A/N: I HAVE NOT ABANDONED ANYTHING AND CURRENTLY HAVE WRITERS BLOCK ON WSI SO I'M TRYING TO WORK THROUGH IT.
DON'T BOMBARD ME WITH REQUESTS TO UPDATE PLEASE AS I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF MOVING STATES AND SO AM STRESSED.
THE ONLY REASON THIS IS BEING POSTED AT ALL IS BECAUSE I COULDN'T STOP ONCE I STARTED AND YEAH.
STUFF.
(On to another thing…)
First attempt at this sort of x-over (Anime sort of sucked me in) and I noticed there weren't any others like this in the genre, so here's my own twist to a HP/SE x-over~!
ENJOY~!
Prologue
Harry had grown up being belittled and cursed and starved of both food and positive attention by his mother's sister's family in Death City. By the time he was old enough to enroll in the Death Meister Weapon Academy, he had gotten used to being back in the shadows, to never standing out, because doing so would only be worse for him. As a Weapon, however, this was not something most young Meisters, looking to create a Death Scythe, to stand out, wanted. His cousin, Dudley, a large, mace-like Weapon, was immediately partnered with his long-time friend, Piers Polkis, who, while a reedy looking Meister knew Dudley well and was of an equally blunt mindset.
Harry spent years at DMWA as a wraith, hidden away and unimportant, average in his ways while others rose and fell, quietly completing his work and missions.
Until the day he found an Upperclassman Meister trying to bully a first year Weapon into seeing to his "personal needs", despite her terrified, and angry, denials.
It was only then that Harry stood out at all, because, despite his meekness, his wallflower tendencies, there was one thing inside of him that could be riled to the point of violence with relative ease.
And that was his Protector's Soul.
Chapter One: A Protector's Soul
The Wallflower Has Thorns?
"I said no!" A young girl's voice cried out, a mixture of angry and scared, making the short, lithe male who had been turning down that hallway pause, blinking bright green eyes behind bottle-lens glasses blink and lift from the floor, pushing chin-length black hair out of his face. A young first-year Weapon, no more than twelve or thirteen, with short brown hair and tearful gray eyes, was trying to desperately pull her wrist from the hold of an Upperclassman Meister, his own Weapon lounging nonchalantly farther down the hall, keeping an eye out for teachers.
"Aw, come on, cutie, I'll make it so good for you," the Upperclassman leered, before trying to kiss the girl, who struggled harder.
"I said no, you creep!" The girl shouted, before she lashed out at his face with her free hand, the length of her arm turning into fist-sized steel ball on the end of a chain. The steel ball collided with the Meister's face with a nasty thunk, sending him staggering and forcing him to let go of her arm. She backed up immediately; nervously watching him as his Weapon swiftly joined him with a thunderous look.
"You little bitch," the Meister snarled, and the observing teen narrowed his green eyes and stepped forward, out of the shadows.
"That's enough," he said quietly, his slightly-hoarse voice cutting though the tension in the hallway. The girl looked over at him in fearful hope, and he pushed his glasses quietly back up the bridge of his nose. The Meister sneered viciously at him.
"What are you going to do about it, weakling?" He demanded, sneering cruelly. "You're just a Weapon without a Meister, and one that's never seen true battle, either! Izo and I could kick your ass blindfolded!" The black-haired teen didn't twitch, staring at him with hardness in his eyes that had never been there before.
"Then you wouldn't mind making it an official fight, would you?" He asked coolly. "You know, with a teacher to referee and everything, not this pathetic hallway bullying." The Meister snarled, before straightening with a smirk.
"Of course not, Reject. Why don't you send your little cunt out to get one right now, and we'll settle this like men, hmm?" The teen shifted one shoulder up in acquiescence and gently gripped the girl's shoulder, pulling her farther away from the Upperclassmen.
"What's your name?" he asked her softly.
"Ruri," she muttered, glancing back and forth between him and the Upperclassmen.
