So, this is the first story I've published in a long time. I recently acquired an Xbox One, and then got the Tomb Raider: Definitive Edition on a whim. I haven't regretted it at all. I've played through the game at least five times now, and while I was reading through Steelbadger's Harry Potter and the Sun Queen, I was inspired to put my own twist on it.

I have a lot already written, however, I've broken it down into more manageable chunks for purposes of posting, and even though I'm not done with the story yet, I've already got a sequel percolating in the back of my head. This is the first crossover I've ever done, and my knowledge of Lara Croft stems almost exclusively from the 2013 reboot, and 2015's Rise of the Tomb Raider, and a little bit of trivia here and there from the video games that came before it.

I have, of course, taken some creative license with various things, but I'd like to think that I meshed it well enough for your suspense of disbelief. I plan on slow updates, mostly just so I can stay well ahead in my writing, but if I see a good enough following, I may be persuaded to post sooner than once a month.

Now, please enjoy my story, the Master of the Tomb Raider.

"Mr. Roth?"

Conrad Roth looked up from the German lager he was swirling around the bottle, and met the piercing green eyes of a young man with completely untamed hair.

"Who's asking?" Conrad questioned, eyes squinted in suspicion at the man who obviously knew who he was.

The young man slid into the booth across from him, surreptitiously waving his hand in a circle, and the thumping music and screaming of bar patrons muted down to far more bearable levels.

"Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Man-Who-Conquered, Man-of-too-goddamn-many-bloody-hyphenated-titles," the now named Harry Potter sighed out, brow pinching in annoyance. "It's about fifteen years too late, but your sister Ariella Roth was killed by magical terrorists during the resurgence of the Dark Lord Voldemort from the year of '95 to '98. I'm sorry for your loss."

Roth's jaw tensed as he stared at this man who had so nonchalantly spoken of his sister's death.

"For what it's worth, I killed the bastard who ordered her death. And the bastards who did her in are all dead too. She went out fighting to protect children from being slaughtered themselves. She managed to hold the dark bastards off long enough for the children to escape, and would've escaped herself if one of the bastards hadn't gotten a lucky shot in on her."

Harry pulled a flask from somewhere, Roth didn't see, vision occluded by silent tears. But he did see Harry raise the flask, and hear him say, "To Ariella Roth, the woman who saved three dozen children from death."

Roth clinked his bottle against the metal flask, before slugging back a hard swallow of his lager.

For the next hour, Conrad listened to Harry explain the series of tragedies that had befallen Magical Britain, and the culmination of everything on May second, nineteen ninety eight. Conrad refused the offer to see the memorial erected for all the people that had fallen during Voldemort's second rise.

"I'd rather remember her as she was, not as she is." Conrad stated, before drawing himself up a bit more. "But I'm sure that's not what you're actually here for. Someone of your stature wouldn't take up your time coming to visit an old, crusty bastard like me. So, why are you here?"

"I've been commissioned by the Japanese Ministry of Magic to clear up a problem that's been sitting in their backyard for almost five thousand years." Harry explained. "Perhaps you've heard of the Dragon's Triangle, south of Japan? Makes the Bermuda Triangle look like a pleasant afternoon in a picturesque park?"

"Aye, I've heard of it. Why?"

"What do you know of phylacteries?"

Conrad stiffened.

"Quite a bit then," Harry said, eyeing Roth carefully. "Long story short, an ancient witch figured out how to make a ritual that allowed her to transfer her soul to another living being, thereby making the host person into a phylactery. Once the host crept into old age, which happened quite a bit faster than normal, a new host was chosen, groomed, and then transferred into. Rinse and repeat for about a thousand years, and suddenly, the Magical Kingdom of Yamatai goes silent, the island disappears from all maps, and the Dragon's Triangle comes into being. There are conflicting reports, but there are a few things that all reports agree on. The witch was made queen of the island of Yamatai, a nation independent of the Ancient Magical Japanese Empire, that her name was Himiko, and that she gathered enough magicals to her to control the weather around her island. By personal extrapolation, I've figured out that she eventually just ripped the magic from the other magicals, and added their power to her own. Anybody that can match your own power, is a threat, in the minds of all dark lords and ladies. By the way, ripping magic away from a magical, results in that person's death."

"You think Himiko is still there." Roth said.

