Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own Dragonball Z. In
fact, anything you may recognise being from anything published or seen
on TV does not belong to me. I have about seven Rand and fifty cents on
me. By the current exchange rate, that's about a dollar. If you sue me,
that's all you're gonna get.
Title: Harry Potter and the Otherworld Threat (For now. I may change it later).
Author: Kitai Shinsei
Author's Notes: I was reading Order of the Phoenix while watching Dragonball Z. Add to it that I read a Harry Potter / DBZ crossover this morning and this is the result. Another reason for this is that I'm bored out of my tiny little mind and have writers block in all my other story areas.
WARNINGS: This story contains slash. That means male/male relationships i.e. two men who are in love with each other. If you do not like this sort of thing, then GO AWAY. This also may change ratings. In other words, I might include a lemon somewhere. This story will also contain male pregnancy. Gotta love torturing them poor males. X3
Time Frame: After Order of the Phoenix in Harry Potter. In Dragonball Z, Goten and Trunks are 16 and 17 respectively. But I don't know much about this timeframe since we South Africans are watching the Buu saga, but it's early on; Gohan is just about to fight Debora and Goku has just blown up Yakkon. Anyway, Goku is alive. I don't know how yet, but he is and I won't accept flames saying he's dead. Or Vegeta for that matter since I know he apparently dies later. Everyone who I say is alive, is alive.
Um.just as a matter of interest, do Saiyans really become bound mates by biting each other's necks during mating? I've read about that in about ten different fanfics but I can't seem to find it on any factual websites. Either way, that's what I'm doing with Goku and Vegeta. I'm not trying to plagiarise anyone's work, but fanfiction can be considered plagiarism anyway so I shouldn't be in too much trouble.
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Goku/Vegeta, Remus/Someone else who I'm not saying just yet, and Trunks/Goten.
~*~
Chapter 1: New Jobs and Emotional Breakthroughs
Breakfast. The most important meal of the day. A time for sitting at the breakfast table with family enjoying the start of the new day.
"Oi, brat. Pass the milk." Said the slight Saiyan, looking up from reading the back of the cornflakes box with disinterest. His son pushed the milk carton his way nonchalantly and the dark-haired man sloshed the white liquid over the cereal, sprinkling a spoon of sugar over it before tucking in heartily.
The door opened, and another man walked in. He was tall and dressed in an orange gi and blue shirt. His hair stuck up every-which-way and his face bore a cheerful grin. "Hey 'Geta. Hey Trunks."
The older man at the table looked up, a slight smile flickering across his usually stony features. "Kakarot."
The boy waved. "How's it goin' Goku?"
"Fine." Then Goku spotted the cereal. "Oh boy, food! I'm starving!" He sat down and grabbed a bowl, filling it to the brim with cornflakes, adding milk and sugar and digging in with gusto.
There was silence for a while, as the trio went through their customary amount of ten large boxes of cereal in a single morning.
"Where's Goten?" Goku asked suddenly, having noticed that his younger son was absent.
"He left early." Trunks replied. "He didn't say where he was going."
Goku frowned slightly. "He's been strange lately. Distant. Do you know what's going on?"
"Kakarot, it's called adolescence." Vegeta told him sarcastically. "Kids usually go through it. Your brat's fine."
Goku smiled. "Yeah, you're probably right." He ruffled Vegeta's hair and the shorter Saiyan batted his hand away.
"I can think of better areas for your hands, Koi." He said, with a wicked smirk in Goku's direction.
"Uh, I'm gonna go now. I'm sure I have something that I was supposed to do in um.Africa or something." Trunks said, blushing, getting up hastily and racing from the house.
Vegeta smiled again at Goku. "We're alone, Koi." He said, stating the obvious with just the smallest waggle of eyebrows.
Goku grinned back at him, sidling over and pulling the smaller Saiyan into a tight embrace. Vegeta raised his head slightly and brushed his lips against the other man's, smiling as he felt Goku push into the kiss, running his tongue against Vegeta's mouth.
Tap, tap.
Goku lifted his head, panting slightly, and looked at the window. Vegeta moaned I protest and tried to pull his Koi's head back down.
"Um, Vegeta." "What is it, Kakarot?" Vegeta gazed in the direction Goku was looking and his eyes widened in disbelief. "Kakarot.is that an owl?"
It was. A barn owl to be exact. It was perched on the outside windowsill and was pecking repeatedly at the window. Attached to its leg was a small tube.
