were tall trees -- evergreens, capped in snow inches deep. Anything that was not an evergreen had died long ago and was now made up of grey, withered branches that Harry was hesitant to step under or touch for fear that the trees would topple over. The ground was covered with snow, and the air was spotted with falling flakes. There was no obvious disturbance in the air to mark the place Harry had originally fallen through, and though Harry was disappointed by this knowledge, he was not surprised. The only noticeable landmarks were two hills in the far distance that could just barely be seen above the trees, and about 30 yards in front of Harry, just barely visible through the maze of trees, was a steel lamppost.
Harry approached it, his feet crunching loudly in the snow. The snow was deep, going well over his ankles, and it took Harry far longer than he had anticipated to reach the lamppost. He placed one trembling, slightly frozen hand against the iced over metal and leaned against it, closing his eyes. The lamppost filled Harry with a strange sort of comfort, for though it was strangely placed, it was a slice of home in a foreign world. It looked no different than the lampposts he had seen every day of his life outside of 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging. The only downside was that there was no light at the top. Not that Harry needed it; he had his wand after all, but it seemed unnatural somehow for the light in the lantern to be missing. No, not just unnatural. Wrong.
Harry stared at the lantern and felt the first tendrils of fear wrap themselves around his spine. He was alone, and he was in the dark, and the lack of light was wrong and he did not like that he seemed to understand these things without having any way of knowing it. And worst of all, he did not know the way home. Harry felt completely alone suddenly -- less like a young, exploring wizard and more like a boy in clothes too large for him, just finding his way out from the cupboard-under-the-stairs for the first time.
Harry stepped back from the lamppost and stared out into the darkness, his breathing harsh and rising up before him in a mist. He wrung his hands together, the motion causing the light at the end of his wand to make strange designs in the air and over the snow. Harry suddenly noted that his toes were numb and his fingers were turning blue. Harry wasn't sure what to do -- should he pray? Try to find that lion, maybe? After all, it was that lion's roar that had caused this whole fiasco in the first place and the lion he saw resembled the one on the looking glass frame. Was it even possible to tell one lion from another? 'You really thought this one through, didn't you, Potter?' Harry thought to himself.
Suddenly, just as Harry was about to go into a full blown panic, he heard the repetitious crunching of snow -- footsteps! Harry clung to the lamppost, trying to wait until the bearer of the footsteps came into view and hoped he would be able to tell if the stranger was friend or foe. Harry had always considered himself a good judge of character, and if the person turned out to be foe, Harry hoped that at the least he would be able to follow the stranger to some sort of civilisation.
The stranger turned out to be a faun, a fact that Harry would have been quite shocked at months before (not that he would have really known a faun had he seen one), and the faun seemed quite intent on getting somewhere. It was male with white fur, wearing a dark blue jacket over his torso, and in his arms was a large stack of books.
Harry stepped out from behind the dark lamppost and cleared his throat, hoping to catch the faun's attention without scaring it. He failed in that pursuit. Upon hearing the guttural sound, the faun jumped a good foot in the air, and the top half of the stack of books fell into the snow and a particularly large one landed on Harry's foot. It was a mark of how cold it was that Harry didn't even really feel it. In any case, he was too distracted by trying to calm down the surprised magical creature in front of him.
The faun, having recovered from the shock of such a loud sound in the normally silent forest, was staring at Harry with a somewhat clinical interest. He appeared as fascinated by Harry as Harry was by him. Harry took in the faun's face -- he had curly, dark brown hair with little horns poking out from the crest of his head. His face was slightly rounded and creased with deep laugh lines around the eyes and mouth. His eyes, which were a dark brown that matched his hair, had an intelligent gleam in them, and there was a pipe bowl just visible from the top of the breast pocket in his blue coat. All in all, the faun gave off a distinctive grandfather vibe, with professor overtones. Harry was reminded of Professor Dumbledore and something inside of him relaxed, trusting the faun almost on instinct. Harry suddenly realised he was staring and bent down to gather the fallen items.
"So sorry," Harry mumbled, his speech hindered slightly by chattering teeth. "I didn't mean to frighten you, but I'm a bit lost and I could really use the help. If you could just point me in the right direction." Harry was stacking up the books back in the faun's arms, the faun merely blinking at him and listening to Harry's ramble with a more-than-slightly flabbergasted expression. The faun shook his head slightly, as though drawing himself out of a trance.
"Are you--" the faun started hesitantly, his voice deep and nowhere near as old and raspy as Harry had expected it to be, "Pardon me, but are you a human?"
Harry suddenly realised that maybe the reason the faun had been staring so intently at him was that Harry was probably as mythical a creature to the faun as a faun was to most muggle-borns. "Why yes," Harry answered, flexing his toes and his thighs on the off chance that he may need to break into a run. "Is that...bad?"
