Draft - HP x LoZ Prologue

<sup>Title: Undecided
Chapter Title: Unknown / Prologue

Crossover, Harry Potter (Post-DH) x The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Test-Draft, Indecisive Prologue

Might be moved to scraps. This is not yet a solid project.</sup>

These were the times when Harry really hated his trademark heroics.

He'd had his Gryffindor chivalry called on him several times in the past. His Potions professor had certainly cursed his antics quite a lot when he was in school, and even his own Head of House would purse her lips at his most reckless actions. It had been the reason why Minister Shacklebolt had accepted him as an Auror-trainee so quickly, overlooking the year off-school he'd taken to chase a Dark Lord. His trainer in the Auror studies had cursed him nearly as much as his Potions Teacher had for it, as well, but he would also compliment that same trait as something every Auror should 'have a bit of'. The Wizarding World at wide took his heroics for granted. He'd learned to accept that.

The young hero in question was currently running through a narrow hallway, dodging hex after hex with ease just because his attacker was not as interested in fighting him as he was with escaping.

Now, ever since Harry had become an official Auror, many of his jobs had been very simple: there were simply too many criminals who feared the Light Wizard who had defeated the last Dark Lord. Many of them fled at the sight of him, even if they were not doing anything incriminatory. Some others gave up, assuming that if Harry Potter himself had been sent after them, then they were knee-deep in the mud already, and there was no sense fighting law. Only in these cases did Harry ever appreciate his long-lasting fame.

But this man was not like that. He probably didn't even know Harry (who wasn't nearly the best Auror out there) was after him. He just knew that he had half the Auror Department chasing after him, and that was a far more legitimate reason to panic. After all, not only had he been caught stealing in the Ministry, but he had also managed to get himself cornered in the most confusing of all the departments.

The hooded wizard kept throwing random exes over his shoulder as he ran, head whipping around constantly to look for a possible escape-route. It was no use, though: there would be Aurors guarding the elevators and fireplaces, while Harry and two more were on his tail. He had chosen a bad day to come to the Ministry: not many Aurors had been out of the Ministry during the theft. And to top it all, the man was very obviously lost.

Harry felt a bit of pity for the man. He had been in a similar situation just a couple years ago. But the memories were not fond ones, much less amusing ones, and only urged Harry to get this done with faster.

The less time he spent in the Department of Mysteries, the better.

Another spell flew over his shoulder, and he heard a startled cry signaling one of his comrades had been hit. In one swift motion, Harry took aim with his wand once more and cried, "Expelliarmus!"

He missed his target for less than an inch, all due to a dumb-lucked stumble, and Harry tried once more with a full-body bind. The wizard had been tipped off by the first hex, though, and managed to throw himself in the opposite direction, Harry's newest spell flying past him and exploded in bright sparks on the wall.

"Potter, either hit your mark or get out of the way!" Auror Mason barked behind him. Harry supposed that his dodging made it pretty hard for his mentor to get a clear sight himself. In all honesty, it was not Harry's fault if he ran faster than the old man. Mason was no Madeye Moody: he had all of his limbs, and he wasn't really that old compared to other senior Aurors. But Harry retained a Seeker's slim build and was quick on his feet, so he had an advantage.

"Sorry!" he yelled back curtly. He wasn't precisely in a good mood today, and every moment in this Department made things worse. Ever since he began working in the Ministry and gotten Sirius' name cleared, he'd made a point of avoiding the Department of Mysteries and the Unspeakables.

He halted completely, nearly stumbling over his own feet, and quickly cast Protego to deflect a bright jet of light he'd have no time to dodge. When the shield charm proved useful against it, Harry kept running, only to see the criminal slipping into a door at the end of the hallway. When he followed the man through it, he found he was in a very familiar place. He didn't look at the clocks, though, nor the bell jar: he kept his eyes trained on the escapee.

"Stop!" he called, even when he knew It was useless. It was at the point when the man was on the other side of the room and Harry just halfway through it that he finally turned around to aim. Unfortunately, Harry could not make out the face under the cloak.

