Disclaimer: I do not own HP or the Witcher. Rights go to the respective publishers/authors etc.

*Takes place in the timeline of the Witcher novels. I.e- Before the first game. Just a sidenote for the people who've only played the games that may be confused.*

Prologue

Harry seriously hated himself.

How did he find himself in situations like this? Ever since he'd turned eleven his life had just become a series of disturbing and dangerous encounters with things that progressively got worse up the scale.

Quirrel in the first year had been a pushover really…all he'd really done was touch the fool. Then the basilisk, the dementors, the fucking dragon, Voldemort, dementors, Death Eaters, Voldemort again…well…

And now here he was, being attacked by…he had no idea what that thing was but yeah, here he was fighting for his life after having just escaped with it just moments ago.

The terrifying sound the thing made him realize just how screwed he was as he slowly backed up, sweat dripping down his face as he stared at it. The dam thing screamed again…the force of it shaking the walls. The disproportionately large head surrounded by curly red hair, glowing eyes…it suddenly opened its jaw revealing rows of pointed teeth before snapping it shut.

He'd never seen anything like it…his spells were utterly useless. Not that he could even think of casting any now, he'd lost his wand somewhere in the darkness behind him.

The walls around him made him think he was in some kind of crypt, there was a coffin somewhere in the corner that he'd noticed, and probably where this thing crawled out of. But by god this was no vampire…this was something much, much worse.

All of the sudden it leapt, slashing at him with its claws. He had nowhere to run anymore so he was thrown backwards with the thing on him, ripping his chest apart with its claws. It even clamped its jaws down on his throat although thanks to a quick jerk, ended up taking just a small bite.

Pain clouded his vision as a yell tore through his lips. This was not how he wanted to die, mauled to death by some animal. With strength he didn't know he had he threw the thing off him with a roar before scrambling to his feet.

The thing growled, starting to circle around him. He backed away as best he could but out the corner of his eye he could see he was approaching a corner.

By chance he caught sight of a hint of silver as a few rays of moonlight lightened up the crypt. A sword! And it was just there behind him.

Keeping a watchful eye on the creature he backed up before picking up the weapon. It was heavy…far heavier than he'd expected in fact. Great…I can't even lift this thing to save my life.

There was one thing though that he couldn't help noticing. The creature seemed much more wary of him now despite his weak stance of holding the sword with its tip on the floor. He moved forward, just a bit and his suspicions were confirmed when it backtracked.

The thing growled again before circling again, this time to his right. That's when he realized it was moving to the direction of the hand he was bleeding from.

Clever girl…he mused silently as he tried to lift the sword off the ground. It took tremendous effort but he managed to, the blood loss certainly not helping as it was making his head spin. This was not the smartest thing he'd done as he could swear he saw a hideous grin on the thing's face as it started slinking towards him.

With another frenzied scream it suddenly bounded at him, its claw outstretched just as he raised the sword as well, a yell escaping him as he swung with all his might. He succeeded in cutting its torso but the claw's aim was far more accurate and deadly. He could only stand, unable to register what had happened before looking down to see the blood rapidly escaping his body, his stomach ripped open.

The sword fell to the floor with a clang as he slumped down as well, blood pooling in his mouth as he stared at it, hatred in his eyes. For some reason the thing wasn't coming to finish him, in fact it was acting like it was afraid of him with the defensive stance it had again.

"Dammit!" He yelled, furious at his own helplessness. The thing shook its head like a wounded animal before growling again, not at all pleased with the sound its prey was making. It leapt towards him again but this time something primal awakened in him.

His arm came up in a feeble attempt to hold it off but a blinding white light escaped him making the thing howl as if in pain.

At least he hoped it was in pain. He was well and truly spent as his arm flopped down as well, all the fight leaving him.

The fucking thing was alive and kicking. Hurt, but alive. He'd given it his all, he'd exhausted himself magically and now he was trying to hold the contents of his stomach from spilling out while lying here in a puddle of his own blood. A grim smirk tugged at his lips as he stared at the thing that was slowly approaching him.

But then there was the unmistakable cling of metal against stone. He could barely see the silver blur in which the sword dragged itself on the floor, the tip's contact with the stone floor causing sparks to fly before it connected with the thing's head, drawing blood.

