[AN] I don't own Harry Potter or Frozen

Harry Potter and the Amulet of Ice

Chapter One: Of Disasters and Distress

A beleaguered Harry Potter slowly regained consciousness as he became aware of the deafening noise of wind rushing past his ears. The next sensation was one of falling before he got a jolt of adrenalin and his eyes snapped open. For a moment he was quite confused as he tumbled through the air not knowing which way was up. The only reference was that half the constantly shifting environment was inky black, and the other half was inky black with small dots of light. Soon he realized that the dots were stars and thus the sky. He righted himself like any good quidditch player, and began to try and gauge the distance before he met the inevitable. At first he couldn't tell much about what he was looking at before the moon decided to peak around the dark cloud it had been behind, casting it's silvery light upon the landscape below. In this moment, he couldn't help but remember the series of events that brought him here.

Memory

The final battle, he can remember it as if it were yesterday. Voldemort had issued his ultimatum, though Harry had tried to comply and meet his fate alone, it was not to be. Blocking his path out of the castle were his friends. His teachers. His comrades. All of them; the only things left that he could call family. Even his trusty cloak of invisibility was of no use. They knew him too well. Said cloak fell from his shoulders as it was pulled from him by his two closest friends.

"Nice Try Harry." Said Hermione somberly

"Have to do better than that mate." Stated Ron

"We'll not leave you to do this alone Mr. Potter" said McGonagall

"You may well be the only one for the job, but you won't be the only one trying." Said Flitwick

"Today is the day we stand together." Said Ginny

"And fight for what's ours." Said Luna

"For those we love." Said Bill

"And those we've lost." Said Hagrid

"And for those who can't fight for themselves." Said Neville

"We will present a united front against all odds." Said Mr. Weasley

"With Constant Vigilance" Said Kingsley

"We shall prevail." Said Mrs. Weasley

"Or Die Trying." Said Hermione.

A moments silence passed

" 'Ear 'Ear!" Said George with half a smirk pointing to his missing ear.

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Unfortunately that speech would not come to fruition. The first half of the battle had already inflicted massive damage on the remaining forces of the Light. Tonks, Lupin, Fred, Colin, and Lavender had all fought valiantly and died in battle alongside many more comrades. Voldemort had not been amused when his ultimatum went un heeded, and attacked shortly after. The fight was enormous and catastrophic. Voldemort himself had entered the fray where Harry soon met him. They traded taunts and then the real battle started. It was a duel of epic proportions, but no one had time to stop and watch. On and on the battle raged. Neither giving an inch. Soon the fight came to a climax as the two titans faced off in the entrance courtyard where most of the fights were taking place. Harry noticed that Neville was tearing through the Death Eaters wielding the Sword of Gryffindor while Nagini seemed to have come down with a sudden case of decapitation. Ginny seemed to have taken a hit and was being tended to by Ron and Hermione whilst Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were on a rampage of sorts, ripping through the ranks of Death Eaters. The rest of their band had circled up and were surrounded.

"Well well Potter…seems we've reached the end of this charade." Taunted Voldemort.

"We'll see about that Tom, He who laughs last laughs loudest." Harry Spat

"And it will be I who will be laughing after I finish you." He sneered as he began charging a sickly green spell. "But before I kill you, I think I'll destroy your spirit. AVADA KED…" He said quickly changing his aim slightly.

"What!?" Harry said loudly following the line the spell would follow ending square in the back of a certain bushy haired bookworm. "NOO!" He shouted

"…AVRA!" The spell streaked toward its' target. And at this distance and angle, Harry's mind registered that it was very likely that all three of his friends could be hit by the spell.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. All his cognitive functions ceased save for whatever caused him to abandon everything, wand and all, and dive in front of the spell. The spell hit, and he knew no more.

