Untitled HP/Aliens/Predator Crossover
Summary: Auror Calla Potter is having doubts about her career, but before she can make any final decisions she's asked by the Minister to lead a team into Gringotts to save the goblins from a terrible danger they've unwittingly unleashed before it emerges and threatens everyone. Will she get there in time? Is there even anyone left to save?
Crossover: Harry Potter/Aliens/Predator
Pairing: None
A/N: There are several fics that combine Harry Potter with the Aliens and/or Predator franchises, but I'm honestly not all that fond of any of them. This would be a short story, maybe four or five chapters, and I think it has some decent potential because there are opportunities for showing the main characters growing and changing quite a bit by the end.
As always, thanks to Bonnie for not only reading this and improving on the original, but also for her help in developing the plot so far.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does. I don't own Aliens or Predator, several major companies seem to.
Chapter 01 - Bug Hunt
Ministry of Magic, London.
"Are you sure you want to do this? A lot of people look up to you. They feel safer because they know you're here."
"Maybe that's part of the problem?"
The Minister raised one eyebrow, and Calla sighed.
"I don't want to become another Dumbledore," she tried to explain. "I'm tired of being the person everyone turns to when they have a problem."
"The responsibility? The pressure?"
Calla nodded. "From the time I entered Hogwarts, I've felt like... like everyone is watching me. Expecting me to take care of their problems. That, or waiting for me to fail. Since I was eleven years old, I haven't really had a break. It's been one life-or-death situation after another, every year, then straight into auror training after the war."
"I thought you wanted to be an auror?"
"Maybe I did, at one time," Calla said with a shrug, trying not to think about the fact that the idea had originally been given to her by an escaped Death Eater.
"Are you sure this isn't about that girl you rescued last week?" Calla refused to answer, so the Minister pressed on. "You know, she's alive because of you."
"Barely," Calla responded bitterly. "I should have gotten to her sooner. If I had, maybe she'd... maybe her brother wouldn't have..." She was still having nightmares about the scene when she and her team had finally broken through the wards. In the hospital, she'd scarcely been able to look at the parents, afraid of the accusations she expected to see written across their faces.
"You can't save everyone, you know."
"Everyone expects me to."
Shacklebolt shook his head sadly. "The only one who expects you to save everyone and solve everyone's problems is you, Calla."
She didn't respond to that. She knew he had a point, but he didn't hear the whispers behind her back or see the stares she was constantly subjected to. After a few long moments, she finally said, "I've just... I'm tired. I'm tired of chasing down mysterious, magical threats. I'm tired always being the one who has to solve horrible cases, seeing the worst things that witches and wizards can do to each other. I'm tired of waking up in St. Mungo's with another curse injury."
"Maybe a leave of absence..."
"What good would that do?"
"It would give you a break, at the very least," the Minister pressed. "You've been here five years now and have barely taken any of your allotted vacation. I know Ron and Hermione have repeatedly asked you to travel with them, but instead you take Ron's shifts."
Calla simply shrugged. He was right, but what was she going to do? There was no way she would intrude on her best friends' vacations like that.
"Don't you know that you do a lot of good? People look up to you here."
Calla glared at the Minister, angry that he'd try pulling that, but the glare had little effect on the man. He'd been a politician for too long.
"Why don't you take the rest of the week off, then come back in on Monday morning and we'll talk about an extended leave of absence," the Minister continued. "Maybe a month away from the Ministry will—"
"Minister! Minister!" The door to the Minister of Magic's office burst open, revealing a distraught Percy Weasley.
"Percy? What's the meaning of this?"
"I'm sorry, Minister, but there's a goblin here, demanding to see you!" Percy exclaimed, somehow managing to look embarrassed and assertive all at once. "They... something's gone wrong with Gringotts!"
Both Calla and Shacklebolt frowned. Gringotts had kicked out their customers and locked their doors over two weeks ago, and since then everyone had been wondering what was going on. Wonder, however, had been gradually turning to panic as the days passed and people couldn't get to their gold. There were rumors running around of a coup, of a dragon having gotten loose, and even of a new goblin rebellion.
"Alright, better show him in. Maybe we'll finally get some answers." Kingsley turned to his visitor and said, "I'm sorry, Calla. I know this is important, but..."
"Of course," Calla Potter replied as she stood. "I don't need to do anything immediately, and I'll think about taking these next few days as vacation."