Goku stood up, slowly making his way to the window and opening it. The owl hooted and fluttered in, perching on the edge of the sink and holding out its leg, clearly indicating for Goku to take the tube. The Saiyan did so and the owl hooted gratefully, then began drinking water from the dripping tap. Goku took a bowl and filled it for the bird, then went and sat next to Vegeta who was still staring at the owl in amazement.
"What did it bring Kakarot?" the older Saiyan asked.
Goku opened the tube and pulled out a rolled up envelope that was sealed with red wax. The envelope bore a crest that depicted a lion, a snake, a badger and an eagle all surrounding a large letter 'H'. On the front were the words:
Prince Vegeta and Mr Goku Son
The Kitchen
Middle of Nowhere
Japan
"It's addressed to us." Goku said, snapping the seal, pulling out the letter enclosed and proceeding to read it aloud to his mate.
"Dear Prince Vegeta and Mr Son.
We at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are in dire need of
your assistance. It has come to our attention that our enemy, the Dark
Lord Voldemort, has joined forces with an old foe of yours who goes by
the name of Frieza."
"Frieza? But he's dead! We killed him!" Vegeta said, eyes widening.
Goku shrugged and read on:
"We know that this Frieza has been destroyed by you, but Voldemort has
somehow been able to summon his spirit. He has begun the quest for what
we believe to be a deadly weapon. It is known as a 'Dragonball'. We are
uncertain of what it does, but our sources have told us that you may
know something about this.
One of our subjects at the school is Defence Against the Dark Arts.
While that position has been filled, we would be grateful if you would
join us as co-teachers in that field. Voldemort has a number of strange
new creatures at his command, and we do not know how to deal with them.
We believe you do. Should you decide to take up with post you will be
provided with food and living quarters. We are aware that you have
children living with you. They are welcome to join us at the school as
well and learn some of the arts we teach here.
We would be grateful if you would reply as soon as possible. The owl
that brought this to you will bring a return letter to us once it has
rested.
Sincerely
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"
Goku finished reading and stared at Vegeta. "What do you make of this."
"Under normal circumstances I'd say let them handle their own problems." Vegeta said slowly, frowning. "But this is Frieza we're talking about. He could easily manipulate this "Voldemort" person into wishing him back to life stronger than ever. We can't take that chance."
Goku nodded. "Where do you suppose this school is?"
"I have no idea. Why don't you read that owl's mind? It might hold something useful." Vegeta said, snorting.
The older Saiyan edged towards the bird carefully. It stared at him with doleful yellow eyes and hooted gently. Goku hesitantly touched the owl's head and when it didn't flinch away from him, he pressed his palm firmly against the feathers and concentrated.
They were meaningless flashes mostly. Endless flapping over water, hunts and kills, desert, strange lands, until, with a dash of fondness, a huge castle appeared, rearing tall and proud over a lake, situated between majestic mountains. There were other owls there, and children, teachers too. One in particular was an old man with a long white beard who smiled and fed the bird with Owl Treats and spoke softly.
Goku pulled his hand away and opened his eyes. "It's a castle. And I think it's in England or something 'cause the man spoke with a British accent."
Vegeta's eyes widened. "England? That could prove fun. Wet, but fun nonetheless."
"I thought you liked the rain." Goku said, shooting his Koi an overly innocent look.
"Only when it's all over you Kakarot."
~*~
At the same time, a few thousand kilometers away in Surrey, England, it was drawing close to evening. A boy in his mid teens with a shock of raven dark hair, long gangly limbs, baggy, ill-fitting clothes and round glasses covering bright emerald-green eyes sat under a tree in the garden of his aunt and uncles house. His knees were drawn up close to his body, his arms were folded around them, hugging them close, and he rested his head against them. Harry Potter had sat in this same position at this same time every single afternoon since he had returned home from school for the summer.
Unbeknownst to him, a woman had watched him every time he sat there, almost puzzled at the emotion she was beginning to feel towards this boy. For close on fifteen years of his life, she had raised him in her home, belittling everything he did, despising him for what he was, but most of all, for who he reminded her of. Those eyes were so like her sister's, his mother's. Petunia Dursley was puzzled, because she had never felt anything but contempt for the boy, and to have fondness and an almost concern shunt the contempt aside was a new experience for her.
She opened the kitchen door and moved hesitantly towards her nephew, not speaking until she was right up close to him. He gave no indication of having noticed the intrusion. She took a deep breath. "Harry?"
The boy stirred, and looked up at her, puzzlement in his eyes. He had never heard her address him in that tone. His face was dirt-streaked as if he'd been crying.
"Are you all right?"