"¡Crucio!"

Harry did a quick drop-and-roll, and suddenly felt incensed. This guy wasn't making his job any easier, and everything just stunk of the last time he was here. He would finish this now.

"Potter, no!"

"Stupefy!" he cried as soon as the world had straightened around him, and a red jet of light flew forth from the tip of his wand...

...finally hit the mark...

...and sent the man flying backwards due to the sheer force of the spell, right against the various hourglasses lined up on the wall.

Apparently, the glass of the hourglasses was as fragile as it seemed, and not charmed against dark wizards slamming into it.

He only had a split-second after Mason's warning cry before the explosion hit his body. A blinding bright light forced him to squeeze his eyes shut just as a boiling hot rush of sand hit his body. He brought his arms up instinctively to protect his face, but he could still feel the sting of the sharp wind on his face.

The sensations shifted, though, and he noticed was that it was painful, much more than before. It felt as though a strong wave of magic was squeezing him hard, trying to compress him to a size a hundredth his own. It was even worse than Apparating or using a Portkey, because those at least didn't hurt this much, and the pressure would let up after the split seconds said transportation methods required. It was not as bad as Cruciatus, no, but it lasted far longer than any time Harry had spent under the Unforgivable.

The only things Harry was aware of was how much his body hurt, and the fact that he was still gripping his wand tightly. He was also aware of his own magic pushing against the barrier of his skin, fighting against the much larger torrent of unknown magic around him. It was an alien feeling to him, and he had never been so aware of his own magic before. It was like he could feel it in his bloodstream, flowing along with his blood all through his body. It wasn't a painful sensation, but it wasn't exactly pleasant either.

He tried to focus on something else then, focus on the feeling of the wood against his fingers instead of the agony screaming in his body or the magic pulsing through his veins.

He was pretty certain he would die there and then, in an accidental magical explosion caused b y the hourglasses of the Time Room. With his luck, he had just created a never-ending vortex of light and sand, and could only hope he'd been the only one caught in it. It would surely be a very good tale: Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, killed by a bunch of clocks while chasing a cornered criminal. What a happy thought.

He was brought out of his mind when all pressure around him eased. He opened eyes to black spots swimming in his vision, and saw himself facing a vast blue sky.

It was a second later he realized he was falling, and gaining speed rapidly. And when he realized this, instead of freaking out (he'd fallen off his broom plenty of times during his Hogwarts years), he allowed his Auror training to kick in.

He twisted his body in the air, flicking a wand between numbed fingers, the cushioning spell on the tip of his tongue.

It was then that he realized just how close he'd been to a pile of a golden, hairy something.

There was a startled cry and loud neighing. All around him, prickling his skin, foul-smelling grass, not hair,  pressed against him. The ground shook under him for a few seconds, and suddenly came to a stop.

It was then that Harry Potter overcame the lingering ache in his body and pulled his head out of the lump of hay he had landed on. His breath caught in his throat and sent him into a small coughing fit, which in turn had him spluttering since his sucked breaths only managed to pull hay into his mouth and nostrils. Shakily, his free hand reached out, looking to support himself on something. He found a wooden ledge to which he held on tightly, taking a few seconds to try and catch breath he hadn't realized he was missing.

I didn't hit myself hard enough to be this winded, Harry thought in a mild scolding tone.

"Easy there, young man," a sympathetic voice called, in time with a few vigorous pats to his back.

Harry rose his eyes, and found a middle-aged woman of strong complexion and tanned skin looking at him with a smile on her face.

Apparently Harry had just landed on her hay cart, and had startled the horses badly, if their unstopped shifting was anything to go by. Just a feet or two in any other direction, and he would have encountered rough dirt floor instead.

"I'm—" another small round of coughing kept him quiet, but he managed to seat himself against the wooden ledge of the carriage by the time this one passed. The woman kept that easy-going, kind expression directed at him, and Harry could feel his cheeks heat up a little. He really disliked looking helpless in front of strangers. He cleared his throat, made sure his lungs were working again, and continued, "I'm sorry for landing so roughly on your cart, Ma'am."

