There is one power that is to be feared and respected above all others. One power that turns the tides of battle, and enlightens passion in a simple man.

Harry Potter wanted out of his cupboard. He wanted away from the Dursleys. He wanted to be gone. He imagined another place, where it was the opposite of his relatives. There wouldn't be anything normal. There would be all kinds of things, things he couldn't dream of, and his Uncle and Aunt would never even consider to have existed.

The daydream grew stronger. In this place, there would be people in danger, because Harry wasn't innocent enough to believe that people would ever be universally kind, but there would be people to save them. It would be their job, even! What's more, is they would be really strong, and cool, and they would have swords, and... magic.

Harry wasn't allowed to speak of magic, so this world where the Dursleys couldn't even comprehend? It would be magic.

The last thing Harry imagined before he started to grow weary was a woman. She had hair just like his, and their faces even looked kind of alike, except this woman was everything he wanted to be. She was bold, sarcastic, unafraid, unrepentant, unbowed. Magic. Powerful. Driven to the ends of the earth. But for some reason, Harry thought, she had purple eyes instead of green.

~Line Break~

When Harry woke up, he didn't feel like he actually had. Where he had laid down on an old mattress in the broom cupboard that he spent most of his life, now he was sitting up from a stone floor. Candles were all that illuminated the room, and Harry frowned in thought.

Why was it that a stone floor was more comfortable than his mattress?

A door opened abruptly. "And I'm telling you, Geralt! I don't want to get into this right now, especially in this place. But of course they'd be eavesdropping."

"Hm. When'd you get a kid?" A deep growling voice asked.

"A kid?" The woman's voice asked. "What are you saying?"

Another door opened, and two adults found themselves meeting eyes with a small child.

"He sure looks like one of yours. And here I thought we were both sterile." The man growled again. Harry got the impression that was just his voice, as he looked amused if anything.

"How did you enter my chambers, child?" The woman asked sharply.

Harry recognized her, to his confusion, but he decided to answer in case she got angry before he had a chance.

"I woke up here." He answered honestly.

The woman waved her hand, lights twinkling from her fingers as she frowned in thought.

"He's got magic. Strong for a child."

"There's no scent of him anywhere else. He didn't come through the door." The man supplied. He had white hair and slitted yellow eyes.

"Teleportation is a fairly simple magic by most standards, but even then, it should be beyond a child. Especially to somewhere he's never been."

Harry felt his happiness growjust looking at the woman. She was exactly what he'd been thinking of. Could this place be like he was thinking of too?

"Maybe we should see about getting him back to his home." the man suggested.

Neither of them were prepared for the books and papers to suddenly whip around the room as an unnatural wind spiralled around the boy. "I'm not going back there." Harry declared fiercely.

His green eyes practically shone in the dim firelight. No, Yennefer reconsidered. His eyes were actually glowing.

"Alright kid. We won't take you back to wherever it is that made you want to react that strongly. But do you have any place to go?" Geralt asked.

"I want him." Yennefer declared. "That was delightful. And just think of the color coordination when we recover Ciri!"

Now Harry was positive that the white haired man was amused. That was almost a smile.

"Well, I'm sure you could do a decent job. Especially with a child sorceror." Geralt mused dryly.

"Of course I can. I'm me."

~Line Break~

Harry learned a lot about magic. Magic was almost a science, and yet you had to account for beliefs too. If people, even people without any magic of their own, believed something, then it would likely be true. Particularly if a lot of people believe it.

An example would be werewolves. As far as Harry could tell, they had started out as litte more than cursed people that had turned bestial with the phases of the moon, and were always hungry, but belief had made them weak to silver. Another example was old artifacts. Some treasured artifacts derived their power straight from their legend, and were nothing without them.

A case of someone starting a rumor that they had created something great, and enough people believing it that it became true.

What's more, is what he learned otherwise. Stories, myths, languages, and the 5 signs that Witchers used. They were a simple string of spells, and very useful, if basic and weak compared to the magic of sorceresses.

Geralt and Yennefer recovered Ciri from a group known as the Wild Hunt. Harry never learned much about them. None of those three liked to talk about it, and Harry didn't need to worry about the dead.

Speaking of the dead, Harry glanced at the glasses on a mannequin head. Yen had found a soul leech in his scar and removed it. The result had been an influx of even greater magic, and his renewed eyesight. He kept the spectacles as a trophy of sorts.

For the first time in his memory, he was happy.

He settled into a soft bed, though Yen always complained that they were little more than hay and stone. Exaggerating, as always.

A smile settled on his face as he fell asleep.

He woke up in hell.