He couldn't keep himself fully conscious and more times than not he wasn't sure if he was dreaming. The newcomer was keeping the thing at bay and judging by the howling, wasn't doing that badly against it.

The last thing he remembered was eerie silence. He couldn't tell how long it'd been…half the times the pain was distracting, the other he was wondering when the thing would come for him. The sounds of fighting had long since stopped but he could still hear the occasional scream that would haunt him forever time and again.

Much too tired now.

Perhaps he was dreaming but he could've sworn he heard a voice ask "You're still alive?" in mild surprise before he slipped into the blissful emptiness.

"-sure about this?"

"Nenneke would've wanted me to."

"I know but you barely have any idea who the boy is!"

Harry felt worse than he'd ever been in his life…he was delirious, thirsty, there was a stabbing pain at his midsection and he was being rocked all over the place. He couldn't even see, his glasses were gone. Everything was just so hazy.

"He's harmless."

"All the same, he was found in the crypt with that thing. I say you should've left him to die." A low rumble of laughter followed these words.

"He already died the moment he took on a striga armed with nothing but a wooden stick. Peace Dandelion, you have nothing to fear from him."

"Come on…drink." This time it was a much more welcome and comforting voice. The hand that helped him up was gentle.

He allowed the cool liquid to run down his throat, a tremendous relief flooding through him as it did as he felt the soreness of his throat fade away.

"Can you see me?" The voice decidedly belonged to a she. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting at the blurred shapes before him. He could just make out the person helping him, dressed in white and her pleasant lavender scent but apart from that he could make neither head nor tail. "Oh…dear, you're blind?"

"Can't be…" The low rumble of a voice he heard before cut in. "He didn't move like a blind man."

"I'm…not blind." His voice came out equally low. It pained him to speak. "My glasses…"

"Glasses?" The woman asked, puzzlement coloring her voice.

"My…" He looked around, barely able to make out the shapes around him. His eyesight was truly horrible without them. "My glasses, I-I had them before I…"

"I think he means these…" He reached out hopefully and heaved a sigh of relief when he felt the familiar shape in his hands. Pushing them onto his face his vision sharpened immediately, although his right eye wasn't providing as much due to the cracks. "Haven't seen too many people around with those."

The speaker was the same nasally voice from before and it belonged to a rather feeble looking man. He was a little reminded of Lockhart to be honest, minus the blonde hair everything else was there down to the winning smile…although thankfully the man in front of him didn't look as stupid.

His gaze shifted to the other two occupants in the room. The woman as he'd guessed who helped him smiled faintly when their eyes met. She was dressed in garb he'd never seen anywhere except in books before but recognized as the traditional robes usually worn by a priestess of some kind.

The other man in the room who was leaning against the wall and watching him intently was something else entirely.

White hair pulled back in a ponytail although judging by his face he looked to be somewhere in his late 30's or early 40's. Unlike the man who looked like a poet out of a Shakespearian novel, this man looked like a warrior.

The leather armor he seemed to be wearing combined with the knives strapped to his waist and legs were threatening enough, but what truly made him uneasy were those eyes…yellow eyes that could only be described as those that belonged on a cat or something akin to its nature stared back at him, narrowed menacingly as if daring him to make any sudden moves.

"Where am I?" He asked, directing his question to the woman as he tried to sit up, a hiss escaping his lips as he felt a searing pain on his stomach.

"Be still..." She said gently, putting her hand on his shoulder as she gently pushed him back down onto the mattress. "You're in the temple of Melitele. This is a holy place, no harm shall come to you."

"Melitele?" He repeated slowly. That didn't sound like any religious figure he'd heard about. "I-Where am I?" He asked again, a note of panic entering his voice. As if it wasn't bad enough being attacked by some creature and mortally wounding himself, something was telling him he was far, far away from Hogwarts.

"You're in Ellander stranger." The white haired man spoke finally, still eyeing him critically.

"El-Ellander?" He stumbled over the pronunciation, a growing sense of foreboding in him as he tried to get up again only to have the priestess stopping him.

"The Kingdom of Temeria, if you wish for specifics." The other man said slowly. "And I would advise you to stop moving about, the good woman spent the night closing that cut, do not undo her work."