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What followed was another series of events that involved a conversation with the late professor Dumbledore, a harrowing broom-chase, a building collapse, and a duel to the death. Those events, though thrilling, are less important to the current situation than what followed them. In the aftermath of the battle Harry found that of the combatants he seemed to be the sole survivor. The building collapse took out all of the remaining fighters both light and dark. It also seemed that with the final defeat of Voldemort, each and every marked Death Eater died along with him. The Unspeakables suspected some sort of dark magic that allowed him to draw strength from his followers that rebounded at the time of his death. But that was neither here nor there. The biggest loss was with Harry's Friends. They had all died valiantly in battle, but that fact did not dull the sting of the loss. It turns out that during this second Voldemort War, Wizarding Britain had lost nearly a third of its population. Most of them being lost in the final battle. The Ministry was in shambles, but it was in that condition long before the battle, due to Voldemort's takeover. Hogwarts had lost most of its teaching staff, not to mention the damage to the castle itself.

Truth be told. Harry sort of lost it there for a while. In fact he still wasn't sure if he had all his marbles back together yet. For the first while he did nothing but sit silent and maybe cry every now and again. Once the healers managed to get him fixed up, they tried to get a mind healer to speak with him, but they didn't get much out of him. By and by they released him. To what he didn't know. He had nowhere to go. His friends were all gone, and he sure wasn't going back to the Dursleys. So he kind of just hit the wilderness for awhile. He did have the presence of mind to pick up some supplies, but for the most part he just wandered around aimlessly. Out in the wilderness it doesn't really matter if you're out of it, as long as you keep yourself fed. There's also something to be said for keeping yourself busy. If you keep yourself busy you don't have as much time to think about things, and when you're by yourself you have a lot of things to do to keep busy.

Sometime later he found himself heading towards Hogwarts again. He wasn't really sure how long he'd been away, and he didn't much care. It was really the only place he'd ever felt at home, and he missed it. Which is why he was sitting behind Dumbledore's desk at the moment. It seemed that they still hadn't re-opened the school. In fact they hadn't even begun to repair it yet. ' Must be worse off than I thought.' He thought to himself. 'It's not fair. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. If only there was some way for me to go back and change things. Maybe I could save them.' He thought to himself angrily. As he kicked the underside of the desk.

The kick caused a drawer to open on the side. After a moment, curiosity got the better of him and he began rifling through the desk. Spare glasses, quills, ink, parchment, lemon drops, wand polish, all the normal sort of things you'd find in a wizard's desk. He came across some notes that he couldn't really make any sense of. Sketches of some sort of apparatus the purpose of which was a mystery to him. Then he found a small booklet that had Dumbledore's handwriting in it. It wasn't so much of a journal or a diary, but more of a place where he jotted ideas. It was while reading this booklet that he came to the conclusion that the apparatus in the notes had something to do with time or time travel or some such. If only Dumbledore had left some sort of actual diary that would describe what his thoughts were. Actually he probably did have something like that, but it would've either been taken by Snape during his tenure as Headmaster, or the more likely option that it would have been on one of the rooms many bookshelves that now existed in the form of ash.

Nevertheless, this gave him some hope that he might be able to do something about that. This is what sparked many long hours in the Hogwarts library, which strangely was untouched. He didn't know what was happening in the Wizarding world or why no one had so much as checked the old castle, but at this point he didn't much care. Eventually he had constructed the apparatus in the remains of the great hall. Luckily he had found a store room in the dungeons that contained most of the raw materials needed for its construction. Perhaps Dumbledore had plans to construct it in the future. It was a large brass circle as the centerpiece. Big enough to stand in. held upright by a frame that had large hourglasses on either side filled with a potion that turned out to be very tricky to make. There were several large crystals at precise intervals along it, along with intricate runes that he was careful to transcribe exactly as they were in the notes. There was a small dial on the side of the machine to input the destination.

Soon the day came to try out the machine. He checked once again that he had everything he wanted to take with him, and set the machine to send him back to his 11th birthday. Then, he simply powered up the machine and stood in the middle. He waited for it to warm up to a nice hum before beginning the chant outlined in the notes. As he cast the spell, the crystals seemed to glow brighter, and the hum get louder and louder. Before long some stray bricks began falling from the rafters above, and with the 5th reading of the chant, the crescendo reached its apex and the room was bathed in a light so bright that shadows were burned into the walls.