"What do you care?" He replied bitterly. "What, have I neglected to do yet another chore you conveniently forgot to tell me I was to do?"
Petunia winced at the hard words, their sting doubled because they were true. "You seem.different.since you came back. You seem.troubled."
"Ah. Troubled. Yet another person who thinks I'm insane." Harry pressed his head against his knees again, his last couple of words muffled slightly.
"I don't think you're insane. I meant that you seem sad. Upset."
"Why would I be upset?" Harry said, looking up at her again incredulously. "I'm stuck back here, my world is divided and at war and the closest person I ever had to a father was murdered in front of me."
Petunia gasped. "Murdered? Who was murdered? Was this at your school?"
"No. Somewhere else. And it was my godfather. Sirius. They killed him when he was fighting to save me." His green eyes filled with tears and he hid his head in his knees again, embarrassed.
"I'm sorry." Petunia said. She couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Why are you being nice to me?" Harry asked suddenly. "Has hell frozen over and I missed something?"
Petunia sighed. "You'd better get washed up for dinner. Vernon and Dudley will be home any minute."
Without a word, Harry stood, brushed himself down and stalked inside up to his room. Petunia watched him go then shook her head. She'd had no idea what he'd been through. She could not imagine watching someone she loved die.
~*~
Up in his room, Harry was puzzled by his aunt's behaviour. It was exceedingly un-Dursley-like. For someone who despised the very air he breathed, she was being remarkable civil.
He exhaled loudly and flopped down on the bed, staring at the clock. It was 16:10. Still a long time left before he could sleep.
Suddenly, he heard the familiar rush of wings, and knew his owl, Hedwig, must have returned from her hunt. He sat up, grateful for some company, then stopped. It wasn't Hedwig. It was an eagle owl. It hooted importantly and held out it's talon for Harry to take the letter it bore, then ruffled its feathers and took off out of the window.
Harry stared at the letter. His name was written neatly on the front in handwriting he vaguely recognised. He opened it and his heart leapt. It was from Lupin. Professor Remus Lupin had been the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in Harry's third year and was, in Harry's opinion, the best teacher in that subject he'd ever had. Well, considering his DADA teachers had been, in chronological order, a Voldemort supporter in first year, an egotistical fraud in second, Lupin in third, a Voldemort supporter and a fraud in fourth and a psychopath in his fifth year, he didn't have much to choose from.
Harry read his letter hurriedly.
Dear Harry,
How are your holidays so far? Hell, I don't know why I'm asking, I know
they must be bloody awful. I miss him just as much as you do, maybe
even more.
Actually, I'm writing to tell you some good news, Dumbledore's asked me
to fill in the job of Defense Against the Dark Arts post. I won't say
much more in this field. Usual paranoia about letters being
intercepted.
We'll be asking you to join us soon anyway; I'll explain more then.
Take care Harry. I know it hurts. Believe me, I know.
Remus
Harry felt a wan smile flicker across his features. Lupin really was the only person who understood him. No one else had been that close to Sirius, but Remus had been one of his best friends.
Harry sighed and stashed the letter in his usual hiding place under a loose floorboard below his bed. There were a few letters from Ron and Hermione under there, along with dust and a couple of spiders. If he didn't leave Privet Drive before his birthday, then it would stay pretty sparse, but if not, then he'd have a lot of stuff to shove under there.
Harry suddenly heard his uncle and cousin arrive home and did as Aunt Petunia asked. He washed his face and hands, trying to ignore the haunted look he bore in his eyes. Then he made his way downstairs to continue the charade of being the same old loathed Harry they always knew. Only Aunt Petunia looked at him in a new light.
~*~
A week before Harry's birthday, a note arrived for him, scrawled in his best friend Ron's handwriting. It was attached to the leg of Ron's tiny owl, Pigwidgeon, who fluttered around Harry's room like a winged tennis ball on a caffeine high. The note consisted of eight words:
Be ready tonight. Lupin and Tonks fetching you.
Excitement filling him, Harry quickly packed away what homework he had managed to do and piled his books, robes and clothes into his trunk (he had removed the robes to prevent them developing a musty smell).
Harry then went downstairs to inform his relatives of his imminent departure. He arrived in the kitchen to find his uncle had left for work, and Dudley was off terrorising the neighbourhood children. Aunt Petunia was the only one there, wiping off recently washed dishes and putting them away. Silently, Harry helped her, still puzzled by her kind attitude towards him in the past week or so.
When the last plate was stacked away, Petunia smiled at him slightly. "Thanks."
