Harry Potter Dragon Age Crossover

Chapter 2

Warning: Moderate Description of Violence

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World unknown. Date unknown. Hadrian's pov:

A gasp of breath. Fingers twitch. Muscles tense and shoulders move. Head rolls back. Lips part, bloodless and pale. While a voiceless sound escapes. Hands curl. Arms contract. Legs move and body rolls.

Green eyes flicker beneath heavy eyelids.

A cough echoes, hands fisted in fabric. Body curls, legs to chin. Lips pull back, forehead furrows.

Coughs again, spittle flies. Gasps for breath, eyelids flicker.

Voices sound, pounding feet. Hands grasp clothing and shouts in an ear. Body flinches, curling more. Hurting inwardly, yelling in fear. Fists shake body, yelling even louder. Hands tighten, fabric creasing. Lifts up high, arms flailing.

Legs jerk outwards, arms falling limp. Head turned side wards, cheek turning pink. A voice growls, firmly and nastily. But nothing comes, speech is gone.

Shaken again, voice getting louder. Feet then heard getting closer. A young voice yells, a spark unveils, tearing a yell from their chest.

Fingers let go, dropping them to the ground. A scream echoes, bouncing round and round. Fingers grip hair. Eyes clenched in pain.

Agony abound, shuddering through broken bones as blood boils, slowly cooking within. Then a flash of light, through tightly closed eyelids and darkness comes, sucking consciousness away. Thus silence falls, body still once more.

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World Earth. Date unknown. General pov:

"That was close…" Sighs the woman in a white gown. Fingers rub her brow as she looks over the young man on the floor of the office.

"Seems a slight miscalculation had affected the transportation of the child." Blue eyes gazed down at the boy lying curled upon the ground. Fingers were pressed together, elbows resting on the top of the desk as the elder gazed over his half moon spectacles at the matron and her charge.

"Miscalculation?" A grimace appeared for a second or two, before falling into the usual dark scowl that caused students to flee in terror. "Seems you near killed the creature instead." His dark eyes narrowed. Sharp and calculating eyes flicked over the wounded and pained body of the young man on the ground.

"Creature?" The elder glanced towards the younger man, before his lips curled into a smile and he stood up from his desk, moving round to cross over to where the other had landed upon the floor. "No Severus, this is no creature. If you looked more closely, you would see very well who this is."

Long fingers reached forward and brushed long dark strands back from a bowed forehead, revealing a lightning bolt scar to the room. The young man, Severus, stiffened a dark frown as his eye flickered back and forth over the still body of the boy.

The Matron on the other hand didn't react at all except to tut at the elder and brush his hand away. Her other hand was in motion, wand in hand, carefully moving over the boys body as parchment collected in a neat pile by her leg to read after she was done. Then the boy groaned, tilting his head, fingers twitching as though to awake. With a furrow of her brow, the matron muttered under her breath and set a sleeping spell over him to make him fall into a more natural slumber.

"Oh my word." She just stared.

"Poppy? What is wrong?" Asked the elder concerned. Blue eyes looked into Severus's dark-brown eyes in question, but the younger just shook his head with a frown.

"I.. Just look." She moved back, and gestured towards his head. The two men looked over the boys form to see if they could see what was wrong and then finally saw it, if by the sudden intakes of breath were any indication. "I didn't think they still existed."

His ears were pointed. Delicately. Nothing like a house elf's, or any other magical creature they knew of. The only creature that it could be, were the one beings that didn't exist. They had been destroyed a long, long time ago, hunted down for their beauty and immortality until none were left.

She looked up at them both with fire in her eyes. "Just where did he come from Albus? This is too dangerous a world for a being like him, no matter who he used to be."

Near black eyes narrowed in thought, before the younger of the two men stepped forward and kneeled down beside the sleeping being on the ground. "Poppy, perhaps the boy should be placed elsewhere for his safety for the moment." Severus glanced up at the focused mediwitch. "Perhaps the secure wing of the hospital wing?"

"Excellent idea Severus. Would you mind giving me a hand? I have to keep an eye on his vitals and can't transport the child at the same time." Spoke the matron with a concentrated look upon her face. Her wand was focused upon the boy's midsection, glowing a dark green in colour while flickering in a regular beat.

"Very well Poppy. Just tell me when you are ready to transport the boy to the Hospital Wing."

She just nodded distractedly in return.

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Tiny dream. Earth home. Harry pov:

They were tiny hands, such small hands that pressed almost desperately against the door, searching for a way out. A hot forehead rested above them, feverish and cold at the same time as panted breaths escaped into the air.

He was sick. He was so very sick. Coughs erupted into the air, as little lungs tried desperately to shift sticky mucus, but his body was too weak.

Clouded green eyes, shiny with tears that did not fall, closed with resignation that such a young child should not feel. Letting his body slip down to the ground in defeat as a fist beat almost silently against the door once again that night.

Help me...