"No you don't understand, I need to know where we are!" He snapped, although he heeded the warning and stopped moving about. "Am I even in England?" He was met with pure silence at this. Adding to his fear he could see no indication in their faces that they had a clue of the country he was talking about.

"Is that where you hail from?" The priestess asked gently.

"I…yes…I…" He trailed off, a sudden and very unwelcome thought occurring to him. The way these people were speaking...it couldn't be…

God he wished his head would stop spinning.

"I've never heard of a place called that…" The other man said while the white haired one watched. "I think you should lay down, get a bit more rest. The Striga's venom must be making you delirious."

"But…I need to get back." He whispered. "I need…go home.." His breathing was getting ragged and he could feel his vision going blurry again.

Not home…sleep. That was what he really wanted.

Sleep.

"The boy's a source eh?"

"I saw it with my own eyes." Geralt answered shortly. "It was magic…pure magic that stopped the Striga from killing him."

"If that's so he is dangerous Geralt…" He glanced up at the worried woman. "Unlike her you have no idea where he's from or what he was doing."

"Are you saying you don't want him here? Nenneke, tell me what it is that troubles you. I will get rid of him if that is your wish…"

She didn't answer right away, choosing instead to watch him in silence like him. The boy had been slipping in and out of consciousness for the past few days and no one had come looking for him. No soldiers had come up demanding a prisoner back…no Kings or Queens had come up demanding their heir back…There had been no one whatsoever.

The townspeople of Wyzim were aware of the boy…King Foltest and his guards had no idea who the boy was or what he'd been doing in the crypt of the princess or where he'd come from for that matter but they are aware of him. So to think someone like him would remain unspoken for was far from normal.

"We do not turn away those in need." She said firmly. "No. The boy himself is not dangerous, even if he has unsavory intentions he's in no position to cause any harm to us. What I'm worried about is what might follow him here." She looked at him. "People are talking Geralt. News will travel to the Count and he will surely send men here looking for him. And it is not always people who get involved if there's a source as a prize for the taking."

"I was planning on taking him to Kaer Morhen." He said quietly.

"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. "Can't say I'm too surprised. Why?"

"He's still alive." He offered nonchalantly. Her eyes widened at that.

"The trial of the herbs?" She asked incredulously. "You wish to subject him to that with the condition he's in?"

"He's already begun it." He said, gesturing towards him. The raven haired boy was shivering, sweating and paler than the snow, yet there was still life in him. Usually when one is marked by a Striga they do not survive for more than a few hours…let alone a full day and then some. "Unless we give him the trial, force his body to adapt to the poison spreading across his veins he will die."

"You want to save him." She murmured, her lips pursing into a frown. "Use the trial as a cure…unorthodox but…" She sighed. "There is still something that you are not telling me." It was a statement. Not a question.

He took his time before answering; "Yes." Her silence told him she was still waiting for a better answer. With a soft sigh he ploughed on. "I had a dream recently."

"When?"

"The last time I was here."

"Is it the one you did not want Iola to see?" His nod seemed to satisfy her. "What was it?"

"I saw him…him, Ciri and Yennefer." He murmured softly, his only response a sharp intake of breath. "And something else…something terrible. I can only remember the feeling…" He shook his head. "The boy is unmistakable…that scar on his forehead and the color of his eyes, I've never seen anything like that on anyone else. I recognized him the moment I found him in that crypt."

"I see…" Nenneke trailed off. "Do you think Ciri would know who he is? Or Yennefer?"

"Yennefer...I do not know." He muttered with a shrug. "But that's what I intend to find out." She nodded before getting up.

"I can procure you a carriage." She offered. "If you are to get him to Kaer Morhen alive you must leave before nightfall." He bowed his head, silently conveying his gratitude as he too got up. "Dandelion may stay here during your absence if that is his wish."

"I cannot thank you enough Nenneke." He murmured with a smile. She nodded, returning his smile before it quickly disappeared as she turned her attention to the boy who was now moaning something incomprehensible as he thrashed about in a fevered sleep.

Hurried footsteps announced the arrival of a newcomer, his eyes widening when he recognized the coppery hair that swayed gently about her face.

"Iola…" He breathed. The mute priestess smiled at him before moving towards the boy, a bowl of warm water and a piece of cloth in her arms which she set on the floor beside him before proceeding to tend to the boy.

