This is my attempt at a Harry Potter/ Witcher story. I have no illusions that I am an incredible writer but this thought would not leave me alone for some reason. The pairing will be Harry/Ciri although she and Geralt won't make any real appearance until Witcher 3 (1272), mainly because everything I know about the universe come from The Witcher 3, FanFiction and the wiki. There will be a few cameos before then and I will try to move to that period of time as quickly as possible but I don't intent to rush the start too much. It's (rather foolishly on my part) intended to be quite long but I have no idea how far I will get with. Anyway I hope you enjoy it and if not then I'd really appreciate a review telling me what I could do better.

Prologue

Lily Potter nee Evans was an exceptionally smart witch, her results in OWL's and NEWT's could attest to that much. Ever since Dumbledore had told her and James of that accursed prophecy she had been making plans for the survival of her son first and foremost and her and James second. For it didn't matter if neither of them believed it, Voldemort did and that was enough to make it a great threat to them.

For years Voldemort had killed his enemies indiscriminately regardless of race, sex, religion or blood purity; in fact the only thing that they all had in common was that they had all met death as a direct result of the killing curse. As an active participant in the war Lily was well aware of this fact and thus she prepared for the eventuality that Voldemort did actually come knocking. Well obviously Voldemort wasn't the type of man to knock on the door but you knew what she meant. Harry's survival was paramount to her, unquestionably the most important thing in her life and she would do anything to see him survive.

It was with this single minded focus she delved into magic further than she ever had before. She scoured every book that she could find for anything that might prove useful in protecting her family but almost every book proved fruitless. Almost. One book knew of a ritual which could protect someone but only if life was willingly given to protect said person. With little other options and no knowledge of when Voldemort may or may not come for them she jumped on the knowledge and made swift preparations.

A ritual such as the one she was prepared to use would almost certainly result in her being scorned and ostracised from magical society if they discovered it but that was secondary to keeping her child safe. The ritual would protect her son from anything so long as she lay down her life in defence of her son willingly. Unfortunately for Lily she could not know that Voldemort would have a worse plan for her son than simple death, for her son was to be used for the creation of Voldemort's final horcrux and his ultimate defeat of death.

October 31st 1981

When the dreaded night came, the night Lily hoped never would but had known deep down was inevitable, a matter of time, she was ready.

The wards flared as Voldemort tore them down with a laziness that spoke volumes of his arrogance and confidence. James rushed to fight him wand in hand and even gave a fairly good accounting himself but 'fairly good' was nowhere near enough to stop Voldemort tearing through him like wet paper in a matter of a minute.

Voldemort strode calmly over the body of James Potter the fool who thought he could defend himself and his family from him, Voldemort. He slowly began to ascend the stairs to where he could sense the mudblood and her whelp.

When he reached the door he saw her standing there tearfully standing in front of a crib containing her son wand in hand. A wandless gesture and she was disarmed. She didn't seem concerned for the loss of her wand but moments later Voldemort knew why as she broke down begging for her sons life, for him to spare him take her instead. The display was rather pathetic he thought as he looked down at her with red malevolent eyes.

"Step aside girl" he commanded, his follower Snape had asked this of him in return for sharing the prophecy and Voldemort figured that one as benevolent as him should at least try to honour the wishes of his servants.

"Please", she sniffled out, tears streaking down her cheeks "take me, please spare Harry, he's innocent. Please I'll do anything!" her voice now hoarse and her breathing coming hard as panic overwhelmed her. Not for her but her child.

"Move aside you silly girl" He commanded again. This was testing his patience rather much and he was close to disregarding Severus' wishes.

"Please". Voldemort's lips curled in distaste as he looked down at her tearful display.

"Lord Voldemort doesn't ask thrice" he sneered down at her as he raised his wand and shouted out the last words Lily Evans would ever hear "Avada Kedavra". She fell over dead, although Voldemort did note with some curiosity that her face seemed to be wearing a smile now rather than the anguish she had been displaying over the course of their little encounter. Voldemort wasn't very good with emotions so he just wrote it off as her perhaps being depressed, he couldn't fathom why else she might smile as she died.

He strode past her and looked down into the crib at the young boy who prophesy decreed would dethrone him, he sneered down at him. As if such a pathetic being could defeat him, he was immortal an immortality that would be secured with this child's death. He had been preparing for this night for a long time now, ever since the spineless worm Wormtail had told him of the Potter's fidelius hidden house. Nothing could be allowed to go wrong.