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World Earth. Hadrian's pov:

Green eyes fluttered open, before shutting again from the bright light. A groan escaped as a hand came up to cradle his throbbing head. Deep breaths were being taken in, trying to stay calm and assess the situation as panic started to build. The usually familiar smell of dirt, a tinge of iron, the heady fragrance of copper, unwashed leather and linens was missing.

Fingers of his left hand shifted slightly and curled around the hilt of a dagger. Thank goodness for the assassin and his paranoid nagging about always wearing the enchanted weapons. They couldn't be removed from his person when wearing them thanks to the glyphs inscribed on them.

Whispered voices echoed around him, coming from a far enough distance the male felt safe enough to crack open his eyes enough to survey the surroundings. White light blinded watery green eyes as they blinked furiously before shutting once more, face pressing back into the space between his shoulder and the strange feeling linens.

Finally eyes began to adjust and the elf could survey his surroundings. White was the impression, sterile white. White curtains, yellowish-white sheets, white curiously soft pillows, walls greyish white and floors were made up of lots of white squares. Huffing out a breath, pulled the soft-thick-sheet-that-was-not-a-sheet off of him and swung leather clad legs down off the bed.

Breathing, Hadrian pushed up and stood all for a second or two before collapsing. Left hand clamped down upon his thigh which had split open and was quickly soaking the bindings with blood. The Right had managed to direct his falling movement to land upon the bed once more, with his legs being the only things still hanging off while the rest of the elf's body lay flat as he panted from the sharp throbbing pain.

'By the Dreadwolf, fool I am.' Twisting to lie upon his back, Hadrian stared up at the blindingly white ceiling and strange but interesting architecture as he gathered the courage to move again. 'Throw the elks to the pit, I must be seeking punishment if I must be trying to get up again.'

Then a strange sound of flapping came to pointed ears and the elven Warden pushed himself up onto his elbows as curiosity reared its head once again, his natural suspicion and need to escape the white room had temperately been replaced as his true naivety when his curiosity struck and the elf had to follow the compulsion. For the Warden had a tendency to let his curiosity dictate his behaviour too many times and the trouble the party had gotten into had become legends on Thedas.

Green eyes raised up and stared, there flying towards him was a fire bird. They were supposed to be extinct, hunted down like most creatures were being. Dragon's being the top prize for any seasoned killer. It made the forest dwelling creature inside of him bristle with anger.

It was funny, he was originally an Elven child from the city. A flat-ear, one with no pride or connection to the ancestors and yet Hadrian took pride in being a city elf, his heritage from his father. Yet he was also a Dalish-elf through his mother. Taken on journeys, and was accepted into the clan as a Dal'en and taught the ways of his people. Including the daggers and bow, the dark haired man took to them with satisfaction and pride.

That day, on the day of his marriage, the Warden had been there to visit his father. As well as keep the promise that had been made many a year ago. Binding to the young female elf was no trouble, even if it was a temporary bond to help her escape the Alienage to the clan with him.

Instead, bloodshed.

So many dead.

It was that which sparked the darker side of his curiosity then.

What would happen if I cut here, slowly sliced and separated the muscles and tendons of the flesh? Lets see what he shall do, will he scream, writhe in pain, whimper or beg after what he did to her? No man deserves to keep his dignity and pride after destroying the virtue of the one I was meant to protect.

And so Darkness grew into him. The assassin's path laid out. The Warden Duncan came, saved Hadrian's neck from the gallows and shoved him into being a Warden to fight Darkspawn.

Green eyes blinked, drawn back to the present as a weight settled on his stomach and a trill sounded out into the air by his left ear. Shifting his head back, the elf looked down and stared at the gleaming fiery-red plumage of the bird. The bird who by the way was looking back at the green eyed man with one beady black eye, head cocked to the side with intelligence shining through.

A chirrup came from the sharp curved beak of the creature, who's crest was raised. As that sharp intelligent stare switched from one eye to the other, as the fire-bird seemed to twitch it's head and turned the other way. Then with a flick of it's long tail's, turned towards Hadrian's legs with a crooning sound.

"Do not worry my friend. I shall care for the wound soon enough, if the Dreadwolf permits me." He murmurers towards the bird, unconsciously lying back, the heat from the bird causing a drowsiness to overtake his senses. Blinking, he tried to shake it away, as a hand came up to hold his head. "Wha' ya' do'in?"

Then agonising pain eclipsed his form. Hadrian could not move, vocalize or even feel. Just pain throughout his form. The blood in his very body felt like it was trying to boil it's way out of him. Breathing began to hitch, body twitching, then the spasm's began, before violently fitting. Mind was fixated on two words as darkness hit in a flash of light and concerned garbled words as he shut down once again.

What Happened?

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World Earth. Medical Wing. Hadrian's pov:

Face turned into the feather soft side of the pillow, his brow furrowed before green eyes slowly slipped open. Gently he stared into the white light that shone from the window, confused and slightly dazed, but mainly tired.

