First things first. Peter Pan is amazing. So is Harry Potter. This is a crossover, and I own none of those stories. I may or may not continue this. So far, I think it's rather good. A big word count too. ;-).

Right, so first chapter is A LOT like Peter Pan 2003 movie version, with a bit of the novel in there. I've copied the lines off the script which I found online, right here:

/movie_

which you can take a look at if you want. There's only a few hints of Harry Potter, but they're there and I think I've changed Wendy's age. I've also changed a few bits and pieces, so give it a read and tell me if it's good or not!

/

"Surrounded by pirates, left, right, and behind, Peter Pan took out his only weapon and means of defense, a dagger, and fought them off one by one, leaving them all groaning in pain in his path. Grinning, he turned to face the horrible, the fabled, the gruesome Captain James Hook.

"With his eyes as red as rubies, a sneer so malicious it would challenge a crafty fox, and skill with a sword that could sometimes test Peter himself, Hook was a worthy opponent. But this did not deter our hero. Looking his foe in the eye, Peter lunged for Hook, who dodged- John! Wait, this is how Peter would lunge… yes, that's better, now Michael, you have to duck… it shouldn't be hard, you're so small… that's good… now, where was I? Ah, yes… Hook dodged the blow and the two exchanged a series of parry's and feints, until finally, Peter Pan disarmed Hook, cut off his right hand- his right Michael- and fed it to a crocodile swimming below the Jolly Rodger. The beast swallowed it whole and the small wristwatch that was tied to the hand. The crocodile liked it so much that to this day, it follows Hook and his crew around the Neverland Ocean, waiting for the rest of him."

Wendy Darling stopped and clapped as her brothers, Michael and John froze in their positions upon the floor. Michael, playing Peter Pan, had his wooden sword out, poised over John who was Captain Hook. John was making a grand show with his left hand hidden underneath his shirt sleeve and was clutching at it in 'agony'.

Mrs. Darling came bustling in to get her children ready for bed.

"Where's Nana, mother?" Michael, the littlest, asked as Mrs. Darling started tugging his shirt off him.

"Your father's locked her outside again, the poor thing," she replied.

"Oh, dear," Wendy sighed as she went into the bathroom to wash and change.

"We can let her back in once you and father go to your party, can't we mother?" John asked as Mrs. Darling moved onto him.

"Yes, you may, darling, if she makes you feel safe. But do remember there are wards against muggles and I don't think any wizard or witch will pose any threat to you. And then there are, of course, the nightlights which every mother leaves behind to protect her children."

Wendy walked back into the room, "Father wants to leave soon," she said to Mrs. Darling, "He says his whole career depends on this party at the Ministry."

Mr. Darling was a part of the ministry that checked up upon Gringotts bank every week. In muggle terms, he was indeed a banker. He knew all about the cost of things, and therefore the money they had been passed down many generations in their family was sure to stay plentiful for many years to come without the pureblood family lifting a finger.

"Of course," Mrs. Darling smiled and the hidden kiss in the corner of her mouth appeared. It mocked everyone, especially their father, who never seemed to truly own the kiss, yet alone know the contents of the smallest box in her mind. It mocked Wendy, who acknowledged that someday she would also harbor a hidden kiss, and it burdened her with the expectations of her family. It mocked Michael and John who could never really figure out what that kiss meant. And it mocked their Aunt Millicent, Mr. Darling's sister, who never did have a hidden kiss, and wished with all her heart that she could be exactly like Mrs. Darling.

"Wendy, after your father and I have gone, will you let Nana in? Oh, and make sure your brothers get to sleep at the right time, thank you dear." Wendy nodded diligently at all this as her mother approached the window. Mrs. Darling set down her candle and reached up to close the window, as it was quite a cold night and not even the night lights could protect her children from a cold.

"Oh, no, mother!" Wendy exclaimed, "Don't shut it! The window must stay open tonight!"

Mrs. Darling looked at her daughter with an eyebrow raised, "Why is that, precious?"

