Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Shots in the Dark ❯ PCPIBLS 6 ( Chapter 6 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Jim Ohki 
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Adventure / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 10.06.2014 | Pages: 4 | Words: 7.6K | Visits: 503 | Status: Completed
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Adventure / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 10.06.2014 | Pages: 4 | Words: 7.6K | Visits: 503 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I make no claims at ownership of any copyrighted characters, places or events used herein. The only thing I make a claim to is this fic, which originated in my head and any original characters created by me herein. The following was made for public consumption at zero profit, and is not for sale except to the owning companies. Yes, I dream big.
BOOM SHAKALAKA!
Rant: Rather long delay I know, just been researching ideas and styles to make this fic work. There’s more notes and whatnot at the end.
Phenomenal Cosmic Powers, Itty-Bitty Living Space Arc Two Part One
By: (Driver) Jim Ohki
(Undisclosed Dimension)
Events come and go no matter which path a person, or an entire reality, takes. This reality had its far share of ups and downs, strife and joy. One such case of strife was a rather dreary night on the last day of October.
The Heavens of this reality were in a panic, as events played out in Midgard. A powerful dimensional quake had occurred and was affecting everything. There was no hope of diverting events on the surface world now as the first shockwave made itself known.
Screams and the sound of battle filled the air this night, alongside maniacal laughter. The interior of the house that had been the battlefield became silent, save for the laughter and the cries of a baby. The laughter died down then was immediately followed by a flash of green.
As observed by both sides of the Conflict, everything was as it should be. Their opinion of this changed as in a bizarre twist that only Chaos can cause the full power of the dimensional quake intersected with the contact point of a surge of power that would have ended the caster’s corporeal existence.
“NO!” a rather shrill yet male voice roared, watching stupefied as what should have killed the boy came flying back at him. He tried to disperse his consciousness amongst his trump cards but found most of the links cut off. For the first time the voice of the man that had terrified many demonstrated his own fears as loud as his voice box could.
Those watching were confused. So far everything had gone as ordained by the Script. Why did the situation feel so . . . wrong?
The answer came from a solitary monitor in Asgard, one that hadn’t been looked at in millennia. The wound on the forehead of the baby boy, shaped like a lightning bolt due to the power behind the quake, pulsed in rhythm with his heart for ten minutes, before fading away to nothing. In the future of another timeline, it could be compared to an Inter-Plexing Beacon . . .
(Ten years later . . .)
Odd things happening didn’t begin to cover the life and times of one Harry Potter. As long as he could remember, he’d had some control over the power that he felt flowing through his veins.
If any mortal had witnessed his life up to this point they’d be sickened by what they saw. All that the now eleven year-old boy knew of his parents were lies told by his relatives, immediately before being shoved into the hated cupboard under the stairs.
He was ignorant of most things in life, while being overeducated in others. The things that the rest of humanity took for granted, like the drive and the bonds of friendships, he equated to pain. Being able to take care of himself, however, was something that many parents would find joy with under more ideal circumstances. His domestic skills were honed under the watchful eye –and rolling pin or whatever weapon of choice on hand- of the loathsome Petunia Dursley, more commonly referred to as the giraffe. Hard labor was no stranger to him, from knowing how to cook to weeding the garden to perfection.
There were many things that he kept hidden from his ‘family’. His intelligence could be compared to a certain red haired Goddess cum scientist. His core had developed much earlier than what would be normal, and just as unusual he could deduce what he needed to do to get desired results like there was an instruction manual in his head. Something was missing to make it work completely though, and anything more than what would get him a job as a magician tired him immensely.
Love was such a foreign concept to him, which was the root of his ignorance. Many would wonder how it was possible that he hadn’t gone insane and slaughtered the relatives. Just as many would be horrified that he’d prefer to go to sleep permanently, and had tried several times to reach this state. As always something kept him alive, something that warmed his heart whenever he thought on it.
It seems that James and Lily Potter had no desire to see their son so soon. They interfered more than was allowed, although they got away with it since the Almighty was preoccupied with something else. They had noticed that Heaven was in an uproar, leaving the mortal souls to do as they please without consequence.
Being the end of July –the entire reason he could claim his eleventh year- today’s oddness menu included owls. Vernon Dursley, whale of a being that dared to insult man, was thundering back and forth through the house chasing the damnable birds. While Harry couldn’t see exactly what was going on, the voice of what many would consider at first glance to be a walrus gave him a play-by-play account of the goings on. There were apparently five owls in the house, each one trying to get near the locked door to his ‘room’. The human walrus was playing goal keeper, thwarting the ‘flying rodents’ until the front door nearly caved in from a rather forceful knock. This distracted Vernon, allowing four of the owls to begin working on the locks. The fifth wasn’t so lucky, having been launched across the room by the bat he was wielding.
CRASH
The front door fell down, admitting the rather large man that had been demanding entrance for the past ten minutes. He eyes gazed around the room from behind the mass of hair that was his head, before catching sight of the fifth owl smashing into a wall before falling to the ground.
“Ye killed ‘im!” he roared, making the house vibrate as he strode forward before snatching the bat rather forcefully from the hands of the walking talking whale. After crushing the bat into sawdust, he took note of the other owls struggling with the locks on the cupboard. They moved out of his way as he reached in with a massive hand to simply remove the door from its mountings revealing the subject of his search.
“Wha’ are ye doin’ under them stairs?” he asked with a much quieter voice, taking in the appearance of the boy. He smelt rather bad, was dangerously thin and had several bruises that had yet to heal. The state of the youth was so bad that he couldn’t even get to his feet under his own power and was obviously favoring his right leg.
BOOM
The gunshot echoed throughout the house, and more than one neighbor heard it. The larger, and by far more pleasant, of the two men straightened up and turned around. Vernon looked scared witless now, the still smoking barrel of the shotgun in his hands shaking rather rapidly.
Through the destroyed door came Miss Figg, known throughout the neighborhood as the Cat Lady and the only one that would willingly look after Harry whenever the Dursley’s would go out. Taking in the sight of Vernon in a contest of wills with the Keeper of the Keys and Grounds Hagrid was at first amusing, before she noticed the shotgun. Looking behind the half-giant revealed Harry, in a state she had never seen. She’d always told that bumbling fool Dumbledore that Harry needed to be moved, and every time was told that it was impossible because of some old blood magic that was so vague even he couldn’t describe it.
“Floo him to Hogwarts,” rumbled Hagrid, not taking his eyes off of the Dursley patriarch. Whenever the accent vanished people knew that he was in full seriousness mode and followed his commands without delay, lest his wrath be directed to them. “Then tell Dumbledore I want a word.”
Oh yeah, he’s mad, thought the woman as she charged across the room where she got her first full look at Harry. All of the damage was new, as he had just looked underfed two days ago. With grace and power that belied her age she scooped him up then fled to her house while the contest of wills continued while the female giraffe cowered in the kitchen doorway.
Just as Harry crossed the threshold, what he uttered would change things as they stood in the Wizarding World.
“This is not my home. This is not my life. I hate this.”
Albus Dumbledore had a feeling that something had just gone wrong with Harry. Hagrid was taking an awfully long time in collecting him from Number Four Privet Drive and running the errand he’d been sent on. Contemplating the situation by thousand yard staring at the surface of his desk, he was suddenly brought out of his thoughts by one of the many trinkets around his office exploding rather loudly. The sudden shock was enough to send him toppling over backwards, legs sticking straight into the air. With the surprise came his first bout of accidental magic in nearly a century.
If anybody had seen the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they would have been treated to the sight of his waist length beard puffing out like an agitated cat before rolling itself all the way up to his face.
After righting himself, he reached for the Calming Draught laced lemon drops that was always in supply in his candy dish. The drop proved for naught when the floo flared to life, disgorging Miss Arabella Figg and the subject of his musings Harry Potter. She barely looked at him while charging headlong out of the Headmaster’s office.
What he’d seen in the three seconds the youth had been there made him frown rather deeply. The twinkle that usually graced his eyes vanished, before he finally stirred into motion.
Something else, which he would later wish to have been in his office for, happened due to Harry having his first contact with outside magic since acquiring the scar. It was a major event marked by many strange, and taken for granted, magic’s going awry.
