(Must Read)
Authors Note: In this universe, for the purpose of the crossover, ghosts can't be seen by most people. I have decided to make a cross-over of Harry Potter with my other favorite series in the world, the "Odd Thomas" series. This combination, to my delight, is extremely rare. In fact, I am proud to say that I have not run across any other story like this. YAY! Tell me what you think.
Hello, my name is Harry Odd Thomas. I lead an interesting life. Not to say my life is interesting than yours. I'm sure your life is filled with enough joy, happiness, and fear as you could wish for. After all, we are all human, and we both know how much of a terror that can be. By this I simply mean to say that my life is peculiar. Now, I'm sure that, as much as I hope you will forget about me by the time I publish this, the chances of that are very unlikely. Unlike my lucky father, you people see me as somewhat of a celebrity.
One of the reasons I am so strange is that I am the reincarnation of one Harry James Potter. Now, the dead of my first life is strangely NOT because Voldemort came to my house and "Avada Kedavra'ed" my old parents and I. When he aimed the spell at me, as everyone knows, it rebounded off of my forehead and hit him. I suppose that is what he gets for trying to kill a baby. I wish I could have seen that mans' face. Anyway, I died because his crazy follower, Bellatrix Lestrange, drove a knife into my heart upon hearing of her lords' death. How ironic, that the most "powerful" Dark Lord of all time couldn't kill me, but an ordinary crazy lady permanently PMSing could. Oh well, that's life.
Now, instead of just dying and getting it over with, my baby corpse burst into flames and my spirit flew into the pregnant belly of a Seer. Another Seer, a non-pregnant one, sat on the spot where my corpse one lay and announced in front of all the gathering Arours and public that I would be reborn into another body where a Seer awaits to find me a father. What an inconsiderate lady.
That is where my parents came into play. While it may surprise you, my parents were never intimate with each other. My father, Odd Thomas, has only one love, Stormy. He will be reunited with her when he passes on… I hope that this any time soon. I mean, I don't have anything against my father reuniting with the love of his live, but I love my dad. He's a fun guy, and, to be quite frank, I'd feel more than a little edgy if I were left all alone in this world with my mom. I love the woman dearly, but she's a little insane. Not nearly the type of insane that Bellatrix Lestrange is, but insane none-the-less. My mother, Annamaria, is a Seer, which alone should prove to you that she is crazy. She predicted my death and performed a ritual to make her pregnant until a man agreed on his magic to father the child. After the agreement, the woman goes into labor and a baby is born. My mother knew my father and, after he saved hundreds of muggles and, no doubt, wizards from going BOOM, asked my father to agree to be the father of the baby inside of her. Not quite knowing what was going on, he agreed to help raise the child, and his magic added his DNA to her womb and she instantly went into labor.
Then, my father got one of the biggest shocks of his life. He was a wizard, a muggleborn to be more exact. His parents hadn't told him of this because when he got his Hogwarts letter, his parents really didn't care enough to send him. His parents weren't very good at being parents. I mean, his mother threatened him with a gun for gods' sake. Now, why was he chosen to be the father of the Boy-Who-Lived? Well, I don't know. He's an interesting guy too. Where did you think I inherited the get-into-really-weird-situations gene? I'm sure you are all shocked to know that I have no better answer to the question the entire wizarding population has been puzzling over. In fact, I'm quite sure that more than a few of you have no-doubt fainted. I can only hope that none of you have died of shock over my revelation. No, on second thought, I take that back. Draco Malfoy, if you are reading this, that rule doesn't apply to you. Please die.
My father and I share another talent that makes our lives interesting. We see dead people. Some souls, when they die, cannot move on. They often turn to us for assistance, and sometimes what they want requires us to dive into strange life-or-death situations for justice. They are limited in their help, because the dead don't talk. We don't know why, so don't ask. My father did not wish for the gift. In fact, he would be happy to live his life as nothing more than an ordinary muggle fry-cook, or a tire-sales-man, a shoe-measuring-guy, or one of those police officers that put tickets under windshield-wipers in parking-lots. I, for one, would love to be just an ordinary boy with no greater ambition in life than to make fluffier pancakes then my dad, a feat which I have not yet accomplished, and follow him into any of the previous lines of work mentioned. Once again, if you are reading this Draco Malfoy, you are welcome, even encouraged to die of shock any time you'd like.
I am currently writing this manuscript behind the barred windows of a locked room on a street called Privet Drive. I am writing this for two reasons. The first reason is because I am terribly bored and have nothing else to do; my wand and other things are locked in a cupboard. The second reason is to stop the public from attempting to write idiotic un-truthful autobiographies. This will not be published any time soon however, if at all.
Now, where do I start?
AU: Well, where would you like the next chapter to take place, at the platform in Diagon Alley? I will take your choices into consideration.