Settling back into the pillow, gazing perplexed towards the light, as fingers drifted upwards and pressed gently against his leg. Then shifting his gaze downwards, pushed upwards with his left arm mainly taking his weight. Staring down at the bandages around the thigh, the fingers of Hadrian's right hand flexed, fingertips brushing against the rough material.

"Uoyerew ifi tahtod tndluowi." In reflex the elf suppressed a flinch, as pain radiated out from the exact point the his fingers had brushed against. Head turned, eyes fixating on a darker pair which had apparently been watching him wake and move around this entire time. Shifting onto his right side, the elven male settled with his body facing towards the darkly dressed gentleman. With only the left leg kept in its original position, Hadrian would not dare any more pain.

Dark eyes stared down at him with an unreadable look, while shoulder lengths of dark wavy hair hung around his face.

'Who?' Green eyes narrowed at the strange human that had apparently been sitting at his side for however long it had been. It was then Hadrian caught the slightest of movement from the human sitting at his side. Without indicating that he had sighted the movement, the Warden-assassin tilted his head in confusion. "I do not understand your words Hume."

Fingers of his left hand slowly shifted position and curled gently over the pommel, before quietly moving to grasp the handle of the dagger. Fingers were firm and still, as sharp eyes caught the man removing an object from his pocket. A very long and thin object, almost like a miniature staff in size, only hand-held size.

It was just a flicker in the corner dark haired man's eyes, but it was enough to make the young elf move.

He dove off the bed, ignoring his leg which began to greatly pain him as it bled through the white linen bandages, indicating it had torn through again. Ducking under the coloured flash of light that shot over his head and hit the bed. Hadrian slipped the dagger out of its sheath into his palm and in an instant was inside the other man's defence. Clearly the human had not expected him to get up and actually move at the speed he had, as the others reflex was a little too slow. For the very moment he reacted, the elven assassin was already behind the dark-haired man and the dagger was poised at his throat, his warning clear.

Those sharp green eyes quickly flickered over the male, taking in the position of each hand. The left was on the arm of the chair, fingers gripping the end, skin white with sudden tension. The right held that miniature staff like object, wooden-brown, carved delicately and pointed directly at where his head was laying not seconds before. The pillow, as his eyes flickered over to inspect it for a long second or two, had indented from the blast, a blackened mark had appeared, but yet… As it had occurred to the young Warden, had not been destroyed as most magick spells would usually cause.

Moving slightly once all pieces had become clear to him, Hadrian stepped forward slightly from behind the elder human, dagger still poised at his throat as it traced a gentle path.

Fingers shifted up and gripped hold of his sheathed dagger, pulling it from the other sheath with a quiet 'snick' sound that echoed through the room. Turning a little more, green once more met those dark eyes, which stared back with an unknowable emotion, face fixated into a blank expression as the blade stopped just above the larynx.

The young-elf could feel himself frowning, lips pressed together tightly, his brows furrowed. Green eyes seeming to glow as he stared down the other, then the flat of his blade smacked down on the hand holding the miniature staff, a glare building. Do not try that again, his face was saying, as loose strands of hair from the braid at his back fell around his face, green eyes bright as the Warden-assassin shook his head firmly once.

Dark eyes stared back, the left hand having loosened its grip on the arm of the chair. That face wasn't so blank any more, still unreadable though to the general eye, as the human nodded ever so gently in return.

A sigh escaped, as fingers slipped his daggers away with a flick, magick warming the runes in the metal before they reappeared back in their sheath's once more. Before slipping tired fingers through wild locks of hair at the top of his head. Turning away to walk back to the bed as his leg trembled minutely, the Warden felt ready to collapse, he didn't want to show weakness in front of an unknown like the dark haired man, so forced the trembling to stop.

Then he sees that same flash of colour again, he swings around trying to grab his weapons, but it is too late, the spell hits him and darkness enfolds his thoughts.

End Chapter 2

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Extract from Chapter 3

A sigh escapes as the wand is lowered, left hand comes up and runs down his tired face. That had been too close, threatening by magic was fine but having a blade so close to the throat was a might too uncomfortable for his tastes. His left arm dropped to rest back upon the arm of the chair as the potion master stared in contemplation at the figure lying awkwardly on the bed.

This was no boy, no child who had landed on their laps, this was a young adult who was clearly well trained in combat, if the quick and precise movement had been any indication.

The Young Elven Man was clearly independent and strong, Yet Albus Dumbledore would be expecting either a child or a young teenager, yet his expectations would have to change.


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Zevran's Language.

Love/Affection/Fondness/Darling/Dear - Amore

My Shadow - la mia ombra

Rest now/Hour of Rest. Play later? - Ora di riposo. Riproduci in seguito?

Thedas's Elven.

Child - Dal'en

Earth Language.

Uoyerew ifi tahtod tndluowi. - I wouldn't do that if I were you.

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1. Left leg is the one with the Darkspawn blade still embedded within.

2. Hadrian and Zevran are bonded together.

3. Fawkes magic healing nearly killed harry, cause the Darkspawn blood in his body is completely bonded to him.