In his arrogance he never even thought of the possibility that a mudblood a being inferior to Lord Voldemort, who had died begging for her sons life could have outwitted him even in death. His soul had been ready for the split now for weeks. His soul would now easily flow into his most prized possession. His wand. He loomed ominously and by this point young Harry had woken up and was now crying noisily presumably at the loss of his mother. Voldemort spared one last glance at the boy and raised his wand. The boy was clutching a blanket with his name on it and small golden lions covering it. The boy himself Voldemort thought looked no different from any other baby he had ever seen, like a potato with a small amount of hair. The only thing that made him seem any different from any other child was his eyes, an almost glowing green.

"You might have one day been a real threat to me child. Lord Voldemort allows no competition. AVADA KEDVRA" Vicious green light erupted from his wand and struck Harry in the forehead. At this moment Voldemort was already tearing his soul away ready to put it in his wand leaving him unable to realise the rune circles hidden under the carpet had just started glowing.

The power of the ritual dedicated to protecting Harry, fuelled by his mother's death and love clashed with the killing curse and Voldemort who was currently wrangling his soul in preparation of ripping it from his body. The clash was vicious, an immovable object and unstoppable force would be a good way to put it and thus it was that an unexpected outcome occurred.

The power of both the killing curse and the ritual reflected back on the user. Unfortunately for Voldemort this meant his physical form would be cast in to obscurity for many years. That's not to say he came out the worst though. At least he was still on the planet; Harry however was catapulted through space and time. Harry could do naught but cry as magic tore through space and time and pulled him along for the ride.

Novigrad- 1246 November 31st

Saovine celebrations were still going, even early into the morning. It would be some hours before first light and so you could still see the fires out with burning models of Falka the famed rebel. People were out celebrating raucously almost all of them blind drunk committing all kinds of shenanigans. Yet said shenanigans would not be the most important thing this night no instead the most important thing happening in Novigrad was the burst of magic that occurred on a deserted street, powerful enough to be sensed by sufficiently magically sensitive people hundreds of miles away, powerful enough to warrant investigation. However said burst of magic had little effect on the Novigrad street except to make it seem as if there was a particularly powerful gust of wind. No houses were damaged and no glass was put out, fortunate because that would have pissed off a lot of drunk people.

In the middle of the muddy, wet street was a babe who had appeared in the burst of magic and was now sleeping, exhausted by the events of the evening. He lay there for at least half an hour in the mud and the street until eventually a patrol of the city guard happened upon him. Dressed in plate armour one of them gave his polearm to the other and bent down to pick the boy up staring at him quizzically as if trying to figure out why he was there before his face slowly betrayed his growing understanding.

"Another one eh?" asked the other of the guard "damn shame how many leave their kids out here likes this, Hans said he found 4 of them but a month ago."

"Aye, its common enough" the other guard spoke back with a hard tone "city is going to be crawling with orphans and beggars at this rate" He held the boy up and inspected him "Sleeping. Know what I reckon happened Bogdan?" The other guard looked at him and gave a half shrug.

"Didn't want another mouth to feed I assume" he replied

"Nah, not quite. I reckon the mother was a whore. Wanted to keep the child until eventually she found out it was more effort than it was worth. Think of how much work she must have missed. Much easier to just dump him while he sleeps." The guard seemed confident in his statement but regardless he turned to the other guard to gage his reaction, he seemed to think similarly because he grunted and gave a nod. "Anyway, can't keep him here, child's like to freeze to death and the sooner we get rid of him the quicker we can go for a drink."

"Aye right you are. Saint Gregory's orphanage then?" asked the second guard as he looked in the direction of most of the fires, the more affluent Temple Isle area where more people were burning fires and Falka models.

"Aye it's a bit of a walk but fortunately it's on the way to the barracks, child will be fed, watered and given a bed until he's 10 then he's out with all the other gutter rats. Like to become one of them I tell you, not a one of them grows up to become anything less than a thief and a cheat." That seemed to be the end of the conversation as they wandered off to find the St Gregory's orphanage and drop off the child.

St Gregory's orphanage was to put it bluntly a shithole. It had been opened up in recognition of Saint Gregory a wealthy merchant who gave up half of his fortune to import food from Nazair in an awful famine, now though it had fallen into disrepair and was underfunded and cram packed full of young children. A few women worked around and fed the children however they were very understaffed considering that there was almost nobody who would freely give up their time to help the children. The place had in recent times had to start kicking children out at around 10 because they couldn't afford to look after them all, this led to many dying in the street hungry or killed in the process of stealing. Truly a charming place for young Harry to spend the year's most important to his development.

