Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Shots in the Dark ❯ PCPIBLS 8 ( Chapter 8 )
[ 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: 1 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 507 | Status: Completed
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Adventure / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 10.06.2014 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 507 | 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.
Rant: None for now.
Phenomenal Cosmic Powers, Itty Bitty Living Space Arc Two Part Three
By: (Driver) Jim Ohki
“Well this has the potential for disaster,” rumbled Harry, taking stock of the situation. For the first couple of nights there had been much excitement for the predicament that his group now found themselves in. He knew that Ranma was much more comfortable, having at least some history with those that had to stay in close quarters. His own clique, as he’d heard some within the School call it, equated to something a lot closer to a band of misfits.
The excitement and general huzzah of what they found themselves in had officially worn off. The first two nights had been nice and quiet, soft conversations going on as they got to know each other better. Verbal communication had been preferred instead of ‘mind-reading’, mostly due to the human nature to hold a secret or two from their fellows. Harry himself had withheld the most, not speaking of his time before waking in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts.
“Would you stop touching me?! Why are you still touching me?!” came Hermione’s voice from the other side of the bathroom door. Harry was at the maximum distance he could be from the girls, which was about the thickness of said door. He didn’t know, or rightly care to know, whom had taken up the post on the other side.
What he did know, and rightly care about, was that the gaggle of girls did nothing close to giggle. It sounded like a fight was about to commence in the expanded changing room which was getting on his nerves. Being the nice young man he was though, he kept his comments to himself.
THWACK THUD THWACK CRASH-CRINKLE THWACK OOF THUD POW!
“Right, that tears it,” he grumbled just a little louder, before flinging the door open. For his trouble, he was rewarded with a flying loofah to the face sending him arse over teakettle with soap bubbles getting in his eyes. “ARGH! Ruddy brilliant idea Potter!”
The fight, which had started over lack of elbow room and a general want for privacy, came to a sudden standstill as the sole male of the group flopped around on the floor like a fish out of water, hands rubbing at his eyes in a rather futile attempt to get the pain to stop.
“What the devil do you think you’re doing?!” demanded Tonks from her perch on the porcelain throne, knickers around her knees.
“Dying a most painful death, what does it bloody well look like?!” was his angry reply, which compounded his problem for now he had magical soap in his mouth and throat. This led to his gag reflex tripping, spreading his dinner all over the floor. Then the yelling started. “Abso-bloody-lutely fantastic! Can’t you wankers get along for more than five ruddy minutes without me in the room?! What the bloody hell is the issue that you can’t act like civilized people about?! If your privacy means so damned much, you shouldn’t have touched my ruddy scar! ARGH!” Tirade finished, for the time being, he managed to stumble out the door leaving behind not a dry eye in the room. When the door leading to the hallway slammed closed, the girls looked at each other with wide eyes.
The last time they’d separated to just the width of the room, it had felt, to each of them, like somebody was trying to rip their spine out their chest before their magic overrode their bodies and drew them together like magnets.
“What’s all this about?” came the voice of Ranma from his door, his head poking into the shared common room. Seeing that no answer was forthcoming and noticing that they were short a member, his group headed out into the halls in search of young Harry.
“Y’know, it’s not all peaches and cream with us either,” commented Belldandy while they trooped along the second floor.
“At the same time, we’re older than we look and I dunno . . . know how to plan around a bizarre situation like this,” was the retort from the Aqua-transsexual, offering up a rare piece of insight and comprehensive thinking.
“It also doesn’t hurt that you’ve seen girls, including yourself, naked before,” chimed in Urd with a straight face. She knew the value of privacy and missed it dearly, yet had enough maturity and experience to not let it affect her to the point the youngsters as she called them did. Of course, she’d call Dumbledore a child if she could get away with it.
“There he is,” Kasumi softly intoned, gesturing to the doors of the Hospital Wing. Harry had wrapped his arms around the handles in an attempt to prevent his sailing through the halls to rejoin ‘his’ girls. The effect of this was that he was horizontal to the floor and turning red in the face from effort.
“Talk to me man,” Ranma took charge, thinking this a man-to-man conversation. He earned more than a few scowls for this, but his friends said nothing for the time being, putting it in the column of Male Bonding.
“Why me?” Harry’s voice was a mix of emotions ranging from sad to furious to general curiosity.
“Explain,” was the counter demand, as that was a very general question. For all Ranma knew the boy that was starting to grunt from exertion wanted the answer to the question of life. Taking a small amount of pity on him, Ranma lent his considerable strength to the obvious desire to not fly through the halls.