Just then the goblin entered the office, but he was unlike any goblin either of them had ever seen before. He was bruised, bloodied, his armor was damaged all over, and he looked like he was about to keel over. "Percy, call a Healer!" Shack ordered as Calla helped the goblin to a chair. One of the Healers waiting on standby in the Ministry quickly came and soon had the goblin both looking and feeling less wobbly.
"My name is Cwen, and I thank you," the goblin said in a high, piping voice. "It's been days since we've had the supplies for proper medical attention."
"When did you last eat?" Shacklebolt asked.
"Two days? Maybe three?"
"I'll have someone send an elf with food," the Healer said as she left.
"Perhaps I'd better get going, too," Calla said, and Shacklebolt nodded absently, focused entirely on what could be happening under Gringotts.
"We'll talk later, Calla," he said.
"Calla Potter?" the goblin asked suddenly, and Calla inclined her head. "Assuming it is permitted, I'd prefer if you stayed."
Calla looked to Shacklebolt, who nodded in agreement, so she retook her chair while he moved his own closer to the goblin. A soft pop announced the arrival of a house elf with a large tray of food and drinks, which the goblin eagerly dug into.
"Tell me, what brings you to the Ministry?" the Minister asked once their unexpected visitor had gotten down a few rushed mouthfuls.
"My people made a mistake, and we have paid a terrible price for it," the goblin said between bites. "I was sent to you by my father, the king, to ask for your help so that we don't end up paying the ultimate price: the extinction of the British goblins."
Calla and Shacklebolt looked at each other in alarm.
"Some weeks ago," the goblin went on, "there was a bright light in the night sky when a meteor fell to earth north of here. Perhaps you remember it? I was told that it was even in the muggle news. My people covet celestial iron far more than gold, both because of its rarity and because it can be used to craft weapons with unusually strong magic. We recovered the object and brought it deep under the bank, where our craftsmen were to begin extracting its metal content. They found much more than iron, though. They found, buried in the rock, a tiny craft that was apparently designed to travel in space."
"A spaceship?" Calla asked. "I thought they were fiction!"
Cwen nodded. "My father had us read up on what muggles have to say about such things so we could better understand what we were dealing with. Unfortunately, it didn't prepare us nearly well enough. Our downfall started when a couple of workers went missing. Then a few more. Search parties were sent out, but they, too, disappeared. A bit of blood was found here and there, but nothing more than that. Then the tunnels were discovered."
"Tunnels?" Shacklebolt asked. "Isn't it all tunnels down there?"
"Yes, but nothing like these. Our tunnels are hewn from the earth with magic and sweat. These new tunnels, however... perfectly round and perfectly smooth, unlike anything created by human or goblin hands. We sent search parties down them. Then we sent armed companies. Eventually, one survivor returned. The madness in his eyes was matched by the madness of his stories, so he wasn't believed. Perhaps if he had been, more of us would have survived later on. Then again, perhaps nothing could have saved us."
Pausing to drink thirstily from his cup, he went on, "I can certainly tell you more of what happened — being a resident in the royal halls made me privy to even the most classified information. But time is short, and I should get to the point. As best as we were able to determine, that tiny vessel had an egg in it. At least one, possibly more. The egg released a creature which latched onto the face of a goblin worker, laid another egg inside him, then fell off, dead. After incubating for a time, that egg hatched and a new creature burst forth from the worker's chest, killing him before it ran off."
Calla shivered as she imagined such a scene, and she could tell that Shacklebolt wasn't faring any better.
"In a few short days that new creature grew into a horrible beast, as intelligent as it was vicious. We don't know exactly how they reproduce beyond that, but reproduce they have. There must be at least a hundred by now, and every one of them is more than a match for a hundred of our warriors. They climb along walls and ceilings as easily as you or I walk along the floor. Their claws and teeth can tear through even the most magically-hardened armor. And their blood is the strongest acid we've ever heard of, so even wounding one causes injury or death to any warrior unlucky enough to be too close."
"What's the state of your army?" Shacklebolt asked.
"The same as the state of the goblin nation as a whole: a near total loss," came the answer, causing both the Minister and Calla to blanch. "The king sent us to seek your aid just before the last group of defenders sealed themselves up in the most secure rooms of the royal palace. If they still live, they are all that's left of my people."
"Us?" Calla asked.
"There were a dozen of us, me and my personal guard. Half fell before we made it to the final door to the bank lobby, and the rest stayed behind to ensure that it was tightly sealed behind me."
