A/N: So, here we have another completely unoriginal HP/Wicked Crossover. There's a couple things I would like to mention before this story gets started, so hold tight for a few moments.
1) First and foremost, I'm interested in finding a beta reader. I would like to make this enjoyable for everyone, because with any luck, this fanfic will be around for awhile. So, anyone interested in beta-ing (is that even a word?), feel free to drop me an email at: l.birchwood gmail. com Thanks!
2) While this story begins with very happy and blissful material, as the plot thickens the story will become much, much more darker. It will deal with adult themes (which may include excessive violence, torture etc), and is not suitable for younger audiences. However, I will mark these things before they are written, so you can skip through it if you have to.
3) Lastly, though I had originally intended this fanfic to be a Gelphie, it will now be a Fiyeraba, simply because there are so many HP/Wicked crossovers featuring the Gelphie pairing that I can't hope to compete against them. However, no other pairings have been decided… so if anyone has suggestions at any point, please leave them as a review (not an email, thank you ).
That concludes my incredibly long Author's Note (I apologize), so without further ado, A Little Bit of Magic.
Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Wicked. I just enjoy tormenting the characters from time to time. Oh, and just so everyone knows, most of the Oz gang won't appear until next chapter.
A Little Bit of Magic
Prologue: Something Wicked This Way Comes/Body Language
Present Day London: Ministry of Magic
After nearly seven years, Harry James Potter had finally come to realize that when it came to reading a human being, it was always best to rely on body language. Take one of his best friends, Hermione Granger for example; whenever Hermione's mousy brown hair became bushier than usual, she was either very irritated or very uncomfortable. Therefore, as he watched the petite brunette shove her way through the crowded Great Hall (where the majority of the people had congregated), appearing as though she had recently been electrocuted, he knew to keep his mouth shut.
"You will not believe this!" she hissed, slamming her abnormally pale right fist down onto the Gryffindor table. Her beady brown eyes flashed in anger as she clenched and unclenched her jaw furiously. With a flurry of movement, she reached into her weathered book bag and withdrew a copy of the wizard newspaper, The Daily Prophet.
"Well read it," she commanded harshly, shoving the yellow papers miserably into Harry's hands. Cocking a dark eyebrow at her uncharacteristic show of anger, he allowed his green eyes to scan the front page, all the while pondering the volatile nature of females, especially during or after large periods of stress.
"The Boy Who Lived," Harry read allowed, wholly unimpressed but nonetheless unsurprised. He knew The Prophet would be itching to sink its teeth into the whole Voldemort mess; after all, up until twelve hours ago the infamous dark wizard had been the most dangerous threat to both the Muggle and Wizarding Worlds since the Dark Days of Abisinthe in the late 1300s. And despite his recent demise, at the hands of none other than Harry himself, Voldemort had left most of the world in a state of chaos- more than fifty were dead, the Ministry of Magic was in ruins, and Hogwarts lay in shambles around them.
"What in the name of Merlin are you waiting for?" Hermione screeched, effectively snapping Harry from his reverie. Harry idly realized that her hair was puffing again, much like the tail of an angered cat. "Keep reading!" she spat.
For a split second, Harry contemplated ignoring her to see just how large her hair could get, before he thought better of it. Conflict was something he had had enough of at the moment, and while an irate Hermione could be good fun on a boring day, now was most definitely not the time.
"After nearly five years of danger and uncertainties, the Muggle and Wizarding Worlds can at last breathe again," Harry read smoothly, unable to keep the tone of boredom out of his voice. "Less than twenty four hours ago, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was under siege by the many dark legions of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and thus began the battle of the ages. Uniting under the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, a last alliance of both teachers and students protected the famous school from all manner of dark creatures-"
"No, no! We know all that. Skip downwards!" Hermione interrupted, clenching her hands into tiny fists. Harry obliged, and allowed his large, green eyes to look several paragraphs ahead.