The Floo Network had the sudden desire to vomit the travelers out, regardless if they were at their destination or not. A few families found themselves short a child; these were redirected to Hogwarts herself. Those that were ejected tried to reenter the network but found the powder unresponsive. When the last traveler was ejected every fireplace in Britain connected to the network belched red flames for a solid five minutes before coughing a few clouds of jet black ash.
At Gringotts the Goblins were in a panic –an emotion that is extremely hard for them to feel- running back and forth as chaos descended upon them. The magic’s governing the Inheritance Rite had stumbled upon a name then ran amok as other names were tossed in by the Soul Watchers. As these names were tossed in the Rite had to backtrack their histories as well as the first; the fact that the Wizarding World felt it necessary to inbreed from time to time created loops and the occasional paradox. Even the oldest magic can be confused, which led to the Rite and the Watch spitting out a cluster of names before self-destructing from the overload. The backlash caused the Record Keeping magic to follow in its footsteps, starting a chain reaction that forced the bank to close for the first time in over a century.
Back at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had made it half way to the Hospital Wing when he felt first the school then his companion Fawkes demanding his attention in his office as he had unscheduled visitors. Grumbling about the recent madness that had apparently taken over the world, he arced his turnaround so that his beard –traveling behind him in his haste- stayed out of his eyes.
In the Headmaster’s office several sets of eyes were looking around extremely confused. At least one in the crowd knew where they were, but could offer no explanation on how they got there let alone why they were separated from their families. It also didn’t help that two of them had been Apparated in from the muggle world and was cowering in a corner bawling their eyes out.
“Miss Tonks,” heralded the arrival of Dumbledore as he door crashed open, “could you explain why you’re all in my office?”
“I was hoping you could answer that,” said the hoodwinked Nymphadora Tonks, keeping her gestures small in an effort to control her clumsiness while blinking owlishly. “With the exception of the two in the corner, we were traveling by floo with our families –separately, mind you- when we landed here. We’ve each tried to floo out but the Network appears to be down.” Here she paused, taking in the muggle-born in the corner and making certain to point them out. “She was Apparated in by . . . something . . . and have no idea what’s going on, Professor.”
Taking in the bush that represented the hair he had a very good idea of whom was scared silly in his office. Making a quick decision, he started back towards the spinning staircase. “Come with me everybody, we’ll sort this out in the Hospital Wing.”
----
Madam Pomfrey had her hands full enough with the condition that Harry was in, so it was understandable that she was less than amused when Albus led more children into her domain. Seeing Tonks was no surprise, even if the new term hadn’t started yet. Seeing children that were either about to enter or were a year away from entering Hogwarts caused her right eyebrow to arch upwards in a classic Spock Maneuver.
“How’s Harry?” were the first words out of his mouth, to which he was rewarded with a scowl from several sides of the room. Minerva McGonagall had apparently gotten wind that young Potter was on the premises and was in full mothering mode. She was quite unhappy with the conditions that he had to grow up in, after being filled in by Rubeus Hagrid whom was on the verge of using his height to loom over his boss.
“Bah, Potters!” grumbled quite possibly the second most unwanted voice in the world. Glare and demeanor in place, Severus Snape was making it a point to observe the goings on anyway. Very few knew of the fact that when he looked at Harry he was more mad at himself for fumbling a relationship with Lily and was looking at the son he never had.
The young ones that had followed Dumbledore into the domain of Pomfrey paused in mid-step as their minds made the connection. Said Medi-witch was now glaring in two directions at once while trying to make herself into an obstacle as the next generation of witches charged the one occupied bed.
Harry was rather bored, wandering what he had determined to be his mindscape as the potions that Pomfrey had fed him knocked him out. How he knew this to be true was beyond him, but the descriptor felt right. If he concentrated he could hear what was going on in the outside world but for the moment could care less. Having gone through the contents of his mind and restructuring it to his liking –a chore that most wouldn’t accomplish in their lifetime- he found that the scar was acting like a link to the magic around him, filling his mind with every spell, charm, enchantment, hex, curse and ward ever created. If asked, he could give a twenty minute presentation on the Avada Kedavra from how it was created, it’s original use as a way to bloodlessly slaughter animals for food to adoption into the Unforgivables after one was intentionally aimed at a human. He also took note of a second consciousness being blocked by an energy that he couldn’t identify, an energy that felt chaotic to the extreme.
His senses alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone in his mindscape; those that had recently found their way in were waiting in the mental equivalent of the sitting room. Shifting in without a sound –this was his mind after all, he could control things like this- he observed them, taking in every detail that he could.
The oldest of the group appeared to be four, maybe five, years older than himself. Her hair was cycling colors at a rapid pace while her face betrayed her stupefaction at finding herself in a completely different situation.
The rest were either eleven or ten, if his guess was correct and they all appeared to be utterly terrified. The bushy brunette and the pigtailed sandy-blonde appeared to be the worst in this category, which actually relieved him in a way. Looking to his left, a pale-blonde was making an effort to keep her facial expression blank yet he could feel the waves of panic coming from her. There was something else about her that he couldn’t quite place, a mild form of madness that might be intentional to distance herself from others or hide an ability that she didn’t want known. Off to the right was a redhead that had brunette tones, depending on the lighting angle, looking at a bizarre abstract painting on the wall that featured a rather plump boy sporting a pig’s tail on his hind end.
“Hi there,” he announced his presence to the quartet, making them leap for the ‘ceiling’ and screeching their surprise. “My name is Harry Potter, welcome to . . . well, wherever we are.”
The humor was lost on the others, as they glared at him for scaring them.
“Can we possibly be in your mind?” came from the brunette, her voice on the verge of being haughty or if keeping in tone with her emotions, panicked. When she looked into his eyes she suddenly felt exposed to the extreme, as if her soul was an open book to be read by all.
“Personally, I have no idea,” he answered a few moments later, doing his best to mask his surprise at this newfound ability to read another’s mind in the literal sense. “And please, don’t try so hard to distance yourself from . . . us.” The pause was to make an observation of the others, performing what his link to magic informed him was Legilimency.
Shocked that he had indeed run through her mental Rolodex she flopped rather limply onto a convenient chair that hadn’t been there a moment ago. While she recovered he returned his attention to the others that were watching with awe.
“C’mon now, I gave my name,” he smirked lightly, delivering the humor he felt as they blushed in embarrassment and having the attention of the Boy-Who-Lived. This thought had been broadcast rather loudly so it came as no surprise he picked it up. “Boy who what? Wait, tell me who you are first.”
Silence was the answer, as they all looked at him surprised that he’d picked up a thought from their collective minds.
“Nymphadora Tonks,” suddenly said the elder of the group. “But just call me Tonks as I rather dislike my given name.”
“Susan Bones,” came from the redhead, “Niece of Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”
The pale-blonde had been starring off into space, idly twisting her head left and right like she was studying the meaning of life. It took her a moment to realize that she was under the scrutiny of her host. “Luna Lovegood. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“C’mon Sue, why’d you break out that little tidbit about your Aunt?” demanded the dirty-blonde, exasperated by her friend. After giving a rather impressive evil eye did she turn her attention to the boy in front of her. “Hannah Abbot.”
All eyes fell on the brunette, whom was still stewing trying to work up an outrage at having her deepest secrets thrust into the open. Having nothing to go with she stood up with a much more relaxed posture, deciding to drop the haughty shell and be herself.
“Hermione Granger, nice to meet you.”
While the meeting of the minds took place, the Hospital Wing was in a rather bad state. When the five had charged the sole occupant of the beds, the adults were too slow to react. They each went for the scar at the same time, incidentally overlapping hands just before contact was made. When they touched, there was a rather massive burst of pure power from Harry blowing everything from beds to bodies –minus those that were touching the scar- into the walls. Hagrid was blown out the doors into the hallway, somehow rolling over Misses Norris without squashing the cat.
“Merlin’s beard!” shouted Dumbledore at the commotion died down, revealing him plastered to the wall upside down. The last time he’d felt that burst of power was Halloween of ’81, just as intense now as it was then. Taking into consideration the distance from Godric’s Hollow to Hogwarts he had no doubt that all of the United Kingdom and the European coast felt the burst.
