Chapter II: Seven Years Later...
The moderately large town of Crannson, Illinois, was a perfectly normal town, thank you very much. It had it's urban, suburban, and industrial areas, much like any other budding city. In the last five years or so, it went from small, backwater town to becoming one of the largest cities in tri-county area. As it grew, the somewhat old-fashioned town quickly began adopting the fads and styles that were popular of the age. Almost on the cusp of the 80's, the town experienced the strangeness of today's youth, mainly in the form of oddly colored leather, oddly colored mohawks, strange makeup colors, and the noise that was tentatively referred to as music.
And one of their most colorful individuals was a young Harry McNeil. Harry, growing up in a healthy American household, had taken to the style of his age quite well. His hair was the deepest black, and his eyes were a just as deep shade of green. His face was completely unblemished, save for a scar on his forehead. A scar so faint, that it could hardly be seen to this day. He wore unlaced tennis shoes, baggy jeans, and a long, white t-shirt with a red letter H covering the front. He grew his hair out long, with the front longer than the rest. He listened to loud music, collected comics, and very recently began learning how to skateboard. In many ways, he was an average eight (going on nine!) year-old of his time.
However, in many ways he was not. He had a keen interest in electronics, and he had a small iguana named Thor. He, along with his friend Felix, were also best friends with a girl. And one of the biggest bullies in his neighborhood was currently reminding him of that. This brute's name was Johnny Hopkins, and he was the biggest, meanest kid that Harry knew. And he also had it in for Harry.
"Aw, come on, Johnny! Why do you always pick on me?" Spluttered an indignant Harry, after he's spit out the mud he was being forced to eat. Johnny laughed, with the same brutish cruelty of most children in his age group.
"Toughen up, Sissy!"
"I am not a sissy!"
"Sissies hang out with girls. You hang out with a girl. So you're a sissy, and that's final!" With that, the larger boy stuck his tongue out at Harry. He then walked over to the other side of his yard, to where his dad kept the... Oh, no.
Oh, yes. For Johnny had a chain leash in both his hands. A leash that was attached to a large, snarling German Shepherd. The strain of the vicious dog's pulling had Johnny grunting in exertion.
"Sissy, meet Smasher. Smasher, meet Sissy. Sissy, do you know what my daddy says?" At Harry's wary headshake, he continued. "My daddy told me that there are only two types of people. There's dogs, and there's dogmeat. You wanna know what Smasher thinks you are?"
An interesting thing to note is that in some instances, there were two particular things that happened when Harry was involved. One thing he'd do is open his mouth, and get in even deeper trouble. And an even odder thing: Strange things would happen. Things that would get him back out of trouble. Naturally, this was one such instance.
"Well, I don't know... but maybe he told you when you were both in the Creep Convention?" Uh-oh... Now I really put my foot in it. At least I got to use that line before I died.
Of course, this led the bully to turn red in anger. And an angry bully straining to hold onto an equally straining dog is likely to do one thing. At the screams of two nearby kids, he let go. "Sic 'em, Smash."
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Of course, man or child, a snarling beast of a dog is never a good thing to assaulted by. Harry turned and fled. All of his life, he'd been almost unnaturally quick. He ran back to his friends, Bea and Felix. As he ran, he grabbed his pack, which had been dropped when he was grabbed my Johnny earlier. The three friends ran, with the dog snapping at their heels. Unfortunately, they were chased into town, and soon found themselves in an alley that led to a dead end.
Before this, they had gained some ground. Ground that was lost within seconds as the dog found the entrance to the alleyway. The three children and the dog stared each other down. And the dog made chase. Knowing that he was seconds away from a world of hurt, Harry closed his eyes, and desperately wished they were safe.
There was a sound, much like snapping fingers. The three felt a brief squeezing sensation. And suddenly, the sounds of snarling were not quite so close. They opened their eyes to find themselves at the top of one of the building's fire escape. The dog sniffed around in confusion. A certain bully soon found himself panting at the end of the alley, leash in hand and attempting to call the dog.
