Nothing.
Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, his usually twinkling blue eyes now dull as he gazed upon the owl that had delivered Defence Against the Dark Arts applications to his tower. The barn owl twisted its head curiously and pecked at the wood. With a sigh and a wave of his wand, Albus summoned a handful of sweets from a nearby drawer. He held a hand out, dropping the seeds on it and allowing the owl to regain its energy after a long flight. Fawkes followed suit, flying from his perch. He was nearing the end of his cycle. A fond smile reached Dumbledore's lips that didn't quite reach his eyes.
His days were stressful. With the return of Voldemort and recent rumours provided by the Daily Prophet concerning himself and Harry Potter, the applications for the 'cursed' position were even fewer than usual. He had a responsibility to Hogwarts to hire new staff, and yet it seemed as if the whole of Britain was working against him. Even the thought of the Order meetings couldn't cheer his mood.
Fawkes gave a sudden squawk, flying to land back at his perch. The barn owl flapped its wings in shock. Dumbledore peered at the fireplace calmly. An instant later, the flames that were once a bright orange turned emerald green, and a figure stepped out from underneath the mantelpiece. The startled owl flew out the window in a rush. The figure walked towards Dumbledore, limping slightly on his cane. The newcomer's body was completely covered in soot. Several of the snoozing portraits of previous headmasters woke up, gazing upon the new arrival with curiosity.
"Albus," he greeted, sitting himself down on the chair opposite Dumbledore. He placed his cane on the desk before crossing one leg over the other.
The old wizard chuckled lightly, and with a flick of his wand the soot was gone from the other's body, revealing a young grey-haired man, sporting shaded spectacles and dark green attire. Dumbledore scanned him. "I see you still dislike Floo powder, Professor Ozpin," he commented, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Ozpin smiled back at Dumbledore. "Please, just Ozpin," he replied. "I've never been too fond of that method of travel. Not safe enough for my line of work."
"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. In all the years he had known Ozpin, the man had been overly cautious of what he would use to communicate. He had never sent an owl in his life. Usually, if he wanted to pass on a message, he would apparate himself to the receiver, or, in the case with Hogwarts in particular, use the Floo network. Dumbledore was admittedly surprise to see his old friend. The last time they had spoken face to face was when the Chamber of Secrets was open once again and Dumbledore was forced to leave his school. "And what brings you here?" he asked, although he had a good guess as to what his answer would be.
The smile was wiped from Ozpin's lips. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and his chin on his hands, and frowned at Dumbledore. "I felt a shiver down my spine while in search for the Queen in the rainforests of Burma, and when I came back to Britain I heard that Tom Riddle had return," he answered, eyes darkening at the mention of the 'Queen'. "Am I correct in assuming you need my aid once more?"
"More than ever, my dear friend." Dumbledore stood up and walked towards the window, his back turned to Ozpin. "If you're not too busy, of course."
"Not at all," the silver-haired man replied. "My students will be more than willing to pick up where I left off."
"You have undeniable trust in your students. I admire you," Dumbledore remarked, observing the sky. Dark clouds loomed overhead the castle. "I have a personal favour to ask, Ozpin. Concerning Harry Potter."
He heard the sound of the chair being pulled back, and the soft clink of Ozpin's cane as he limped to join Dumbledore by the window. "And what is it that you want from me?" he asked, eyes locked outside. A few drops of rain hit the windowpane, before a downpour attacked the castle.
"Voldemort has returned, and Cornelius has gone out of his way to keep his position as minister." Dumbledore couldn't keep the disappointment out of his tone. "I fear for the boy and the school."
"Understandably so," Ozpin commented. "You seek a guardian for the boy, then?"
Closing his eyes and sighing, Dumbledore turned to his friend. He opened his brilliant blue eyes, peering at Ozpin from behind half-moon spectacles. "Yes."
"Will they be staying at Hogwarts?"
"Of course."
"Will they still be getting an education?"
"If you so wish."
"Will they be allowed their…" Ozpin paused. "Tools?"
"I see no harm in allowing that."
"Will they be allowed to attend Order meetings?"
"If you trust them," Dumbledore answered.