The faun suddenly smiled. "Oh no! Why, that is very good! I never thought I'd be lucky enough to meet a human!" The faun dropped the books (one of which landed on Harry's foot once again) and grabbed Harry's hand, vigorously shaking it. "My name is Tumnus -- Reginald Tumnus! Oh, it's so nice to meet you! We haven't had any humans here since --" The faun's voice suddenly died out and he stepped close to Harry, his eyes widening as he gripped Harry's shoulders in a suddenly urgent grip. "You haven't spoken to anyone else since you arrived here, have you? None of the birds or the squirrels or the badgers?"
At any other time, Harry would have found such a question to be ridiculous. But Mr Tumnus looked so worried and afraid, that even though Harry was confused and slightly out of phase with his current situation, he answered truthfully. "No, I haven't even seen anyone until you showed up."
Reginald Tumnus's shoulders sagged in visible relief, and he bent down and started recollecting the now twice-fallen books. Harry bent down to assist, his frozen hands briefly brushing Tumnus's as he placed a couple of rather large tomes on top. Tumnus stared at Harry for a few seconds, and nodded to himself, apparently coming to some sort of decision.
"Why, you're freezing out here, young boy! And right you should be, as little as you're wearing! Thin robes and cloaks are no match for enchanted winter, my boy! I insist you come with me and warm yourself by my fire. My wife makes a marvelous tea, and you look to be skin and bones. You can explain to me how you came to be lost, and I'll see what I can do about finding you the way home, yes?" Tumnus's eyes pierced through the darkness at Harry's, his eyes gesturing slightly towards the side at the trees. Harry suddenly understood him. Mr Tumnus wanted to ask some questions (and explain his earlier statement about the lack of humans, Harry hoped), and Tumnus didn't trust that they were truly alone.
Harry briefly considered the offer. He did not know Mr Tumnus at all, and he knew if Hermione was there that she would be telling him that it was reckless to run off with a stranger. But Harry was freezing -- his fingers and toes moving past numbness and into pain -- and he was hungry, and there was something about Tumnus that told Harry to trust him. Harry decided he would just have to be selective about what he told Tumnus until he was more sure of him, but he really had no time to sit about debating the situation with himself.
"Thank you," Harry said, nodding his head, his teeth chattering. Mr Tumnus beamed at him.
"Wow! Tea with a human. Won't that be quite the story to tell my kid when it's born!"
Harry quietly murmured "Nox," turning off the light at the end of his wand and slipped his wand deftly back into the pocket of his robes. Mr Tumnus was so busy trying to re-arrange his books that he didn't notice. Harry then grabbed a few of the larger tomes off the top, freeing up Mr Tumnus's line of vision. With a small smile of thanks, Tumnus led the way into the dark forest, and Harry followed behind, slightly apprehensive, but hopeful that he could soon have the answers he was searching for about this enchanted winter wonderland.
In addition, have two more wonderful fandom things I've discovered that are worth enjoying. First up is a Harry/Hermione fanvid that explains all the reasons I loved them, set to Sink or Swim by Tyrone Wells and expertly put together by a vidder named aandrandom: Watch it here.
And second, here is a one shot fanfic about Susan after The Last Battle, and it has consistently caused me to shed a few tears every time I've read it. It's just...gorgeous. Grief, Observed by Lost Spook
I hope to write to you soon, my lovelies!
Anyway, here is the newest chapter of a fic I've left waiting in the wings due to one reason or another for far too long. I hope it is at least *somewhat* worth the wait, despite its brevity.
Fandom: Harry Potter and Chronicles of Narnia
Rating: G
Spoilers: through The Mirror of Erised in Harry Potter and The Magician's Nephew and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe for Narnia
Genre: Adventure/Fantasy/Spiritual
Disclaimer: See previous chapter.
Previous chapters: Harry and the Looking Glass
Review and let me know what you think!
THE DARKENED WOODS
Harry spent the first few minutes of his time in an unknown area staring around him in wonder, trying to pin point if he was even anywhere in the United Kingdom anymore. Despite the fact that the woods around him could have been any forest in his native island, he could not help but feel that he was nowhere within his own dimension any longer. He could not explain it in words, but the very air itself felt different in the forest -- he felt lighter, more robust, and the only feeling he could equate it to was how he felt when he was flying. He suddenly felt so energetic that he could have run up every staircase at Hogwarts and still had energy left over for a Quidditch practice.
In addition to the sudden burst of energy, Harry found himself spellbound. The trees were taller even than the ones that lined the edge of the Forbidden Forest. And even though the wind was not blowing, Harry could hear a distinct sound amongst the trees, as though they were whispering to each other. This gave him a slightly mixed feeling of both intrigue and slight wariness. Harry had learnt in Herbology that plants had not only functions, but personality, and who was to say whether these trees were friendly or dangerous? Harry decided that until he could find out where he was and how he could possibly get back to Hogwarts, he had best watch what he said, even if he was only speaking to himself.