“That hurt,” came the deadpan voice of Snape from somewhere within the wreckage. The sounds of metal being moved around was then heard, followed by footsteps.
“What was that Albus?” wondered a dazed McGonagall as she stumbled about, her equilibrium messed up from being hit in the head with an empty potion flask.
“A little help here!” demanded Pomfrey, stuck under an overturned bed and unable to reach her wand.
Once the Wing was restored to normal, it became apparent that they had extra patients rather quickly. The girls that had been led in by Dumbledore were all unconscious, and even the normal spacing between beds from Harry caused the entire lot pain and made breathing difficult. Transfiguring the bed from single to a pair of side-by-side California King’s allowed the six to have physical contact to which their subconscious took advantage of rather quickly.
It was just after sorting them out that owls started to arrive. One, a snow-white owl was ignored as it perched itself directly over Harry’s head while softly bark-hooting and occasionally bobbing its head.
“We had better go collect the parents,” said a distracted Dumbledore as he read the parchment from the DMLE. Seeing return names clued him in to the identities of the other girls, even if Andromeda Tonks was threatening to send a Howler if he didn’t come up with answers in a quick order. Although he had to stare at the one owl that belonged to the school, as it had a letter from the Grangers that demonstrated their panic.
“The floo network is down,” Minerva read the parchment from Gringotts. “And the Goblins are reporting that the bank is closed indefinitely until their magic system is restored to normal.” Left unsaid was that there was another parchment for Harry which needed his immediate attention. She had decided not to say anything about this second delivery yet because she had a sneaking suspicious that Albus would try to stomp on whatever it was and prevent the young Potter from learning of it.
Fawkes made his appearance at this point, gliding into the room before landing at Harry’s feet. Getting a bark and a nod from the snowy owl, he carefully made his way onto his chest before setting in and resting his head on the scar.
The adults minus Pomfrey went to work collecting parents as it would be rather pointless to send a reply by owl then wait for them to appear via Apparation. The wards around the school would have them land in Hogsmeade anyway, so this would allow them time to explain what they knew of the situation before arriving at Hogwarts.
Two hours later, the now sizable crowd gathered around the massive bed, frowns on more than one face at the sight of their daughter nestled in with a boy and had doubts as to the identity of said boy as Fawkes was still covering the scar.
“This is an outrage!” roared Amelia Bones, causing the others to flinch away in fear. The matriarch of the Bones clan was on the verge of a full blown rant when she reached in and snatched her niece. While normally level-headed and fair, those traits went out the window whenever her charge –and the last of her family- was involved.
The result was instantaneous as the young ones lost the ability to breathe and started groaning in pain. This stopped Amelia as she had started for the door, Susan squirming in pain and obviously suffering. She ran back to where she started, almost throwing her only niece back onto the bed in panic. After a moment of rearranging the young ones, their condition improved greatly.
“As you can see,” started Dumbledore with an extra twinkle in his eyes that infuriated people, “it is highly advised to keep them in close proximity to each other. We don’t know if the distance will matter in the future, but for now they must be like this.”
“What is this?” wondered Andromeda Tonks, carefully stroking her daughter’s head as a method of calming herself down and trying to think the situation through.
“We don’t really know,” answered McGonagall. “Severus is down in the library looking up the symptoms displayed by them to see if there’s ever been an event like this before.”
“Is it really him?” came from Ted Tonks, using his left thumb to point at Harry. His mind was going around in circles, trying to analyze everything at once from every angle.
In response to the question, Fawkes moved his head revealing the scar for the first time. This changed the demeanors of the parents minus the Grangers whom had no idea what was so significant about a scar shaped like lightning.
After an hour of bringing the parents of Hermione into the loop about what was so important about the boy, they gave a stone faced nod in the direction of Dumbledore. Health-wise so long that, for the foreseeable future, she was with Harry she was perfectly fine. The term was due to start in a month, however because of Luna they were debating about either starting her early or having the others start a year later, plus having to take into consideration that Tonks was about to start her seventh year. It took a while for the parents to note that there was no voice in the debate for Harry save Dumbledore, who was pushing rather hard to start the youngest one early.
“Damn it Albus, what is so important about Harry that he must start this term?” barked Xenophilius Lovegood, making his presence known for the first time.
The Headmaster looked at the expectant faces of the parents, his staff, then over at Harry himself who while still unconscious gave a vibe that he was listening very aptly to the conversation.
“Voldemort,” massive flinch at the name, “is rumored to still be alive. His body was not found at Godric’s Hollow, and his followers still bear his mark. It’s faded, but still there nonetheless meaning the Dark Lord is still around. I fear he will try again to take Harry from us, and this must not be allowed. He must be trained to handle any and everything that is thrown at him.”
There was obviously much more to the situation then that however he didn’t divulge exactly what it was, in typical Dumbledore fashion. If the parchment from Gringotts –that he knew better than to open- was what he thought it was then Harry was about to be thrust unprepared into the adult world. It pained him greatly that the last of the Potters was about to lose what was left of his childhood, no matter how bad it was . . . at least, that was the outward appearance that he gave.
Snape made a timely entrance, robes billowing out in his wake like he was the Messiah of yore and full of self-importance. This distracted the adults from the previous conversation, and he took a moment to revel in the attention he was receiving for he knew that when he delivered his findings that the attention would again focus on Potter.
Slamming a book down on a table, he opened it to a earmarked page before storming out of the Hospital Wing, not wanting to hear a word about the gifts Potter had just been handed on a silver platter without lifting a finger to earn them.
“Great, he’s still on about Lily,” grumbled Hagrid, eyes hardening in anger and outrage. The remark earned more than one eyebrow raised in curiosity, although he refused to elaborate.
“Lily? I once knew a Lily Evans,” chimed in Rose Granger, Hermione’s mother. It was obvious between the elder Grangers where the bushy hair came from as she tried in vain to move her bangs out of her eyes. “But I haven’t seen her since just before her eleventh birthday.”
“Lily Evans is Harry’s mother,” explained Dumbledore, having conjured a purple recliner to sit on. “She, like your daughter, was a muggle-born witch and attended Hogwarts. It was here that she met James Potter, although it took the better part of six years for them to fall in love. The only problem was that Severus was also a student who fancied Lily, and if James hadn’t screwed his head on straight I dare say that the Potter line would have died out.”
“Oh great Merlin!” gasped out Minerva, having paid more attention to the book than the history that existed between Snape and the Potters, already being well aware of it. Her outburst drew the attention of the others which prompted her to read the entry aloud.
“The rarest of rare in the bonds is the Soul Bond; going many levels deeper than the Marriage Bond, Consort Bond, Concubine Bond or even the out-of-use Slave Bond. Quite literally any that are bonded in this manner share their life and magic for if one were to perish so would the other. Since record keeping began in 104 BC, there has never been more than two people in the Soul Bond at any given moment, although there have been emergency transfers –creating magical twins- used to spare the life of the survivor. The last Soul Bonds recorded were between Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw; Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff. It is noted that there is a prophecy attached to the Founders and their Heir, although it has been lost to the annals of time.”
Those in the know of the Wizarding World were finding themselves openly staring at the unconscious Harry, to which Fawkes turned his head in their direction before giving trill.
(Ranma-verse post merger, Saotome Fortress)
“This is getting old,” rumbled Ranma while pinching the bridge of his nose like he was fending off a migraine. He had taken advantage of a break in the action to do this, before leaping back into battle. Things weren’t going his way this day.
Shortly after returning from the Chase as he’d come to call it, he was under siege by Ryoga and in a twist of fate he should have seen coming Akane. The pair were focused upon his person and were ignoring everything else. The battle was fierce, between the walking explosive known as Hibiki and his desire not to harm Akane he found himself at a disadvantage. Not particularly caring about the why he was being attacked, instead he focused on defending his person and counterattacking as much as he could.
This strategy, while initially successful, was halted by a sudden pain traveling throughout his body to which the pair took advantage of, launching him into a wall. Using the distraction, Ryoga charged Ranma while Akane turned on her sisters much to their surprise. It didn’t take her long to subdue them as they had made the mistake of isolating themselves from any help, before jamming eleven centimeter tall mushrooms down their throats. Smirking in triumph, she turned her attention to Ryoga whom had just finished doing the same thing to Ranma.