"In a final duel to the death, the Dark Lord fell; killed by his own rebounding curse. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, escaped the encounter unscathed, despite speculations that he had been murdered well before the-"
"Further!" Hermione commanded, shaking her head miserably. "Here," she said, snatching the paper from his grasp which her tiny, scratched hands. She slammed The Prophet onto the thick mahogany table, smoothing the edges before pointing at another indent in the second column.
Harry leaned forward, supporting most of his weight on his still bruised arms, and began to read from where she pointed. "As a significant chapter in the life of Harry Potter comes to an end, new questions are inspired. Will Potter join the Ministry of Magic and become, as previously hinted, an Auror? Or will he goes as far as becoming the next Minister of Magic himself? 'Not likely,' a source close to Potter surmises. 'Despite Potter's amazing achievements, he has yet to complete his magickal instruction, and as Magical Degree Number Two Hundred and Eighty Six clearly states, no uneducated witch or wizard may apply for a position in government.' While the outraged wizarding population continues to beg for Potter, the question remains: Will Potter return to complete his final year at Hogwarts?"
"See! Aftereverything we've done! Yes, this obviously applies to both Ronald and I as well!" Hermione shrieked, glaring at the foul paper with contempt. Harry blinked; despite his wishes to become an Auror, it was not as though it was his life's ambition or anything. There were plenty of respectable jobs in the wizarding world that had nothing to do with the government. Harry spoke his thoughts aloud in a desperate attempt to placate his furious friend.
"But that's just it Harry!" she exclaimed hurriedly, "there are no respectable jobs in the wizarding world that are completely independent of the government. What the Prophet said was just the beginning; any and all jobs endorsed by the government, even small businesses, require a completed Hogwarts education!"
"Um, Fred and George didn't have a full education," Harry reminded her, regretting the words the moment he spoke them. As he expected, she fell immediately silent and cast her eyes to the floor. Harry cursed his mouth inwardly as he too felt the familiar clenching of his chest. "How's Ron?" he asked quietly, after a moment.
"Not good," Hermione whispered, her temper long forgotten. Harry could see her glassy eyes begin to shine with tears. "The whole family's a wreck, Harry… especially George," she added after a moment. "They really miss Fred."
"He died, um, heroically," Harry added lamely, rubbing her back in soothing, circular motions. "Fred always said he wanted to go out with a bang; and he managed to take a few Death Eaters with him." Hermione nodded sadly, rubbing her hands absent-mindedly along the seams of her dark-wash jeans.
"How's Ginny?" she asked quietly as a single tear slipped down her rosy cheek. Harry shrugged; he had barely had any time alone with Ginny since the celebration- besides, he suspected she had been spending time with the remainder of her family. He felt a sudden urge to run to her side and run a comforting hand through her beautiful red hair.
As if sensing his intentions, Hermione pushed on his knee in protest. "No, Harry. You two will have plenty of time alone later; she needs her family right now," Hermione said, unable to stop the little tremor in her voice from surfacing. Sighing, Harry forced himself to sit back down. He had learned to trust Hermione when it came to dealing with matters of the heart; like most subjects, she was an expert. "No, not an expert," she had once said, "just a girl."
The two sat in companionable silence for several minutes, before Hermione spoke up. "Well, we can't just sit here and mope," she said briskly, standing up in one fluid motion. She brushed a number of dust particles from the creases of her black, tie front sweater, before adding, "Fred wouldn't have wanted that."
Harry had to agree with that. "Yeah, he would have said something like; don't look so grave, guys. Or- or you lot look deathly," he joked feebly, forcing a laugh for the sake of his friend. Hermione, too giggled softly, but only because she felt she had to. She laid a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder before beckoning him to stand up.
"Come on, Harry. Let's go join Neville and Luna," she said pointing towards the Ravenclaw table. Luna's tinkly laugh was audible amongst the hustle and bustle of the dining room, her silvery, blonde hair summoning them like a beacon. Harry and Hermione watched in amused interest as Neville blushed a deep red, before making their way over.
"Hello Harry, Hermione," Luna's airy voice exclaimed as they approached. Harry grinned at the Ravenclaw sixth-year; there was something about Luna that could put a smile on anyone's face.