/Memory

~HP~FRZN~HP~FRZN~HP~FRZN~

He quickly snapped himself out of his reverie as he rapidly descended. With the newfound moonlight shining on the ground he could see that he was still quite high up, and above what seemed to be a pristine snowy mountainside. He could see the start of a forest, steadily sloping downwards to a lush valley, and further down the coast, the twinkling lights of a town wrapped around a quiet harbor. One might call it a wondrous sight if they weren't currently hurtling to their doom. Most people would be wracking their brains trying to figure out what to do, but Harry was not most people. He calmly reached over his head into the backpack he had brought with him, and from the flap he pulled a wooden handle, and kept pulling until he had, brought out of the undetectable extension charm he'd cast upon it, his trusty broomstick. He mounted his Firebolt and turned his falling momentum into forward motion with a mere thought before slowing considerably and bringing himself in for a soft landing in the flawless powder below.

He padded over to a cliff overlooking the valley in order to get his bearings. He could only just see the town in the distance although no more than a few minutes broom ride away. He supposed that this could be the place where Uncle Vernon had rented the rowboat for the trip out to the hut on the rock. The place where he'd spent his 11th birthday. The place where Hagrid rescued him and told him he was a wizard. Although, he didn't recall that scrubby little town being anywhere near a mountain the size of the one he was standing upon. Or he could have simply not noticed it. First things first. He was supposed to have traveled through time. So he cast a quick 'Tempus' spell to confirm he had landed in the when he had been aiming for. Alas, the glowing numbers projecting from his wand informed him that he had grossly overshot. They read "July 31, 1836" his hopes deflated in an instant. He puzzled for several minutes over what could have caused this major malfunction. It could have been anything. A mis-transcribed rune. An error in the potion he'd used. A flaw in one of the crystals. A mispronunciation of the chant. He silently reprimanded himself for acting like a true Gryffindor. Leaping before he looked, and using a ritual he knew next to nothing about with only a crazy old headmaster's notes to go on. He then trudged around for quite a time berating himself before resolving, in the future, to show a little more forethought in things. After all, he didn't have Hermione to guide him back on track anymore.

That thought sobered him up. The wound was still there, and would probably never go away completely. He then felt himself start to slip back into the depression that always came from remembering his long lost friends, but this time he had a thought. Even though his friends were gone, they would always be with him in some ways. Like how Ron would no doubt be right behind him, had he been around for it. While Harry was always the first into action, Ron was always a close second. Then when they had gotten themselves into as much trouble as they could, Hermione would show up and bail them out. He chuckled out loud as he thought about them. 'Alright, if I were Hermione, what would I do?' he thought to himself.

"Shelter. Got to get somewhere safe, then maybe I can figure out where I am." He mumbled to himself.

He needed to find out more about where he was. It wouldn't do to just stroll in somewhere and start asking questions. Luckily he had a cloak of invisibility to make reconnaissance a breeze. He donned his cloak and re-mounted his broom and swooped off towards the town. Stealthily of course.

A few minutes later he feathered into the sleepy coastal town and managed to find what looked to be a tavern of some sort that was still quite lively, despite the hour, and crept up to a window. Fortunately it seemed to be quite a bit warmer in the valley than it had been on the mountain. They still had a fire going in the hearth, but someone saw fit to crack open a window to enjoy the cool night air. He saw several people inside. It was your typical bar. Some singing, some dancing, some gambling. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. He could tell from their clothes and their accents that he must be somewhere around Scandinavia. One thing that confused him was how they all seemed to be speaking English, he thought that they'd be speaking Swedish or something, but he filed that way for later.

Through careful eavesdropping, all he managed to gather was that the city was called Arendelle and the mountain he'd landed on was called the North Mountain. He tried to learn more, but the cold began to get to him, and he didn't exactly pack for winter. He chose to try and find some shelter for the night. He saw a large stable nearby that looked to be quite warm, and quietly entered the hayloft. He made a spot for himself in a dark corner and quickly dozed off, the rigors of time travel overcoming him. his only company being the livestock below.