The three regressed in age, now appearing no older than eleven years old. However, before the pair could cause any more damage they were captured rather forcefully by a battalion of Valkyries that looked rather upset at the situation.
“Great, the damned mushrooms again,” rumbled Ukyo, having picked another one up. A part of her felt compelled to eat it, to which she did before even thinking about what she was actually doing. Looking to her left revealed Shampoo doing the same thing, leaving the core that surrounded Ranma at the tender age of eleven.
As Ryoga and Akane were hustled off to the dungeons by a platoon of Demoness’ that looked mad at the loss of eye-candy, Ranma let out an animalistic roar of pain before landing on his face. He was rushed by those that had eaten the mushroom, the Norns and Hild. This turned out to be a good thing as they each had a hand gripping his shirt in an effort to lift him, forgetting that there were beings around that could do so with a gesture and application of mana or phisogue as he started to phase out of the reality.
“Good BYE!” taunted Akane, having turned around in time to see the lot vanish with a thunderclap of displaced air. Feeling extra haughty now that they were gone, she dared to boss the Demons around.
Bad idea? Oh yes. They made it clear that even though she was currently the last of the Tendo’s present, she had no authority whatsoever while threatening to feed her to the Hellhounds. Ryoga took exception to this and received a similar treatment for his troubles.
“Where is he?” demanded a new voice, just before they entered the barracks that housed the only entrance to the dungeons. All eyes fell on the newest beings to come to the Fortress, taking in the red-haired woman that had spoken.
“That piece of garbage is gone, hopefully for good!” roared Akane in challenge, not noticing that the Goddesses and Demons were bowing in reverence to the newcomers.
“The Chousin!” panicked one of the lower ranked Demons, backing away in absolute terror.
“Yes, now where is our brother? Where is Chaos?” again demanded Washu, having been elected spokesperson for the group and looking none too happy.
(Potter-verse, moments after Fawkes trilled)
The air crackled with power, forcing those that could to erect the most powerful Protego shields they could while one of them managed to cast a Silencio behind the shield just in case things got loud. The power continued to build before folding back upon itself, to which there was a boom comparable to five nuclear warheads going off at once. Everything not bolted down –somehow the bed that Harry and the girls were resting on was untouched- took flight for the walls again. Every window in the castle blew out, raining glass onto the courtyards below. The noise was heard as far away as London, shortly before the ground started to vibrate from the backlash which tripped seismic alarms in buildings and cars.
Even within the protection of the Silencio the noise could be heard, thankfully toned down the point of being just a dull roar. At the epicenter of the power wash lay nine bodies, eight females surrounding one male. Fully half of the girls appeared to be eleven, one looked to be about fourteen while the others were clearly adults.
Once again the Hospital Wing was repaired to its previous condition, even though the staff asked for assistance from the parents that could harness magic to help rebuild the rest of the castle. While they were gone, the Grangers were tasked with watching over the young ones after Pomfrey gave them a transfigured stone orb that would sound an alarm throughout the property if shaken five times.
A problem similar to what Potter and the girls were going through was discovered, which was why there were now two extra large beds wide by side filled with bodies.
While the events in the waking world had been happening, inside the mind of Harry the conversation had died off. Deeper introductions had been made, as many questions as possible were answered, a few games –either muggle or magical- were played and a few conversations sprung up then died for lack of interest.
The girls watched as Harry zoned out for a while, focusing on something else to the extent that he didn’t hear his name called for a full five minutes. When he rejoined them, he told them what he’d overheard and mentioned that Fawkes was currently resting his head on the scar doing . . . something. Entertaining themselves, with help from Tonks and her Metamoph-magi abilities, they settled in to while away the time not knowing when they were going to return to consciousness.
“That hurt,” heralded the arrival of visitors, before they popped into being next to Hermione scaring the daylights out of her.
“Did somebody get the truck of the plate that hit me?” moaned one of the females, wobbling about drunkenly and holding her head and looking decidedly green.
Once the new arrivals got themselves sorted out and introductions took place, the two groups stared at each other wanting to ask questions but afraid of insulting somebody.
“So, what brings you here?” wondered Harry with the tact of Ranma, having grown tired of the silence. He had at least managed to avoid the clichéd “Well, this is different.” even if he had sorely wanted to say it.
“Dunno ‘bout what brought us here,” answered the sole male while playing with his pigtail, “but I do know that we’re older than we look. Stupid mushrooms.”
That comment resulted in a ten minute lecture on the magic mushrooms and their effects, and how only one person on the face of the Earth could even find them without trying. With a few looks it had been decided to keep certain facts, like the Norns and Hild, away from those that didn’t need to know unless it was a dire emergency. From there the conversation traveled into the realm of magic, bringing the newcomers into the know that they were rather far from home.
The two groups quickly became good friends, and time moved on. Hogwarts was fully repaired and ready to receive students in two days, yet none of those in the Hospital Wing had awoken. Dumbledore had the presence of mind to collect the needed supplies for the new term, the only thing he couldn’t get were the wands.
“OY!” shouted Ranma, having woken up to find himself buried within a cluster of females. This attracted the attention of Madam Pomfrey, who descended upon those that had been bed-ridden for almost a month. She was pleasantly surprised to see that they were all coming around, to which she made use of the recently rebuilt Floo Network to get in touch with the parents and send an owl to the Grangers.
Within moments the Wing was host to joyous parents, even said Grangers whom had used the portkey that Dumbledore had left them for this event. Just after the parents arrived the Headmaster himself came into the Wing, beard traveling behind him over his right shoulder.
Being brought up to speed on the current date and events, it was left to them to decide on what to do about entering Hogwarts. While Harry and those bound to him moved off to have a conversation, Dumbledore turned towards Ranma.
“What would you say to entering Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?” he asked with little preamble, believing that he’d thought ahead with this set of youngsters. Something had sparked this idea, and with the month he’d had to ponder on it he’d realized it was a good one. The youngsters in front of him could be useful in his plans. They simply looked at each other, and as if to answer the question the adults and teenager regressed in age before his eyes to have the same appearance as their friends. He did make note of the tattoos but decided to leave well enough alone.
“Do we even have the power?” wondered Kasumi, looking almost hopeful to have found something to do with her restored youth. She was always up for learning something new, and this presented the perfect opportunity to do so.
“Yes, you all do,” answered the Headmaster. “All of your magical cores are on par with young Harry over there, which I must say is stronger than mine was at that age.” Sometimes letting little tidbits like that out hurt, and it was only the magic twinkling of his eyes that blocked them from seeing that.
“How do we afford your school?” came from Nabiki, elected financial advisor and quartermaster as she knew the most about money and how to use it to the maximum.
“We have a fund, rarely used as it is, for those that cannot afford the tuition and supplies,” he answered, while spotting a protest forming. “It’s not a handout, more like a scholarship program. We have no problem financing those that are less fortunate or are shall we say new to the neighborhood.”
Again the looks, before as one they turned and nodded their approval to the deal.
If only Dumbledore knew just what he was about to unleash upon the school, he may have never made the offer . . .
TBC
Ah, there we go! As you can see, I spent a lot of time researching for this. It took me stumbling into the rather extensive Potter section to really get interested in adding this component, then waiting for the movies to arrive for me to get a feel for what’s there. Yes, I am aware that the movies have plot hole big enough for me to drive my truck into, as the book’s cover so much more. I guess they didn’t want a Lord of the Rings time-length motif. Bastards.
Now for the rest of the rant: I’ve been accused of going to slow with this. All I have to answer with is yer not gonna pick up a sci-fi/fantasy that has a two page intro, goes into gratuitous action and possibly sex, have romance, and a decent plot without back-building. That’s where I’m going here, canon info should be known but for the sake of the fic I have to back-build relationships so that it flows smoothly. Especially since this is an Alternate Universe piece. As for excessive scene jumping, hopefully this chapter did better in that regard.
