So I'm not really sure if this is going to work, but hopefully it will. I've been itching to write a somewhat serious (as serious as the mighty boosh can get) crossover with harry potter. Feel free to give me suggestions, cuz I only have the first few chapters planned out.
YOU DON'T HAVE TO KNOW WHAT THE MIGHTY BOOSH IS. You don't have to know about it. But know that Vince is a very girly/a little ambiguous. look up pictures of Vince Noir and you'll understand. and Howard is a Jazz maverick. once again, look up Howard Moon. You don't have to, but it would probably help.
Pairings: Howince, Snarry.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Mighty Boosh or the Harry Potter series.
Prologue
Harry supposed that it made sense.
It was bound to happen.
Wasn't it?
That's what his uncle always said. That one day he'd outgrow his usefulness and he'll be left in the dirty streets of London, like the whore he really is.
Because that's what he is really.
That's what his uncle always called him. Yelled it, screamed it until he couldn't think of anything but the word and accept it as the truth. It was strange. Things like the prophecy he hadn't liked, but he knew they were the truth right away. He must be stupid. Yes, that must be it.
"Save the world?" His uncle had yelled when he had tried to explain in a feeble attempt of not getting hit.
"SAVE THE WORLD? I will tell you, boy, that there is only one thing you'll ever be good for, you hear me? DO YOU HEAR THAT, you FILTHY WHORE?! How stupid all you freaks are. This is what you're made for, boy. Remember that. Am I clear?" He raged, spittle flying out of his mouth. Harry had cowered in the corner, curled up in a ball as Vernon tried to yank his hair to keep his head up.
"You're a freak, Boy. Nothing but a whore. I bet all those freaks know it too. I bet you spread you're legs for them, just like you do here, boy." Harry shook his head in a silent 'no'.
"Answer this or you'll get it worse than last time. Who are you?"
Tears ran down his face.
"Harry Potter, sir." He whispered, but right away knew that was the wrong answer. Vernon had undone his belt.
"Wrong." He whispered, with a nasty glint in his eye. The belt came down with a thawk that resonated in the small space that was Harry's room. It ripped the skin and the remaining cloth of his shirt off his back in strips.
"Who are you, Boy?" This time there was no hesitation.
"Boy, sir." The belt came down another three times.
"Very good. That was your reward. Now tell me, WHAT ARE YOU?" Harry looked up with big eyes.
"A freak. That's what you are. You're a FREAK, boy, you're FILTHY, and you're STUPID, and you're a WHORE! You're disgusting." Harry was backhanded to the ground. He whimpered as he heard his uncle finish himself on the floor.
"Bet you would've loved that to be inside you, wouldn't you? You would. By the end of this night, Boy, you will." Harry was sobbing dryly. pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease......... was the chant in his mind. pleasedon'tnopleasestopidon'twanttoi'mnotawhorepleasestopstopstopstopSTOP!
And with that, Harry shattered.
***
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