"Hello Luna, Neville," he replied good-naturedly, sliding onto the bench next to Neville. From what he could tell, Neville too busy hiding his blush from the world to reply. Harry shook his head at the sheepish behavior of his roommate; despite wars and catastrophes alike, somethings never changed.
"We were just talking about Hogwarts," Luna informed Harry breathily, her large blue eyes fixed on the ceiling. "I heard that you, Ron and Hermione may have to return next year… is that true?" she asked bluntly.
Harry could feel Hermione tense on his right, so he rushed a quick, "Nothing's decided yet," as an answer. Luna's head suddenly swiveled as she switched her gaze to Harry.
"What's one more year compared to your entire life," she continued obliviously, "after all, 'the basis to a good career is a good education'" she quoted (from one of the portraits in the Ravenclaw commonroom, if Harry was not mistaken). Harry didn't answer- she did have a point.
"Then, I suppose I will," he said matter-of-factly, putting an end to the discussion before Hermione popped an artery. However, the more he thought about it, the more he had to agree that for the first time, Luna made very good sense. Why not spend another year in the place he loved most? After all, it was just one year; and despite a rather heroic effort twelve hours ago, he was far from experienced when it came to magic.
"Good," Luna said dreamily, dropping her gaze to the table. "I hope they serve pudding for dessert tonight," she mused randomly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I'm hungry, aren't you?" she asked.
Harry, having known Luna for a very long time, knew better than to question her odd statements; it was much easier to just nod and be done with it. "Famished," he replied, running a hand through his unruly, black hair.
"Everyone please, take their seats!" a shrill, magnified voice called out from the front of the Great Hall. A bewildered Harry looked up to see the prone shape of Professor McGonagall standing purposefully at the Headmaster's (or in this case, Mistress's) podium. She was clad in long, black robes which swirled around her ankles, and a tall, pointy hat. Despite she strict, and often blunt nature, Harry had always liked the professor and her no-nonsense persona. "Everyone take your seats, please!" she commanded again.
"Now, as you all very well know," she began, once the very full room had quieted down, "the past year has been- a difficult one, both outside andinside the hallowed walls of Hogwarts. While much has been gained, much more was lost; so let us honor those who fell to protect what they believe in. My fellow witches and wizards, please join me in a moment of silence, to remember the dead."
Harry watched as McGonagall bowed her head in remorse, and he found himself remembering the last time he had heard a Professor speak at the Headmaster's Podium. He remembered a tall, somewhat eccentric man, with a long, flowing white beard, half moon spectacles and an undeniable twinkle in his eye. He remembered Professor Dumbledore, who despite his many faults, did his best to change the world for the better.
"Thank you. And now, onto other matters," McGonagall said after a moment, her dark eyes scanning large room. Harry felt a ghost of a smile make its way across his face, and waited in a polite silence for her to continue. "As Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, I have also been charged with the duty to inform you about the newest changes in the Ministry of Magic. Twelve hours ago, Sir Kingsley Shacklebolt was permanently instated as the Minister for Magic; a post which he vows to fulfill to the best of his ability. Minister Shacklebolt aims to ensure International Magical Cooperation, which will hopefully forge a strong bond of peace between the various wizarding nations. However, it is through education that he believes that bonds of peace will be held. As many of you have come to realize, Hogwarts lies in shambles around us. The battle has destroyed a great many chambers, classrooms and invaluable texts, almost to the point that the damage is irreparable. As Hogwarts is protected by various charms and enchantments, rebuilding by magic is impossible; which leads us to the newest and most important development of all. Until such a time as the castle is rebuilt, Hogwarts School will be moved and merged with Shiz University in the County of Oz."