"I know that she's still there." Harry said, pulling a tiny black stone out of the ring he wore. "Bloody Stone won't leave me alone. Long story short, this stone was turned into a magical artifact by Death himself about a thousand years ago or so, now. It allows the user to bring back a shade of a deceased person, if the user knows the name of the person they wish to summon. Or their title. Doesn't matter which. When I use it, I get no shade. Which means, either she's alive on that island, trapped by her own magic, which I doubt, or her latest host pulled a fast one on Himiko, and she's now trapped in a body somewhere between life and death. I'm betting on the latter."

"Why tell me?" Roth asked, pushing his lager aside to lean in closer.

"I need to get on that island." Harry said, leaning in himself. "Magical transport gets bounced off, flying carpets and brooms get knocked out of the air, and the storms come out of nowhere to wreck any planes or ships that tries to leave, if they get there in one piece, that is. Magical Japan's been trying everything they could think of for the last few centuries, to no avail."

"You want to hire me, and my ship, to go to an island I won't be able to get off of, that will probably wreck my ship getting there. Is that what you're saying?" Roth bit out.

"Mr. Roth, I've personally broken into, and out of Gringotts bank here in Diagon Alley. I have survived going up against dragons, nundus, a basilisk, spiders big enough to make a civilian lorry look kind of small, giants, soul sucking demons, a sphinx, a creature that takes on the form of your worst fear, werewolves, vampires, half harpy women that throw fire around like it's going out of style, trolls, and a menagerie of other things guaranteed to bloody kill me, and I've walked away with less than half a dozen scars to show for it all. And, gotten everyone with me, out of it with minimal injury."

"Still doesn't do anything if my ship gets wrecked." Roth said sharply.

"If anything happens to your ship, I'll replace it with anything you want under fifty million pounds. After all, that's what the Japanese Ministry of Magic is paying me for this job." Harry waved off the sputtering ship captain. "Trust me, I don't need the money. I make plenty as it is."

"You're one of those bloody purebloods aren't you." Roth finally growled. He was taken aback by the frown Harry threw him.

"No." He sighed. "I'm a halfblood. My mother was a muggleborn, like your sister. But, yes, my father was a pureblood, of one of the oldest Houses in Europe. I grew up living with my muggle relatives, who hated magic, and grew up believing I was a poor little orphan, born of a pair of addicts who died in a car crash, up until my entrance into the magical world, where I found out I was bloody rich. Never liked showing it off, and I've made some serious investments in the muggle world, who would've though Apple would've taken off so suddenly, so I think I'm fine for now, as far as money goes. I'm offering ten million pounds now, and ten million pounds upon return, to be used at your discretion for ship, crew, and equipment. Any non-magical artifacts, if found on Yamatai, are yours, while any magical artifacts are mine.

"Make sure to select a crew you trust to be discreet about the concept of magic being real." Harry said, sliding a check and an address card across the table to Roth. "If you're unable to contract such a crew, contact me at this number, and I will negotiate with Gringotts for squibs and muggleborn witches and wizards who are comfortable working with muggle machinery."

With that, Harry waved his hand, and the music crashed back into Roth's unprepared ears as Harry got up.

"I never agreed!" Roth shouted over the music.

"Do you want the twenty million pounds and a new ship or not?!" Harry shouted back.

"… Damn me for a fool!" Roth shouted, before sticking his hand out. "You got yourself a deal!"

"Good man!" Harry said, shaking Roth's hand. "By the way, I believe Ms. Croft needs a thesis subject! And her roommate needs a documentary of some sort for her own graduation! Ms. Nishimura's status as a descendant of one of Himiko's hosts should provide us a shield against the worst of Himiko's wrath!"

And with that, Harry turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Roth stared after him, before looking down at the check filled out to him for ten million pounds, and then at his bottle of German lager.

"Sure don't feel drunk." He muttered, pocketing the check, before looking at the simple, off-white address card.

Harry Potter

Department of Mysteries

Office of Soul Affairs

British Ministry of Magic

Office: 1-800-126-2442 Ext: 7685

"On second thought, I'm going to go home and get drunk." Roth said, calling for his tab, before going outside and hailing a taxi.

"… How's he know about Lara?" Roth asked himself, once he was ensconced in his small apartment, nursing a locally made beer. "… I'm too sober for this magic shite."

And how do you like it?! Please, if you are a good beta reader, and saw any mistakes, please PM so that we can talk! I need a beta badly. And maybe a place where I can bounce ideas out of my head.

Til next time!