After the first few minutes of exploring what little he could see, Harry noticed three things that took up full place in his mind.
His first thought, and his most fleeting, was that he was hungry. His second, more dire thought was that he was freezing. While his Hogwarts robes and his cloak were enchanted by Madame Malkin with a basic heating spell, Harry could still feel the cold seeping into his bones. He had never felt a chill like this before -- almost supernatural in origin, and unrelenting in its grip. Harry desperately wished he had gotten Hermione to teach him the spell she found that made it so one could carry fire around in a jar -- he had no idea how long he would be in this place, where ever he was -- and he had no desire to freeze to death. Unfortunately, she had not shared that secret with him and he decided he would just have to keep moving and hope the constant motion kept him warm, or that he found a kind stranger that would help.
But his thoughts on the fire spell did bring his mind around to something that would help him in his situation -- his third thought. He suddenly remembered his wand, forgotten as it had been in his excitement of the initial exploration of his new unknown world. He reached inside his robes and pulled out the object that was quickly becoming an extension of his appendages. He quietly murmured "Lumos," and held the wand high above his head in order to see more of the world he had landed in.
There was not much for him to see. Stretching as far as he could see in all directions were tall trees -- evergreens, capped in snow inches deep. Anything that was not an evergreen had died long ago and was now made up of grey, withered branches that Harry was hesitant to step under or touch for fear that the trees would topple over. The ground was covered with snow, and the air was spotted with falling flakes. There was no obvious disturbance in the air to mark the place Harry had originally fallen through, and though Harry was disappointed by this knowledge, he was not surprised. The only noticeable landmarks were two hills in the far distance that could just barely be seen above the trees, and about 30 yards in front of Harry, just barely visible through the maze of trees, was a steel lamppost.
Harry approached it, his feet crunching loudly in the snow. The snow was deep, going well over his ankles, and it took Harry far longer than he had anticipated to reach the lamppost. He placed one trembling, slightly frozen hand against the iced over metal and leaned against it, closing his eyes. The lamppost filled Harry with a strange sort of comfort, for though it was strangely placed, it was a slice of home in a foreign world. It looked no different than the lampposts he had seen every day of his life outside of 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging. The only downside was that there was no light at the top. Not that Harry needed it; he had his wand after all, but it seemed unnatural somehow for the light in the lantern to be missing. No, not just unnatural. Wrong.
Harry stared at the lantern and felt the first tendrils of fear wrap themselves around his spine. He was alone, and he was in the dark, and the lack of light was wrong and he did not like that he seemed to understand these things without having any way of knowing it. And worst of all, he did not know the way home. Harry felt completely alone suddenly -- less like a young, exploring wizard and more like a boy in clothes too large for him, just finding his way out from the cupboard-under-the-stairs for the first time.
Harry stepped back from the lamppost and stared out into the darkness, his breathing harsh and rising up before him in a mist. He wrung his hands together, the motion causing the light at the end of his wand to make strange designs in the air and over the snow. Harry suddenly noted that his toes were numb and his fingers were turning blue. Harry wasn't sure what to do -- should he pray? Try to find that lion, maybe? After all, it was that lion's roar that had caused this whole fiasco in the first place and the lion he saw resembled the one on the looking glass frame. Was it even possible to tell one lion from another? 'You really thought this one through, didn't you, Potter?' Harry thought to himself.
Suddenly, just as Harry was about to go into a full blown panic, he heard the repetitious crunching of snow -- footsteps! Harry clung to the lamppost, trying to wait until the bearer of the footsteps came into view and hoped he would be able to tell if the stranger was friend or foe. Harry had always considered himself a good judge of character, and if the person turned out to be foe, Harry hoped that at the least he would be able to follow the stranger to some sort of civilisation.
The stranger turned out to be a faun, a fact that Harry would have been quite shocked at months before (not that he would have really known a faun had he seen one), and the faun seemed quite intent on getting somewhere. It was male with white fur, wearing a dark blue jacket over his torso, and in his arms was a large stack of books.
Harry stepped out from behind the dark lamppost and cleared his throat, hoping to catch the faun's attention without scaring it. He failed in that pursuit. Upon hearing the guttural sound, the faun jumped a good foot in the air, and the top half of the stack of books fell into the snow and a particularly large one landed on Harry's foot. It was a mark of how cold it was that Harry didn't even really feel it. In any case, he was too distracted by trying to calm down the surprised magical creature in front of him.
