Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ Chasseuse du Vol de Mort ❯ Searching ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
For those of you who don't speak French the title means, Huntress of the Flight of Death.
*NOTE* This fanfic is being written by two authors so the writing styles may differ between segments of the story and it might take a little longer for us to update since school is starting. BUT, we hope that you enjoy our fanfic and will PLEASE review. NO FLAMES!
*IMPORTANT* This is a Harry Potter and Witch Hunter Robin crossover, the story takes place somewhere between the 5th and 6th Harry Potter books and a year after the fall of The Factory (cue in creepy music) in the Witch Hunter Robin series. We hope that this will be a story that both Harry Potter and Witch Hunter Robin Fans will enjoy equally.
This is a disclaimer, sadly, neither shadowquill nor ElvenArcher0310 own Harry Potter or Witch Hunter Robin *sob!* and never will. And so, without further ado, on with the story!
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Staring out at the starry sky beyond his bedroom window, chin resting in his hands and eyes wandering amongst the clouds, Harry Potter watched as a great horned owl swooped from the moon to the house, carrying a newspaper. Ever since the Dursleys learned of his disregard for rules, particularly the ones forbidding magic outside of Hogwarts, they had allowed him to do as he pleased, providing that he didn't jinx them in their sleep. Opening the window just as a wind arose, scattering all of his loose parchments about the room, Harry let the delivery owl in as Hedwig greeted it courteously with a loud hoot. Landing on the quilted bed sheets with a gentle thud, the owl released its burden and then swooped over to visit Hedwig, leaving Harry to untie the scroll. It was the Daily Prophet, a reliable news source for the Wizarding World and most probably the only one. Harry thoughts briefly turned to Luna Lovegood and her father's magazine, The Quibbler. If any ounce of that information was accurate, Harry doubted that he'd ever maintain his sanity, something that had already been called into question by most people before his claims about Voldemort's return became publicly acknowledged as a fact. Opening the newspaper, Harry was startled to find that the cover story was not about the activities of Death Eaters or the most recent excites at the Ministry of Magic. Surprisingly, the headline news concerned an organization run by muggles intent upon hunting down and eliminating all witches or wizards deemed potentially dangerous. Perhaps the ministry had failed to completely conceal the existence of the Wizarding World, but Harry had been convinced that all who knew would have had their memories remodified. Intrigued yet unable to find any mention of why such an atrocity was permitted, Harry sighed and after glancing through the rest of the newspaper, threw it onto his dresser and lay back in bed.
Minutes later the delivery owl noticed his drowsiness, and intent upon being paid and released from his duties, began to viciously peck at Harry's hand.
"Ow! Ow! I'm getting up!” Harry sighed agitatedly as he went to the window and paid the angry bird. As the owl flew off into the night, Harry wondered what Hermione and Ron would think of the latest newsflash. He suspected that Hermione would brush it aside, unconvinced that the Ministry couldn't deal with a bunch of modern witch hunters. She would view it as a nuisance, what with Voldemort being the real threat. Ron's dad would probably be completely enthralled. "Well, isn't that something? I wonder what elaborate muggle devices they'd use to hunt us?" Harry could see Mr. Weasley in his minds eye, quivering with excitement. Although Mr. Weasley had been promoted, Harry suspected that he'd always have a passion for muggle artifacts. Turning out the light, Harry said goodnight to Hedwig and went to bed, millions of thoughts flying about in his mind.
Meanwhile...
All the members of the recently shut down STNJ were sitting around Michael who was reading up on something intriguing he had found. Ever since Robin and Amon disappeared in the crumbling factory, their friends had been searching for them non-stop. They still had hope in their friends' survival, though they found nothing. Until now...
"Michael are you sure it's them? I mean, we've been searching for them for over a year and this is like... the first lead that we've had." Doujima was pacing wildly back and forth in front of Michael's computer, unknowingly distracting him from what he was trying to do.
"Doujima, could you please stop, you're making it very hard to concentrate." Michael began to type even harder than before, thinking that maybe if he typed with more vigor he would be able to find his friends faster. Sakaki and Karasuma had been sitting in silence as the interaction between the two went on, wondering if Michael's findings would bring them any closer to figuring out where Amon and Robin were hiding. Sakaki had been playing on one of his hand-held games, trying to distract himself from the tense situation while Karasuma nervously fidgeted in her seat. Doujima had finally sat down so Michael could concentrate better on what he was doing. He had been at the computer for weeks now; it was almost like old times when he'd been forbidden to leave Raven's Flat and sat there for months on end. Except this time was different. This time his friends were missing, and instead of looking up information on their next victim he was now looking for information about his missing friends.