The guards dropped him off with no theatrics, this was common practise unfortunately and children arrived with alarming regularity. The madams of the orphanage eyed him disdainfully. Once upon a time many of these women had actually cared about these children however the short funds and the harsh nature of the place quickly made many of them immune to the children's suffering. Many of the women had made it their mission to instil some discipline and respect in many of the children before they were turned out into society. Harry would soon learn that they did this in many ways that in his home world would most definitely be classed as child abuse. For now however Harry was put down in a worn and dirty cot and left to sleep through the night.

Slightly later that same night…

Morning was just around the corner and all Saovine celebrations had died down to nary a murmur by this point in time and thus this was the sort of time no one would notice an odd character walking the street, a sorceress for example.

Perfect Philippa thought as she walked towards were she thought she sensed the faint traces of magic that had earlier felt like a miasma of power washing over her senses. No doubt sorcerers and sorceresses would be discreetly swarming this street in the coming days but fortunately there were no notable magic users in Novigrad at the moment, aside from her obviously.

Vizimir had sent her for trade relations, officially that is, she suspected he might have grown slightly annoyed with her and wished for a reason to not see her for a while. Normally she would be incensed and she still was but she was just now appreciating the opportunity that it had provided her. She was the first one on the scene of a powerful magic burst, perhaps an artefact or more interestingly a source. Perhaps she could turn them to her side she thought and make an ally of them or… or…No. She cut off that line of thought; better not to get ones hopes ups especially in the absence of any evidence other than the magic burst.

She stilled when she thought her self at the epicentre and tried looking around on the ground for any impressions, footprints perhaps, they wouldn't be much be she might be able to guess the sex of the individual and guess a direction if the magic trail proved too weak. The lack of light on the street didn't make seeing such things easy but with a murmured word a ball of light was in her hands, she was a sorceress after all. Nothing other than a pair off guard's hob nailed boot prints she thought with a huff and quickly refocused on the magic with all the skill expected of a 160 year old sorceress. The trail and it was faint but just about noticeable. She made great haste to follow it as it would only get weaker the longer she left it, she made good progress but whoever had caused the disturbance must have been running on fumes by now as even she could barely feel it. Those clowns the Brotherhood of Sorcerers would send would be returning home disappointed she thought with a self-satisfied smile.

Soon however she found the smile running away from her face as she found herself unable to track the magical residue any further. She had woken up and rushed to get dressed to find the source of this disturbance only to have wasted a good night's sleep in pursuit of something that eluded her. She looked at St Gregory's bridge in front of her and the Passiflora to her right and scowled before conjuring a portal and stepping through to hopefully salvage her nights rest. What a waste of a night.

One day it was entirely possible that Philippa would curse her decision to not check further but for now she was cursing the fact that she had come. Although owing to Harry's magical exhaustion she wouldn't have had much luck even if she had looked around longer.

1252

Harry did not like the orphanage, in fact he hated it, the matrons were horrible and always seemed angry at the children. Stealing was punished heavily by the matrons with a number of lashes corresponding to the severity of the crime. Harry wasn't ashamed to say that he had been on the receiving end a multitude of time and who could blame him when he and the other children were fed the disgusting slop they called food only once a day.

At the age of seven he was of a similar height to most of the other children in the orphanage which was smaller than the average child who didn't live in the orphanage because they got fed with more regularity than them. Small and with little to muscle or fat described most of the children in the orphanage but they all made do, it was better than nothing.

Harry looked out at the street and watched the men and women and even the odd child walk past. He leaned against the cold stone wall of the orphanage and sank deeply into thought. Unfortunately he had barely been there for a minute before he was disturbed.

"Harry, come here you fool child" Harry looked around to see the head matron; a miserable shrew who seemed to delight in punishing the children. He pushed off the wall and strode towards her before stopping short and looking up to meet her eyes.

"Yes madam", that had been drilled into him by the matrons, always address them as such and be respectful although the older he got the more he began to wonder why they deserved his respect. The matron's face twisted into a scowl.

"Torvir tells me you convinced him that Gerd took his rabbits foot. Recommended that he go and take it back off him and give him a punch. Is that right, did you set young Torvir on Gerd?" It was and the matron probably knew that but Harry couldn't force himself to feel ashamed, Gerd was a bully who was always trying to steal Harry's food as well as the other children's. He was 10 nearly old enough to be turned out onto the streets but he still had a few weeks left, weeks which he seemed to be becoming increasingly insufferable to the other children. Torvir on the other hand was a rather thick headed boy who only cared about his rabbit's foot and would become extremely agitated without it, a gift from one of his parents Harry believed. Anyway Harry thought that stealing his rabbit's foot and dumping it on Gerd would result in a fight and both being on a tighter leash and Gerd stopping stealing until he was kicked out. Unfortunately he hadn't anticipated Torvir telling on him, an oversight on his part. Oh well, live and learn.