"Because he might come back tonight," Wendy replied confidently.

Now Mrs. Darling was quite alarmed at the prospect of an unknown 'he' creeping into the nursery, harmless or not, and so she rightly demanded more information on this boy.

"His name is Peter Pan," Wendy informed her, "And he is most positively the most wonderful boy in the whole world!"

"He can even fly!" Michael cried from the floor where he and John were sketching a treasure map.

"And he fights pirates!" John added.

"With the help of the Indians and the Lost Boys, of course," Wendy reminded them, "But he does leave an awful mess sometimes, mother. Why, the last time he was here, he left a trail of leaves to the window! Don't you remember?" Wendy was a tidy child who did not stand for any sort of sloppiness.

Indeed, Mrs. Darling did recall the leaves left on the floor around a week ago. She had questioned the three children, but they had merely said that they had come from the window.

"Well he seems magnificent," she said, "To be able to fly again- oh that would be a dream." She sighed, but then said, "I remember the first time I rode a broomstick –"

But Wendy, John, and Michael shook their heads, "He doesn't fly like that, mother," they said, "He flies without a broom."

Mrs. Darling's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "I didn't know there was a branch of magic that lets you do that," she mused, "I'll bring it up to your father."

And with that, Mrs. Darling told Michael and John to go to bed soon and gave them a sweet kiss on the forehead. She also hugged and kissed her daughter, and before parting said, "Congratulations on getting your Hogwarts letter again. Happy eleventh birthday, I'm so proud of you."

With those parting words, she left the nursery with a swish of her dress to become the perfect pureblood wife at yet another of Mr. Darling's social parties.

When Wendy heard the door slam shut downstairs, she ran to the large window in the nursery to watch her mother and father apparate off the front step. She smiled and lit a candle so she may see her way down the stairs.

Wendy flung open the door to the small back garden, where Nana the nurse was tied up. Nana jumped up and barked as soon as she saw Wendy, and Wendy supposed it was a scolding for not wearing shoes or a coat as she ran outside. Nana was the finest nurse on four legs, and never let one of her three cubs get into trouble on her watch.

Wendy quickly undid the knot around Nana's collar and they both rushed inside to get away from the cold night.

But something caught Wendy's eye as she began to lock the door and she headed outside again to take a look. She held her candle up high to possibly steal a glimpse, but nothing was there. Nana's bark interrupted Wendy's stargazing and she blinked, thinking she was just seeing things and turned away again.

Wendy tucked John and Michael into bed when she saw they were still poring over that treasure map. She gave them both a hug and then hopped into bed herself and put a candle and a match by her bedside, just in case. Nana gave each of them a lick on the cheek as her way of saying goodnight, and then ducked inside of her kennel.

But as Wendy laid her head upon her pillow, she couldn't help but feel that something, something stranger than usual, would take place in the Darling household that night.

/

Peter Pan grinned as he watched Wendy finish one her stories again. Another one about him. Tinkerbelle tugged on his sleeve as Mrs. Darling walked into the nursery and he flew to the top of the roof to wait for the children to go asleep so he could retrieve his shadow.

/

Peter sat on the floor of Wendy's bed, laying the foot of his shadow against his own and then bashing them with soap. Furrowing his eyebrows when the shadow didn't melt into him, he tried again and again, and then once more. Frustrated, Peter lay down his bar of soap and started to cry. Wendy, who was quite a light sleeper, woke to the sound.

She sat up and crawled to the end of her bed. There, she saw something most peculiar. A boy, dressed in a suit of leaves, with wild hair, and – this is where Wendy pursed her lips in the untidiness of it all – bare, dirty feet! The boy looked like he hadn't had a bath in years! But, despite all this, what most caught her eye were his tears. Wendy hated tears because she was a child, and children believe that everyone should be happy.

"Boy, why are you crying?" Wendy asked, concerned.

The boy's head shot up, eyes widening at the sight of her.

