Disclaimer: Everything in here belongs to J.K. Rowling and Thomas Harris. Let them fight over what's what.

A/N:

This idea popped into my head and I just couldn't let it rest. Personally, I'm not too fond of crossovers, but somehow this seemed right, or at least fun. It's not something I plan to continue, but another chapter wouldn't be out of the question. It's based on the fact that Clarice, Hannibal and Harry are orphans and that the Dursleys are rude so to say. Now what would happen if Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling moved into Privet Drive number 2? This chapter doesn't answer that question, but it does provide an idea of how that story would be told.

I know the timeline is wrong.

This is 1981, and Lecter is still in the asylum. Buuuuut not in this story… live with it. And for some reason Clarice went with him after Memphis, which happened three years before it should(thus implying that they've lived at Privet Drive for a year, since 1980), but just imagine her the same age. This is fiction, right?

This is purely me having fun.

Enjoy!

Chapter One

The Boy Who Lived

Dr. and Mrs. Fell, of number two, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or murderous, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Dr. Fell was a doctor at the local hospital, which dealt with emergencies. He was a small, wiry man with a completely normal face, although he did have some very eerie eyes. Mrs. Fell was thin and petite and had very normal eyes, which came in very useful as she spent much of her time looking out for suspicious behavior, spying on the neighbours. The Dursleys next door had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no boy more spoiled anywhere.

The Fells had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think that they could bear it if anyone found out about the FBI. Mrs. Fell was a former trainee there, but they hadn't been in contact in a year; in fact, Mrs. Fell pretended that she didn't have anything to do with the FBI, because the agency and their good-for-nothing system were as unFellish as it was possible to be. The Fells shuddered to think what would happen if the FBI arrived in the street. The Fells knew that the FBI had a grudge, too, and they had felt it. This grudge was another good reason to keep the FBI away; they didn't want to be mixed up in something like that again.

When Dr. and Mrs. Fell woke up on the dull, grey Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and murderous things had happened that night. Dr. Fell hummed as he picked out his finest tie for work and Mrs. Fell cleared the table of their breakfast as she smiled happily.

They both noticed a large tawny owl flutter past the window.

At half past eight, Dr. Fell picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Fell on the cheek and then proceeded to kiss her longingly on the mouth as she giggled and swatted his hands away. Dr. Fell laughed as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number two's drive.

Dr. Fell didn't pay any mind to the cat on the corner of the street as he drove to work. It was just a cat after all, but he did pause for a moment when he saw the people in capes. What the…. The FBI wouldn't be that stupid, would they now? As the morning traffic forced him to slow down, his entire frame was completely rigid and he was ready to bolt. He glanced to his left, where a group of them was gathered on the sidewalk. None of them gave him any attention as they talked animatedly amongst each other. He followed the traffic and came further and further away from them. The FBI would have followed him, wouldn't they? Yes… these people didn't seem half as dull as those paper-pushers at the Bureau.

Things at work were uneventful, except for the large number of owl attacks that seemed to have stricken town. Dr. Fell attended to them and listened to tales of swooping owls and notes tied to their legs. He recalled the owl at breakfast and wasn't at all surprised when he saw a fair few of them on his way home. It was unsettling, but there was nothing he could do about it, he thought as he pulled into the driveway of number two. Mrs. Fell saw him through the window and came hurrying out. Her brow was furrowed and Dr. Fell took her into his arms without hesitating.

"What is it dear?"

"Haven't you noticed?" She asked without raising her voice, so the neighbours wouldn't think that there was anything wrong.

"What?" He could feel his pulse rising and that was never a good sign.

"There are people in disguises. I think they planted a camera on that cat over there." Mrs. Fell nodded towards the fence of number four, where the same cat from this morning was watching them curiously.

Dr. Fell drew her away from him and smiled kindly as he looked into her eyes. Her mouth was drawn in a thin line of worry.

"Oh darling Clarice." He said. "The cat is just a cat and those people in capes are just loons in capes. I ran into them this morning and they didn't even as much as look at me or notice me. They're not here for us."

A sigh of relief escaped Mrs. Fell but she didn't quite manage to smile. Dr. Fell touched her cheek lightly in affection.

"It's just a strange day, that's all." He said with a low tone. "Did you know that we had 32 owl attacks come in at the hospital today?"

"No." She raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"There you go." He placed his arm around her shoulder as he led her inside. "A weird day is just that; weird."

Mrs. Fell didn't quite believe that and neither did the Doctor, but it put their minds at ease. After all, as long as it wasn't the FBI, it had nothing to do with them.

How very wrong he was.

They closed the door behind them and visibly relaxed as Mrs. Fell slumped down on the couch and Dr. Fell followed her after he'd discarded his jacket. She nestled against his chest and he placed his arm around her, kissing the top of her head. Dr. Fell was much older than Mrs. Fell, but no one would guess that they'd only been together for a year as they sat together in silence, watching the blank TV screen in front of them. Dr. Fell wasn't very fond of TV, but he'd found it a necessity in keeping track of current events, especially when it came to the development of the case of one Hannibal Lecter and the missing FBI trainee Clarice Starling. Half an hour almost went by like this, until Dr. Fell rose from his seat.