“Thanks,” was said rather weakly, before Harry heaved a sigh of frustration. “That question of mine is a rather loaded one, y’know. Why was I targeted for death? Why did the girls latch on to my scar; what reason could they possibly have had? Did they just want a piece of my fame or did they just want to touch the spot on the one person to survive the Killing Curse? Why won’t anybody see me for me, Harry Potter not the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Eternally-Tormented?”
“Easy there,” Ranma stopped the tirade that was building with each successive question. “You know as well as I do that I don’t have the answers to most of those questions. I know on your list is ‘why won’t anybody love me’ for I’ve been there myself. Pops and yer relatives would’ve gotten along spectacularly in the way they raised us. No acceptance, no excuses, no tolerance for the mistakes that all youth make no matter how hard we try, and most of all no praise for when we do good. Most of yer questions should be directed at those girls whose feelings you’ve hurt. Oh yes, they were crying when we left to find you. Talk to them, find out the why’s and above all else do your best to keep them happy.”
Those that knew Ranma were surprised at the level of depth he’d gone into in talking to Harry. He hadn’t waffled, stuttered or even attempted to dodge the topic. He knew most people thought of him as a simple rube, with the emotional range of a rock. They were the ones that never sought out Ranma for Ranma rather than some other reason, usually pertaining to something his old man did to piss somebody off.
“Let go,” Harry sounded desperate but not for the reason that he was being held in place. He realized he had somewhere else to be at that moment and was ready to face this latest challenge in life head-on. “Please, let me go.”
By way of an answer Ranma simply opened his arms and watched the boy he’d taken a great liking to sail back the way they’d originally come. Thankfully it was early enough in the morning that few if any students were roaming the halls.
“Wow,” Nabiki had to break the moment, even if she wanted to bask in it all day. That was beyond her wildest expectations of Ranma. Looking at the remnant of the Nerima Crew revealed that they were just as touched as she was that when he wanted to, or rather was given the chance, he could indeed be a very deep person.
“Enough of that mushy crap,” he reverted to his tried and tested pattern. “Food good yes, let’s go get our grub!”
Sighs of exasperation were the response to the command, but as the girls noticed it was heavily fond exasperation.
He noticed it too but elected to remain silent.
Rant: None for now.
Phenomenal Cosmic Powers, Itty Bitty Living Space Arc Two Part Three
By: (Driver) Jim Ohki
“Well this has the potential for disaster,” rumbled Harry, taking stock of the situation. For the first couple of nights there had been much excitement for the predicament that his group now found themselves in. He knew that Ranma was much more comfortable, having at least some history with those that had to stay in close quarters. His own clique, as he’d heard some within the School call it, equated to something a lot closer to a band of misfits.
The excitement and general huzzah of what they found themselves in had officially worn off. The first two nights had been nice and quiet, soft conversations going on as they got to know each other better. Verbal communication had been preferred instead of ‘mind-reading’, mostly due to the human nature to hold a secret or two from their fellows. Harry himself had withheld the most, not speaking of his time before waking in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts.
“Would you stop touching me?! Why are you still touching me?!” came Hermione’s voice from the other side of the bathroom door. Harry was at the maximum distance he could be from the girls, which was about the thickness of said door. He didn’t know, or rightly care to know, whom had taken up the post on the other side.
What he did know, and rightly care about, was that the gaggle of girls did nothing close to giggle. It sounded like a fight was about to commence in the expanded changing room which was getting on his nerves. Being the nice young man he was though, he kept his comments to himself.
THWACK THUD THWACK CRASH-CRINKLE THWACK OOF THUD POW!
“Right, that tears it,” he grumbled just a little louder, before flinging the door open. For his trouble, he was rewarded with a flying loofah to the face sending him arse over teakettle with soap bubbles getting in his eyes. “ARGH! Ruddy brilliant idea Potter!”
The fight, which had started over lack of elbow room and a general want for privacy, came to a sudden standstill as the sole male of the group flopped around on the floor like a fish out of water, hands rubbing at his eyes in a rather futile attempt to get the pain to stop.
“What the devil do you think you’re doing?!” demanded Tonks from her perch on the porcelain throne, knickers around her knees.