"Yes madam I did" he replied solemnly, he knew she had already made up her mind and lying would only make his punishment worse. She seemed to almost smile at that Harry thought as his face slowly shifted from the innocent countenance he had earlier worn to a scowl.

"Well then, ten lashes for you, can't be behaving like that Harry." Harry groaned aloud and the matron put on a nasty smile "actually now that I think about it make that fifteen, you should be accepting of your punishment Harry and it's not the first time you've tried something like this. Now then come along let's see to your punishment now while the memory is fresh" she turned away and walked back into the orphanage door creaking as she pushed it open. Harry's eyes narrowed and his fist clenched but he dutifully followed her because doing otherwise would result in a worse punishment.

Harry's eyes watered and he his face was red with effort to not cry out in pain. The madam enjoyed this, her favourite part of the job and Harry was determined not to allow her the satisfaction of seeing him cry. Unfortunately however regardless of how this life might have toughened him up he was still only seven and on the fifth lash he let out tears and on the eighth he was properly crying. He tried to distract himself and soon found himself focusing on the beam of wood that he held onto while receiving his lashes. It wasn't much but it worked, along with the crying and he nearly sagged with relief when the fifteenth and final lash landed. He sank to the floor and leant against the wood and the madam left without a further word, probably disappointed that she had reached fifteen so quickly. He lay there for an hour or so and all the while his thoughts were that anywhere would be better than this even the streets. At least they didn't get beaten and he would be able to get food, Novigrad was a big city and he was fast, probably the fastest child in the orphanage. Stealing would be no problem for him.

He slowly rose to his feet and walked out being gentle with his movement because his back really hurt at the moment. He had heard tales of a man who hired children and had them stealing things for him in exchange for a bed and food. Apparently he had taken to calling himself King of Beggars, new to the scene but already causing a ruckus. Perhaps Harry would do better there than in the orphanage after all Harry was sure the King of Beggars didn't beat his thieves. Perhaps one day Harry thought as he slowly sank down into his bed which consisted of a straw pillow and a grain sack and the blanket that had arrived with him all those years ago. He settled down lying on his side and soon drifted off to sleep while dreaming of a future away from the orphanage.

1252 June

Four months. Four months was how much longer Harry had managed to hold out at Saint Gregory's orphanage but with each passing week he had slowly grown more and more disillusioned with the orphanage and started romanticising life on the street as a thief. Many thieves were treated with respect once they gained a certain level of status and it was this status that he hoped to attain. Status and power enough that he would never again be subject to another beating like the head matron delivered.

So with this in mind one night when the matrons slept and the moon was half visible he packed up his meagre possessions and left. His blanket being his main possession.

The first few days Harry found strangely liberating despite the stares of disgust often aimed at him, he was able to steal food and drinking water was easy considering how many communal wells there were. Sleeping did prove a challenge though as for all the orphanages faults it did have four walls and a roof. The first few nights he spent with small groups of beggars who seemed slightly sympathetic to his plight but did little more to help than offer fire and a place to sleep.

He had made no progress on finding the King of Beggars and everyone laughed him off when he asked, something Harry was getting increasingly annoyed with, he thought people like him were supposed to work for him.

Harry got up for the morning and headed off in the direction of the fish market just off of Hierarch square normally merchants had other goods such as fruit and vegetables (of varying states of edibility it must be said). The ground was muddy and puddles littered the ground all over the city except in the wealthier districts where they had elected to spend the money on cobblestone paths.

The pickings seemed pretty good today Harry thought with some happiness, market day. Everybody came on this day, that was something Harry was learning, rather than just the usual merchants who sold a barebones stock every day. He looked around and tried to figure out who was selling what and where the guards were stationed.

He thought after a couple of minutes that he had looked enough after all he was hungry and food went missing every hour of every day in Novigrad. He had picked his target, a fruit vendor who had some of the most delicious looking apples Harry had ever seen, his stomach rumbled. Yes, definitely apples. He had no use for meat or fish after all he couldn't cook but maybe if he found some good company who could cook he could share with them and use their fire. Bread too he thought as he smelt a whiff of fresh bread arriving.

With that in mind he over the course of a few hours and with careful consideration managed to steal two apples and a roll of bread and even a sweet bun. That being dealt with for the day he slunk off into the city and ate his meal away from other people who might try to steal his hard earned food. This wasn't so bad Harry thought as he ate his food, he just needed to find the King of Beggars and from there it would be an easy road to the top. This was becoming fun Harry thought.