"I'll prepare dinner, darling."

Dr. Fell always prepared the dinner even though Mrs. Fell stayed at home most of the day. It had become an unsaid tradition after Mrs. Fell's first and last tragic attempt at cooking, and they both much preferred it this way. Mrs. Fell turned on the TV instead and listened to the news carefully, trying to find out if there might be anything concerning their old friends from the US. She used most of her day doing just that; skimming through newspapers, listening to the radio and watching the TV. Every morning, midday and evening she'd walk or run through the neighborhood and keep an eye out for suspicious behavior. When she wasn't doing this, she was vigorously trying to read all the books her husband assigned her, which she didn't always quite manage.

All in all, they were very happy and enjoying the bliss of being newlywed. This of course, as in so many other stories, was all about to change. It wasn't one of those changes that happened from day to day, no, it was more of a gradual change that would one day sneak up on you and you'll look back and think; how did we get involved in this again?

It was much later that night, when Mrs. Fell was fast asleep on her side of the bed and Dr. Fell was standing by the window that overlooked the street that he noticed something peculiar. It seemed that the cat, that had been hanging around the street all day, was still there, sitting completely still on the exact same spot where it had been sitting earlier when Mrs. Fell had insisted it was wearing a camera. His brow furrowed. Now that was weird.

The alarm bells didn't really go off until the lights did… literally.

One moment, the entire street was illuminated by a soft, yellow glow and the next moment, it was completely dark. Dr. Fell stood still, drawing in his breath slowly in through his teeth, creating a wheezing sound. Clarice…

He whirled around to the bed and dropped down beside his wife, shaking her shoulders. Her eyes blinked open and cleared up in an instant.

"Hannibal…?" A small note of drowsiness was evident as she spoke. Her eyes searched his face and saw his clenched jaw. "What's going on?"

He touched the side of her face lightly and leaned in., kissing her lips softly. "Nothing Clarice. Go back to sleep."

She hesitated, her eyes lingering on in his face, which was no longer the same that she had known when she first met him. They'd both undergone procedures to ensure their anonymity, but as their eyes locked, they knew that they'd always know each other, no matter how they looked. Mrs. Fell closed her eyes slowly, trusting her husband to know what was best. With one last kiss, he climbed off the bed and left the room silently. He'd panicked for a moment. The words that would have sent her running for their emergency suitcases had been on the tip of his tongue, but a last minute's clarity made him pause. It could have been a power shortage…

He tiptoed down the stairs bare feet and turned towards the backdoor through the kitchen instead of using the front door. It wasn't exactly cold outside, but he did feel a chill as he crept outside. Dr. Fell ignored it, moving soundlessly through his garden along the fence to number four and halting as he reached his drive. He strained his ears.

A low murmur of voices could be heard and Dr. Fell decided to move closer. The stones under his feet were cold but he didn't make a sound as he bent down, trying to avoid detection. He reached the street, crouching by the end of the hedge. They were now only two feet away, leaning against number four's garden wall and he could hear them clearly.

"That's not all." A woman's voice started. Dr. Fell could hear her distress and the thick sound of tears pressing on. "They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But… He couldn't. He couldn't kill that boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke… and that's why he's gone."

There was a moment of silence, where Dr. Fell desperately tried to repress a sigh of relief. For a moment he'd thought they were talking about him, but he hadn't killed anyone and he'd certainly not tried to kill a little boy. When they mentioned a name that definitely wasn't his, he'd had to swallow his own reaction. But then again; it could be a code name.

"It's… it's true?" The woman was becoming emotional and Dr. Fell vaguely wondered where the cat had gone. "After all he's done… all the people he's killed… he couldn't even kill a little boy? It's just astounding… of all the things to stop him… but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess." A man said. His voice was deep and Dr. Fell realized that these people were much older than himself. "We may never know."

There was silence again as they both composed themselves, and Dr. Fell sat completely still, holding his breath. Somehow, he knew that these people wouldn't be very keen on it, if they knew that he'd been listening in. He hadn't heard about any murders, and that was usually a matter that he followed with great enthusiasm; both out of interest and necessity.

"Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes." The woman answered. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

Dr. Fell wasn't the only person who cringed at the notion. It seemed that the woman had the exact same notion about the neighbours as he had, and that was after only having watched them for a day. A day? How come he hadn't noticed a woman lurking around Privet Drive? The woman continued to rant about the Dursley's and their son, but the old man intervened before she could start yelling.

"It's the best place for him. His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

The woman started her rant of indignation again, and Dr. Fell raised an eyebrow as she spoke of the boy's fame. He wasn't quite sure, if this made sense, or if these people should occupy the recently emptied cell of the Baltimore Asylum. They kept talking for a while, arguing about how to raise a child, and Dr. Fell found his professional self, agreeing with the old man, who said that no child should grow up famous. They were not completely insane after all.