He quickly stood up, and remembering his few manners, bowed down low to her.

Wendy, quite excited, scrambled up from her bed and curtseyed to him in return.

"I am Peter Pan," the boy pronounced.

Wendy nodded, "Oh, of course you must be. You have the same leaves as those left on the floor last week." She gave him a disapproving look.

"Who are you?" Peter asked. Though he already knew, it would be then polite thing to do to let Wendy introduce herself.

"My name is Wendy Moira Angela Darling," she said.

"You have a long name," Peter noted, dissatisfied. 'Peter Pan' seemed considerably mediocre compared to Wendy's.

Wendy shrugged, but then remembered something.

"Why were you crying earlier, Peter?" Wendy asked.

"I wasn't crying!" Peter insisted, "And anyway, even if I was crying it's because I can't get this useless shadow to stick!"

Wendy observed slippery, dark outline of the boy that lay next to a piece of soap.

Stifling a giggle, she said, "You can't stick it on with soap!"

Peter turned quite red and, as if to cover up his embarrassment, said condescendingly to Wendy, "Well then, how do you propose to stick it on?"

"Well, I could sew it on for you," Wendy offered.

He nodded and sat down again with his shadow whilst Wendy rushed to her vanity table to get a needle and thread. On her way back, she also turned the light up.

"This may hurt a little," Wendy cautioned, before dipping the needle into Peter's skin.

Throughout this whole ordeal, Peter made only a few cries of pain, and hardly ever moved, this impressed Wendy a great deal as she knew at the moment, she was playing the part of doctor, and he was her patient.

No children like doctors.

When she was finished, Wendy asked, "Might I borrow your knife?"

Peter withdrew the knife from his belt and hesitantly gave it to Wendy. He'd seen what the girl could do with a needle; he could only imagine what awful things she could think up with a knife.

But Wendy merely cut the thread and handed the weapon back to him.

Peter, exultant, sprang up and made sure the shadow was now forever attached.

He turned to face Wendy, and with his hands on his hips, he said proudly, "Oh, the cleverness of me!"

Wendy was quiet offended. "Of course, I did nothing," she said, rather sarcastically.

"Well, you did a little," Peter shrugged her off.

"A little!" exclaimed Wendy and she turned her back on him to go back to bed, "Goodnight."

Peter, feeling he made her upset, climbed on top of the bed, leant down and said, "Wendy? You know one girl's worth twenty boys."

"You really think so?" Wendy's muffled voice came from under the covers.

Suddenly she sat up, causing Peter to fall off. But he quickly regained his footing and composure.

"I live with boys," he replied, "The Lost Boys. They are well named."

"Who are they?" Wendy asked.

"Children who fall out of their prams when the nurse is not looking. If they are not claimed in seven days, they are sent to the Neverland."

Peter had started to look around the nursery, inspecting all their toys and props.

"Are there girls too?" Wendy mused.

Peter bent down and looked through the heart carving at the end of Wendy's bed, "Girls are much too clever to fall out of their prams."

"Peter, it is perfectly lovely the way you talk about girls," she smiled at him, and thought for a moment before saying, "I should like to give you… a... kiss.

Peter stood up and held his hand out to her.

"Don't you know what a kiss is?" Wendy asked, confused at how Peter didn't know such a simple token of affection.

"I shall know when you give me one," Peter held out his hand again.

Wendy awkwardly gave him the thimble on her finger. Peter scrutinized the metal object, smelling it and looking for some special properties it may possess. It seemed that this kiss Wendy had given him was extraordinarily ordinary. Still, he smiled in thanks and pocketed it.

"I suppose I'm to give you one now," Peter guessed.

"If you like," Wendy blushed and closed her eyes, leaning in towards him.

Peter stared at her, wondering slightly about her sanity. But then he plucked an acorn off his suit of green leaves and waved it under her nose. When she remained still, he cleared his throat, and she opened her eyes.

Taking the acorn, Wendy looked closely at it and said, "Thank you."