Harry was taken aback. None of the Dursleys had ever thanked him before. Not for anything. "You're welcome." He replied, at a loss for anything else to say. "Um.I'm being picked up tonight by friends. You won't have to see me for the rest of the summer." He stated quietly.
"Oh." Aunt Petunia said. If anything, she sounded disappointed.
Harry looked directly at her. "Aunt Petunia, what's going on?"
"Nothing. Why do you ask?"
"It's just, you've been nice to me. You've stopped Dudley bullying me, allowed me to slack off from my chores, fed me as much as you feed yourself.why?"
Petunia sighed and went over to the table. She sat down at her chair and gestured vaguely for Harry to join her. After sitting in silence for a while, she looked up at him. "I hated her."
Harry didn't have to ask who. She was talking about her sister, Harry's mother.
"I hated her. She was always the bright one. Mum and Dad's little angel. The special one, the witch. They always paid her more attention. She got the nicest gifts at Christmas, she was always the topic of conversation. She was the focus, I just existed. But.she was still my sister, and I loved her. When I found out about her death, I was more devastated than I let on. I hated her even more for just dying on me, before I had the chance to redeem myself, to apologise for being so horrible to her and. James."
Harry looked up sharply; none of the Dursleys ever said his parents' names aloud.
"I felt I could take my anger out on you. You have her eyes, you know. You look most like your father but your eyes.it's uncanny. When I got that letter last year, when I was reminded why you had to live with us, I realised how much danger I was putting you in. That old man, Dumbledore or whatever his name is, he told me that as long as you could call this house 'home', then you'd be safe. You wouldn't be in danger. I know I've never liked you, but I certainly don't want to see you dead."
The dark haired boy in front of her was silent, or better to say struck dumb. He'd never known this woman to be civil to him, ever.
"I'm sorry Harry." Petunia said, but through those words another name was silently spoken. "I'm sorry Lily."
"I'll write." Harry said hopefully. It made him uncomfortable to see her so upset.
She gave him a watery smile. "I'll write back."
And in a sudden outburst of emotion, she pulled him into a tight hug.
~*~
At around eight o' clock that night, there came a loud knocking on the door. Dudley answered, and came face-to-face with two very strange people. One was a man in his thirties, with a pale face and light brown eyes. He was dressed in baggy blue jeans and an equally baggy red jersey, topped with a grey ankle-length trench coat and a wide brimmed hat. The other was a woman seemingly in her fifties, with wild red hair streaked with grey dressed in bellbottoms and a tasselled shirt. She had sunglasses covering her eyes and her mouth was set in a smirk.
After gaping at the visitors for a second, Dudley snapped out of his trance and yelled upstairs, "Oi, Harry! Your ride's here!" His cousin came hurtling down the stairs and Dudley tripped him up on the last step, sending him hurtling into the wall.
The woman had a long piece of wood out in a second and was pointing it at the fat boy while the man tried desperately to restrain her. "Not.in.public.Tonks!" he hissed.
Tonks grudgingly put her wand away just as Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon came out of the kitchen to see what was going on. Harry was holding onto his trunk, broom and Hedwig, acting like nothing out-of- the-ordinary was happening. He smiled at the two visitors. "Hi Professor Lupin," he said, stressing the title with a grin. "Tonks? Is that you?"
"Wotcher Harry." The woman said, winking at the dark-haired boy. She had removed her sunglasses upon entering the house. Why she was wearing them so late was a mystery to Harry.
The Dursleys, more particularly Vernon and Dudley, were watching the exchange with expressions of utmost dislike on their faces. "Well, you've come to take the boy, so get lost. Leave us in piece." Vernon said, scowling at the wizarding trio.
Lupin and Tonks led Harry outside to where a garden gnome wearing the usual pointy red hats and holding a fishing rod was sitting in the middle of the driveway. "Portkey." Lupin said in answer to Harry's puzzled expression.
Harry turned round to face the Dursleys still standing in the doorframe. "Bye then." He said.
"Bye Harry." Petunia said. Vernon merely grunted and Dudley said nothing.
Harry turned back to his friends and grinned. Lupin smiled back then turned back to the Portkey. "Ready? On three then. One, two, THREE!"
They simultaneously grabbed hold of the gnome. Harry felt the familiar sensation of a hook being jerked behind his navel and tumbled forward into nothing. To Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
~*~
Okay, I think that's where I'm going to leave Chapter One. Further on, it kinda slips out of the chapter title. That and I'm on page ten with this.