"Well, Ruri, could you go and get Dr. Stein and ask him to referee this fight at the front of the school? Tell him Harry Potter requests him, personally," the teen murmured kindly, smiling down at her gently as she nervously nodded. "Thank you." Immediately, the girl set off, and Harry soon found himself standing outside the doors to the DMWA, facing the Upperclassmen, with the newest Staff member, Doctor Franken Stein and a crowd of curious students.
"Let's get this started, then," Dr. Stein said in his unconcerned way, absently turning the large screw stuck in his head, green eyes bored behind his glasses, pale blond hair ruffling in the breeze and exposing the stitches holding his face together. "The fight between Second Class Meister-Weapon Team Arashi and Izo and Second Class Weapon Harry Potter, Begin."
"Izo!" Arashi barked; with a nod, the Weapon transformed in a flash of light, turning into a long, wicked Pike, serrated blade gleaming blue-green at the end of a deep red staff. Arashi spun his partner expertly above his head, smirking. Harry lowered his head slightly, watching the two over the rim of his glasses, before relaxing his firm grip on his Soul Wavelengths, becoming immediately incased in a large sphere of lime green, the top of it spiking up this way and that, mimicking the messiness of his long hair.
"Let's see what you've got, Reject!" Arashi, who did not have the unique ability to see Souls like some Meisters, didn't notice the sudden rise in power around the other student. Harry lifted his head suddenly as Arashi charged with a yell, Izo swinging through the air with deadly accuracy born of long practice. Green eyes flaring brightly, Harry glared.
"Soul Resonance," He intoned sharply, and the sphere around him brightened and grew abruptly, massive strength rising up from within him as he began to nimbly dodge and duck the Meister and his Weapon, until, suddenly, he stilled, body sideways, allowing Izo's blade to slice through the air barely an inch away from in, stopping barely a foot from the ground. Everything stilled, though the watching students couldn't figure out why. All they could see, was Arashi's huge, stunned eyes, and a sliver of Harry's hardened visage.
"Yield," Harry intoned coldly, quietly. A tremor shot through Arashi's body, his teeth gritting furiously.
"You bastard," he hissed, even as his Weapon confusedly called his name, demanding action.
"Yield," Harry repeated, eyes narrowing, "or you won't have anything to threaten young girls with again." It was only then that the observers noticed that one of Harry's hands had transformed into a thin, sharp blade, and was pressed through the clothing of Arashi's pants, right at the groin, and undoubtedly pinching the flesh hidden from view. When Arashi remained stubbornly silent, Harry shifted ever-so-slightly, and the Meister yelped sharply and started to jerk back, only to find himself held in place by the front of his shirt.
"Yield," Harry demanded harshly, and observers noticed blood beginning to spot the Upperclassman's pants front.
"I yield, alright!" Arashi shouted, voice a few octaves higher than usual. Immediately, Harry released him and stepped back, lifting his hands into the air, returning the blade to flesh, dropping the Soul Resonance and returning the controlled hold he usually had on his Soul Wavelengths.
"I hope this experience has taught you a lesson, Arashi-sempai," he announced calmly, clearly, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "When young women turn you down, you do not force their compliance." He shifted his green eyes to meet Dr. Steins, before giving the Upperclassmen a nod and turning to walk away. Arashi snarled, silently gnashing his teeth.
"You cocky little fuck," he snarled, before lashing out with the still-transformed Izo, aiming for Harry's unprotected back.
"Harry-sempai!" Ruri's voice shouted out, to no avail as the blade struck-
And hit nothing, Harry's body disappearing into wisps of shadow.
"Wha?" Nearly everyone exclaimed; Arashi blinked stupidly for a few seconds, gawping at the space that the Weapon had been standing, just moments before.
"What the Hell?" Izo's voice echoed from the Pike.
"Kill one man, you are an assassin," Harry's voice drifted through the air, coming from all directions, as difficult to pinpoint as catching the wind.
"What the-! Where are you, you little shit?!" Arashi shouted, spinning around aggressively, trying to find the illusive teen.
"Kill millions, you are a conqueror." The disembodied voice continued coldly. There was a flicker at the corner of Arashi's eye, and he whirled, eyes huge and chest heaving, thoroughly unnerved.
"Kill everyone," Harry's voice whispered harshly, dragging through the air like nails on a chalkboard, raising the hair on everyone's necks and arms, "and you are a god."