1252 1 month later

Dare he say it but perhaps and this pained Harry to say it, perhaps he had spoken too soon. He was quickly discovered that no it was not as fun as he first though and was slowly becoming awful. He had no bed, hadn't washed in a week now and his clothes even longer, and was cold every night despite it being summer. Also despite his first few days going fairly well it seemed like his free trial of being a thief had run out and he now had to pay in full. Multiple times now people had taken his stolen food, mostly other orphans or thieves and should he have made any money from begging on that day it was stolen. He had now resorted to storing his money in his shoes and socks both of which were soaked from walking the wet streets, oh and to top it all off he still hadn't found the King of Beggars.

Not even two weeks ago Harry had tried to return to the orphanage but they had told him decisively no and that once you leave you can't come back. His bed had also been filled as well he thought with a sour face as he swung his legs while sitting on a bench in Hierarch Square.

As frustrated and annoyed as he was it was no mistake that he made a mistake at some point and soon found himself running from the city guard as he had been spotted while stealing another apple. He legs small but fast carried him towards the Bits an area of the city he was starting to know with increasing knowledge and an area he thought he could lose them.

He dodged in and out of the crowds of people in his way as he fled in the direction of a little cul-de-sac with a wall he was sure he could scale much faster than the city guards in their heavy plate mail. He tore round the corner into the dead end street panting and drawing in heavy intakes of air.

He stopped dead as he saw a group of men bandits perhaps, all definitely adults leaning against a wall chatting. They wore grey clothes and had bandanas covering their faces and all looked dirty and grimy as if they like Harry hadn't washed for a while. They looked up at him with little interest and then resumed talking amongst themselves.

"OUT OF THE WAY" came a scream from not too far away as the guards closed in on Harry. That startled Harry out of his stupor and he ran towards the wall and started climbing, he had gotten good at climbing recently and this wall was no real challenge to get over. His fingers had just touched the top of the wall before a large hand grasped his neck and pulled him down. Harry wriggled like an eel but the grip held tight. Harry felt all fight drain out of him. He was going to prison that was not good, not good at all. "There he is, that thief, gave us quite the run around." Harry looked around in shock the guard hadn't caught him it was the bandit looking individual. "You can release him now, we've got the little blighter" the guard said sounding inordinately pleased.

The bandit like individual reached into his pocket and counted out twenty coins and handed them to the guard "You can go now, the King of Beggars send his regards." The guard's eyes widened and he nodded before speeding out of the dead end street while looking at the coin in his hands.

"Thank you sir, thank you very much" Harry said gratefully as the hand holding him released him and he slumped against the wall. "I've no idea what I would have done if they'd caught me".

"Tell ye what lad, way I see's I just got you out o' trouble would you agree with that?" Harry nodded at that, yes without this man he may be in prison. Maybe, Harry didn't know but he'd gotten the guard off his back even if Harry felt he could have done it himself. "And ye see the twenty crowns I gave to that guard?" Harry nodded one again a little less enthusiastically this time.

"What do you want?" The bandit gave a laugh at that, not many spoke back to him like that, certainly not many children.

"What I want is to give you some work for me in order to pay me back, understand? Now lad what's your name?"

"Harry"

"Right then Harry you can call me sir, but all the other whoresons in this city call me the King of Beggars" Harry's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, he had by complete accident struck gold. "You're going to be one of my hard working street clerks, what do you say to that?" It sounded pretty good to Harry if he was being honest with himself but he did need to know two extremely important things.

"Will I get a bed and also fed" the questions were asked with more seriousness then most 7 year olds could muster but even still it was hard for the Beggar King or his flunkies to take him seriously.

"Aye you will. People like me a moving up in the world and we reward those who work hard and loyally, understand lad?" A nod. "Right then let's go, I'll have someone show you the ropes and then tell you what you got to do." With that said he strode off and Harry sped up his pace to not get lost. Perhaps things were indeed good and looking up.

1 Week Later

Harry rolled around on his bed and looked up to the ceiling shielding his eyes as the sun streamed in through the holes in the walls. His bed wasn't in truth much better than the one at the orphanage and there were plenty of orphans like him sleeping here, like at the orphanage yet somehow the place seemed completely different. Perhaps it was the sense of purpose that he woke up to every morning as he left to steal and pick pocket, the second of which he was still far from acceptable in.

Shaking off the haze of sleep and slowly getting out from his meagre bed he began to dress in preparation for the day's work. Once dressed he walked out of the little shack that the Beggar King or as Harry had heard him called Francis Bedlam, used to shelter his 'hard working street clerks'. The shack sat in the centre of the King of Beggars unofficial fiefdom, Putrid Grove. Harry thought the name rather unrepresentative because it was no grimier than anywhere else in the poorer side of the city and if the name was supposed to refer to the residents than they'd obviously never been here. The thieves and orphans and even the thugs seemed to have some sort of kinship or at least a mote of respect. After all they were all in the same boat near enough, poor and wanting to change that the only way they knew how.