This is fun. I like crossovers. Especially crossovers that I can get in to. I've written several that aren't working. -_- As many people already know. . .
See you in the next chapter and PLEASE review!
Title: Harry Potter and the Otherworld Threat (For now. I may change it later).
Author: Kitai Shinsei
Author's Notes: I was reading Order of the Phoenix while watching Dragonball Z. Add to it that I read a Harry Potter / DBZ crossover this morning and this is the result. Another reason for this is that I'm bored out of my tiny little mind and have writers block in all my other story areas.
WARNINGS: This story contains slash. That means male/male relationships i.e. two men who are in love with each other. If you do not like this sort of thing, then GO AWAY. This also may change ratings. In other words, I might include a lemon somewhere. This story will also contain male pregnancy. Gotta love torturing them poor males. X3
Time Frame: After Order of the Phoenix in Harry Potter. In Dragonball Z, Goten and Trunks are 16 and 17 respectively. But I don't know much about this timeframe since we South Africans are watching the Buu saga, but it's early on; Gohan is just about to fight Debora and Goku has just blown up Yakkon. Anyway, Goku is alive. I don't know how yet, but he is and I won't accept flames saying he's dead. Or Vegeta for that matter since I know he apparently dies later. Everyone who I say is alive, is alive.
Um.just as a matter of interest, do Saiyans really become bound mates by biting each other's necks during mating? I've read about that in about ten different fanfics but I can't seem to find it on any factual websites. Either way, that's what I'm doing with Goku and Vegeta. I'm not trying to plagiarise anyone's work, but fanfiction can be considered plagiarism anyway so I shouldn't be in too much trouble.
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Goku/Vegeta, Remus/Someone else who I'm not saying just yet, and Trunks/Goten.
~*~
Chapter 1: New Jobs and Emotional Breakthroughs
Breakfast. The most important meal of the day. A time for sitting at the breakfast table with family enjoying the start of the new day.
"Oi, brat. Pass the milk." Said the slight Saiyan, looking up from reading the back of the cornflakes box with disinterest. His son pushed the milk carton his way nonchalantly and the dark-haired man sloshed the white liquid over the cereal, sprinkling a spoon of sugar over it before tucking in heartily.
The door opened, and another man walked in. He was tall and dressed in an orange gi and blue shirt. His hair stuck up every-which-way and his face bore a cheerful grin. "Hey 'Geta. Hey Trunks."
The older man at the table looked up, a slight smile flickering across his usually stony features. "Kakarot."
The boy waved. "How's it goin' Goku?"
"Fine." Then Goku spotted the cereal. "Oh boy, food! I'm starving!" He sat down and grabbed a bowl, filling it to the brim with cornflakes, adding milk and sugar and digging in with gusto.
There was silence for a while, as the trio went through their customary amount of ten large boxes of cereal in a single morning.
"Where's Goten?" Goku asked suddenly, having noticed that his younger son was absent.
"He left early." Trunks replied. "He didn't say where he was going."
Goku frowned slightly. "He's been strange lately. Distant. Do you know what's going on?"
"Kakarot, it's called adolescence." Vegeta told him sarcastically. "Kids usually go through it. Your brat's fine."
Goku smiled. "Yeah, you're probably right." He ruffled Vegeta's hair and the shorter Saiyan batted his hand away.
"I can think of better areas for your hands, Koi." He said, with a wicked smirk in Goku's direction.
"Uh, I'm gonna go now. I'm sure I have something that I was supposed to do in um.Africa or something." Trunks said, blushing, getting up hastily and racing from the house.
Vegeta smiled again at Goku. "We're alone, Koi." He said, stating the obvious with just the smallest waggle of eyebrows.
Goku grinned back at him, sidling over and pulling the smaller Saiyan into a tight embrace. Vegeta raised his head slightly and brushed his lips against the other man's, smiling as he felt Goku push into the kiss, running his tongue against Vegeta's mouth.
Tap, tap.
Goku lifted his head, panting slightly, and looked at the window. Vegeta moaned I protest and tried to pull his Koi's head back down.
"Um, Vegeta." "What is it, Kakarot?" Vegeta gazed in the direction Goku was looking and his eyes widened in disbelief. "Kakarot.is that an owl?"
It was. A barn owl to be exact. It was perched on the outside windowsill and was pecking repeatedly at the window. Attached to its leg was a small tube.
Goku stood up, slowly making his way to the window and opening it. The owl hooted and fluttered in, perching on the edge of the sink and holding out its leg, clearly indicating for Goku to take the tube. The Saiyan did so and the owl hooted gratefully, then began drinking water from the dripping tap. Goku took a bowl and filled it for the bird, then went and sat next to Vegeta who was still staring at the owl in amazement.