The faun, having recovered from the shock of such a loud sound in the normally silent forest, was staring at Harry with a somewhat clinical interest. He appeared as fascinated by Harry as Harry was by him. Harry took in the faun's face -- he had curly, dark brown hair with little horns poking out from the crest of his head. His face was slightly rounded and creased with deep laugh lines around the eyes and mouth. His eyes, which were a dark brown that matched his hair, had an intelligent gleam in them, and there was a pipe bowl just visible from the top of the breast pocket in his blue coat. All in all, the faun gave off a distinctive grandfather vibe, with professor overtones. Harry was reminded of Professor Dumbledore and something inside of him relaxed, trusting the faun almost on instinct. Harry suddenly realised he was staring and bent down to gather the fallen items.
"So sorry," Harry mumbled, his speech hindered slightly by chattering teeth. "I didn't mean to frighten you, but I'm a bit lost and I could really use the help. If you could just point me in the right direction." Harry was stacking up the books back in the faun's arms, the faun merely blinking at him and listening to Harry's ramble with a more-than-slightly flabbergasted expression. The faun shook his head slightly, as though drawing himself out of a trance.
"Are you--" the faun started hesitantly, his voice deep and nowhere near as old and raspy as Harry had expected it to be, "Pardon me, but are you a human?"
Harry suddenly realised that maybe the reason the faun had been staring so intently at him was that Harry was probably as mythical a creature to the faun as a faun was to most muggle-borns. "Why yes," Harry answered, flexing his toes and his thighs on the off chance that he may need to break into a run. "Is that...bad?"
The faun suddenly smiled. "Oh no! Why, that is very good! I never thought I'd be lucky enough to meet a human!" The faun dropped the books (one of which landed on Harry's foot once again) and grabbed Harry's hand, vigorously shaking it. "My name is Tumnus -- Reginald Tumnus! Oh, it's so nice to meet you! We haven't had any humans here since --" The faun's voice suddenly died out and he stepped close to Harry, his eyes widening as he gripped Harry's shoulders in a suddenly urgent grip. "You haven't spoken to anyone else since you arrived here, have you? None of the birds or the squirrels or the badgers?"
At any other time, Harry would have found such a question to be ridiculous. But Mr Tumnus looked so worried and afraid, that even though Harry was confused and slightly out of phase with his current situation, he answered truthfully. "No, I haven't even seen anyone until you showed up."
Reginald Tumnus's shoulders sagged in visible relief, and he bent down and started recollecting the now twice-fallen books. Harry bent down to assist, his frozen hands briefly brushing Tumnus's as he placed a couple of rather large tomes on top. Tumnus stared at Harry for a few seconds, and nodded to himself, apparently coming to some sort of decision.
"Why, you're freezing out here, young boy! And right you should be, as little as you're wearing! Thin robes and cloaks are no match for enchanted winter, my boy! I insist you come with me and warm yourself by my fire. My wife makes a marvelous tea, and you look to be skin and bones. You can explain to me how you came to be lost, and I'll see what I can do about finding you the way home, yes?" Tumnus's eyes pierced through the darkness at Harry's, his eyes gesturing slightly towards the side at the trees. Harry suddenly understood him. Mr Tumnus wanted to ask some questions (and explain his earlier statement about the lack of humans, Harry hoped), and Tumnus didn't trust that they were truly alone.
Harry briefly considered the offer. He did not know Mr Tumnus at all, and he knew if Hermione was there that she would be telling him that it was reckless to run off with a stranger. But Harry was freezing -- his fingers and toes moving past numbness and into pain -- and he was hungry, and there was something about Tumnus that told Harry to trust him. Harry decided he would just have to be selective about what he told Tumnus until he was more sure of him, but he really had no time to sit about debating the situation with himself.
"Thank you," Harry said, nodding his head, his teeth chattering. Mr Tumnus beamed at him.
"Wow! Tea with a human. Won't that be quite the story to tell my kid when it's born!"
Harry quietly murmured "Nox," turning off the light at the end of his wand and slipped his wand deftly back into the pocket of his robes. Mr Tumnus was so busy trying to re-arrange his books that he didn't notice. Harry then grabbed a few of the larger tomes off the top, freeing up Mr Tumnus's line of vision. With a small smile of thanks, Tumnus led the way into the dark forest, and Harry followed behind, slightly apprehensive, but hopeful that he could soon have the answers he was searching for about this enchanted winter wonderland.
In addition, have two more wonderful fandom things I've discovered that are worth enjoying. First up is a Harry/Hermione fanvid that explains all the reasons I loved them, set to Sink or Swim by Tyrone Wells and expertly put together by a vidder named aandrandom: Watch it here.
And second, here is a one shot fanfic about Susan after The Last Battle, and it has consistently caused me to shed a few tears every time I've read it. It's just...gorgeous. Grief, Observed by Lost Spook
I hope to write to you soon, my lovelies!