"Then yes," Ozpin smiled, holding out his hand. Dumbledore took it, and the two shook. The two wizards pulled their hands away and made their way back to the desk, Dumbledore sitting himself back down again while Ozpin remained standing. "And where is the Order now?"
"Number 12, Grimmauld Place."
Nodding, Ozpin backed towards the fireplace, grabbing a fistful of Floo powder. "I will have a team ready by noon tomorrow, waiting outside."
"Words alone cannot express my gratitude," Dumbledore thanked him.
"Please, don't mention it," Ozpin chuckled. He threw the powder onto the floor of the fireplace, barking, "Signal Academy!", and with a burst of green flames, disappeared. Much most of their conversations, Ozpin's meeting with Dumbledore was brief and unexpected.
Professor Ozpin was a strange man. He worked in complete secrecy, perhaps even more secrecy than Dumbledore himself. He had his own academy, built on an island isolated from the rest of the world. The academy – Beacon, was its name – was not created for educational purposes. Beacon Academy had one role to play in the world – to defend it, and uphold the peace. To do so, its students worked in the dark all over the world. Starting at the age of sixteen, the wizards and witches of the academy began attending, and very rarely did they ever leave. They were the silent guardians of the realm.
They were the perfect guardians for the boy who lived.
His fingers and toes were bleeding. He was struggling to breath at such a high altitude, and he didn't know if he could hold on for much longer. But he had to. Taiyang Xiao Long was never one to back down from a challenge, especially when there was a bet involved. No doubt Peter was far behind him at that point. He had overtaken the other boy a while ago, and all he could see was the top of the cliff-face.
With a few final pushes up, he reached over the edge of the cliff, dangling by his fingers. Grunting, he leapt up to the ground. He collapsed on the floor and dragged himself to look down, grinning smugly. The waves from the ocean below crashed against the rocks where he started from. To his dismay, Peter was nowhere to be seen. Swearing loudly, Taiyang pulled his wand from his jacket and tapped his hands and feet. "Episkey."
The cuts quickly disappeared, leaving his drying behind. Taiyang rolled over until he reached the soft grass. He slumped on the lawn, eagle-spread. The academy looked as majestic as ever, with its singular silver tower casting a shadow over him. A dense forest surrounded the school, with autumn red leaves all year round. In the centre of the island stood a monstrous volcano, forever boiling magma. It was a popular spot during the winter.
Taiyang's stomach gave a sudden growl. He groaned, resting a hand over his abdomen and using the other to reach for his wand again.
An granny smith apple landed by his side with a thud. Taiyang rolled over onto his stomach, picking up the fruit. He rested one elbow on the ground, leaning his head on it as he bit into the apple. Its contents were juicy and fresh – just the way he liked it. He peered up, smirking, and lifted his calves off the ground, bending them towards his rear. "'Sup, Oz?"
The headmaster of Beacon gazed down at him, clutching his cane. "Did you win?" he asked.
"The 'unk baile' o' me!" Taiyang whined through a full mouth. Noting Ozpin's unimpressed stare, he swallowed. "We were gonna race, and I said go, and when I got here a looked down and – nothing! Seriously!" He gestured wildly with his hand grasping the apple, as if to make a point.
"How unfortunate," Ozpin remarked. "I told Mr Port to do an errand for me while you were off climbing."
"Oz! I should've known it was your fault!" the blond exclaimed, chewing on another bite of the apple. "I always knew you would turn out to be a traitor." He grinned, waiting for the headmaster to do the same.
Ozpin stayed straight-faced. Taiyang inwardly swore.
"Mr Xiao Long, what do you know of the Boy Who Lived?"
The place stunk, that much Qrow knew. The smell of cigarettes and drunken old men filled his beak, as he scanned the bar, perched on a wooden lodge that kept the place up. With his keen eye, he saw everything that went on below. The cheaters, the con-artists, the bribery, the (his stomach still flipped at the sight) potential assaulters, none were kept secret from Qrow.