"What did it bring Kakarot?" the older Saiyan asked.
Goku opened the tube and pulled out a rolled up envelope that was sealed with red wax. The envelope bore a crest that depicted a lion, a snake, a badger and an eagle all surrounding a large letter 'H'. On the front were the words:
Prince Vegeta and Mr Goku Son
The Kitchen
Middle of Nowhere
Japan
"It's addressed to us." Goku said, snapping the seal, pulling out the letter enclosed and proceeding to read it aloud to his mate.
"Dear Prince Vegeta and Mr Son.
We at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are in dire need of
your assistance. It has come to our attention that our enemy, the Dark
Lord Voldemort, has joined forces with an old foe of yours who goes by
the name of Frieza."
"Frieza? But he's dead! We killed him!" Vegeta said, eyes widening.
Goku shrugged and read on:
"We know that this Frieza has been destroyed by you, but Voldemort has
somehow been able to summon his spirit. He has begun the quest for what
we believe to be a deadly weapon. It is known as a 'Dragonball'. We are
uncertain of what it does, but our sources have told us that you may
know something about this.
One of our subjects at the school is Defence Against the Dark Arts.
While that position has been filled, we would be grateful if you would
join us as co-teachers in that field. Voldemort has a number of strange
new creatures at his command, and we do not know how to deal with them.
We believe you do. Should you decide to take up with post you will be
provided with food and living quarters. We are aware that you have
children living with you. They are welcome to join us at the school as
well and learn some of the arts we teach here.
We would be grateful if you would reply as soon as possible. The owl
that brought this to you will bring a return letter to us once it has
rested.
Sincerely
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"
Goku finished reading and stared at Vegeta. "What do you make of this."
"Under normal circumstances I'd say let them handle their own problems." Vegeta said slowly, frowning. "But this is Frieza we're talking about. He could easily manipulate this "Voldemort" person into wishing him back to life stronger than ever. We can't take that chance."
Goku nodded. "Where do you suppose this school is?"
"I have no idea. Why don't you read that owl's mind? It might hold something useful." Vegeta said, snorting.
The older Saiyan edged towards the bird carefully. It stared at him with doleful yellow eyes and hooted gently. Goku hesitantly touched the owl's head and when it didn't flinch away from him, he pressed his palm firmly against the feathers and concentrated.
They were meaningless flashes mostly. Endless flapping over water, hunts and kills, desert, strange lands, until, with a dash of fondness, a huge castle appeared, rearing tall and proud over a lake, situated between majestic mountains. There were other owls there, and children, teachers too. One in particular was an old man with a long white beard who smiled and fed the bird with Owl Treats and spoke softly.
Goku pulled his hand away and opened his eyes. "It's a castle. And I think it's in England or something 'cause the man spoke with a British accent."
Vegeta's eyes widened. "England? That could prove fun. Wet, but fun nonetheless."
"I thought you liked the rain." Goku said, shooting his Koi an overly innocent look.
"Only when it's all over you Kakarot."
~*~
At the same time, a few thousand kilometers away in Surrey, England, it was drawing close to evening. A boy in his mid teens with a shock of raven dark hair, long gangly limbs, baggy, ill-fitting clothes and round glasses covering bright emerald-green eyes sat under a tree in the garden of his aunt and uncles house. His knees were drawn up close to his body, his arms were folded around them, hugging them close, and he rested his head against them. Harry Potter had sat in this same position at this same time every single afternoon since he had returned home from school for the summer.
Unbeknownst to him, a woman had watched him every time he sat there, almost puzzled at the emotion she was beginning to feel towards this boy. For close on fifteen years of his life, she had raised him in her home, belittling everything he did, despising him for what he was, but most of all, for who he reminded her of. Those eyes were so like her sister's, his mother's. Petunia Dursley was puzzled, because she had never felt anything but contempt for the boy, and to have fondness and an almost concern shunt the contempt aside was a new experience for her.
She opened the kitchen door and moved hesitantly towards her nephew, not speaking until she was right up close to him. He gave no indication of having noticed the intrusion. She took a deep breath. "Harry?"
The boy stirred, and looked up at her, puzzlement in his eyes. He had never heard her address him in that tone. His face was dirt-streaked as if he'd been crying.
"Are you all right?"
"What do you care?" He replied bitterly. "What, have I neglected to do yet another chore you conveniently forgot to tell me I was to do?"