She decided to put it on a chain to wear around her neck and hurried to her dresser to do just that.

/

It was a short while later after Peter had told her about Tinker Bell and Wendy, in turn, had told him the ending of Cinderella.

Then, Wendy decided to show him what a real kiss was.

"Peter."

He looked up.

"I should like to give you… a... thimble."

"What's that?"

Wendy smiled and leaned in, closing her eyes. Peter stared at her, but as she began to get closer, he shut his eyes as well and copied her.

"Tink!"

Tinker Bell, it had seemed, had found her way back from wherever she had been and decided she didn't like this Wendy girl giving Peter 'thimbles' and in a fit of rage, dragged Wendy back to her bed by her hair and started knocking Wendy's head against the bed post.

"Tink! Tink, no!" Peter rushed over to snatch Tinker Bell away from Wendy.

"She's not very polite," Peter said apologetically to Wendy, and they both watched as Tinker Bell started to mime exactly what she would've done to Wendy if Peter hadn't stepped in.

"She says if you try to give me a thimble again," he translated, "She'll kill you." Peter shrugged as though it wasn't a big of a deal.

"Oh," Wendy looked quite alarmed at this prospect, "And I had supposed fairies to be charming."

She looked back at Peter who was headed toward the window.

"Peter, don't go," she pleaded, running after him.

"I have to tell the others about Cinderella," he reasoned.

"But I know lots of stories," Wendy protested, "Stories I could tell the boys."

Peter grinned as an idea suddenly formed in his mind.

"Come with me," he beckoned, taking her hand and gently pulling her towards the window.

"I... I cannot fly," Wendy slipped her hand out of his grasp and walked away slowly.

"I'll teach you," Peter implored, "I'll teach you to ride the wind's back. And away we go."

Wendy looked ever so excited at this prospect, but a thought struck her.

"Could John and Michael come too?" she asked, standing by their beds.

Peter stared at the two brothers, taking in the loud snores and the drool that was slowly slipping down their chins.

However, he directed a smile at Wendy, one that quickly disappeared as soon as she turned her back to wake the boys up.

"Michael! Michael!" she shook the youngest and then moved on to the next bed, "John! John!"

"I didn't do it," the eldest woke with a start.

Wendy took no note of this and fast explained why she had woken them so.

"Peter Pan is here," she started excitedly, "He is going to teach us to fly."

John looked at Wendy, "Wendy, while Michael and I both immensely enjoy your stories, we cannot believe there is such a thing as Peter Pan. Mother said it herself that she did not know of a branch of magic that lets you fly without a broom." Here, he looked Peter straight in the eye, "You offend reason, sir."

Michael nodded in agreement.

Peter raised his eyebrows, and with his hands on his hips, started to rise up into the air, then landed on the bar at the bottom of John's bed.

John jumped up eagerly.

"I should like to offend it with you!"

You just think happy thoughts, and they lift you into the air!" he demonstrated and then sat on the ceiling.

"It's easy."

/

Wendy stood on her windowsill, looking down upon her beloved nursery. Peter stood beside her, and noticing her look of indecision, bent down and whispered in her ear.

"Forget them, Wendy. Forget them all."

Meanwhile, down the street, Mr. Darling was introducing Mrs. Darling to Sir Edward. Everything seemed to be going swimmingly. That is, before Nana the dog burst through the door, and ran towards her owners.

"Come with me where you'll never, never have to worry about grown-up things again," Peter whispered enticingly.

Mr. and Mrs. Darling ran all the way back home, magic forgotten and led by the nurse. They flung open the door to their house, and sprinted up the stairs while a confused Aunt. Millicent shouted after them.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Wendy turned to look at the boy.

"Never is an awfully long time," she told him.

Peter grinned at her.

She smiled back.

It would be delightful to report that Mr. and Mrs. Darling reached the nursery in time.

But then there would be no story.

The parents of three missing children stared sorrowfully at the open window.

Said three missing children were having the time of their lives.