He strode off in the direction of towards the exit which at the moment was open to the city but there had been talks Harry heard of closing it and making it exclusive to those in the service of the Beggar King. Regardless that was probably a way off and at the moment no one in Putrid Grove was powerful enough to shield Putrid Grove from the scrutiny of the rest of the city.

There was a number of people off to the side on the way out, strumpets, children who weren't proper thieves yet and muscle who kept order when they weren't drinking or playing cards.

The streets were busy as always, not that he expected anything else in a bustling city with a population of over thirty thousand. Capital of the world they called it. Size worked in favour of thieves though, no one noticed if a few things went missing and guards could be paid off. Anyway he needed to get to work and make some money.

10 Hours later

No money Harry thought with a grin but he had gotten something much better as he ran towards the Beggar Kings abode. Guards seemed to be awfully loose lipped in this city if they believed that no one was listening. It was as if by magic, he had been internally bemoaning his awful attempts at being a beggar which were so pitiful as to inspire in people the opposite of pity, he had been wishing that something would go right before suddenly some guards in a side alley caught his attention. One stuttered and seemed to restart as if he had been put to sleep and was waking again before turning to the other and exclaiming "Shite, we should be getting back to the barracks, me and you have a convoy tonight and I want to get to sleep before that shite show."

"Right you are, look like you need it, the fuck were you thinking about there, you're eyes went glazed, thought a witch had worked her magic on you." He guard looked concerned for his friend but his doubt was quickly assuaged.

"Nay. Nay I was just thinking of getting something to eat. This convoy is going to be murder tonight, I could be at the whore house but instead me and you have to collect a chest of crowns from that whoreson Alonso. What's he even giving the captain those crowns for." The other guard looked at him like he was stupid and Harry couldn't help but agree with that thought, the only reason that would be happening was if it was a bribe.

"You sure your mum didn't drop you on your head, serious question." He asked with a grin as the other one scowled and punched him in the arm which considering his gauntleted fist probably hurt quite a bit, oh and the guards yelp of pain probably helped with that assessment. "You bastard, that's gonna leave a bruise."

"Go pay a whore to kiss it better and remember Hierarch square at midnight, don't be late and I'll sort out the wagon and horse." With that said they both peeled off in different direction, one presumably to the barracks and the other the whorehouse. Harry got up from his hiding place again a low wall and scampered back.

That was how he found himself running up to the King of Beggars hideout and knocking frantically before barrelling in.

"What are you doin' in here, I didn't ask for you" that was the Beggar King in his normal tone and with the derision he normally seemed to have in his tone for the orphans he housed and fed.

"Sorry sir but I got some information you might like to hear", the Beggar King quirked his eyebrows before nodding for him to go ahead. He relayed everything he heard and by the end of it he was deep in thought weighing everything up.

"Ploughin' hell what are the odds eh" he said breaking the silence, "been here a week and you've already found something useful. A chest requiring a wagon and horse must be some bribe from Wiley."

"So what is it a payment for the year or something then?" Harry asked quizzically, the Beggar King looked back at him with a strange look.

"Smart one aren't you eh, most would have asked for their gold and sodded off by now but not you. Ah that reminds me what is it you want then for having brought me this information. Money, a better bed, clothes?" Harry looked hard into his eyes before replying.

"I want to learn to read" that got laughter from everyone in the room apart from the Beggar King who looked interested by that.

"What d'ya want that for boy plan to become a ploughin' author" one of the henchmen lurking in the back said with a laugh. The King of Beggars turned to him with anger which actually surprised him.

"Right, you" he said pointing a finger at the man who had just spoken" get out and go take a fucking walk, the boy wants to learn to read and learn to read he shall. Provided he isn't a complete idiot." The thug shot a dark look at Harry in what he probably thought was a discreet way but everyone noticed. Harry didn't care though, he met his stare and was internally jumping for joy, he was going to learn to read, a small step on his journey to respect and power but it would open up many opportunities. Perhaps he thought with childish glee that he and the Beggar King could work together like partners when he became a higher up like him.

"Thank you sir" Harry said hoping to convey how grateful he was without making himself look stupid or overly expressive. "What will you do with the money then?" he asked curiously. That earned him a look of annoyance from the King of Beggars.