McGonagall paused here, allowing the new information to sink in. Sharp intakes of breath could be heard throughout the Great Hall, followed by a series of low, buzzing whispers. Before anyone could disagree, however, she continued her speech. "My friends, I understand that this development is very difficult to accept, but the fact remains that Hogwarts, at this time, are no longer suitable for teaching. Therefore, once Fall Term begins, students will be brought to the Great Hall, and then transported to Crage Hall at Shiz University by Portkey. In an attempt to better understand these new developments, please welcome Miss Helga Morrible, Headmistress of Crage Hall." With an intricate gesture of her hand, McGonagall descended from the podium, her long cloak billowing as she walked. The dining hall became tense with silence as everyone waited with abated breath, until a soft rustling, followed by the clicking of heels was heard in the shadows.
Harry eyed the new woman with scrutiny as she made her way confidently towards the podium. She was a large woman; both tall and heavy set, and she wore the most ridiculously intricate dress he had ever seen. Pearls and jewels dripped from her ears and fingers, and her white hair was piled neatly on the top of her head. "Witches and wizards," her firm, alto voice called out, as she reached the podium, "it is a pleasure to finally be among you here. I am Headmistress Morrible of Crage Hall, in the most revered county of Oz, and I am here on a mission to better improve the communication and cooperation between our worlds! It is my hope, that the majority of you will see these new changes as a blessing rather than curse, and that, with your help, we may forge the bonds of peace this universe so desperately needs. I could not be happier to teach each and everyone of you come Fall Term, and I look forward to the time we will spend together."
As the powerful woman concluded her speech, Harry became entranced by the many whispers around him. While several adults furrowed their eyebrows unsurely, the majority of the students looked pleased as punch- of course, to their naïve little minds; this was nothing more than a new adventure. Harry, too, could not help but fantasize about a place where no one would know his name… it was heaven, to put it simply. "What do you think?" he whispered to Hermione, unsure of what to expect.
Surprisingly, he found her already grinning in his direction. "Oh Harry, it's such a wonderful opportunity! Imagine, all of the new people we'll meet. Oz is a newly discovered continent you know, situated just passed the North Star and directly above the Thousand Seas." Harry cocked his eyebrow curiously; what the devil had she just said? Across the 'Thousand Seas'? It sounded like a children's story!
"So, you're in then?" he asked, to confirm his suspicions. With a great nod of her not-so-bushy hair and a radiant smile, he got his answer. Suddenly, however, her face fell, and her grin retreated.
"My parents…" she whispered longingly, her eyes closing in guilt. Harry sighed; she had mentioned that she had Confunded them nearly a year ago and sent them to Australia, but she rarely spoke about the details. "I'll have to retrieve them before I go; I have to know they're all right."
Harry nodded in agreement, before adding a small, "Me and Ron will come with you. Ginny, Luna and Neville will too, if they can manage it. Say, do you think Neville's going to retake seventh year at this… Shaz place?" he asked doubtfully. It was hardly a secret that Neville disliked school; although he tried very hard, he rarely saw results.
Hermione looked at him as though he was very dense. "In case you haven't noticed Harry, he's completely smitten with Luna. I can guarantee you that if she goes, which I'm sure she will, he'll be only too eager to follow." Once again, Hermione proved herself to be much more adept in the area of reading emotions that he was. "Oh don't trouble yourself with it Harry," she said, reading his mind. "Boys are all the same. I still stand by what I said in the fifth year: they have the emotional quotient of a teaspoon."
Harry laughed aloud, catching quite a few glares thrown in his direction from nearby parents. Oh Merlin… even that Morrible woman was looking in his direction. He suddenly found his nail beds to be very interesting, as he looked from his hands to the floor.
"Up for a new manicure, Potter?" a snide voice asked from nearby. Harry whipped around, coming face to face with none other than his nemesis, Draco Malfoy. Now that Voldemort was gone, Harry reasoned, there was nothing left to distract him from beating the smug little git to pulp.
"I dunno Malfoy, You up for a hair wash?" Harry quipped back, glaring at the greasy, bleach blonde strands of Malfoy's hair. Malfoy sneered in return, his pale, pointed face contorting into an ugly mess.