Any minute now, his target would walk right through the front door, sit down by the corner and order two bottles of fire-whiskey, one served with dragon's tongue. At least, that was what his sister told him. He had no idea what his target actually looked like, or if he was even human for that matter. Well, that mystery was part of his job.
Qrow scratched the wooden post with his talon, steadily growing impatient with each passing second. Tiny wood shavings fell down onto a man's head below. The bird ruffled his feathers.
The door creaked open, and Qrow's attention was immediately brought to it. A cloaked figure stepped through, face hidden by its hood. The bird watched with keen eyes as they took a seat by the corner.
Bingo.
Qrow flew from one post to the other, sitting directly above his target. Sure enough, the newcomer ordered two bottles of fire-whiskey, one served with a dragon's tongue. The waitress had given them a strange look, but came back with the two drinks anyway – the tongue served on the side. Qrow didn't know if he wanted his mouth (or beak) to water or retch at the sight of the dragon's tongue. That was one of downsides of intelligence work – going for hours without food.
The figure downed their drinks in no time, and shoved the tongue into their cloak. Leaving a handful of sickles at the counter, they walked out the door as quickly as they came in. Qrow followed suit, eyes locked on his target. He was thankful for his avian eyesight as the figure headed through the thick forest, in the dark no less. The figure soon reached a campsite, where the embers of an earlier fire burned underneath a pile of wood and ash. The figure sat down on a sleeping bag. Qrow smirked, jumping down behind his target and changing to his human form.
"Evening, fella," he greeted. The figure jolted, falling on their back, before rolling over and frantically crawling to away from Qrow. Alas, their escape was in vain. In swift motion, Qrow pulled his wand from his sleeve and waved, muttering the spell underneath his breath. His target stopped in their tracks as thick vines arose from the ground and tied themselves around their ankles and wrists. Qrow pulled back their hood as they struggled against the bonds.
He had captured himself an impossibly pale young man, with glowing amber eyes and razor-sharp fangs snarling at Qrow. "Vampire, huh?" Qrow remarked, brows raised. He had only seen a handful of vampires in his lifetime – unlike werewolves, they weren't exactly inclined to joining forces with a dark wizard. Raven would appreciate his find. "So, blood-sucker," Qrow stepped down on the vampire's chest with his heel, "you got a name?"
The vampire spat on his shoe.
"Believe it or not, I have some left-over garlic bread in my pocket," the Branwen lied smugly. "So either you stop being feisty with me, or I shove it down your throat. Your choice." For added effect, he reached down to his pants pocket.
"Ernest!" the vampire cried out, eyeing Qrow's hand warily. "My name is Ernest Pickering!"
Qrow smiled. "See, blood-sucker? Was that so hard?" Ernest glared at his capturer. "Alright! That's my part of the job done!" He stepped away from Ernest, clapping his hands. The vines reacted instantly, retreating back beneath the ground. The vampire gaped at Qrow with wide eyes.
"Wha – that's all?"
"Yup!" Qrow grinned. "I just needed your name."
Ernest paused for a moment before settling into a confident smirk. He lunged at Qrow with lightning-fast speeds, fangs aiming for the wizard's neck.
"Crucio."
It wasn't Qrow who cast the spell. The voice was feminine and cold. Ernest withered on the ground, screaming in pain. Qrow glanced up from the tortured vampire, eyes setting on the newcomer. Blood-red eyes, pitch-black hair, a pale complexion, tall, stunningly physically attractive just like himself. His sister had arrived.
"Raven," Qrow swallowed. Her eyes were locked on her victim, expression blank. A shudder ran up his spine. "Raven!" he shouted.
His sister jerked back her wand, peering up at Qrow while Ernest collapsed on the ground,, passed out. She flicked her wand back into her cloak. The moonlight shone on her features, her red eyes appearing to hunger. Her blank expression rested onto one of amusement. "Brother," she greeted.
"Sister," he replied, eyeing Ernest cautiously. "You didn't have to do that."
She huffed. "I save your life, and this is the thanks I get?"
"You use an Unforgivable Curse and that's the thanks you're getting," Qrow retorted.
Raven sighed, kneeling down by the vampire and placing a hand over his forehead. "Still alive."
"Ignore him."