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His dreams were plagued with visions of the final battle, of not being able to protect his friends. He had scarcely had a nightmare this bad since the eternal camping trip when Voldemort would frequently torment him via the mind link provided by the horcrux in his scar. This one, however, was almost physically painful. He could feel himself thrashing around. Unable to do or think of anything other than the pain. Soon he felt the pain lessen as his consciousness seemed to be pulled up away from it. He could see his friends dying faces begin to fade away from his vision. And soon he could see the fuzzy outline of a boy.

"Hey. Wake up. Can you hear me?" said the boy. Harry didn't recognize the voice, but he could vaguely see that he was blonde.

"M..Malfoy?" he croaked oddly, still half asleep.

"What'd you say? Hey. Snap out of it." The boy said as he shook Harry's shoulders.

Coming more out of it, Harry realized that it couldn't be Malfoy. He'd died in the battle along with everyone else who'd taken the dark mark. Plus this kid's hair was too dark anyways. He began to search for his glasses. "what're you looking for?" the boy asked.

"Glasses." He said. Noting how odd his voice sounded.

"Oh. Here they are." The boy handed them to him, and the world came in to focus, despite the dim early morning light.

He could see the boy didn't look a thing like Draco. He had a round face and dirty blonde hair. Obviously Scandinavian. Looked to be about 8 or 9 years old.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, what are you doing up here anyways? I heard you thrashing around and thought you were a big rat. Looked like you were having some sort of a fit. You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine. Just a bad dream." He said in a voice that was oddly high pitched.

He reached up to feel his throat and noticed that his arms were far too short for his sleeves. All his clothes were too loose for that matter. He tried to scramble to his feet, but tripped over his too large shoes. And fell down again.

"Woah. Hey. You sure your feeling okay?" asked the boy. "What's up with those clothes? Did you steal them or something?"

"No. I think I may have….well…either they grew, or I shrunk." He stood slowly and further examined himself.

It seemed he was now back in his 11 year old body. Yet another side effect of time travel it seemed. Well he did set the device for his 11th birthday, so maybe it was just a delayed effect. He pulled a small mirror out of his bag to confirm that his 11 year old reflection was staring back at him.

"Right…and you're sleeping in the hayloft because…" he said sarcastically bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

"Well.. I uh really didn't have anywhere else to go…" he trailed off

"Did you run away from your parents or something?"

"My parents died a long time ago." He said sadly.

"That makes two of us." Said the other boy just as sadly. They sat in silence for a moment. "well. If you don't have anywhere to go, you can stay with me if you want, but if you do you'd better come on because I'm running late." He said as he began climbing back down the ladder.

"Hey wait a minute." Yelled Harry as he struggled to get down the ladder with his baggy clothes and his backpack. "Late for what?" he asked as the boy was digging in a large bundle that looked to be a primitive backpack.

"Work. Me and Sven are Ice Harvesters." The boy smiled as he fed a carrot to a small reindeer that was in a stall.

"Who's Sven?"

"Oh, Right sorry. This is Sven, and I'm Kristoff." He said motioning to the small reindeer then himself.

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

"Nice to meet you Harry."

"You Too." He replied, feeling refreshed that the obligatory glance at his scar after hearing his name was absent for once.

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*Knock, Knock, Knock*

"Hey Elsa… Do you want to build a snowman?" said a little girl to a closed door.

"Not now Anna. Maybe later." Was the reply from beyond it.

"Oh..Okay then." The redhead said sadly as she slumped and trudged down the hallway, her favorite doll dragging along the floor behind her.

She wandered aimlessly through the castle, staring sightlessly down at her feet. Soon she found herself in one of the parlors. It was lavishly decorated with paintings, statues, comfy furniture, and thick squishy carpet. She crawled up on one of the couches on her hands and knees and draped herself over the armrest in order to gaze out the window at its side. After who knows how long of watching the world go by outside with only the ticking grandfather clock to keep her company, she let her doll slip from her fingers and land on the floor, then she purposely melted head-first off the armrest to do a boneless summersault and lay flat on her back in the fluffy carpet. Then she stared at the ceiling for a while, using her tongue to keep time with the clock.