Edit: Many probably don’t remember the original of this chapter, but I’ve come to a conclusion about the relationships that JKR attempted to set up. They blew, rather hardcore. She admits it herself that teenage angst is not her forte, and thus the entire reason behind the totally unbelievable pairings in Canon. Why I even tried to stay with that garbage I’ll never know.
Ja!
Edited in Faribault, MN
BOOM SHAKALAKA!
Rant: Rather long delay I know, just been researching ideas and styles to make this fic work. There’s more notes and whatnot at the end.
Phenomenal Cosmic Powers, Itty-Bitty Living Space Arc Two Part One
By: (Driver) Jim Ohki
(Undisclosed Dimension)
Events come and go no matter which path a person, or an entire reality, takes. This reality had its far share of ups and downs, strife and joy. One such case of strife was a rather dreary night on the last day of October.
The Heavens of this reality were in a panic, as events played out in Midgard. A powerful dimensional quake had occurred and was affecting everything. There was no hope of diverting events on the surface world now as the first shockwave made itself known.
Screams and the sound of battle filled the air this night, alongside maniacal laughter. The interior of the house that had been the battlefield became silent, save for the laughter and the cries of a baby. The laughter died down then was immediately followed by a flash of green.
As observed by both sides of the Conflict, everything was as it should be. Their opinion of this changed as in a bizarre twist that only Chaos can cause the full power of the dimensional quake intersected with the contact point of a surge of power that would have ended the caster’s corporeal existence.
“NO!” a rather shrill yet male voice roared, watching stupefied as what should have killed the boy came flying back at him. He tried to disperse his consciousness amongst his trump cards but found most of the links cut off. For the first time the voice of the man that had terrified many demonstrated his own fears as loud as his voice box could.
Those watching were confused. So far everything had gone as ordained by the Script. Why did the situation feel so . . . wrong?
The answer came from a solitary monitor in Asgard, one that hadn’t been looked at in millennia. The wound on the forehead of the baby boy, shaped like a lightning bolt due to the power behind the quake, pulsed in rhythm with his heart for ten minutes, before fading away to nothing. In the future of another timeline, it could be compared to an Inter-Plexing Beacon . . .
(Ten years later . . .)
Odd things happening didn’t begin to cover the life and times of one Harry Potter. As long as he could remember, he’d had some control over the power that he felt flowing through his veins.
If any mortal had witnessed his life up to this point they’d be sickened by what they saw. All that the now eleven year-old boy knew of his parents were lies told by his relatives, immediately before being shoved into the hated cupboard under the stairs.
He was ignorant of most things in life, while being overeducated in others. The things that the rest of humanity took for granted, like the drive and the bonds of friendships, he equated to pain. Being able to take care of himself, however, was something that many parents would find joy with under more ideal circumstances. His domestic skills were honed under the watchful eye –and rolling pin or whatever weapon of choice on hand- of the loathsome Petunia Dursley, more commonly referred to as the giraffe. Hard labor was no stranger to him, from knowing how to cook to weeding the garden to perfection.
There were many things that he kept hidden from his ‘family’. His intelligence could be compared to a certain red haired Goddess cum scientist. His core had developed much earlier than what would be normal, and just as unusual he could deduce what he needed to do to get desired results like there was an instruction manual in his head. Something was missing to make it work completely though, and anything more than what would get him a job as a magician tired him immensely.
Love was such a foreign concept to him, which was the root of his ignorance. Many would wonder how it was possible that he hadn’t gone insane and slaughtered the relatives. Just as many would be horrified that he’d prefer to go to sleep permanently, and had tried several times to reach this state. As always something kept him alive, something that warmed his heart whenever he thought on it.
It seems that James and Lily Potter had no desire to see their son so soon. They interfered more than was allowed, although they got away with it since the Almighty was preoccupied with something else. They had noticed that Heaven was in an uproar, leaving the mortal souls to do as they please without consequence.
Being the end of July –the entire reason he could claim his eleventh year- today’s oddness menu included owls. Vernon Dursley, whale of a being that dared to insult man, was thundering back and forth through the house chasing the damnable birds. While Harry couldn’t see exactly what was going on, the voice of what many would consider at first glance to be a walrus gave him a play-by-play account of the goings on. There were apparently five owls in the house, each one trying to get near the locked door to his ‘room’. The human walrus was playing goal keeper, thwarting the ‘flying rodents’ until the front door nearly caved in from a rather forceful knock. This distracted Vernon, allowing four of the owls to begin working on the locks. The fifth wasn’t so lucky, having been launched across the room by the bat he was wielding.
CRASH
The front door fell down, admitting the rather large man that had been demanding entrance for the past ten minutes. He eyes gazed around the room from behind the mass of hair that was his head, before catching sight of the fifth owl smashing into a wall before falling to the ground.
“Ye killed ‘im!” he roared, making the house vibrate as he strode forward before snatching the bat rather forcefully from the hands of the walking talking whale. After crushing the bat into sawdust, he took note of the other owls struggling with the locks on the cupboard. They moved out of his way as he reached in with a massive hand to simply remove the door from its mountings revealing the subject of his search.
“Wha’ are ye doin’ under them stairs?” he asked with a much quieter voice, taking in the appearance of the boy. He smelt rather bad, was dangerously thin and had several bruises that had yet to heal. The state of the youth was so bad that he couldn’t even get to his feet under his own power and was obviously favoring his right leg.
BOOM
The gunshot echoed throughout the house, and more than one neighbor heard it. The larger, and by far more pleasant, of the two men straightened up and turned around. Vernon looked scared witless now, the still smoking barrel of the shotgun in his hands shaking rather rapidly.
Through the destroyed door came Miss Figg, known throughout the neighborhood as the Cat Lady and the only one that would willingly look after Harry whenever the Dursley’s would go out. Taking in the sight of Vernon in a contest of wills with the Keeper of the Keys and Grounds Hagrid was at first amusing, before she noticed the shotgun. Looking behind the half-giant revealed Harry, in a state she had never seen. She’d always told that bumbling fool Dumbledore that Harry needed to be moved, and every time was told that it was impossible because of some old blood magic that was so vague even he couldn’t describe it.
“Floo him to Hogwarts,” rumbled Hagrid, not taking his eyes off of the Dursley patriarch. Whenever the accent vanished people knew that he was in full seriousness mode and followed his commands without delay, lest his wrath be directed to them. “Then tell Dumbledore I want a word.”
Oh yeah, he’s mad, thought the woman as she charged across the room where she got her first full look at Harry. All of the damage was new, as he had just looked underfed two days ago. With grace and power that belied her age she scooped him up then fled to her house while the contest of wills continued while the female giraffe cowered in the kitchen doorway.
Just as Harry crossed the threshold, what he uttered would change things as they stood in the Wizarding World.
“This is not my home. This is not my life. I hate this.”
Albus Dumbledore had a feeling that something had just gone wrong with Harry. Hagrid was taking an awfully long time in collecting him from Number Four Privet Drive and running the errand he’d been sent on. Contemplating the situation by thousand yard staring at the surface of his desk, he was suddenly brought out of his thoughts by one of the many trinkets around his office exploding rather loudly. The sudden shock was enough to send him toppling over backwards, legs sticking straight into the air. With the surprise came his first bout of accidental magic in nearly a century.
If anybody had seen the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they would have been treated to the sight of his waist length beard puffing out like an agitated cat before rolling itself all the way up to his face.
After righting himself, he reached for the Calming Draught laced lemon drops that was always in supply in his candy dish. The drop proved for naught when the floo flared to life, disgorging Miss Arabella Figg and the subject of his musings Harry Potter. She barely looked at him while charging headlong out of the Headmaster’s office.
What he’d seen in the three seconds the youth had been there made him frown rather deeply. The twinkle that usually graced his eyes vanished, before he finally stirred into motion.
Something else, which he would later wish to have been in his office for, happened due to Harry having his first contact with outside magic since acquiring the scar. It was a major event marked by many strange, and taken for granted, magic’s going awry.
The Floo Network had the sudden desire to vomit the travelers out, regardless if they were at their destination or not. A few families found themselves short a child; these were redirected to Hogwarts herself. Those that were ejected tried to reenter the network but found the powder unresponsive. When the last traveler was ejected every fireplace in Britain connected to the network belched red flames for a solid five minutes before coughing a few clouds of jet black ash.