He looked around, and saw no scared kids. Confused, he eventually hooked up the dog, and issued the command to return home. As soon as the bully and his dog were out of sight, the kids breathed a sigh of relief. Bea and Felix looked at eachother, and then looked at Harry.
Felix was Harry's first friend. Felix's mom would often have Harry over to stay for a week or two, when his mom was at an archaelogical dig. Felix had long, brownish-red hair that kept his eyes completely hidden from view. He was very thin, but had an extremely large appetite. An appetite so large, that it brought his mother near tears to think of his teenage phase. Harry's friend loved to hang out with him, even if he only showed a passing interest in anything Harry found fascinating. Even at this age, he seemed to be a bit of a slacker.
Harry's best friend, Bea, was another story. Her hair was almost as black as Harry's, and her eyes were a lovely shade of hazel. Whereas Felix was a slacker, even this early Bea showed signs of being a driven, talented person. She matched Harry's interests tit for tat. She was smart, she was active, and she was almost always seen in Harry's company. Which was actually the root of their current problem.
"So, that was close." Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
"Yeah, a little too close." Having said that, Felix turned around to show that the dog had actually torn a hole in his pants, showing the world his heart-patterned boxers.
"Nice boxers, by the way." Felix blushed heavily, upon realizing just what a certain girl was seeing. "So Harry, how did we end up here?" Both of the other kids were looking at Harry... well, at least Harry thought that he was what Felix was looking at.
"Guys, guys, guys... what makes you think I did anything? I'm just as surprised as everyone else." Bea thought for all of thirty seconds, and held up her hand.
"Well, Harry. Let's see your track record. You've turned Mr. Johnson's hair blue." One finger was held up.
"When we were getting ready to dissect frogs, all of the jars that the frogs were in actually exploded. And the frogs weren't hurt."
"Almost everytime you get the High Score on Dementoid, the machine shorts out." Felix put in not-so-helpfully.
"Felix, have you ever heard of a guy named Judas?" Harry said as Bea put yet another finger up.
Five minutes and twice as many fingers later, the two friends had given Harry a full account of all the reasons for them to be suspicious of Harry's involvement in yet another set of strange affairs. In the end, Harry relented, and told them of other stories. Stories of how he'd sometimes talk to Thor, and Thor would answer back. Or how he once planted a seed in the backyard as a project, and the next day he had a full sized tree in it's place. Or also how he had once had a nightmare that he was falling, and woke up to find himself three feet above his bed.
"So what does this all mean?" Bea wondered, a thoughtful frown on her face. Which, deep in a part of Harry that he had yet to come to terms with, looked quite pretty. Felix, in a total Felix-esque move, wanted to forget the issue entirely, and go to the nearby pizza place/video arcade/Comic book store. Harry, however, had wondered the same thing. Many times.
"There's only one way to find out, guys. But first..." Harry looked down at the alleyway. "How do we get down, anyway?"
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The Crannson City Public Library was one of the town's crown jewels. It can proudly boast that it was the fifth largest library in the state. The rain outside added to it's imposing grandeur. It was large, it was dark, and it was quiet. Well... kind of.
"C'mon, guys. What are we even looking for, anyway?" Felix complained as the librarian gave the typical Librarian Gaze. Several days after the incident with Hopkins, the trio found themselves pouring over books in the library. They had been there for several hours, looking through any book that might have an explanation for Harry's strangeness. Even Harry had lost the enthusiasm that he'd started with. They'd looked through everything from Aliens to Psychics. Nothing.
At least, until Harry had stumbled on a small, old book. A book with no name. Strangely enough, there wasn't even a stamp card located anywhere on the book. It's like no one else even knew that it existed. Harry, thinking he'd finally hit up at least something interesting, almost cried out as a strange jolt coming from the book zapped him. It didn't hurt. It almost felt... pleasant. Kind of like how his mother's hugs felt when she'd been in South America for two months.
When the feeling stopped, he opened his eyes to find that his friends were staring at him again. This time, he could see that Felix was staring, because both of his friends' hair was standing up on end, with static discharge becoming visible now and again.