He was surprised, she'd only ever displayed such kindness to him, someone outside of the temple. She usually avoided anyone who wasn't a priestess.

A few moments passed before Nenneke silently tapped his shoulder, beckoning him with her as they quietly left the room.

"I think I should tell you…Iola tried looking into his future." She said softly as they walked down the long corridor.

"And?" He was almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Whatever she saw frightened her…but she seems to trust him."

Harry woke to the sound of a crackling fire, his eyes opening slowly to a darkened night sky above him.

It took him a while to get used to a rather foreign feeling. He couldn't quite feel his arms or legs, there was a certain numbness that he'd never felt before but on the plus side the scorching pain he remembered from earlier was gone.

Memory of the pain triggered everything he'd remembered from before. It felt like years since he'd last seen Hogwarts. Hell, he even missed his room in privet Drive.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny…

Where was he now? Was he dead as well? He could only remember flashes…that ghastly creature from before…

What of that temple? Was he still there? As far as he could tell he was out in the open somewhere, lying on a pile of hay.

He tried to push himself up but his body was unresponsive. He couldn't even move his arms. His glasses were gone as well…as far as he could tell it was dark and he could see the orange glow which he assumed was a fire out the corner of his eye.

A sudden inhuman cry tore through the night, startling him as an involuntary gasp escaped him.

It sounded close, far too close for comfort and he didn't have his wand and he was essentially blind. Add the fact that he wasn't quite in control of his body either.

Something about his feeble attempts at movement must've alerted someone as he heard heavy footsteps approaching. He squinted but he couldn't quite see the figure approaching and could do nothing but watch helplessly as it came to a halt near him. He only saw a blurry shape of a face with ashen hair which knelt closer before his vision suddenly sharpened, allowing him to see the white haired man from before.

Only this time those eyes were far more startling than before. He'd been right initially when he thought those golden eyes looked like those of a cat's, they even seemed to glow slightly in the dark. The face that was staring at him was decidedly rugged, mature and had a long, vicious scar both above and below his left eye.

"Creatures of all manner rule the nights in these parts stranger, but you are safe here." The man said quietly. "Try not to move around much. I've given you a potion that numbs the body and slows the flow of blood, but it's still just a matter of time until the venom would reach your heart so I wouldn't aggravate it."

He blinked before nodding slowly. Something about the man's voice put him to ease.

"Thank you." He whispered. "For saving me from the monster."

"It is of no consequence." The man replied. "However what I'm about to tell you is important so I want you to listen." He bowed his head slightly. "The creature that attacked you was a Striga. You did well staying alive but she managed to infect you with her toxins during the fight."

"You should be dead by now." The man said bluntly. "The venom hasn't reached your heart yet…but at best you'd survive for another day."

"Oh…okay." He muttered, coughing as he did. His throat felt so dry but he didn't know if he could even force down water.

The man suddenly smirked. "First person I met to take that so calmly."

He laughed, something he made a note of never doing again as it was far more painful than even a Cruciatus curse right now. "Sometimes it's just easier to accept things than challenge them.".

"But there may be something we could do." The man said slowly. "There are a few potions and herbs at our disposal that could force you to become resistant to a variety of poisons, one of which is the venom that permeates your body at this very moment."

"But?" Of course there would be a catch. He was willing to bet whatever number of hours he had left.

"But." The man confirmed. "It will be painful and there is a high chance of it killing you if your body succumbs to the mixture. Given your condition right now the likelihood of your survival is low. Extremely low in fact."

He laughed again despite himself. Of course he'd get a choice like this. "Don't see much choice. What happens if I make it through?"

"You will have to take the trial until the end…the trial of herbs as we call it. The mixture we give you will transform you inside and out."

"Transform?" He echoed while the man offered him a brief nod. "What happens at the end?"

"You will live. But at a cost to your humanity." The man sighed. "I had taken the trial before as well…it was part of my training…training as a witcher." Seeing his look of confusion he added; "A hunter by trade."

"Oh…"

"I can see from your confusion that you really are not from around these parts." The man smiled faintly. "The transformations…the trial of herbs…it changes us, brings us closer to beasthood. On the one hand you will die as a result of the trial or the venom in a matter of hours. On the other the life you knew will be gone when you emerge from the trial."