"As far as you're concerned it's none of your business alright and you'd do well to forget about this chest of money. Harry was it?" a nod "right then Harry as far as everyone in this room is concerned they've already forgotten about this chest and you should too. Got it? Don't speak about the fucking chest of money." Harry nodded again more eagerly this time.

"What chest" he said with a grin.

"That's the spirit, now get back to your bed Harry, oh and you'll come here every third night to learn to read from now on." Harry nodded eagerly and walked out of the room taking all the control he had not to jump and whoop in glee. He couldn't believe he had ever doubted the wisdom of leaving the orphanage.

1252 August 16th

It had been a number of weeks since that incident and while nothing of that scale had happened again yet he was still doing pretty well, he had studied a little bit from other beggars and had managed to craft a façade that actually made people feel sorry for him and occasionally give him some beggar's alms. Also he had become better at thieving which was something he took pride in, he had even managed to pickpocket someone a few days ago, a skill which was particularly difficult to manage in a city where everyone checked their purse strings after being bumped into.

Also he had recently heard that one of Alonso Wiley's transport convoys had been robbed but from what he had heard on the street no one seemed to know who it was. Harry was pretty sure that the King of Beggars had been the one responsible for the theft but he couldn't prove that and had no desire to as the man had been good to him so far. In the last week or so Putrid Grove had been done up a bit and a gate had been added to the entrance and you now needed a password to enter, something Harry was pretty sure was the result of Alonso Wiley's money. It wasn't something he dwelt upon often as he doubted it would ever come up again, Alonso would slowly loosen his search for his missing crowns and people would forget it had happened in a few months or so. At least that's what Harry hoped would happen because if it didn't it was likely the King of Beggars far smaller outfit of crooks would be shattered and dispersed by Wiley.

On happier thoughts though he was learning to read now being taught by some of the smarter men that worked for the King of Beggars and he had taken to it like a duck to water something he was very pleased with. It came naturally to him and he thought a little more time and he would have it down he thought. He had also started doing basic maths something which had annoyed a couple of his 'tutors' but the King of Beggars who had been nearby had spoken up and told them to teach him. That was something that made him feel warm inside, he got the feeling that he saw some promise in him and was trying to nurture his talent which only pushed him to excel in order to please him. His lessons in numeracy had only started 3 or so sessions ago but that too was going fairly well, numbers weren't too bad and he might have a future running the books for a business if he wished it.

Regardless now was his self-appointed time off and he was going to spend it in far corners as he had heard that they usually hosted fights here something which he was eager to see. He had brought along a few crowns which perhaps he could use to bet with, he figured that it would be fairly fun and might even earn some money and well if he lost it's not like he would be losing anything he wasn't prepared to lose.

The crowd was fairly large, about fifty people give or take and they all seemed to be shouting boisterously and drinking and exchanging small sacks of coins. It looked brilliant Harry thought and pushed forward to get a better view of the fighting. Both men in the ring were of slightly larger than average height and weight and Harry thought it looked fairly even. Sadly it was over fairly quickly as one hit the ground after a hard punch to his jaw, he was a little disappointed but some other people took such a quick match much harder than others. Such as the tall elven boy who seemed to be about 12 or 13.

"That was shite" he groused "one day I'll be champion of Novigrad not these human idiots".

"Durden shut your mouth" that came from another elf who was older and taller than the young elf, probably his father he thought a little wistfully. "Show some respect to the fighters, it's rude to speak of them like that. They're fighting for our entertainment."

"Sorry father" replied the elf, Durden. That seemed to be the end of that and no one else seemed to have listened into this short exchange other than Harry. The rest of the evening proved to be good fun and there were a few more fights, Harry even made a few crowns betting even if he did get some odd looks from people.

It was with a bright smile he returned to Putrid Grove for the night to settle down for bed, but when he entered he could immediately tell something was wrong. He planned to go to his room and ask one of the other orphans but before he could get in he was grabbed by one of the King of Beggars thugs and told to follow him. When he entered the defacto headquarters he could tell it was serious, the place was filled with about 15 people and the King of Beggars of himself, all eyes turned to Harry when he entered. He felt butterflies in his stomach, had he done something wrong? These were the sorts of thoughts flying through his head as he came to a stop a few meters in front of the door.

"We can begin" that was the King of Beggars and he seemed even more curt and to the point now than Harry had ever seen him. He reached down beside him and picked up a bag which dripped red fluid from it. He tossed it to Harry who caught it with shaky hands. "Open it" and he did and what he saw made him feel sick to his stomach, a real human head. Eyes wide open and bloodshot, face morphed in an expression of terror. He threw up all over the floor and his shoes. He collapsed to his knees and dry heaved. It took him a minute or so to regain some semblance of composure and he pushed the head away from him as it rolled on the floor settled at a henchman's feet. "That's one of my men, we received this from old Alonso Wiley this afternoon. He found out about the chest and he wants his money back." He looked down at Harry who was still resting on his knees near a pile of his own sick. "You understand how serious this is?" Harry nodded.