"So... guys, I think the answer might be in this book." Bea nodded mutely in agreement, and even Felix couldn't be distracted from such a weird adventure. However, once they opened the book, they quickly realized that the book wasn't even written in english. It was written with strange symbols, rather than letters. The symbols were quite beautiful, and every now and then a multicolored sheen would glint off the words.
Beautiful they may have been, but that didn't solve anything. Rather, it deepened the mystery. After another hour of fruitlessly trying to solve this strange puzzle, the trio decided to come back again, and Felix happily led them to his favorite Comic book store. As they left, none of them noticed how the book disappeared in a multitude of colors. Harry didn't even notice that the inside pocket of his coat had gotten a little heavier, as the rain pounded on the laughing kids.
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In an ancient cave on the other side of the world, an ancient being smiled. The Chosen One had finally stumbled on one of his gifts. Even with his precognitive abilities, he had almost doubted that the boy would find the book, considering that it was in a library of all places.
He reclined in his small chair, and pondered. He knew that as soon as the boy had set his hands on the book, that it would accept him. And because of this, some events would be altered, and some would remain etched in stone. He looked at Norman, and smiled as he watched the large man practicing his sword forms in another corner of the cave. They both knew that it was almost time for them to finally meet their champion.
After giving himself another moment of rest, he got up and walked over to Norman. After a brief conversation in the Old Norse, the little being pulled out a small statue, opening a portal. This was the only way out of the cavern that they had been staying in. With only another three years to meet their hero, they had a lot of errands to run.
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Harry sighed contentedly. He had just come back from Bea's house, where the trio spent the rest of the afternoon watching TV and playing games, the day's mystery forgotten. Harry had a good time with his friends, and he bought the new El Supremo comic that he had saved his allowance for. All in all, a great way to spend the first Saturday of the summer.
He sighed again as he collapsed onto his bed. With the press of a nearby button, the small pile of TV's that he'd hooked together flared to life. Almost immediately, he felt the familiar flicker of a certain forked tongue next to his cheek.
"Thor! How ya been, buddy? I got somethin' for you." With that, he reached for his nightstand, where he kept a jar of bugs for Thor. In reaching for the jar, his movements caused his coat to fall off the bed with a weird thunk. He looked at it oddly, absently giving his pet a small beetle. Shrugging, he reached for his coat, and felt a small, rectangular lump in one of the inner pockets. It was a rather confused Harry who pulled the old book from its hiding place.
"What the..." Harry didn't have a chance to finish, as the book flashed a wave of multicolored light. The colors clung to the walls, and chromatic shadows swayed their tendrils throughout the room. The lights had dimmed, and the only source of light was the book. A symbol began glowing in the center, with an intense whiteness. The book hovered from Harry's hand to the center of the room. All in all, it made for a spectacular sight. A strange rumbling noise, like the sound of crashing waves, began. The book slowly began to open, and a breeze began to blow through the room...
And Harry's mom opened the door. As soon as the door knob began turning, everything had returned to it's normal state. Harry, sat there with a look of shock on his face, as his mother pressed the button to switch off the TV's.
"Honestly, Harry. I'm not surprised you didn't hear me knocking. Your TV's are much too loud. I was calling you down for dinner. Buffalo stew, your favorite. Also a-" It was at this point that she saw the look on her son's face. "What is it, Harry?"
Harry held up the book, and she flipped it open to a random page. In her years as an archaelogist, she had at least learned to recognise a vast number of languages. These symbols were completely new to her. With the exception of the one on the cover, at least. But that couldn't be possible.
"Harry, where did you find this?" He immediately launched into the story, even explaining why they were in the library in the first place. When he finished, she had a thoughtful look on her face. Could this be what Virgil told me about all those years ago? She shrugged off the feeling of unease that came with remembering that... man.
"Come on, kiddo. Food's getting cold." And with that, the two went down to eat. And over dinner, Harry discovered that his old book was actually written in the ancient Lumerian dialect.