An hour passed and what seemed to be a lead had turned out to be nothing at all. Michael sat back in his chair with a sigh, now even more depressed since he hadn't found anything. Karasuma stood up and started walking out.
"Hey! Where're you going?" Sakaki jumped up as he asked, desperately trying to find a way to help.
"I'm going to see if I can find any clues in the rubble from the factory, since searching on foot and on the web isn't doing us any good maybe my powers will be able to tell us something." So saying she started to head out the door only to be stopped by a yell coming from Michael.
"I did it! I found something! They're alive!" Michael leaped up off of his chair and grabbed Doujima starting to spin her in circles. "I know where they are! We found them!" Doujima was starting to get very dizzy, so she asked him what he had found, hoping it would put a stop to his joyful, but nauseating embrace. "Well, they seemed to have escaped to Italy for a short period of time, I found them when they booked a pair of tickets online for a plane to London."
Flabbergasted, Sakaki looked at Michael and asked, "But, why would Robin and Amon have gone all the way to Italy, and why are they going to London?"
Michael stared at Sakaki with a condescending look, "I'm a computer hacker, not a psychic, if you want to figure that out you'll have to ask Robin and Amon yourself. All I can do is tell you where they're going."
Doujima jumped up and everyone in the room could tell she just came up with something, "Well, what are we doing sitting around here for? Lets go find them!"
Looking at her, Sakaki asked, "How in the world are we supposed to pay for the flight?" He didn't like the look in Doujima's eyes...
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Dumbledore sat in a great armchair with his eyes closed, the light from the fire adding a warm glow to his peaceful features. Fawkes resting on the back of the chair, sat crooning softly, adding a sweet melody of contentment to the dimly lit room. Dumbledore appeared to be in deep thought when two dark strangers stepped into his office. It was a man wearing a long black trench coat, an ominous attire surrounding him in mystery. The other stranger was a young lady, no older than sixteen and also was wearing all black, but unlike her partner she was not in the least a forbidding character. She appeared to have a kind and patient disposition in contrast to the man's forbidding presence. Dumbledore opened his eyes as a warm smile overtook his features.
"Welcome. I hope your journey was a pleasant one. I took it upon myself to make some coffee, as you are no doubt quite weary and could use a drop or two." Glancing at the young lady's expression as she stared at the coffeepot, a twinkle came to his eye as he added, "I hope you'll forgive my feeble memory. It seems that I've forgotten the cream and sugar..."
"Oh! It's no problem at all, sir.” the girl interjected politely. "You see, I never bother with sweeteners. I prefer my coffee black."
"My, what a coincidence! Very well." Dumbledore smiled, glancing at her silent companion. "And for you?"
Turning his cold eyes to the kind old man, he coolly replied, “Thank you, but I must decline." Smiling knowingly, Dumbledore began humming to himself, quite unconcerned with the man's serious demeanor. Pouring the coffee while Fawkes began to take an interest in a stray thread on the man's trench coat - much to his displeasure - Dumbledore continued his one-sided conversation.
"Upon reading your letter I established a teaching position for you," nodding towards the man, "...and student housing for you, my dear." nodding towards the young lady. "I am sure that both of you will find everything to your liking." Both visitors nodded in acknowledgment as the cheerful headmaster spoke to them each in turn. Sitting down at his desk, Dumbledore pulled out some paperwork. "Oh my! There it is again, my memory has caused me to forget common courtesy. My name is Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of this school. You probably already knew this, of course. However, I must know your names and it is only polite to introduce oneself first."
"Robin Sena." the girl replied warmly, clearly at ease with the headmaster. "And this is, erm... my companion, Amon." At this, the man nodded his head curtly, black, shoulder length hair falling to curtain his eyes. Nodding contentedly, Dumbledore finished their first meeting with a smile. Undoubtedly, their presence at the school would bring about great change. "Very well. There are temporary arrangements for you both to stay the night. Dobby will guide you both to your rooms, and explain the events of tomorrow. I wish you both a good night."
As they left the room, guided by a small creature with enormous eyes and a pencil-shaped nose, Dumbledore added, "If you hear loud cackling in the middle of the night, it is only Peeves, the poltergeist. I'm afraid he's rather fond of that wing of the castle. Not to worry. He doesn't usually intrude upon guests." With a final wave as they exited, Dumbledore chuckled to himself. "Usually."