*tick, tock, tick, tock*

Several minutes later, her mind registered the sound of the doors opening at the other end of the cavernous room, and the sound of one of the maids humming quietly to herself as she dusted the various curios that inhabited the room. The girl didn't seem to have the energy to move, so she simply stayed where she was as the maid continued around the room. When the lady got close enough for her to look up and see her she spoke.

"Whatcha doin?" she said curiously. The maid jumped and squeaked a little bit before looking down and seeing the little girl laying on the floor.

"AAAhhh…Oh. Lady Anna. You almost scared the daylights out of me." She said as she put her hand over her heart, and taking a few breaths. "I'm dustin', what are you doin?" she returned playfully.

"I'm thinkin." She said in the same tone as before. The maid sat down on the couch so she could look over and see the girl.

"Oh. Whatcha thinkin bout?" the maid returned as she put her elbow on the rest and her chin in her hand as if they were going to have a serious discussion.

"Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Boring stuff."

"Oh no. that's no fun at all. How about we play a short little game?"

"Really?! Okay!" the girl sprang up to her feet and did her best to get right in the young woman's face. "What are we playing?" the woman chuckled.

"Well let's see. How about this, you can be the damsel, I'll be the evil witch that has cast a spell on you." She mimed, as Anna thought for a moment.

"But who will be the dashing hero?" this time the maid thought for a second before bending down and picking up the doll.

"Here we go. I've found a volunteer." She mimed the doll walking.

Unfortunately the little girl had the opposite reaction she had been expecting. She looked startled for a moment before quickly snatching the doll out of the woman's hands, cutting her off mid chuckle. The woman was about to apologize but Anna beat her to it.

"S..sorry, but I'm the only one who gets to play with Mr. Piffles." She said in a small voice as she hugged the doll to herself.

"I'm sorry dear. I didn't know that."

"It's okay. How about you be the damsel, and I'll be the witch." She brightened up.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I always get to be the damsel. I think it's someone else's turn. Plus I've been practicing my…WiiIIITch Voiccceee HE..HEhehehehe" she cackled as she waggled her fingers maliciously toward the maid. Who responded by acting as if she had been struck by a spell and animatedly falling over on the couch her hand over her forehead.

"Oh. Dearest me. I've been cursed by a dark witch, if only there were someone brave enough to rescue me." She lamented breathily.

"Never fear milady, for the brave knight Sir Piffles has arrived." Said the little girl in the most masculine voice she could muster as she pantomimed the doll.

~HP~FRZN~HP~FRZN~HP~FRZN~

Author's Note

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Well, that's Chapter one. I've been wanting to do this ever since I first saw Frozen. The beginning scenario is actually recycled from another one of the stories I'm working on, but you all won't know that as I haven't posted it yet. I just didn't feel like writing another non-canon version, and it won't have all that much bearing on this story anyways.

Sorry if subjecting Harry to Age Regression is weird for you, but I think it was necessary for the story. Plus I couldn't really think of a good way to do it, so just chalk it up to the 'Weird things always happen to Harry' syndrome.

Virtual cookies for you, if you know where Mr. Piffles comes from.

Credit for the Cover Art goes to Lime-Hael at deviantart (ShamelessPlug)

P.S. this may be sort of early to ask this sort of thing, but I need a little feedback in order to continue with this story. I'll try not to spoil it by asking.

I have written up to a point where one of the characters may develop certain magical powers. I see maybe three options.

1: go whole hog, and have them develop a fully functional ability

2: marginal ability, some aptitude, but lacking in magnitude. Perhaps to be enhanced at a later time.

3: minimal ability, sparks, hints, flashes. Sensitivity, but little to no utility.

If you know the story, you can probably guess who I'm talking about, but I really would just like your input on the level of enhancement.

Thanks in advance!

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Tksanders3