At Gringotts the Goblins were in a panic –an emotion that is extremely hard for them to feel- running back and forth as chaos descended upon them. The magic’s governing the Inheritance Rite had stumbled upon a name then ran amok as other names were tossed in by the Soul Watchers. As these names were tossed in the Rite had to backtrack their histories as well as the first; the fact that the Wizarding World felt it necessary to inbreed from time to time created loops and the occasional paradox. Even the oldest magic can be confused, which led to the Rite and the Watch spitting out a cluster of names before self-destructing from the overload. The backlash caused the Record Keeping magic to follow in its footsteps, starting a chain reaction that forced the bank to close for the first time in over a century.
Back at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had made it half way to the Hospital Wing when he felt first the school then his companion Fawkes demanding his attention in his office as he had unscheduled visitors. Grumbling about the recent madness that had apparently taken over the world, he arced his turnaround so that his beard –traveling behind him in his haste- stayed out of his eyes.
In the Headmaster’s office several sets of eyes were looking around extremely confused. At least one in the crowd knew where they were, but could offer no explanation on how they got there let alone why they were separated from their families. It also didn’t help that two of them had been Apparated in from the muggle world and was cowering in a corner bawling their eyes out.
“Miss Tonks,” heralded the arrival of Dumbledore as he door crashed open, “could you explain why you’re all in my office?”
“I was hoping you could answer that,” said the hoodwinked Nymphadora Tonks, keeping her gestures small in an effort to control her clumsiness while blinking owlishly. “With the exception of the two in the corner, we were traveling by floo with our families –separately, mind you- when we landed here. We’ve each tried to floo out but the Network appears to be down.” Here she paused, taking in the muggle-born in the corner and making certain to point them out. “She was Apparated in by . . . something . . . and have no idea what’s going on, Professor.”
Taking in the bush that represented the hair he had a very good idea of whom was scared silly in his office. Making a quick decision, he started back towards the spinning staircase. “Come with me everybody, we’ll sort this out in the Hospital Wing.”
----
Madam Pomfrey had her hands full enough with the condition that Harry was in, so it was understandable that she was less than amused when Albus led more children into her domain. Seeing Tonks was no surprise, even if the new term hadn’t started yet. Seeing children that were either about to enter or were a year away from entering Hogwarts caused her right eyebrow to arch upwards in a classic Spock Maneuver.
“How’s Harry?” were the first words out of his mouth, to which he was rewarded with a scowl from several sides of the room. Minerva McGonagall had apparently gotten wind that young Potter was on the premises and was in full mothering mode. She was quite unhappy with the conditions that he had to grow up in, after being filled in by Rubeus Hagrid whom was on the verge of using his height to loom over his boss.
“Bah, Potters!” grumbled quite possibly the second most unwanted voice in the world. Glare and demeanor in place, Severus Snape was making it a point to observe the goings on anyway. Very few knew of the fact that when he looked at Harry he was more mad at himself for fumbling a relationship with Lily and was looking at the son he never had.
The young ones that had followed Dumbledore into the domain of Pomfrey paused in mid-step as their minds made the connection. Said Medi-witch was now glaring in two directions at once while trying to make herself into an obstacle as the next generation of witches charged the one occupied bed.
Harry was rather bored, wandering what he had determined to be his mindscape as the potions that Pomfrey had fed him knocked him out. How he knew this to be true was beyond him, but the descriptor felt right. If he concentrated he could hear what was going on in the outside world but for the moment could care less. Having gone through the contents of his mind and restructuring it to his liking –a chore that most wouldn’t accomplish in their lifetime- he found that the scar was acting like a link to the magic around him, filling his mind with every spell, charm, enchantment, hex, curse and ward ever created. If asked, he could give a twenty minute presentation on the Avada Kedavra from how it was created, it’s original use as a way to bloodlessly slaughter animals for food to adoption into the Unforgivables after one was intentionally aimed at a human. He also took note of a second consciousness being blocked by an energy that he couldn’t identify, an energy that felt chaotic to the extreme.
His senses alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone in his mindscape; those that had recently found their way in were waiting in the mental equivalent of the sitting room. Shifting in without a sound –this was his mind after all, he could control things like this- he observed them, taking in every detail that he could.
The oldest of the group appeared to be four, maybe five, years older than himself. Her hair was cycling colors at a rapid pace while her face betrayed her stupefaction at finding herself in a completely different situation.
The rest were either eleven or ten, if his guess was correct and they all appeared to be utterly terrified. The bushy brunette and the pigtailed sandy-blonde appeared to be the worst in this category, which actually relieved him in a way. Looking to his left, a pale-blonde was making an effort to keep her facial expression blank yet he could feel the waves of panic coming from her. There was something else about her that he couldn’t quite place, a mild form of madness that might be intentional to distance herself from others or hide an ability that she didn’t want known. Off to the right was a redhead that had brunette tones, depending on the lighting angle, looking at a bizarre abstract painting on the wall that featured a rather plump boy sporting a pig’s tail on his hind end.
“Hi there,” he announced his presence to the quartet, making them leap for the ‘ceiling’ and screeching their surprise. “My name is Harry Potter, welcome to . . . well, wherever we are.”
The humor was lost on the others, as they glared at him for scaring them.
“Can we possibly be in your mind?” came from the brunette, her voice on the verge of being haughty or if keeping in tone with her emotions, panicked. When she looked into his eyes she suddenly felt exposed to the extreme, as if her soul was an open book to be read by all.
“Personally, I have no idea,” he answered a few moments later, doing his best to mask his surprise at this newfound ability to read another’s mind in the literal sense. “And please, don’t try so hard to distance yourself from . . . us.” The pause was to make an observation of the others, performing what his link to magic informed him was Legilimency.
Shocked that he had indeed run through her mental Rolodex she flopped rather limply onto a convenient chair that hadn’t been there a moment ago. While she recovered he returned his attention to the others that were watching with awe.
“C’mon now, I gave my name,” he smirked lightly, delivering the humor he felt as they blushed in embarrassment and having the attention of the Boy-Who-Lived. This thought had been broadcast rather loudly so it came as no surprise he picked it up. “Boy who what? Wait, tell me who you are first.”
Silence was the answer, as they all looked at him surprised that he’d picked up a thought from their collective minds.
“Nymphadora Tonks,” suddenly said the elder of the group. “But just call me Tonks as I rather dislike my given name.”
“Susan Bones,” came from the redhead, “Niece of Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”
The pale-blonde had been starring off into space, idly twisting her head left and right like she was studying the meaning of life. It took her a moment to realize that she was under the scrutiny of her host. “Luna Lovegood. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“C’mon Sue, why’d you break out that little tidbit about your Aunt?” demanded the dirty-blonde, exasperated by her friend. After giving a rather impressive evil eye did she turn her attention to the boy in front of her. “Hannah Abbot.”
All eyes fell on the brunette, whom was still stewing trying to work up an outrage at having her deepest secrets thrust into the open. Having nothing to go with she stood up with a much more relaxed posture, deciding to drop the haughty shell and be herself.
“Hermione Granger, nice to meet you.”
While the meeting of the minds took place, the Hospital Wing was in a rather bad state. When the five had charged the sole occupant of the beds, the adults were too slow to react. They each went for the scar at the same time, incidentally overlapping hands just before contact was made. When they touched, there was a rather massive burst of pure power from Harry blowing everything from beds to bodies –minus those that were touching the scar- into the walls. Hagrid was blown out the doors into the hallway, somehow rolling over Misses Norris without squashing the cat.
“Merlin’s beard!” shouted Dumbledore at the commotion died down, revealing him plastered to the wall upside down. The last time he’d felt that burst of power was Halloween of ’81, just as intense now as it was then. Taking into consideration the distance from Godric’s Hollow to Hogwarts he had no doubt that all of the United Kingdom and the European coast felt the burst.
“That hurt,” came the deadpan voice of Snape from somewhere within the wreckage. The sounds of metal being moved around was then heard, followed by footsteps.