“Dying a most painful death, what does it bloody well look like?!” was his angry reply, which compounded his problem for now he had magical soap in his mouth and throat. This led to his gag reflex tripping, spreading his dinner all over the floor. Then the yelling started. “Abso-bloody-lutely fantastic! Can’t you wankers get along for more than five ruddy minutes without me in the room?! What the bloody hell is the issue that you can’t act like civilized people about?! If your privacy means so damned much, you shouldn’t have touched my ruddy scar! ARGH!” Tirade finished, for the time being, he managed to stumble out the door leaving behind not a dry eye in the room. When the door leading to the hallway slammed closed, the girls looked at each other with wide eyes.
The last time they’d separated to just the width of the room, it had felt, to each of them, like somebody was trying to rip their spine out their chest before their magic overrode their bodies and drew them together like magnets.
“What’s all this about?” came the voice of Ranma from his door, his head poking into the shared common room. Seeing that no answer was forthcoming and noticing that they were short a member, his group headed out into the halls in search of young Harry.
“Y’know, it’s not all peaches and cream with us either,” commented Belldandy while they trooped along the second floor.
“At the same time, we’re older than we look and I dunno . . . know how to plan around a bizarre situation like this,” was the retort from the Aqua-transsexual, offering up a rare piece of insight and comprehensive thinking.
“It also doesn’t hurt that you’ve seen girls, including yourself, naked before,” chimed in Urd with a straight face. She knew the value of privacy and missed it dearly, yet had enough maturity and experience to not let it affect her to the point the youngsters as she called them did. Of course, she’d call Dumbledore a child if she could get away with it.
“There he is,” Kasumi softly intoned, gesturing to the doors of the Hospital Wing. Harry had wrapped his arms around the handles in an attempt to prevent his sailing through the halls to rejoin ‘his’ girls. The effect of this was that he was horizontal to the floor and turning red in the face from effort.
“Talk to me man,” Ranma took charge, thinking this a man-to-man conversation. He earned more than a few scowls for this, but his friends said nothing for the time being, putting it in the column of Male Bonding.
“Why me?” Harry’s voice was a mix of emotions ranging from sad to furious to general curiosity.
“Explain,” was the counter demand, as that was a very general question. For all Ranma knew the boy that was starting to grunt from exertion wanted the answer to the question of life. Taking a small amount of pity on him, Ranma lent his considerable strength to the obvious desire to not fly through the halls.
“Thanks,” was said rather weakly, before Harry heaved a sigh of frustration. “That question of mine is a rather loaded one, y’know. Why was I targeted for death? Why did the girls latch on to my scar; what reason could they possibly have had? Did they just want a piece of my fame or did they just want to touch the spot on the one person to survive the Killing Curse? Why won’t anybody see me for me, Harry Potter not the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Eternally-Tormented?”
“Easy there,” Ranma stopped the tirade that was building with each successive question. “You know as well as I do that I don’t have the answers to most of those questions. I know on your list is ‘why won’t anybody love me’ for I’ve been there myself. Pops and yer relatives would’ve gotten along spectacularly in the way they raised us. No acceptance, no excuses, no tolerance for the mistakes that all youth make no matter how hard we try, and most of all no praise for when we do good. Most of yer questions should be directed at those girls whose feelings you’ve hurt. Oh yes, they were crying when we left to find you. Talk to them, find out the why’s and above all else do your best to keep them happy.”
Those that knew Ranma were surprised at the level of depth he’d gone into in talking to Harry. He hadn’t waffled, stuttered or even attempted to dodge the topic. He knew most people thought of him as a simple rube, with the emotional range of a rock. They were the ones that never sought out Ranma for Ranma rather than some other reason, usually pertaining to something his old man did to piss somebody off.
“Let go,” Harry sounded desperate but not for the reason that he was being held in place. He realized he had somewhere else to be at that moment and was ready to face this latest challenge in life head-on. “Please, let me go.”
By way of an answer Ranma simply opened his arms and watched the boy he’d taken a great liking to sail back the way they’d originally come. Thankfully it was early enough in the morning that few if any students were roaming the halls.
“Wow,” Nabiki had to break the moment, even if she wanted to bask in it all day. That was beyond her wildest expectations of Ranma. Looking at the remnant of the Nerima Crew revealed that they were just as touched as she was that when he wanted to, or rather was given the chance, he could indeed be a very deep person.
“Enough of that mushy crap,” he reverted to his tried and tested pattern. “Food good yes, let’s go get our grub!”
Sighs of exasperation were the response to the command, but as the girls noticed it was heavily fond exasperation.
He noticed it too but elected to remain silent.