"I see…" He said quietly. The choices he had were bleak. Die or accept to go through some kind of a ritual. To make matters worse he was far, far from what he called home. "Who are you?" He asked after a while making a look of surprise to flit across the man's face.

"I am Geralt. Geralt of Rivia." The newly identified Geralt replied with a slight bow of his head. "And may I ask who you are stranger?"

"Harry Potter."

"An unusual name." Geralt murmured. "The manner you speak is different as well…I have travelled far but I have never heard such speech before. You say you are from 'England'?"

"Yes. I-I don't suppose you have heard of it?"

"Can't say I have." Geralt eyed him critically. "Harry Potter…you have not given me an answer. The longer we spend, the longer you play with your chances."

"Why are you helping me Geralt?" He asked in response, causing the ashen haired man to smirk slightly.

"You are not a very trusting person I see."

"Unfortunately not." He said, his voice noticeably weaker. "And experience has taught me that nothing is ever free."

Geralt's smile widened although it looked a bit too predatory for his tastes.

"Indeed." The witcher agreed. "By saving your life you're now indebted to me…I'm sure you understand what that entails."

He remained silent, life debts as it seemed, was something universal. Plus there was no way he could dispute this…the man had already saved his life. Twice in fact.

"What do you want from me?"

Geralt seemed to ponder the question for a few moments. "The trial is so called because it is just that...a test." He added to Harry's questioning look. "It is the quintessential test in proving who is a witcher and who is not."

"And what happens to those who aren't?" Harry asked, although he had a suspicion to what the answer would be.

"They die." Geralt said simply, confirming his suspicions. "The trial is perhaps the most closely guarded secret of our order. If you are strong enough to survive it, you are strong enough to fight the evil that plagues these lands. If not, you perish."

"So…" He narrowed his eyes. "You want me to what? Be one of you? A hunter?"

"If you survive." Geralt said with a nod. "If you survive then you will take up the mantle of a witcher as payment for the trial."

He thought about asking 'and if I refuse?' but almost immediately shot himself down. It was pointless. This man would just leave him here in the wilderness to die.

So the choice was simple. Try to live or die.

He didn't have many other options. This place…these lands…they felt so strange to him. He knew he'd done something stupid the moment he went to investigate the light at the end of Little Whinging instead of waiting patiently for the headmaster to come get him from the Dursleys. Just never thought he'd end up with a bad case of selective amnesia giving him a blank period of then and how he winded up in a bloody crypt with an abomination.

To hell with it…he would take the chances he can get. The sooner he's back on his feet, the sooner he'd get back home.

It was with these thoughts he uttered a single word that would change the course of the future and set him on a path far more dangerous than anything his life back 'home' could've thrown at him.

But at least it was his choice this time.

AN: I did have an itch to write a witcher crossover that needed scratching so yeah.

Do have a loose plan for this story. Right now I'm jacked up on the witcher hype and I'm certain it will not disappoint me…even if I still haven't played the wild hunt yet as I'm still being a tourist (somewhere in Europe now) but it's on top of my to-do list when I get back home. However I loved the previous games and novels to death so…I will love this game by default no matter what.

Firstly, I plan on doing this story similar to the way Andrzej Sapkowski did in his books after proper introductions. Those who've read 'em might know…but it'll become clear when I continue on with this. It would be a tad different from my usual stories either way.

Secondly this will be a departure from the usual tone of my stories. Bar the Assassin's Creed crossover I have sitting somewhere in a hiatus state. (Sidenote - AC Unity's bugs and shit around launch coupled with the lackluster gameplay and kinda stupid storyline drained me of my affinity for the series as a whole and lead me away from it…but I still will pick it up sometime when it strikes my fancy.)

Back to what I was saying, the tone will be similar to what the Witcher is and I will try to stay true to the source material. The Witcher is an adult, relatively dark fantasy. While this doesn't mean I'll deal with cringy subject matter (stuff like rape and others along the line have no place in my writing), expect other stuff.

Of course, romance plays a part as well. Just won't be too important (or would it?). Pairings undecided for now but it will slowly make itself clear.

I expect I'll write this story on and off while keeping 'His Angel' the priority.