“What was that Albus?” wondered a dazed McGonagall as she stumbled about, her equilibrium messed up from being hit in the head with an empty potion flask.
“A little help here!” demanded Pomfrey, stuck under an overturned bed and unable to reach her wand.
Once the Wing was restored to normal, it became apparent that they had extra patients rather quickly. The girls that had been led in by Dumbledore were all unconscious, and even the normal spacing between beds from Harry caused the entire lot pain and made breathing difficult. Transfiguring the bed from single to a pair of side-by-side California King’s allowed the six to have physical contact to which their subconscious took advantage of rather quickly.
It was just after sorting them out that owls started to arrive. One, a snow-white owl was ignored as it perched itself directly over Harry’s head while softly bark-hooting and occasionally bobbing its head.
“We had better go collect the parents,” said a distracted Dumbledore as he read the parchment from the DMLE. Seeing return names clued him in to the identities of the other girls, even if Andromeda Tonks was threatening to send a Howler if he didn’t come up with answers in a quick order. Although he had to stare at the one owl that belonged to the school, as it had a letter from the Grangers that demonstrated their panic.
“The floo network is down,” Minerva read the parchment from Gringotts. “And the Goblins are reporting that the bank is closed indefinitely until their magic system is restored to normal.” Left unsaid was that there was another parchment for Harry which needed his immediate attention. She had decided not to say anything about this second delivery yet because she had a sneaking suspicious that Albus would try to stomp on whatever it was and prevent the young Potter from learning of it.
Fawkes made his appearance at this point, gliding into the room before landing at Harry’s feet. Getting a bark and a nod from the snowy owl, he carefully made his way onto his chest before setting in and resting his head on the scar.
The adults minus Pomfrey went to work collecting parents as it would be rather pointless to send a reply by owl then wait for them to appear via Apparation. The wards around the school would have them land in Hogsmeade anyway, so this would allow them time to explain what they knew of the situation before arriving at Hogwarts.
Two hours later, the now sizable crowd gathered around the massive bed, frowns on more than one face at the sight of their daughter nestled in with a boy and had doubts as to the identity of said boy as Fawkes was still covering the scar.
“This is an outrage!” roared Amelia Bones, causing the others to flinch away in fear. The matriarch of the Bones clan was on the verge of a full blown rant when she reached in and snatched her niece. While normally level-headed and fair, those traits went out the window whenever her charge –and the last of her family- was involved.
The result was instantaneous as the young ones lost the ability to breathe and started groaning in pain. This stopped Amelia as she had started for the door, Susan squirming in pain and obviously suffering. She ran back to where she started, almost throwing her only niece back onto the bed in panic. After a moment of rearranging the young ones, their condition improved greatly.
“As you can see,” started Dumbledore with an extra twinkle in his eyes that infuriated people, “it is highly advised to keep them in close proximity to each other. We don’t know if the distance will matter in the future, but for now they must be like this.”
“What is this?” wondered Andromeda Tonks, carefully stroking her daughter’s head as a method of calming herself down and trying to think the situation through.
“We don’t really know,” answered McGonagall. “Severus is down in the library looking up the symptoms displayed by them to see if there’s ever been an event like this before.”
“Is it really him?” came from Ted Tonks, using his left thumb to point at Harry. His mind was going around in circles, trying to analyze everything at once from every angle.
In response to the question, Fawkes moved his head revealing the scar for the first time. This changed the demeanors of the parents minus the Grangers whom had no idea what was so significant about a scar shaped like lightning.
After an hour of bringing the parents of Hermione into the loop about what was so important about the boy, they gave a stone faced nod in the direction of Dumbledore. Health-wise so long that, for the foreseeable future, she was with Harry she was perfectly fine. The term was due to start in a month, however because of Luna they were debating about either starting her early or having the others start a year later, plus having to take into consideration that Tonks was about to start her seventh year. It took a while for the parents to note that there was no voice in the debate for Harry save Dumbledore, who was pushing rather hard to start the youngest one early.
“Damn it Albus, what is so important about Harry that he must start this term?” barked Xenophilius Lovegood, making his presence known for the first time.
The Headmaster looked at the expectant faces of the parents, his staff, then over at Harry himself who while still unconscious gave a vibe that he was listening very aptly to the conversation.
“Voldemort,” massive flinch at the name, “is rumored to still be alive. His body was not found at Godric’s Hollow, and his followers still bear his mark. It’s faded, but still there nonetheless meaning the Dark Lord is still around. I fear he will try again to take Harry from us, and this must not be allowed. He must be trained to handle any and everything that is thrown at him.”
There was obviously much more to the situation then that however he didn’t divulge exactly what it was, in typical Dumbledore fashion. If the parchment from Gringotts –that he knew better than to open- was what he thought it was then Harry was about to be thrust unprepared into the adult world. It pained him greatly that the last of the Potters was about to lose what was left of his childhood, no matter how bad it was . . . at least, that was the outward appearance that he gave.
Snape made a timely entrance, robes billowing out in his wake like he was the Messiah of yore and full of self-importance. This distracted the adults from the previous conversation, and he took a moment to revel in the attention he was receiving for he knew that when he delivered his findings that the attention would again focus on Potter.
Slamming a book down on a table, he opened it to a earmarked page before storming out of the Hospital Wing, not wanting to hear a word about the gifts Potter had just been handed on a silver platter without lifting a finger to earn them.
“Great, he’s still on about Lily,” grumbled Hagrid, eyes hardening in anger and outrage. The remark earned more than one eyebrow raised in curiosity, although he refused to elaborate.
“Lily? I once knew a Lily Evans,” chimed in Rose Granger, Hermione’s mother. It was obvious between the elder Grangers where the bushy hair came from as she tried in vain to move her bangs out of her eyes. “But I haven’t seen her since just before her eleventh birthday.”
“Lily Evans is Harry’s mother,” explained Dumbledore, having conjured a purple recliner to sit on. “She, like your daughter, was a muggle-born witch and attended Hogwarts. It was here that she met James Potter, although it took the better part of six years for them to fall in love. The only problem was that Severus was also a student who fancied Lily, and if James hadn’t screwed his head on straight I dare say that the Potter line would have died out.”
“Oh great Merlin!” gasped out Minerva, having paid more attention to the book than the history that existed between Snape and the Potters, already being well aware of it. Her outburst drew the attention of the others which prompted her to read the entry aloud.
“The rarest of rare in the bonds is the Soul Bond; going many levels deeper than the Marriage Bond, Consort Bond, Concubine Bond or even the out-of-use Slave Bond. Quite literally any that are bonded in this manner share their life and magic for if one were to perish so would the other. Since record keeping began in 104 BC, there has never been more than two people in the Soul Bond at any given moment, although there have been emergency transfers –creating magical twins- used to spare the life of the survivor. The last Soul Bonds recorded were between Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw; Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff. It is noted that there is a prophecy attached to the Founders and their Heir, although it has been lost to the annals of time.”
Those in the know of the Wizarding World were finding themselves openly staring at the unconscious Harry, to which Fawkes turned his head in their direction before giving trill.
(Ranma-verse post merger, Saotome Fortress)
“This is getting old,” rumbled Ranma while pinching the bridge of his nose like he was fending off a migraine. He had taken advantage of a break in the action to do this, before leaping back into battle. Things weren’t going his way this day.
Shortly after returning from the Chase as he’d come to call it, he was under siege by Ryoga and in a twist of fate he should have seen coming Akane. The pair were focused upon his person and were ignoring everything else. The battle was fierce, between the walking explosive known as Hibiki and his desire not to harm Akane he found himself at a disadvantage. Not particularly caring about the why he was being attacked, instead he focused on defending his person and counterattacking as much as he could.
This strategy, while initially successful, was halted by a sudden pain traveling throughout his body to which the pair took advantage of, launching him into a wall. Using the distraction, Ryoga charged Ranma while Akane turned on her sisters much to their surprise. It didn’t take her long to subdue them as they had made the mistake of isolating themselves from any help, before jamming eleven centimeter tall mushrooms down their throats. Smirking in triumph, she turned her attention to Ryoga whom had just finished doing the same thing to Ranma.