Her eyebrows rose in an amused way, and her smile widened.

"No problem, young man." Harry offered a sheepish smile, and allowed his eyes to wander to what surrounded them.

He was taken back by all the green he saw. The closest thing to the endless green fields surrounding him then and there was Hogwarts. He had almost never been out of the urban areas of the wizarding and Muggle world, so he had never been to this sort of place before. It looked strangely peaceful, like something taken out of a fairy tale. There was even an old dirt road stretching before and behind them, though the cart was a bit askew on it. Trees spread throughout the land, and several mountains stretched far beyond the horizon. The air was so fresh, it was no wonder Harry had coughed so much with his first breath... Even air-cleaning charms couldn't get air this pure in the cities.

Harry's eyes traced the mountains, trying to find some landmark he could recognize... His shoulders slumped slightly when he realized he didn't have a clue where he was.

"I'd like to know just how you ended on my cart in the first place, though," the woman's voice drifted to him, and he turned to face her once more. She had turned her back to him in favor of leaning forward, nudging the horses' reins softly. Both large animals bristled a little, but began walking at a slow pace. "It would seem like you appeared out of thin air!"

Harry bit his tongue to avoid giving the first answer that came to his head. "Eh, you could say that."

The woman merely laughed at his reply. Did that mean she was familiar with people appearing out of thin air? Or was she simply too laid-back to worry about a man climbing or otherwise mysteriously appearing atop her cart?

His eyes darted over her clothes and odd hairdo. They certainly didn't look Muggle... but then, he didn't know where he was. Maybe that was the fashion here. He didn't have a clue where this was... but the woman spoke English, so that ought to be a good sign, right?

Harry groaned, running his fingers through his hair. He used the movement to slide his wand into the holster of his forearm. "Ehmm... where are you heading?" Yes, that definitely sounded better than 'where are we?'.

"I'm going to Hyrule Town, young man. Just finished some business at Kakariko. We're almost at Hyrule, but if you were headed somewhere else, you can easily find transport once we arrive to Town. Where did you want to go?"

Harry considered. He had never heard of anywhere called Hyrule, or Kakariko. But he would be the first to admit he was not big on geography, and it wouldn't be the first time someone got misplaced because of a magical accident. He was lucky enough he still had all his limbs. Since he didn't seem to be harmed, he thought the first thing he would do was try to get back to the Ministry. He didn't know how far he was from London, so it was a bad idea to Apparate. He also wasn't completely confident he hadn't been affected by the magical explosion.

"Do you know which way is London?"

The woman shook her head, a bit hesitant. "Hadn't ever heard of it."

What?

"Oh... Well... Are we in Europe?"

"Pardon?"

Harry could feel a blanket of cold wrap over him. This... this was not good... The explosion had been caused by hourglasses. Timeturners, perhaps...?

"What year is it?"

That earned him a mildly worried look from the woman driving the cart, but she replied without commenting on it. Harry frowned. The date was off for a few digits, yes, but certainly not enough for Europe not to exist...

"Are you feeling okay? Maybe you should rest a bit until we get to town," the woman offered, bringing his attention back to her.

This time, he noticed the weird shape of her ears, and couldn't help but stare. Fortunately, she was facing the road, and didn't notice the weird looks she was getting. Harry had to bite down on his tongue once more to keep from asking.

"Y-yeah... I think I hit my head harder than I thought. I'll just rest for a bit if it's okay..."

The woman gave him her approval, and he slid a bit into the fluffy, prickling hay around him, ignoring the smell in favor of thinking of this new situation. For all he knew, everyone here had ears shaped like that, and he was the weird one out with his small, round ears. It seemed this would be a lot more complicated than just finding out if he was among muggles or wizards. The last thing on his mind right then was to find out if the Ministry thief had survived the explosion as well. The main question in his mind right then was...

Where the hell was he?