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And so it was by the middle of dinner did Tessa McNeil remember what she was going to say to Harry earlier. By the time Harry had finished his dessert, his mother had informed him that a package had come for him while he was out with his friends. This is how young Harry found himself sitting on his bed, with the book and a small parcel in his lap. Thor was snoozing comfortably on his headboard.
With the delight that only a child could have at the prospect of unwrapping a gift, he made quick work of the wrapping paper. His glee dimmed only slightly as he uncovered a book. His grin was replaced by a puzzled frown as he read the title:
Ancient Lumerian Made Easy: A guide of Language and Culture.
By Virgil Fowling
Perhaps it was his youth that kept him from overly puzzling over the strange coincidence. Or perhaps it was his eagerness to finally solve his newfound mystery. In the end, he began reading it. And the book was so fascinating, that little Harry McNeil read it until he fell asleep. Once he began to dream, the book began thrumming in an almost content way.
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Meanwhile, in the bowels of Scotland, a certain Headmaster watched as the train pulled out of Hogsmeade Station, taking with it the children who made this castle truly come alive. After a few silent moments, he continued on with his tasks. Alas, paperwork works it's magic over even one such as me, thought a frustrated Albus.
He continued his clerical duties, until it was time to make his rounds. Greeting every ghost and every painting, as he strolled through the halls of his school, humming tunelessly. No matter how long he'd been the headmaster of Hogwarts, the importance of educating the next generations never ceased to astound him.
A small buzzing on his watch told him that it was time to dine in the Great Hall. He walked in to discover that the Annual Staff Celebration was well underway. Why, even Severus seemed a little less... like himself. He struck up a few conversations with several of his staff, and celebrated by giving himself an extra helping of treacle tart. For a little while, he forgot about work and enjoyed himself.
Eventually, he found himself back in his office. His work for the day finally complete, he walked over to his study and sat down by the fire. Even with the warm temperatures outside, his old bones would easily catch a chill. As he settled in, he summoned his current reading material, a book on Advanced Alchemical Theory. Absorbed in the book, he absently reminded himself to send an owl to his old friend Nicholas. It had been too long.
Every now and then, however, his attention would stray to the other side of the room. To a certain device that he'd been monitoring regularly since Hallow's Eve of 1981. Just like every night that he'd looked, it still behaved slightly erratically. However, there was a certain amount of information on the boy that he could still interpret.
First and foremost, the boy was still alive. Otherwise the jumble of metal and glass would have fallen apart within a day. The largest gear was shining a placid blue and rotating slowly, stating that the boy was having a contented sleep. The glass sphere near the bottom of the contraption was glowing white; a sign that the boy is unharmed and in good health. All of the other gears, such as the ones that stated location or situations, continued behaving erratically.
With a mixture of relief and regret, he absently went back to reading. The boy appeared safe, and happy as well. His regret stemmed from the fact that he couldn't find the boy. There wasn't enough manpower for such a search. He would have done it himself, if not for the responsibilities that Albus had. One can't just run off willy-nilly when one had a school full of children, the ICW, and most of the British wizarding government needing him on a constant basis.
Quite humorous, when one puts into account that the children are far less needy than the government, he thought amusedly. Stifling a yawn, the prestiged headmaster finally decided to turn in for the night. With one last look at Harry's monitoring device, he said a quick prayer for the boy, and headed to his personal quarters.
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a/n: Longer than the first chapter, even if only by a little bit.. I've tried to go for the benevolent approach to a certain headmaster. My version is designed to genuinely want the happiness of others, and he isn't ridiculously omnipotent or manipulative. Some parts of this chapter may have seemed a little fast-paced. Once the Crossover is made clear, the pace will make a little more sense. As to the convenience of certain events, all will be revealed. The great uncovering of just what this crossover is will be coming up shortly, and I estimate that it will be by the end of Chapter IV. Until then, I left a few more clues as to the nature of the crossover. Special thanks to Phoenix77, my first reviewer. Hopefully I have adequately answered your question. I hope that this chapter was enjoyable, and I would greatly appreciate any reviews given.
Entop
