Author's Note:
The Professor: Hello, and welcome to Ambrose the Book-Wolf and the Torchwood Professor's story, "Strange Weather" - which is our Hallowe'en one-shot crossover between Harry Potter and Torchwood.
Ambrose: Indeed, and I'll be doing the disclaimer. Ahem . . . Harry Potter and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Harry Potter universe are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, and of course all those guys at Warner Bros. who do the movies probably own a bit too. Torchwood and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Torchwood universe are the intellectual property of the BBC and the various editors and writers, ect. Any and all other references to outside TV shows, movies, cartoons, books, etc, are not in any way inclined toward encroaching copyright. Right, now that's done - Professor?
The Professor: Yes, now that's done, we'll just warn you - this story will take place in 1989, and specifically on three days - the first part on Hallowe'en 1989, then the fifteenth of November 1989, and finally Christmas Eve 1989 - there's nothing in the dates, really - we just like the numbers.
Ambrose: And you won't have to worry about pairings. And on we go.
(Chapter Start)
31st October, Hallowe'en 1989 - 7:31:45:001 P.M
--
The thing about spiders, reflected Harry James Potter, as he sat in his cupboard on Number Four, Privet Drive, Surrey, is that they're really just cowards. And it was true - every spider always ran away from him, no matter how gentle he was with them. Just like those men in the funny cloaks always ran after his friends scared them away - they always looked after him, he was special to them. Especially Jasmine - she quite liked him.
"Isn't that right, Jasmine?" said Harry, as he herded a spider from beam to beam in his cupboard, without even looking. "You're my favorite, Harry, and you know it." Harry smiled, and ran his thumb over the red rose petal that they'd given him yesterday. It didn't smell so nice anymore, but Harry didn't mind - it certainly brightened things up in here.
"So when can I leave? You said I could go soon." "By Christmas, Harry - think of it as your present - " "My first present ever." Harry said dreamily, staring right through the spider, which he'd managed to crush - ah, who cared? - and Jasmine replied, almost feverishly " - yes, yes, your first EVER present - and you'll love it, you really will - being with us, you'll never be alone, my Chosen."
Harry nodded. They were ever so nice to him, the fairies - always looked after him, talked to him - they'd even tripped over Vernon once, after he'd hurt Harry - "FREAK!" UNCLE, "VERNON!" CRUNCH and there was red paint everywhere, Harry didn't know Uncle liked painting - "So Christmas is when?" "It's just two months, not even that really - and you'll be out."
Harry liked the sound of out very much.
--
5th November, 1989 - 11:22:06:027 A.M
--
Harry quite liked the garden too - it was the only place he and Jasmine and all the Cotts could talk.
But it seemed like he couldn't talk today - Aunty Scaredy Pet was leading some man with a weird smell about him out of the back of the house, and he looked like he wanted to talk with Harry - no-one else ever talked with the fairies, and they never talked to anyone else, so that was good.
The man was listening to what Aunty was saying, and Harry frowned - he didn't want to talk to any man who listened to Petty Scaredy Aunty, and certainly not when he was interrupting Harry and Jasmine and the Cotts talking. He watched the man warily, not recognizing the man who he'd once thrown up on, and who he didn't like anymore.
The man and Aunty separated, with Aunty sending a scared glance at Harry, which filled him with merriment - she knew that at night, Jasmine and the others would come and talk with her, and it'd all be alright. The man continued on, with Aunty going back to look after Duzdey, as Harry called him - he always coughed a lot when Harry was around, like he'd gotten a lot of dust in him, and Harry remembered the petal Jasmine had given him a few months ago.
The man sat down next to him, and looked like he'd quite like to talk, but couldn't get the words out. Harry ignored him, instead using his glasses to follow the ants with the light - he liked the smell it made, reminded him of mummy and daddy oh so long ago, and he looked at the man all of a sudden.
"Hello." Harry said, smiling beguilingly at the man, who was smiling back at Harry, ignorant of what Jasmine was saying - "he's wrong, he's going to take you AWAY from us, stop him, give him ALL YOUR petals, Harry listen - ". "Harry, do you remember who I am?" the man said, looking hopefully at Harry, and Harry replied. "Of course I remember you." He did, too - this was the man who'd killed his parents, one of the Cotts had said so.
The man smiled again, his aged appearance seemingly to fall away with the expression. "Oh, Prongslet - " Harry cut him off here, still smiling and looking the man in the eye, who began to feel uneasy, and so he should, thought Harry. "You killed them, didn't you?" The man's expression only made Harry's smile widen.
The man began to talk, the expression still on his face, but Harry touched him, and he began to choke, spilling the petals all over the floor, how messy he was! Harry bowed to him, and the man could barely see him, a curtain falling over his vision, and the last thing he heard was, "No need to speak, Mister. I think we all understand each other, don't you?" He got up, brushing some of the petals off of his trousers.
He didn't like a mess - not really.
--
24th December, Christmas Eve, 1989 - 9:31:51:173 A.M.
--
Marjorie Dursley was never the most compassionate woman in the world, and the death of her brother only three months ago had hardened her. Which is why she opened the day's paper with her slippers upon her blocks of feet, and with a teacup in her hand (the saucer on the floor, with some of the brew being lapped up by her newest pup Ripper), and did not react at all to the news that Petunia and Dudley Dursley had been found dead of asphyxiation.
" . . . - the nephew that neighbors state had lived in the house since 1981 has, as of yet, not been found, and the corpse of a twenty nine year old male (found in the garden of the property) would seem to indicate that the boy has been killed and the body taken elsewhere. All of this seems to say that the murders was pre-meditated, said Police Chief Davies this afternoon, and we are investigating several leads at this point - a number of rose petals found at the scene has been recognized as the hallmark of a murderer previously thought active in Wales, and we are liaising with a special operations group in order to catch the killer -"
--
Some time, some place
--
Jasmine and the Cotts watched as Harry flew gracefully in their favorite place on this planet - Cottingley Woods - and smiled. They loved it when a plan came together.
"Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand."
Harry sung as he flew, his fairy wings beating in time to his rhythm.
The one who got away, said the Wizarding World of their saviour.
(Chapter End)
Ambrose: So - what do you think? Our first one-shot, so do keep it in mind we are new at this.
The Professor: Quite. Now, make sure you read and review - we need all your feedback so that we can improve. See ya guys!