"Yes sir" re rasped out, his voice dry and he could taste how horrible his breath was right now. "But what does this have to do with me?"

"Someone in this room told Wiley about the chest and now a good man is dead because of that. Did you tell anyone of the chest Harry." He shook his fervently.

"No, no I never. I haven't talked about it since I told you about it, I promise you sir."

"You're ambitious Harry, I know that, wanting to learn to read, learn numbers. Probably imagine yourself in a position like mine someday, that right? Is that what Alonso promised you?" He looked dead serious now and Harry was starting to panic again his shirt feeling tighter than ever around him, like a straight jacket.

"Sir I promise, I swear I never told anyone you've got to believe me." It didn't seem to sway anyone though and impassive looks were all he could see directed at him.

"See I've been told that you were seen in Wiley's district. Makes it quite hard to believe what you say don't you think."

"Lies, I never went near that area of the city. Whoever told you that is a lying bastard." The King turned to another man who Harry recognised, the one who had laughed at him and made a comment when he said he wanted to learn to read.

"What do you say to that Hank, the boy says you're lying and I've no way to prove it either way. So here's what I'm going to do, I'm going to order both your rooms searched and we'll see what we find eh." That sounded fair to Harry and he slowly rose to his feet careful not to get any sick on him as that would be most unpleasant. "You two" he said pointing at two thugs to the right of Harry, "go search their rooms and report back to me." They left swiftly and the one called Hank turned to the King of Beggars.

"We really need to do this? It's obvious it was the boy, just kill him and be done with it."

"The evidence will speak for itself and if it doesn't then you're both going out onto the streets." Harry swallowed and so did Hank, droplets of sweat could be seen forming on his forehead. The King of Beggars tuned to Harry and looked down at the pile of sick "clean that up while we wait eh? It starting to stink and you" he said pointing to another henchman on the side "take that head and go bury it or burn it, I don't care which I just want it out of here. Everyone else stay here, while we wait for those two log heads to come back." That got a few chuckles from some people and also signalled the start of a fairly long and uncomfortable wait for Harry. He cleaned his mess of the floor and then slumped against the wall whilst sat in waiting. About an hour later they burst in solemn looks on their faces.

"Well who done it?" That was one of the henchmen off to the side. They looked at the King of Beggars for permission who gave a nod before they finally spoke.

"We found fuck all in the boys room, but we found this sack of coin in Hanks room" he produced a fairly fat sack of coin and chucked it to the King of Beggars who caught it and started pacing the room in consternation.

"You guard this place Hank, what the fuck are you doing holding a sack of coin this big, know what forget I already know the answer." Hank by this point look petrified but remained silent "You two hold him" two men on either side of him grabbed onto his arms and held him steadily in place, it was at this point that he broke into begging for his life.

"Please, I know what I done was wrong but I had no idea that he would kill someone for it. Please let me go I'll do anything, I'll work for free; I'll earn more money than anyone else. Just please for the love of Melitele give me another chance." He was snivelling by this point and fat tear drops were streaming down his face.

"Hank I've already given you a chance you filthy fucking rat" this was the first time Harry had seen him lose his temper and he could see why people didn't mess with him. He pulled out a dagger and plunged it into his heart before leaving it there. He gasped and tried to shake off the two men but he was weak and his lifeblood was slowly draining away, soaking his clothes. He was dead in seconds. "You two take this body and dump it tonight, and bring back my ploughing dagger and don't drip any blood on this floor, it'd be murder to get it out of this wood." He turned to Harry and looked down at him. "Seems your name has been cleared doesn't it. Just remember that this is what happens to the imbeciles that cross me, remember that and we'll be fine." Harry nodded still shocked at what had happened. "Now get out of here and get to ploughing bed, oh and take this. For your troubles" he tossed Harry the sack of coin which he caught and muttered a quick thank you. He turned towards the door but stopped before walking through as he thought up a question he thought might be a little bit important to him.

"What's going to happen with Wiley?"

"We come to terms with him, pay him back his money that's what." Harry nodded at that before leaving tired and shaken by that experience. He left the building less innocent than when he entered and he couldn't say that he was happy about that. Hopefully the sick feeling he had would disappear after a good nights sleep. Only one way to find out, he thought as he slipped the coin under his pillow and rearranged his ruffled up bed. Sleep now thoughts later.