"I can't pinpoint his Soul!" A blond Meister standing next to Dr. Stein with a white-haired, shark-toothed Weapon, breathed as the crowd watched Arashi thoroughly deteriorate into panic, lashing out around himself wildly, wielding his Weapon more like a club than a Pike.
"It's alright, Maka," Stein told her, eyes half-lidded as he watched the panicking Meister. "Mr. Potter is a unique specimen. His self-control is a thing of genius, mastered to the degree that he can hide even from the strongest of sensors. If he had any true ambition to rise above the crowds, he could have very well been a Death Scythe already." Maka and her Weapon both gave Stein startled, disbelieving looks.
"So, this guy's really strong, right?" A short, spiky blue-haired Meister asked with a sharp grin, the star-shaped mark on his right shoulder pale compared to his dark skin. The tall, mature Weapon standing a bit behind him, her long black hair in a high ponytail, with a yellow star sewed onto the right breast of her pale yellow outfit, shifted slightly in anxiety, blue eyes concerned yet curious.
"In a way, he is stronger than even me," Stein told them in his calm, factual way, stunning the four.
"But, then why…?" Maka asked softly, only to be interrupted as Harry's voice once again spoke.
"Feel the kiss of the Mercygiver," he intoned, and, suddenly, he was there, rising up from Arashi's shadow, eyes hidden by his hair, hand once more that long, narrow blade, which he slid straight through the older boy's shoulder like a warm knife through butter, making blood spew forth in a red fountain, and Arashi give a short, aborted scream of terror and pain, before Harry's free arm slammed into the back of his head, knocking him unconscious. Immediately, Izo transformed back into his human form, crying out his Meister's name, as Harry shifted his hand back and started walking towards Dr. Stein. He stopped next to the eccentric Meister, ignoring the wide-eyed curiosity of the other students.
"I never took you for having a flare in dramatics, Mr. Potter," the Meister commented in his dry way; Harry tilted his head slightly, the bright green of his eye showing clearly past the side of his glasses.
"Oh?" was all he said; Steins lips curled up slightly in a faint smile.
"You could have ended this at the beginning; you didn't even have to release your Soul Restraints to do it." Harry didn't say anything, tilting his head back and staring upwards, face calm and relaxed as he took in the mockingly-laughing sun high above them. After a few moments, he finally spoke.
"Someone once said, staying quiet doesn't mean I have nothing to say, it means I don't think you are ready to hear my thoughts." He continued to stare upwards for a few moments, before turning and giving the teacher a small smile, green eyes warm. "Maybe it's time to start making noise, hmm?" He shook his head slightly, still smiling, before walking away. "See you in class, Dr. Stein," he called over his shoulder, hands in his pockets as he strode away, Ruri soon attaching to his side like a limpet, recounting the entirety of the fight excitedly, like he hadn't been there at all.
'That boy,' Stein thought, an edge of fondness coiling around the thought. 'What a strange, strange boy.' And, as he sent his students back inside, and Sid lifted the unconscious Meister who would be expelled at the end of the day for Sexual Harassment and Attempted Sexual Assault, the good Doctor couldn't help but wonder, what it would be like to dissect a boy like Harry Potter…
Ah, well.
Maybe some other time…
A/N: And there you go. This is a TRIAL RUN, so I may/may not update this in a long while. It just got in my head and got stuck there. The Timeline is maybe a week after Kid joins the Academy (he was on assignment during this chapter. Deal with it).
Harry's Weapon Form: A Mercygiver, which was a long, thin blade used in Medieval times to provide "Mercy kills" on the field. It was thin enough and long enough to fit through the narrow slats on a downed Knight's armor, giving them quick deaths. If I continue this fic, any forms he manages to gain will follow along that line, an exception being one defensive form.
Ruri's Weapon Form: I don't remember the name right now, but I think they're called Hobblers or something. Two heavy balls at each end of a long chain, spun over the users head and thrown, to wrap around the enemy's legs/arms/head, knocking them to the ground and restraining them or killing them (depending on where they're hit).
R&R~!