Disclaimer: Obviously, Harry Potter, the Wizard of Oz, and Wicked are not mine. If they were, this would be on a site for Original Fiction rather than here. Or published. Whatever.
Crossover: Harry Potter meets The Wizard of Oz. With hints of Wicked simply because I was too lazy to think of alternative names for the witches.
The Marauders of Oz
Prologue: In which we learn how things really stand in the Land of Oz.
"Only one girl can defeat the Witch, She'll grow to adore
The Wicked Witch of the West.
The girl will arrive on another Witch,
The Witch of the East--the best.
Her companions four,
And in her quest they'll assist.
Who would have thought
Such a varied lot
Could actually coexist?
The first of her friends
Shall be black as the night;
A dog that might sometimes
Give rivals a fright.
Second: a man
Who falls head over heel
Unable to think
Though he tries with such zeal.
The third of the lot
Is a heartless young chap.
He'll have just woken up
From a rather long nap.
The fourth, though he walks
Upon two legs not four,
Is really a beast
That most people abhor.
Together they've power to kill the Witch,
The Wicked Witch of the West.
But without the girl: a triumphant Witch
And the world will end up in a mess."
It had first been said years ago; soon after the death of Glinda's mother and sister, five years ago, in fact. The prophecy that would change Glinda's life.
Yes, that's right, Glinda. Because the witch of the west that our dear Dorothy killed was not the true witch of the west. The true witch of the west was Glinda herself, and she was indeed worse than the others.
When the old Kansas farmhouse had fallen from the sky onto Glinda's cousin Nessarose, she had been blindly afraid at first. But minutes later she realized that she could use the situation to her advantage, and she immediately rushed to Munchkinland to asses the situation.
Upon learning that the girl knew nothing of her destiny to kill Glinda, and that she wanted nothing more than to go home, Glinda sent her off to what the locals had titled the 'Wizard'.
Wizard—hah. He was no more a wizard than the dog, tutu, or whatever his name was. But the people adored him nonetheless, so he was a threat to Glinda's position of power.
Anyway. The prophecy had never stated specifically that Dorothy would be the victor. It said nothing even resembling that; only that the girl was the one person who could possibly kill her. If Glinda could send her back home without learning of her enormous power, Glinda would rule unchallenged for the rest of her life. And if she could get the Wizard out of her hair, her reign would be that much more enjoyable.
Well, you know the story from there. The Wizard and Dorothy both made their way back to Kansas without harming a hair of the witch—the right witch, anyway—and left the Tin Man, Scarecrow, and Lion behind. While these three were also mentioned in the prophecy, they could do no harm without the girl. Glinda wasn't concerned with them.
The moment Dorothy was gone, Glinda let down her benevolent façade cackled menacingly. "Hahahahaha!" she cried evilly. "You are all doomed forever; your only hope gone home still blissful with ignorance."
The Tin Man dropped his axe in shock. "Glinda?" he gasped.
She raised her eyebrows at him mockingly. "Thought I was good?" she smirked.
"What have you done to Dorothy?" the Scarecrow asked, suddenly panicking about her intentions. "You didn't kill her, did you?"
She laughed again, though with slightly less menace this time. "Oh no. I sent her home, just as I said," she told the trio reassuringly. Funny how it didn't much reassure them.
It did, however, put a silence to their protests. That, and the fact that she had just summoned her bubble and was floating away, gloating cheerfully.
She was rather fond of her bubble. Obviously, she could just apperate anywhere in the country if she wanted to, but she enjoyed floating over her lands, being reminded of all that she ruled.
The pastime was made all the more enjoyable due to Dorothy's fine work. All that she ruled had just become three times bigger thanks to the girl's quick work of her dear cousins.
She floated off to the north to check in on her newest subjects and inform them of the change of rule, blissfully happy. No one could kill her now.
Or so she thought. But at the same moment that she was floating north, the Munchkins were having a funeral for their dead tyrant. Though she had been horrible to them, she still held a certain amount of importance, and they felt the need for a ceremony.
Well, it was more of a celebration, truth be told, and they were really only doing it because they didn't think having a body rotting under a smashed up house would really be the best monument for their town, but they told themselves it was because she was important to ease their consciences slightly.
They had just lowered her body into a hole in the ground when there was a rather loud bang and a flash of light. Moments later, the Munchkins were blinking and rubbing their eyes, sure that the light had blinded them or that they had gone crazy.
There were four young men standing around the grave looking just as surprised as the Munchkins themselves. And in the grave, a redheaded girl blinked in confusion at her feet, which rested on the face of the Wicked Witch of the East.
Had Glinda been present at the funeral, she might have considered the possibility that she'd misinterpreted the prophecy and that she was not, in fact, safe from execution. But she was off looking forebodingly at her newest subjects, happily unaware of the danger she was in.