The Chalice – Harry Potter and Narnia Crossover (HPCoN)

AN: I'ved edited all the chapter 1 through 6, so I apologize for the plethora of emails my followers will receive. Though I will also post chapter 7 too. Edited 9/30/19 for some continuity errors.

Chapter 1 - Flames of Golden Fire

October 31, 1994 - Great Hall, Hogwarts

The wooden chalice blazed a deep gold, blinding students with its brilliance. The rumble of a lion's roar echoed in the air.

"Awake King of Narnia! There is much to be done!"

Snap!

Edmund's eyes flew open to see a marble floor rush to meet him. Glimpses of young children lit by candle light flew past him. Lithe as a cat Edmund twisted to land on his feet rolling to reduce impact, his dark winter coat swirling around him as he came up tall with dark emerald eyes flashing proudly.

Stunned awe greeted his arrival as the startled yelps faded into silence. Smirking, glee flashed in calculating green eyes, half hidden behind wire rim spectacles, as he scanned the crowd. He was in the middle of a great stone hall, not unlike his own beloved Cair Paravel. Quickly he ticked off the exits and saw four tables crowded with youths, oddly dressed ones at that, while a table of adults sat up on a dias behind an unremarkable wooden chalice. Upon seeing the archaic architecture and robe-clad figures, Edmund decided a little fun was in order.

"Arte thou the foolish ones who summoned me, a creature of Deep Magic, against mine will?"

His voice, deep and commandingly regal, washed over the hall. Surprise flickered in the adults' eyes, though one of them, scarred and misshapen, twitched as if Edmund was expected yet not, and disappointment flickered in his one brown eye.

Found him, he's the summoner. An almost feral grin flashed across Edmund's pale face before he quickly replaced it with a mask of polite indignation.

"Harry Potter."

It was the old man clad in an eyesmarting magenta robe, who spoke from a wizened face framed by silver locks.

Yes, his dark head inclined slightly as Edmund replied. "A forgotten title, not oft used yet for long ago." Gasps rippled through the air of the hall. Edmund could hear snatches of their whispering.

"Blimey! You think it's really him?"

"- compete even though he's not -"

"I don't believe it. Must be that old fart Dumble-"

Edmund silenced them in an instant. "Now, as thou already know a title of mine, 'tis only common courtesy to require one of thine. Thy name, good sir?" It was a command from one accustomed to respect.

The old man spoke again, his periwinkle eyes grave. "Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Edmund's hand twitched to his left hip and a barely discernible glimpse of fear and shame flashed in his eyes. Oh, Aslan protect me! Intellectually Edmund knew that not all magic was evil, the fallen star magician he met during the voyage upon the Dawn Treader a prime example, but the word witch evoked his worst memories.

"Besides me as distinguished guests are Madame Maxine and Professor Karkaroff, Headmistress and Headmaster of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang respectively."

"Well meet kind sir and lady. By thy leave Headmaster Dumbledore, enlighten thy audience as to thine purpose in using an object of Deep Magic to summon a King of Narnia?"

Even more muttering followed this pronouncement. Edmund maintained a neutral tone and blank face as he spoke, gesturing towards the wooden chalice that barely glittered with now sapphire blue flames.

"I believe Mister Potter that this a conversation best held in private. If you would follow me, the Heads and I will gladly answer your questions, as well as ask our own." He turned to the lady -witch- Edmund corrected himself, besides him in tartan green robes. "Professor McGonagall, please see to it that the students return to their dormitories." He turned to leave in a swirl of those flurid robes, "Oh, and please send the three champions up to my office as well."

Dark brows knit slightly at the mention of champions, but combined with the multitude of whispers, Edmund realized that some type of tournament was being held here. Just his luck to have crashed into the middle of it.

Edmund easily followed the group through the corridors of a medieval-esque castle. As they traversed the halls, Edmund felt the magic that permeated the air. He took a deep breath feeling the ancient magic thrum through his veins. He hadn't felt this alive since his return to Narnia aboard the Dawn Treader. Hogwarts was old, very old. THe castle embraced those who graced her halls in benevolent magic for protection and comfort, reminiscent of the Lion's warm breath.

I've returned to England, Aslan. Why have you called me here? How may I serve you, here, among my worst nightmares?

…

Hermione was as surprised as anyone when the stranger fell through the enchanted ceiling after the mysterious entry of Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

What truly surprised her though was his appearance, granted he was the definition of handsome with well-defined jawline and brilliant green eyes, yet it was his clothes that shocked her. Clearly, he was magical -he dropped from the ceiling!- but dressed as a muggle. A very handsome and put together middle to upper class muggle with a long dark blue coat over a black sweater and a silver scarf, finished with tousled black hair and wire rimmed glasses.

Then his speech, regal and compelling, stunned her. Who was this man? Surely not Harry Potter? He was nothing like her books said. She felt an absurd need to head to the library and research this development. Deep Magic? She had never heard of the thing. Narnia? It was on no map she knew, though granted she wasn't well versed in geography. Her fellow Ravenclaws discussed the event as they hiked up to their tower dormitory. Wild and ridiculous theories flew through the air, though one stuck with Hermione as she readied herself for bed.

'How very odd,' Luna Lovegood had said, 'He has no nargles to speak of.'

Yes, Hermione was a very surprised witch. Especially, when a few days later she met the mysterious muggle face to face in the library.

