Full Summary: No one had ever crossed realities by sneezing before. Yet, Leaf Potter was not just anyone one, was she? After trying to floo to Kirkwall in Orkney Scotland, and sneezing at precisely the wrong time, she ended up in a very different kind of Kirkwall. One with slavers, and sycophants, and very sticky endings. Fem!Harry, Elf!Harry/Fenris.


PROLOGUE:

All The Best Stories.


No One's P.O.V

If anyone were to ever ask Leaf Potter how she ended up in a city called Kirkwall, in a land known as Thedas, she would lie. She would tell tales of epic battles won, a damsel or two saved, perhaps even a mighty dragon slayed, as all good stories had. Each time, she thought, she would tell it differently too. So in the end, no one, not a soul, would ever be sure exactly where the enigmatic Miss Potter came sailing in from.

One day, it would be on the tail end of an unseasonable storm. Another, she would have fallen from the heavens from the back of a golden griffin. The next, she was smuggled in carrying the lost crown jewels of a fallen dynasty. After, she was a simple farming girl who slept in the back of a cart of hay who only ever ate carrots.

Tales were the collective exchange of humanity, and the universe was not made up of atoms or matter or string theory, Leaf thought, but hewn from a million and more stories. By the time she died, Leaf wanted to add a few more of those star-bright fables to the skies.

Her name may be forgotten. Leaf, in time, may become a Harry, or a Houdini, or even a Hardwin. Decades from then, when time muddled the truth as it was prone to do, she may be a six-foot-three blonde ogre with only one tooth, and yet, her legend would never die. The heart of her story would live on long after her bones turned to dust.

Sometimes, quite by accident, there were happy endings. Sometimes, a lost elven child could find her way home. Sometimes, a slave could break his chains and become a free man. Sometimes, family was something made, not born into. Sometimes, love could be found in even the darkest of places, and Kirkwall was a dark, dark place.

Sometimes… Sometimes.

Or, perhaps, the reason Leaf Potter chose to lie would be because it was terribly embarrassing to admit her appearance in Kirkwall was all quite by accident. One did not typically traverse realities by sneezing when floo to Kirkwall in Orkney, Scotland.

No, that simply just wasn't done… Unless you were a Potter, with all the Potter luck, then, maybe, after being invited to a memorial gathering by Cormac McLaggen, who had become quite a fine Wizard after the dreadful Battle of Hogwarts, at his home in Orkney, you may accidentally sneeze throwing down the floo powder halfway through speaking your destination, a sneeze that sounded suspiciously like 'Thedas', and then… Well.

Leaf supposed it was best, as with all stories, to start at the beginning, and like all the best stories, it began in a pub.

A pub called The Hanged Man.


Thoughts?

A.N/ Chapter lengths will inevitably grow as the fic continues, but as this is the prologue, I wanted something short and sweet to catch the senses. This fic will also focus heavily on Elven culture from the Dragon Age games, and will most likely be a slow burn.