Shacklebolt nodded and stood, moving to his desk. Even if he weren't inclined to help the goblins stave off extinction, it was obvious that whatever was killing them would soon come for the people living on the surface, muggle and magical alike. "I'll organize some auror squads with weapons and supplies to relieve your people. While that's happening, I'll alert the muggle Prime Minister and coordinate with him to mount a counterattack to ensure that we can eliminate the threat. I'll need you to tell us everything you know while we're getting people and supplies together."
The goblin nodded and took the proffered quill and parchment.
"Calla?" he said next. "I hate to ask this of you, especially right now, but..."
"It's fine," she replied. "Vacation is overrated anyway. I'll call up Rapid Response Squad One and tell Ron to form up Squad Two. That's twenty-two of our best aurors. I'll also call St. Mungo's to put together some packs of food, potions, and medical supplies. Say, two hours until we can leave?" Shacklebolt nodded in approval.
"Miss Potter?" the goblin asked before the young woman could leave. "Although you have had your... difficulties with my people, many of us know of and respect your deeds. I am pleased that you will be there to help us."
"I'm glad to help."
"I pray that it will be enough."
Calla met the goblin's gaze... and had to suppress a shudder at the haunted eyes she found staring back.
Diagon Alley, London.
"Does anyone else think this is a waste of time?" came a complaint from the back of the group as the two squads walked through Diagon Alley. Calla and Ron were up front in the silver-grey cloaks of squad leaders while their red-cloaked aurors were spread out behind. It was late, so there weren't too many shoppers about, but they were still drawing attention. It was unavoidable, and the rumors would be flying by morning.
"I'm just saying, what reason is there to think that we'll have any more luck than the entire goblin army?" It was Burke, of course, someone Ron had been dithering about kicking out from his squad.
Calla was wishing he hadn't dithered for so long.
"Because, Burke, our magic is different from theirs," Ron called back. "Goblin magic is more tactile. It's imbued in their tools and weapons. Ours is cast through our wands."
Calla caught his eye and smirked, and Ron gave a sheepish grin. They both knew that it was only because of Hermione that he had any idea of what he was talking about.
"This is one reason why goblins are so insistent on getting their weapons back from us," Calla added. "Us having goblin-made swords and knives is a bit like goblins collecting wands from dead witches and wizards."
"Very astute, Miss Potter, Mr. Weasley," added Cwen. "Few of your kind care about what our tools mean to us, but I'm pleased to see that you two understand."
"Anyway," Ron continued, "because of how their magic works, they usually have to fight up close, which as you learned in the briefing is a real problem with these creatures. We'll be in danger up close, too, but we have more options for fighting them at a distance. So remember to use long-range curses, transfiguration, and anything else to keep them at bay. And don't hesitate in your casting — these buggers move fast!"
Further conversation was put on hold as Cwen unlocked Gringotts' front door and they entered the deserted bank. Their guide had already explained that Gringotts had been locked down in siege mode, something normally used to prevent invaders from getting farther than the lobby, but which they had adapted in this case to prevent the creatures from getting out to the surface. This left them just one way in: the same route which Cwen had used to get out that morning.
"Secure the lobby," Calla commanded as soon as they were through the front doors.
"Burke, Creevy, left flank," Ron called out. "Snodgrass, Brown, take right."
Leapfrogging through the lobby in pairs, the two teams made their way to the tracks which were normally used to transport customers to their vaults. Just twenty yards into the gloom was the main door to the underground areas, and the sight brought them all up short. The door had bulges all over, as if it had been beaten from the other side, and there were places where it looked like the metal had partially melted and started running down the front.
"That is the heaviest, strongest vault door which Gringotts uses," Cwen said in a hoarse whisper.
"I guess it didn't look this bad this morning?" Calla asked, receiving a slow shake of the head in response.
Maybe I should have approached Shack about resigning last month? she thought, her stomach twisting a bit.
"Well, we need to get through," Ron said pragmatically, trying to put a good face on it. "Everyone take defensive positions, just in case there's something waiting for us on the other side." The squad members all spread out, pairing up and taking cover along the tunnel walls and behind overturned carts. It had been decided that they would operate in teams of two: one to cast offensive spells and one to focused on defense, primarily magical shields. It was hoped that the acid the creatures used for blood would be ineffective against such shields, though they unfortunately wouldn't know for sure until it was too late.