…

October 31st, 1994 - Headmaster's Office

Headmaster Dumbledore's office was slightly surprising to the youngest male Pevensie. Filled to the brim with silver instruments that twirled and spun, emitted swirls of brightly colored smoke, and in one odd case, whistled like a teapot. Recalling his training under the fallen star, Edmund could guess many of the functions of the instruments but that only served to fuel his interest in this strange place he had landed in. Why ever would someone bother to enchant toads to sing, much less need to measure the result?

The wizard Albus Dumbledore was confused, an unfamiliar sensation and one he quite disliked. How had Harry's name appeared in the Goblet? The Wizarding World had searched for years once they realized that the boy-who-lived was missing. He himself devoted countless hours to the effort. And now the boy was here, but quite unlike anything Dumbledore ever excepted. He was a boy no longer, but a young man, assured of himself and confident of his place in it. Periwinkle blue eyes gazed piercingly above half-moon glasses at the raven-haired youth as Harry wandered around the office, displaying a cursory interest in the magical instruments strewn about. Dumbledore was astounded as Harry bowed to Fawkes and murmured a greeting, the phoenix let of a trill of pleasure in reply. It was simply unheard of! Upon the arrival of the three champions, looking deciding confused at the sudden summoning, Dumbledore began the meeting.

"There has been an unprecedented incident tonight where another name appeared from the Goblet of Fire."

"How iz zis possible Dumbl'dore? Your age line zould be impazzible." Madame Maxine made her ire known. Professor Karkaroff jumped in, shouting angrily, "This is a conspiracy by Hogwarts! We all know that Harry Potter is British, they want two champions!"

"Outrageous!" Professor McGonagall cried, "Harry Potter has never set foot in Hogwarts until this very night. There is reason for him to represent Hogwarts in the tournament." This devolved into a shouting match between the foreign heads of school as well as Professor McGonagall. Edmund found it all very improper for figures of authority. Instead he found his eyes resting on the other champions, assessing them. If this tournament was anything like he anticipated then it was wise to know his opponents. He judged them to be about two years younger than him, about seventeen, but there the similarities ended. One was an almost ethereally beautiful girl, with long white blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes. She was slight of build but tall. The young men besides her were leaning in such a way as to shield the blonde from any attack, though it seemed more of an unconscious reaction than a purposeful stance. One was a stocky youth with thick dark brows drawn in a frown over glowering dark eyes. The second youth was slimmer and sported a head of chestnut hair, face relaxed and smiling openly. A sudden statement from a wane grey-haired man drew his attention from his fellow champions.

"But he must compete. According to the magically binding contract any name which emerges from the Goblet must compete or lose their magic."

Lose his magic? Edmund never thought that he had magic, though now that he thought about it the odd little things that happened to him over the years began to make sense. Deciding the time was right, he stepped forward authoritatively, like a King before his throne.

"Since my participation has been decided Headmasters and Headmistress, my question regarding the object of Deep Magic still stands for an answer."

"Yes, I promised you an answer didn't I?" Dumbledore sighed, "Unfortunately, my dear boy I am unsure why you describe the Goblet of Fire as Deep Magic, but this chalice descends from ancient times even before Merlin. The contracts it contains are unequivocally binding and if the oath is broken, a price is taken." Even the other adults were listening attentively to Dumbledore's explanation.

"The chalice has been passed down family by family before the British Ministry of Magic claimed ownership, in order to preserve and protect this artifact. As to why it was used today, the best three magical institutes of Europe have come together to create international bonds through Tri-Wizard Tournament. Though," Dumbledore gave a dry chuckle, "it is the Quad-wizard Tournament now." No one else laughed.

"The collective three Ministries decided upon an objective judge, which brings us to the Goblet of Fire."

Edmund nodded his head at the explanation, "Understandable. Just and fair, as is all Deep Magic."

"Now, Mister Potter, I believe I have a question for you." Edmund was unsurprised to see all the occupants of the room turn to him; he face remained neutral and impassive, as if attention was a natural part of his life. Which as a King of Narnia, it was.

"Who are you? You mentioned other titles. I confess I'm quite curious as to what they are and how someone as young as you could have them."

Edmund stood tall and regal. "I am King Edmund the Just, Duke of the Lantern Waste, Count of the Western March, Knight of the Noble Order of the Table, and as thy knows Harry Potter." As he spoke his titles, it seemed as if Edmund grew in years and nobility, infusing his audience with the sense that he truly was a king.

…

October 31st, 1994 – Spare room, Gryffindor Tower

Sighing, Edmund lay on the red covers of his newly appointed canopy bed. Oh, how much he missed his siblings at this moment, especially after the bombardment of questions from the Heads. Accustomed to attention as he was, Edmund preferred the background as his venue of choice, unlike his siblings.

His smiled as he imagined their reactions to Hogwarts and its magic. Lucy would have been already been bouncing around the walls, searching the corridors and badgering the students about their studies. Moreover, through it all she would be charming the magical populace left and right with her innocence and cheer. Peter, reckless and headstrong Peter, would be conversing with the paintings, discovering all he could about the culture and its more dangerous aspects. He was always protecting them, Edmund thought fondly.

Susan. A brief pain flickered in his chest at the thought of his lost sister. Tears slipped from closed lids and wet his cheeks. They would meet again, that he was certain of. Not in this world, but definitely in the next.

King Edmund of Narnia turned in his sleep, mulling over the mysteries of Hogwarts and magic, before his dreams became memories.

AN: I'm super excited to post this chapter! I've had this idea for months, and have been slowly fleshing out the world and story. It's not perfect but if it's confusing let me know in the reviews! Enjoy the story.