Dr. Fell was brought out of his musings by a loud, rumbling noise. He fell to his knees and looked down the street, trying to see the headlights of an approaching car. His eyes turned to the other side; nothing. As the rumbling became louder, it finally occurred to him, to look up, and what he saw left him speechless; a huge man, seated on a motorcycle that was heading directly towards them. He blinked. The motorcycle looked to be… flying?

The Doctor gaped, wide eyed as the motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the street in front of them. The man wasn't just big; he was huge, and in his arms he held a small bundle that Dr. Fell already knew what contained.

"Hagrid." The old man greeted. "At last. And where did you get that motorbike?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir" The giant said with a thick dialect. The old man was a professor then? Hmmm, interesting. "Young Sirius Black lent it me. I've got him, sir."

"No problems, were there?" The man called Dumbledore asked.

A few words were passed between them, and they finally stepped closer to look at the bundle, which quite correctly turned out to contain the boy. They talked quietly, but Dr. Fell was still able to make out a few words. It seemed the boy had a scar. The giant became quite emotional at one point and the doctor was surprised he hadn't woken Mrs. Fell, who was a very light sleeper.

Finally, after several moments of silence, it seemed that they'd agreed to leave the place. Dr. Fell could feel the pain in his knees and he knew it would be bruising in the morning, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Exchanges and goodbyes were uttered, and he picked up the name of the woman and stored it in his memory. He'd have to find out some more about these people. He saw the back of the old man as he left, walking down the street. Dr. Fell was somehow not surprised to see that he was wearing the same kind of cloak as several of the people in town had been wearing this morning. He sat completely still as the old man turned around for one last look. He lifted something into the air. A click could be heard through the silence and suddenly, all the lights were back. Then, with a pop, he was gone; vanished into thin air.

Dr. Fell blinked in surprise. He must have missed something. A lapse in his concentration surely. The old man must have turned the corner in a hurry and he'd just happened to look away. Or blink… maybe. And the lights? It must have been a coincidence, or these people somehow had contact with the higher powers at the power plant… He shook his head in defeat. This was not his day.

The Doctor felt very old as he tried to get up from the ground after sitting still on his knees, on the stones, for so long. His pushed off the ground with his hands and managed to stand up with a grunt. He really needed to go on these runs with Mrs. Fell. Spending years in an asylum had obviously not helped his physical shape. He spun his whole body and looked at number four. Now this was interesting.

He walked slowly around the hedge, following the garden wall, and walking up the small path to number four, eyeing the small bundle on the front step. He came closer and leaned down over the sleeping child. His small hands were curled around a letter, his head was covered in soft, raven colored hair and on his fore-head, he saw the scar that they'd talked about. It looked like a lightning bolt and the Doctor reached out his hand and touched it lightly. The boy stirred and his eyes cracked open for a small moment, revealing a bright green, before closing again.

He released his breath slowly. If the boy woke, there'd be hell and he'd be smack in the middle of it. Dr. Fell straightened up and walked away. He was quite curious to see how the Dursleys would react in the morning and he very much wanted to be awake when it happened. He retraced his steps and walked into his own garden, around the house and entered through the backdoor. He was completely soundless as he walked up the stairs and entered the bedroom.

Mrs. Fell was sitting upright in bed, holding the sheets close to her chest. Her head snapped in his direction as soon as she heard the door open. Dr. Fell saw relief pass over her face. Then her eyes landed on his knees and she raised an eyebrow.

"Hannibal… I'm all for you exercising and getting fresh air, but how does that involve dirtying your pajamas pants like that?" The undertone of worry in her voice led Dr. Fell to believe that his pajamas weren't really the issue. He went to his drawer and found a new pair.

"You won't believe what just happened…" And then Dr. Fell proceeded to tell a very unlikely tale about a giant, vanishing people and little boys left on doorsteps of estranged relatives. When he finished, he was lying beside his wife, staring at the ceiling. A moment of silence passed between them until she turned her head and asked:

"And then you just left him?"

Dr. Fell turned his head as well. "Well… what should I have done?"

"I don't know." She sighed. "It just seems wrong…"

"I know." He said, kissing the top of her head.

"The Dursleys are just so…"

"…Rude…" He whispered. Mrs. Fell's eyes went wide.

"Hannibal, we've talked about this…"

"Don't worry Clarice. We have a good thing going here. I wouldn't ruin it for the world." He took her hands and held them up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles one after one, staring intensely at her. She sighed in defeat and he spoke. "Harry Potter will be fine."

How very wrong they were.

A/N:

I've used the name Fell instead of Clarice and Hannibal throughout the story to keep with the style in chapter one of Harry Potter, but I suppose that could change.

Note how the title; The Boy Who Lived, can both refer to Hannibal AND Harry.

This is fun, purely fun. If you think it's a ridiculous idea, then it's because it is.