The three regressed in age, now appearing no older than eleven years old. However, before the pair could cause any more damage they were captured rather forcefully by a battalion of Valkyries that looked rather upset at the situation.
“Great, the damned mushrooms again,” rumbled Ukyo, having picked another one up. A part of her felt compelled to eat it, to which she did before even thinking about what she was actually doing. Looking to her left revealed Shampoo doing the same thing, leaving the core that surrounded Ranma at the tender age of eleven.
As Ryoga and Akane were hustled off to the dungeons by a platoon of Demoness’ that looked mad at the loss of eye-candy, Ranma let out an animalistic roar of pain before landing on his face. He was rushed by those that had eaten the mushroom, the Norns and Hild. This turned out to be a good thing as they each had a hand gripping his shirt in an effort to lift him, forgetting that there were beings around that could do so with a gesture and application of mana or phisogue as he started to phase out of the reality.
“Good BYE!” taunted Akane, having turned around in time to see the lot vanish with a thunderclap of displaced air. Feeling extra haughty now that they were gone, she dared to boss the Demons around.
Bad idea? Oh yes. They made it clear that even though she was currently the last of the Tendo’s present, she had no authority whatsoever while threatening to feed her to the Hellhounds. Ryoga took exception to this and received a similar treatment for his troubles.
“Where is he?” demanded a new voice, just before they entered the barracks that housed the only entrance to the dungeons. All eyes fell on the newest beings to come to the Fortress, taking in the red-haired woman that had spoken.
“That piece of garbage is gone, hopefully for good!” roared Akane in challenge, not noticing that the Goddesses and Demons were bowing in reverence to the newcomers.
“The Chousin!” panicked one of the lower ranked Demons, backing away in absolute terror.
“Yes, now where is our brother? Where is Chaos?” again demanded Washu, having been elected spokesperson for the group and looking none too happy.
(Potter-verse, moments after Fawkes trilled)
The air crackled with power, forcing those that could to erect the most powerful Protego shields they could while one of them managed to cast a Silencio behind the shield just in case things got loud. The power continued to build before folding back upon itself, to which there was a boom comparable to five nuclear warheads going off at once. Everything not bolted down –somehow the bed that Harry and the girls were resting on was untouched- took flight for the walls again. Every window in the castle blew out, raining glass onto the courtyards below. The noise was heard as far away as London, shortly before the ground started to vibrate from the backlash which tripped seismic alarms in buildings and cars.
Even within the protection of the Silencio the noise could be heard, thankfully toned down the point of being just a dull roar. At the epicenter of the power wash lay nine bodies, eight females surrounding one male. Fully half of the girls appeared to be eleven, one looked to be about fourteen while the others were clearly adults.
Once again the Hospital Wing was repaired to its previous condition, even though the staff asked for assistance from the parents that could harness magic to help rebuild the rest of the castle. While they were gone, the Grangers were tasked with watching over the young ones after Pomfrey gave them a transfigured stone orb that would sound an alarm throughout the property if shaken five times.
A problem similar to what Potter and the girls were going through was discovered, which was why there were now two extra large beds wide by side filled with bodies.
While the events in the waking world had been happening, inside the mind of Harry the conversation had died off. Deeper introductions had been made, as many questions as possible were answered, a few games –either muggle or magical- were played and a few conversations sprung up then died for lack of interest.
The girls watched as Harry zoned out for a while, focusing on something else to the extent that he didn’t hear his name called for a full five minutes. When he rejoined them, he told them what he’d overheard and mentioned that Fawkes was currently resting his head on the scar doing . . . something. Entertaining themselves, with help from Tonks and her Metamoph-magi abilities, they settled in to while away the time not knowing when they were going to return to consciousness.
“That hurt,” heralded the arrival of visitors, before they popped into being next to Hermione scaring the daylights out of her.
“Did somebody get the truck of the plate that hit me?” moaned one of the females, wobbling about drunkenly and holding her head and looking decidedly green.
Once the new arrivals got themselves sorted out and introductions took place, the two groups stared at each other wanting to ask questions but afraid of insulting somebody.
“So, what brings you here?” wondered Harry with the tact of Ranma, having grown tired of the silence. He had at least managed to avoid the clichéd “Well, this is different.” even if he had sorely wanted to say it.
“Dunno ‘bout what brought us here,” answered the sole male while playing with his pigtail, “but I do know that we’re older than we look. Stupid mushrooms.”
That comment resulted in a ten minute lecture on the magic mushrooms and their effects, and how only one person on the face of the Earth could even find them without trying. With a few looks it had been decided to keep certain facts, like the Norns and Hild, away from those that didn’t need to know unless it was a dire emergency. From there the conversation traveled into the realm of magic, bringing the newcomers into the know that they were rather far from home.
The two groups quickly became good friends, and time moved on. Hogwarts was fully repaired and ready to receive students in two days, yet none of those in the Hospital Wing had awoken. Dumbledore had the presence of mind to collect the needed supplies for the new term, the only thing he couldn’t get were the wands.
“OY!” shouted Ranma, having woken up to find himself buried within a cluster of females. This attracted the attention of Madam Pomfrey, who descended upon those that had been bed-ridden for almost a month. She was pleasantly surprised to see that they were all coming around, to which she made use of the recently rebuilt Floo Network to get in touch with the parents and send an owl to the Grangers.
Within moments the Wing was host to joyous parents, even said Grangers whom had used the portkey that Dumbledore had left them for this event. Just after the parents arrived the Headmaster himself came into the Wing, beard traveling behind him over his right shoulder.
Being brought up to speed on the current date and events, it was left to them to decide on what to do about entering Hogwarts. While Harry and those bound to him moved off to have a conversation, Dumbledore turned towards Ranma.
“What would you say to entering Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?” he asked with little preamble, believing that he’d thought ahead with this set of youngsters. Something had sparked this idea, and with the month he’d had to ponder on it he’d realized it was a good one. The youngsters in front of him could be useful in his plans. They simply looked at each other, and as if to answer the question the adults and teenager regressed in age before his eyes to have the same appearance as their friends. He did make note of the tattoos but decided to leave well enough alone.
“Do we even have the power?” wondered Kasumi, looking almost hopeful to have found something to do with her restored youth. She was always up for learning something new, and this presented the perfect opportunity to do so.
“Yes, you all do,” answered the Headmaster. “All of your magical cores are on par with young Harry over there, which I must say is stronger than mine was at that age.” Sometimes letting little tidbits like that out hurt, and it was only the magic twinkling of his eyes that blocked them from seeing that.
“How do we afford your school?” came from Nabiki, elected financial advisor and quartermaster as she knew the most about money and how to use it to the maximum.
“We have a fund, rarely used as it is, for those that cannot afford the tuition and supplies,” he answered, while spotting a protest forming. “It’s not a handout, more like a scholarship program. We have no problem financing those that are less fortunate or are shall we say new to the neighborhood.”
Again the looks, before as one they turned and nodded their approval to the deal.
If only Dumbledore knew just what he was about to unleash upon the school, he may have never made the offer . . .
TBC
Ah, there we go! As you can see, I spent a lot of time researching for this. It took me stumbling into the rather extensive Potter section to really get interested in adding this component, then waiting for the movies to arrive for me to get a feel for what’s there. Yes, I am aware that the movies have plot hole big enough for me to drive my truck into, as the book’s cover so much more. I guess they didn’t want a Lord of the Rings time-length motif. Bastards.
Now for the rest of the rant: I’ve been accused of going to slow with this. All I have to answer with is yer not gonna pick up a sci-fi/fantasy that has a two page intro, goes into gratuitous action and possibly sex, have romance, and a decent plot without back-building. That’s where I’m going here, canon info should be known but for the sake of the fic I have to back-build relationships so that it flows smoothly. Especially since this is an Alternate Universe piece. As for excessive scene jumping, hopefully this chapter did better in that regard.
Edit: Many probably don’t remember the original of this chapter, but I’ve come to a conclusion about the relationships that JKR attempted to set up. They blew, rather hardcore. She admits it herself that teenage angst is not her forte, and thus the entire reason behind the totally unbelievable pairings in Canon. Why I even tried to stay with that garbage I’ll never know.
Ja!
Edited in Faribault, MN