Petunia winced at the hard words, their sting doubled because they were true. "You seem.different.since you came back. You seem.troubled."
"Ah. Troubled. Yet another person who thinks I'm insane." Harry pressed his head against his knees again, his last couple of words muffled slightly.
"I don't think you're insane. I meant that you seem sad. Upset."
"Why would I be upset?" Harry said, looking up at her again incredulously. "I'm stuck back here, my world is divided and at war and the closest person I ever had to a father was murdered in front of me."
Petunia gasped. "Murdered? Who was murdered? Was this at your school?"
"No. Somewhere else. And it was my godfather. Sirius. They killed him when he was fighting to save me." His green eyes filled with tears and he hid his head in his knees again, embarrassed.
"I'm sorry." Petunia said. She couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Why are you being nice to me?" Harry asked suddenly. "Has hell frozen over and I missed something?"
Petunia sighed. "You'd better get washed up for dinner. Vernon and Dudley will be home any minute."
Without a word, Harry stood, brushed himself down and stalked inside up to his room. Petunia watched him go then shook her head. She'd had no idea what he'd been through. She could not imagine watching someone she loved die.
~*~
Up in his room, Harry was puzzled by his aunt's behaviour. It was exceedingly un-Dursley-like. For someone who despised the very air he breathed, she was being remarkable civil.
He exhaled loudly and flopped down on the bed, staring at the clock. It was 16:10. Still a long time left before he could sleep.
Suddenly, he heard the familiar rush of wings, and knew his owl, Hedwig, must have returned from her hunt. He sat up, grateful for some company, then stopped. It wasn't Hedwig. It was an eagle owl. It hooted importantly and held out it's talon for Harry to take the letter it bore, then ruffled its feathers and took off out of the window.
Harry stared at the letter. His name was written neatly on the front in handwriting he vaguely recognised. He opened it and his heart leapt. It was from Lupin. Professor Remus Lupin had been the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in Harry's third year and was, in Harry's opinion, the best teacher in that subject he'd ever had. Well, considering his DADA teachers had been, in chronological order, a Voldemort supporter in first year, an egotistical fraud in second, Lupin in third, a Voldemort supporter and a fraud in fourth and a psychopath in his fifth year, he didn't have much to choose from.
Harry read his letter hurriedly.
Dear Harry,
How are your holidays so far? Hell, I don't know why I'm asking, I know
they must be bloody awful. I miss him just as much as you do, maybe
even more.
Actually, I'm writing to tell you some good news, Dumbledore's asked me
to fill in the job of Defense Against the Dark Arts post. I won't say
much more in this field. Usual paranoia about letters being
intercepted.
We'll be asking you to join us soon anyway; I'll explain more then.
Take care Harry. I know it hurts. Believe me, I know.
Remus
Harry felt a wan smile flicker across his features. Lupin really was the only person who understood him. No one else had been that close to Sirius, but Remus had been one of his best friends.
Harry sighed and stashed the letter in his usual hiding place under a loose floorboard below his bed. There were a few letters from Ron and Hermione under there, along with dust and a couple of spiders. If he didn't leave Privet Drive before his birthday, then it would stay pretty sparse, but if not, then he'd have a lot of stuff to shove under there.
Harry suddenly heard his uncle and cousin arrive home and did as Aunt Petunia asked. He washed his face and hands, trying to ignore the haunted look he bore in his eyes. Then he made his way downstairs to continue the charade of being the same old loathed Harry they always knew. Only Aunt Petunia looked at him in a new light.
~*~
A week before Harry's birthday, a note arrived for him, scrawled in his best friend Ron's handwriting. It was attached to the leg of Ron's tiny owl, Pigwidgeon, who fluttered around Harry's room like a winged tennis ball on a caffeine high. The note consisted of eight words:
Be ready tonight. Lupin and Tonks fetching you.
Excitement filling him, Harry quickly packed away what homework he had managed to do and piled his books, robes and clothes into his trunk (he had removed the robes to prevent them developing a musty smell).
Harry then went downstairs to inform his relatives of his imminent departure. He arrived in the kitchen to find his uncle had left for work, and Dudley was off terrorising the neighbourhood children. Aunt Petunia was the only one there, wiping off recently washed dishes and putting them away. Silently, Harry helped her, still puzzled by her kind attitude towards him in the past week or so.
When the last plate was stacked away, Petunia smiled at him slightly. "Thanks."