Once everyone was in place, Cwen activated the goblin magic on the door, causing it to slowly swing open. The awful sound of scraping, twisting metal rang through the air.
"Somehow, I don't think stealth is an issue anymore," Wallace muttered.
Suddenly one of the creatures dropped from the ceiling of the cavern and flung itself into the tunnel, making a break for the bank's lobby. A dozen different curses were cast at it, but it moved so fast that only two connected: a cutting curse which sliced off one leg, and a reductor curse which exploded its chest. Acidic blood sprayed everywhere, and five aurors discovered that a well-cast shield did indeed protect them.
"That wasn't so bad," Burke said. "It's ugly, but it dies like anything else."
"Watch where you step!" Miller called out. "You don't want to get that blood on your shoes! Banish it if you see any."
"Good news: our magic is effective against them," Ron announced as he stood over the body. "Offensive and defensive."
"Bad news: they move even faster than we thought," Calla added. "So we need to be faster yet. Much faster, otherwise we won't get a chance to fight them at a distance."
"Your shields will protect you against their physical attacks, will they not?" Cwen asked.
"They should," Calla answered. "They don't always work well against physical attacks that have a lot of kinetic energy, like bullets or a dragon dropping on you, but they should be effective against what you described."
"The problem is shielding in enough directions at the same time," Ron said. "One person can't cast a shield that provides 360 degree protection. You need several bunched up together for that."
Calla looked around. "We'd better get moving. If the screeching metal didn't alert more of them, the screeching creature surely did." She led them through the door and into the dark cavern beyond.
The first thing they all noticed were the bodies of goblin warriors.
"These were my guard," Cwen said softly, bending down to take the sword from one lifeless hand. "They've been with me all my life. I knew them, their mates, even their children." Calla felt a little uncomfortable watching the scene, feeling as though she were intruding on something private. At the same time, there was something about it that bothered her. She may not have always paid close attention in Binn's classes, but Cwen's behavior didn't strike her as particularly warrior-like.
Turning away, she addressed the wizard at her side. "Ron, I'm thinking that you and your team should stay behind."
"What? Are you crazy? You can't—"
"Look, we have two missions: relieve the goblins and prevent these creatures from breaking out to the surface. Right now, this is their fastest route out, and it leads them right into the heart of not only Wizarding Britain, but muggle London as well. If they get through here, it won't matter what we accomplish down there."
Ron stopped arguing and stared at his best friend, knowing that she was right and hating it. "I don't like you going down there without me," he finally said.
"I need you watching my back," Calla replied. "And you'll be doing that, right here. You'll be ensuring not only that these creatures can't get out, but that me and my team will have an escape route. It won't help to save the goblin king if we can't get back out again, right?"
Ron's eyes narrowed. "So how come I'm staying behind and you're moving on instead of the other way around? Why don't you stay and watch my back?"
"Because I'm senior to you, so I have tactical command," Calla said simply, earning a growl from her friend.
"I can't believe you're using that against me. One point! My final grade from the Academy was one bloody point lower than yours!"
"Yet it was enough, and if our situations were reversed, you'd be using it against me."
Ron heaved a sigh and slumped a little in defeat. Glancing over Calla's shoulder, he leaned in close to whisper, "Are you sure about that goblin? There's something odd about him."
Calla shot a look back as well and noted that their guide was still leaning over the same body that the sword had come from, whispering something with closed eyes. "Yeah, I know what you mean," she said as she turned back to Ron. "I've been getting funny vibes ever since we met in the Minister's office."
"Then why—"
"No, not that he's dangerous," Calla interrupted. "I'm certain that he doesn't mean us any harm. There's just something... different about this goblin. I don't know goblins well enough to put my finger on what it is, though." Calla shrugged. "Maybe I'm simply picking up on the fact that he's embarrassed and ashamed at what the goblins did."
Ron nodded reluctantly, then turned to his team. "Alright, everyone, let's close the door and do what we can to seal it up. Jenkins, you and Ives stay in the lobby. The rest of us will stay on this side and construct defenses around the door." Turning back to Calla, he said, "Promise me you'll come back, yeah? You know what Hermione will do to me if you don't."
"I always come back," she tried to reassure him, though her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. They nodded at each other before separating for their different missions. By this point Cwen was also ready and began leading Calla's team deeper into the caverns under Gringotts.
Definitely should have talked to Shack last month, Calla thought as the heavy metal door screeched closed behind them.