Raising Hell at Hogwarts
A Hellblazer/Harry Potter crossover
By: Mozphoto
Helblazer is owned by Time/Warner/AOL/DC/Vertigo (that is a mouthful, innit?). Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling.
Chapter 1: Teaching Dudley a Lesson
It was nearing the end of the summer holidays and Harry was (as usual) looking forward to finally getting away from the Dursleys again and getting back to school, to begin his sixth year at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. But on this night, he had to do some teaching. The person on the receiving end of tonight's lesson was his cousin, Dudley.
Dudley, a pig by even the kindest description*, had decided to now graduate to being a racist pig. Harry had overheard Dudley and his gang, the previous night, planning to vandalize the house of the elderly, Jewish couple that had moved into Little Whinging at the beginning of the summer. Harry was not only planning to make sure they didn't succeed, but also that they never thought of trying to do such a thing ever again.
And so, on a warm summer's night, Harry kept to the bushes, clutching the bag of dung-bombs Fred and George sent him for his birthday, waiting for Dudley and his cronies to arrive. When they did show up, Harry decided that he would wait until the last possible moment before they began spray- painting then hurl the dung-bombs into their faces.
And here they came. Dudley in the lead, spray-paint can at the ready. However, before they had even made it halfway to the Epstein's doorstep, a man stepped out of the shadows in front of them. Or did he? Harry immediately realized something was wrong, because there weren't really any shadows there any more. It seemed as if the shadows had come into existence just long enough for the man to step out of them and then, they were gone. He obviously hadn't apparated, because there wasn't the usual loud crack that one heard when a wizard apparated.
Dudley and his friends stopped and stared at the stranger. He was slightly taller than average, blonde, wore a tan trenchcoat, and was smoking a cigarette.
"Hullo lads," the stranger said in a lazy, Liverpool accent, "out for a bit of brainlessness, are we?" He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke into Dudley's face. In the split second that Dudley had closed his eyes against the smoke, the stranger had snatched the spray can out of his hand and sprayed the black paint into Dudley's face.
The stranger laughed softly as Dudley ran back to the Dursley's with his friends. When they had gone around the corner, he turned to the bushes Harry was hiding behind. "You want to come out now kid?"
Harry stood up. As soon as he made eye contact with the stranger, the scar on his forehead began to prickle in a way he'd never experienced before. His hand shot up to his scar and he dropped the dung-bombs. One landed right at the stranger's feet and exploded.
"Oh bugger! Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean this coat?" The stranger grabbed Harry by the earlobe and dragged him down the street. "Bloody Dumbledore and his bloody favors!" the stranger muttered.
When they had reached the corner, he released Harry's ear. "Right! Get your ass home right now and don't put so much as another toe out of line or else!" The stranger turned on his heel and stalked away.
As he disappeared into the night, Harry heard him say, "Bloody hell, I'm already sounding like a fucking teacher!"
*In fact, six years ago, Hagrid had attempted to turn Dudley into a pig, but had only succeeded in giving him a pig's curly tail.
By: Mozphoto
Helblazer is owned by Time/Warner/AOL/DC/Vertigo (that is a mouthful, innit?). Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling.
Chapter 1: Teaching Dudley a Lesson
It was nearing the end of the summer holidays and Harry was (as usual) looking forward to finally getting away from the Dursleys again and getting back to school, to begin his sixth year at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. But on this night, he had to do some teaching. The person on the receiving end of tonight's lesson was his cousin, Dudley.
Dudley, a pig by even the kindest description*, had decided to now graduate to being a racist pig. Harry had overheard Dudley and his gang, the previous night, planning to vandalize the house of the elderly, Jewish couple that had moved into Little Whinging at the beginning of the summer. Harry was not only planning to make sure they didn't succeed, but also that they never thought of trying to do such a thing ever again.
And so, on a warm summer's night, Harry kept to the bushes, clutching the bag of dung-bombs Fred and George sent him for his birthday, waiting for Dudley and his cronies to arrive. When they did show up, Harry decided that he would wait until the last possible moment before they began spray- painting then hurl the dung-bombs into their faces.
And here they came. Dudley in the lead, spray-paint can at the ready. However, before they had even made it halfway to the Epstein's doorstep, a man stepped out of the shadows in front of them. Or did he? Harry immediately realized something was wrong, because there weren't really any shadows there any more. It seemed as if the shadows had come into existence just long enough for the man to step out of them and then, they were gone. He obviously hadn't apparated, because there wasn't the usual loud crack that one heard when a wizard apparated.
Dudley and his friends stopped and stared at the stranger. He was slightly taller than average, blonde, wore a tan trenchcoat, and was smoking a cigarette.
"Hullo lads," the stranger said in a lazy, Liverpool accent, "out for a bit of brainlessness, are we?" He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke into Dudley's face. In the split second that Dudley had closed his eyes against the smoke, the stranger had snatched the spray can out of his hand and sprayed the black paint into Dudley's face.
The stranger laughed softly as Dudley ran back to the Dursley's with his friends. When they had gone around the corner, he turned to the bushes Harry was hiding behind. "You want to come out now kid?"
Harry stood up. As soon as he made eye contact with the stranger, the scar on his forehead began to prickle in a way he'd never experienced before. His hand shot up to his scar and he dropped the dung-bombs. One landed right at the stranger's feet and exploded.
"Oh bugger! Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean this coat?" The stranger grabbed Harry by the earlobe and dragged him down the street. "Bloody Dumbledore and his bloody favors!" the stranger muttered.
When they had reached the corner, he released Harry's ear. "Right! Get your ass home right now and don't put so much as another toe out of line or else!" The stranger turned on his heel and stalked away.
As he disappeared into the night, Harry heard him say, "Bloody hell, I'm already sounding like a fucking teacher!"
*In fact, six years ago, Hagrid had attempted to turn Dudley into a pig, but had only succeeded in giving him a pig's curly tail.