Harry was taken aback. None of the Dursleys had ever thanked him before. Not for anything. "You're welcome." He replied, at a loss for anything else to say. "Um.I'm being picked up tonight by friends. You won't have to see me for the rest of the summer." He stated quietly.
"Oh." Aunt Petunia said. If anything, she sounded disappointed.
Harry looked directly at her. "Aunt Petunia, what's going on?"
"Nothing. Why do you ask?"
"It's just, you've been nice to me. You've stopped Dudley bullying me, allowed me to slack off from my chores, fed me as much as you feed yourself.why?"
Petunia sighed and went over to the table. She sat down at her chair and gestured vaguely for Harry to join her. After sitting in silence for a while, she looked up at him. "I hated her."
Harry didn't have to ask who. She was talking about her sister, Harry's mother.
"I hated her. She was always the bright one. Mum and Dad's little angel. The special one, the witch. They always paid her more attention. She got the nicest gifts at Christmas, she was always the topic of conversation. She was the focus, I just existed. But.she was still my sister, and I loved her. When I found out about her death, I was more devastated than I let on. I hated her even more for just dying on me, before I had the chance to redeem myself, to apologise for being so horrible to her and. James."
Harry looked up sharply; none of the Dursleys ever said his parents' names aloud.
"I felt I could take my anger out on you. You have her eyes, you know. You look most like your father but your eyes.it's uncanny. When I got that letter last year, when I was reminded why you had to live with us, I realised how much danger I was putting you in. That old man, Dumbledore or whatever his name is, he told me that as long as you could call this house 'home', then you'd be safe. You wouldn't be in danger. I know I've never liked you, but I certainly don't want to see you dead."
The dark haired boy in front of her was silent, or better to say struck dumb. He'd never known this woman to be civil to him, ever.
"I'm sorry Harry." Petunia said, but through those words another name was silently spoken. "I'm sorry Lily."
"I'll write." Harry said hopefully. It made him uncomfortable to see her so upset.
She gave him a watery smile. "I'll write back."
And in a sudden outburst of emotion, she pulled him into a tight hug.
~*~
At around eight o' clock that night, there came a loud knocking on the door. Dudley answered, and came face-to-face with two very strange people. One was a man in his thirties, with a pale face and light brown eyes. He was dressed in baggy blue jeans and an equally baggy red jersey, topped with a grey ankle-length trench coat and a wide brimmed hat. The other was a woman seemingly in her fifties, with wild red hair streaked with grey dressed in bellbottoms and a tasselled shirt. She had sunglasses covering her eyes and her mouth was set in a smirk.
After gaping at the visitors for a second, Dudley snapped out of his trance and yelled upstairs, "Oi, Harry! Your ride's here!" His cousin came hurtling down the stairs and Dudley tripped him up on the last step, sending him hurtling into the wall.
The woman had a long piece of wood out in a second and was pointing it at the fat boy while the man tried desperately to restrain her. "Not.in.public.Tonks!" he hissed.
Tonks grudgingly put her wand away just as Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon came out of the kitchen to see what was going on. Harry was holding onto his trunk, broom and Hedwig, acting like nothing out-of- the-ordinary was happening. He smiled at the two visitors. "Hi Professor Lupin," he said, stressing the title with a grin. "Tonks? Is that you?"
"Wotcher Harry." The woman said, winking at the dark-haired boy. She had removed her sunglasses upon entering the house. Why she was wearing them so late was a mystery to Harry.
The Dursleys, more particularly Vernon and Dudley, were watching the exchange with expressions of utmost dislike on their faces. "Well, you've come to take the boy, so get lost. Leave us in piece." Vernon said, scowling at the wizarding trio.
Lupin and Tonks led Harry outside to where a garden gnome wearing the usual pointy red hats and holding a fishing rod was sitting in the middle of the driveway. "Portkey." Lupin said in answer to Harry's puzzled expression.
Harry turned round to face the Dursleys still standing in the doorframe. "Bye then." He said.
"Bye Harry." Petunia said. Vernon merely grunted and Dudley said nothing.
Harry turned back to his friends and grinned. Lupin smiled back then turned back to the Portkey. "Ready? On three then. One, two, THREE!"
They simultaneously grabbed hold of the gnome. Harry felt the familiar sensation of a hook being jerked behind his navel and tumbled forward into nothing. To Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
~*~
Okay, I think that's where I'm going to leave Chapter One. Further on, it kinda slips out of the chapter title. That and I'm on page ten with this.
This is fun. I like crossovers. Especially crossovers that I can get in to. I've written several that aren't working. -_- As many people already know. . .
See you in the next chapter and PLEASE review!