Qrow jumped again, yelling in shock. He glared behind him with fists clenched. "Ozpin!" he snapped, heart racing. Merlin, did everyone have to show up without warning?
The silver-haired man eyed him before turning to his sister, expression sour. "Ms Branwen, I did warn you about using unforgivable curses, did I not?"
Raven crossed her arms and huffed. She glared darkly at the headmaster, red eyes blazing.
"You two are dismissed from this mission," Ozpin continued, ignoring Raven. "I have a new one for you now. One of the most importance."
The twins glanced at each other, brow raised. Typically Qrow and Raven were expected to complete every mission given to them. The missions were rarely stopped.
"What's up, Oz?" Qrow asked.
Ozpin shook his head. "It's too dangerous here. We will return to Beacon and discuss more there." He glanced down at Ernest before turning. "Ms Branwen, please take care of our little friend. And for Merlin's sake, don't use your wand."
Qrow placed his hand on Ozpin's shoulder, trying his best to not look at his sister. He heard her rustle something from her cloak before a horrible squelching. Shuddering, he glanced at her when she returned to their side, blood splattered on her hands. She touched his shoulder, and in an instant the three were gone from the scene, the decapitated vampire behind them.
Summer fidgeted in her seat, eyes darting between the headmaster and her fellow students. Taiyang Xiao Long, the loud fiery blond. Qrow Branwen, the cocky and arrogant animagus. Raven Branwen, his stoic and mysterious animagus sister.
And then there was Summer, the shy, quiet, timid girl. What an interesting cast of characters Ozpin had summoned. She pulled her hood down, silver eyes resting on Ozpin. They were all waiting for him in silence.
"This mission has taken priority over the Queen for now," Ozpin began, resting his chin on his hands and elbow on his desk. "James has volunteered his services for now. We are to focus on Potter's safety above all else. Understood?"
"Do we really need to go to Hogwarts?" Qrow whined. "I heard they don't even condone duels in the corridors."
"Unfortunately, we will need adjust to their rules," the headmaster informed them. The students, including Summer, groaned. Other wizarding schools were not as relaxed with their safety as Beacon. Damn. Summer really liked random duels, they were good practice. "We will be staying with Harry Potter until Lord Voldemort has been properly dealt with. You must not reveal any information concerning yourselves, Beacon Academy, or the Queen. And," he turned to Raven, "they will not be as forgiving as I."
The black-haired girl rolled her eyes.
"Summer Rose, I entrust the role of leader to you," Ozpin declared. "Any questions?"
Summer raised her hand. Ozpin nodded for her to speak. "Sir, why halt the search for the Queen? Aren't we close?"
A long sigh. "In truth, we are far from such. If Lord Voldemort and the Queen were to begin an alliance… I fear the outcome."
Stopping the threat before it began? Typical Ozpin. Summer nodded in understanding.
"You are expected to be at Signal Shore by midnight tonight," Ozpin finished, dismissing the students. The other three left immediately in silence (although Summer heard Taiyang complaining once they were out the door) while Summer stayed behind. She stood up, staring down at her headmaster with bright silver eyes.
"Are you sure?"
The question blurted out of her mouth before she could even think about it. Was he sure about the mission? About leaving her as the leader? About Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic? Was he sure stepping away from the Queen was the right decision?
There was a pregnant pause before the quiet answer came. "That is up to you."
Summer mused on the thought. "…I'll have to wait and see then."
Pulling her hood up again, she exited Ozpin's office, not once glancing behind her. She had a total of five hours to pack.
Five hours until her next mission began.
Hello. Welcome to another crossover, this time featuring Team STRQ and Harry Potter! I did something a lil different from my other Harry Potter xovers, in that the characters from the other universe actually live in the Potterverse.
I took a lot of inspiration for Beacon Academy from X-Men. I imagine Beacon to work behind the scenes in protecting the magic world. The Ministry is aware of its existence, but does to exert control over it like it does with Hogwarts in OOTP.
If you liked what you've read or if you have any criticisms, let me know! And if you want to see more, I have about a million other STRQ related fics on my profile. Cheers, love ya.