"Put your wand where your mouth is Potter. We'll settle this next year," Malfoy said, smirking. "You see, despite my father's connections Potter, I missed most of last year as well, so I have to retake it. But, it seems you do too. It's good to know that Potty isn't exempt from all the rules. Must be hard for you, eh Potter? Not being treated any differently?"
"The only thing your father's connections could get you now, Malfoy, is a one way ticket to Azkaban," Harry replied, answering Malfoy's malicious grin with one of his own. The Malfoy name meant nothing now; everyone knew the entire family was nothing but slime.
"Think you're so smart, Potter?" Malfoy snarled, taking the bait. The blonde boy made to withdraw his wand, but found himself facing the business end of Hermione's. With a sharp intake of breath, Malfoy dropped his hand to his side.
"Twitchy little ferret, aren't you Malfoy?" she asked meanly, reminding him of his embarrassing little encounter with a mad Death Eater in the fourth year. "Clear off," she commanded, placing her delicate hands on her hips. Sneering, Malfoy's beady black eyes landed on Goyle, before he strutted off.
"I can't believe that bastard's repeating too!" Harry swore, pounding his fist against the table. Smarmy coward had already forgotten that Harry and Ron had saved his life numerous times over the last twelve hours…
"Whoa, what's got you all uptight mate?" a curious voice asked from across the table. Harry looked up gratefully, his eyes falling on the tall, lanky form of Ronald Weasley. Despite the puffiness around his hazel eyes and the untidiness of his red hair, Ron looked as happy as ever.
"Malfoy," Harry spat, hardly noticing the way Hermione scooted over to Ron's side. Their new relationship was nothing unexpected; Harry had suspected that they fancied each other for years. The only difference now (according to Hermione, of course) was that it was 'official'.
"Ah," Ron said knowingly, and then with a self-conscious blush placed his left arm around Hermione's shoulder. "I suppose he's coming along next year then, eh?" Ron asked, cocking his eyebrow as Harry's head shot up in surprise. "What, you think I didn't hear the whole speech that Morrible woman was giving? Personally, I believe it's utter BS, but you shoulda heared Mum: 'Ron, what a wonderful opportunity,' 'Ron, you never had a chance to finish your education,' 'Ron, you're going and that's that!'" he mimicked, raising his voice by an octave.
Harry smirked as Hermione turned pink, and buried her face in Ron's maroon Quidditch jersey look-alike, recognizing her exact words from before. Ron looked bewildered, but shrugged away his doubts by running a large hand through her mousy hair. "So, it's decided then," Harry stated calmly, "we're all going?"
"Yeah course," Ron agreed, chuckling as Hermione merely nodded an affirmative.
"Definitely," came the dreamy voice of Luna, whom, Harry only just realized, had been listening the whole time. She smiled happily and fondly fingered one of her large orange earrings, which today were in the shape of tabby cats. "And Neville's going too, aren't you Neville?" she asked obliviously.
"Yeah, my Gran wants me too," he mumbled unconvincingly, the baby fat on his cheeks turning a brilliant shade of pink. Hermione surveyed Neville skeptically, but with a pointed look from Harry, let her accusations lie.
"We're allgoing," a firm voice chimed in. Harry felt his lips twist in a large grin as the flaming red hair of Ginny Weasley glinted in the soft light of the candles. Rushing to his feet, he swept her into a short but passionate kiss, before pulling her onto his lap. She giggled softly as he began to tie her hair into loose knots, having never fully grasped the concept of 'braiding'.
Harry smiled happily as the soft traces of Ginny's flowery perfume wafted up his nose. It was relaxing; a miniature escape from everything that had happened in the last day and a half. Yet, despite the aching pain he still felt, as Harry looked from the awkward Ron and Hermione, to the blushing and oblivious Neville and Luna, and finally into, the soulful, green eyes of his girlfriend, he knew that for the first time in seventeen years, everything was as it should be. Everything was perfect.
Yes, I know that was rather unexciting, but I tried to give an overall picture of what had happened in the seventh book for those of you who don't know, or don't remember.
Coming Up Next: Assemblies and speeches in 'The Hallowed Halls of Shiz'