Alright, so full disclaimer, this one is OLD. I mean, this one, according to my PC and the metadata assigned to this file, was that this was created back in 2015, back backlogged, and now I am finally coming back to it.
This pilot comes from an idea that I had a while ago that I formulated as a challenge that I never sent out to anyone, primarily because it was more like a summary than a challenge, you can see said story idea on my profile still if you do some scrolling (assuming that I haven't deleted it).
Things I am going to address right away is that this is an idea I have yet to see replicated here on this site at all (not the crossover, but the premise of the story) so I am proud to say that the plot I am proposing with this chapter is completely original. As for pairings I have two in mind, though I won't say anything more on them unless there's more interest in the story. I will state that there will be no Male!Slash aka M/M as that's not my thing to write or read about. There will be no harems or covens as that would conflict with Harry's line of work, but you'll read more about that shortly.
I will say this immediately, there will be creative freedoms taken on things such as the date in order to make it work as well as the mystical use of the magical McGuffin in terms of rituals at least for this pilot chapter.
Disclaimer: I only own my copy of MS Word and my desktop. Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and NCIS belongs to CBS. This idea is wholly mine. See the foreword for the full disclaimer.
Now that that's all out of the way, let's get this show on the road!
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"Speaking."
'Thinking.'
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Godric's Hollow, Potter residence. October 31, 1990.
The Potter family was a weird one, they always were. Their eldest, Hadrian James Potter was born on July 31, 1989. His siblings, Charlus and Rose, were born on July 30, 1990. One could look in little Harry's eyes and see an inquisitive, intelligent nature even at fifteen months of age and a will to survive. All three of the children had a massive magical presence, even at their young ages, one that two very powerful mages in the British Isles feared: one Albus Dumbledore and one Tom Riddle aka Voldemort. Dumbledore had learned by way of a very shaky prophecy that there were four people that could bring down Voldemort, one of the Potter children or one Neville Longbottom. In his meddling persuasiveness, Dumbledore persuaded the two sets of parents to hide with their children under the Fidelis charm performed by him with Secret Keepers that he chose.
This day was just like any ordinary day, however, today was Halloween and James and Lily were at their breaking point. They had Cabin Fever from being stuck inside of a fairly large home, but absolutely no time to themselves. So, they decided to do something risky, the two of them were going to go out to a movie like they used to before Harry was born, have dinner, and come back home. James had asked his parents, Charlus and Vivian, to babysit the 'troublesome trio' as they had been dubbed by Sirius.
The elderly couple had gotten the twins to bed, however, little Harry was being stubborn. Something was keeping the little lad up and his grandparents couldn't figure out what it was that was bothering him. That was until they felt the wards collapse sharply. You see when James and Lily gave James' parents the task of watching the children, they also gave them control of the wards in case something were to happen, like there is now.
"Vivian, get the children in the nursery! I'll hold them off as long as I can!" Charlus told his wife.
Voldemort stood just outside the now fallen ward boundaries with a twisted smile. He had sacrificed some of the new blood that had come into the Death Eater ranks or those that failed him in order to bring down the wards completely. He didn't need to take down the Fidelis, his traitor to the Light did that for him. They were nothing in comparison to his inner circle. A few of this inner circle strongly suggested that he take them along, but he didn't need anyone's help in killing the Mudblood or the Bloodtraitor or their Half-Blood children. He cast a blasting hex at the door, which flew off the hinges.
Instead of coming face to face with James Potter or his wife, Voldemort saw the elderly Lord Charlus Potter. "Blood traitor," Voldemort spat.
"Half-blood poser," Charlus quipped. Voldemort let an expression of surprise appear. "Oh, you thought all of us were fooled, Mr. Riddle? You think you're the only one who knows how to use anagrams?"
"You will take that to your grave."
"Perhaps," Charlus shrugged. "But you will not harm the children this night, en garde!" he yelled as he launched into a flurry of spells.
Meanwhile, Vivian was upstairs with the children. She knew that Charlus would only be able to fight off the Dark Lord for a certain amount of time. Charlus was once a dueling champion while he was in the heyday of his youth, but her husband wasn't as young and limber as he used to be, neither was she. Vivian in her heyday was a master potions mistress as well as being an expert in charms and runes. She was also an expert in protective rituals passed down since the Potter family began some millennia ago.
She had created a boundary complete with several different sets of runes out of magically conductive chalk around the children, the twins in the crib along with Harry to keep them all together. She started chanting in several languages starting out in Latin, then French, followed by German, and finally Norwegian. The chalk glowed blue as she finished the last line of her chant. Satisfied she turned around and drew her wand and prepared for the inevitable. She knew what was going to happen, she didn't need a seer's orb from the Department of Mysteries to tell her.
The door burst open and she covered her eyes from the splinters of wood flying at her. She uncovered her eyes to see the Dark Lord in all his evil glory. His robed looked more ragged than eye witness accounts stated he looked like, Charlus must have given the Dark Lord a run for his money.
"Put that wand down, old woman. I already killed your barely competent blood traitor husband. Move aside and I will let you live the pathetic remainder of your life," the Dark Lord said pointing his wand as well at Vivian. She didn't move as she kept her wand pointed at the Dark Lord. "So be it, Avada Kedavra!" he shouted. One moment the elderly Lady Potter was standing there defiantly, the next she fell to the ground like a marionette after its strings were cut.
Voldemort slowly strolled over to the three children, stepping over the corpse of their dead grandmother. The three children were crying, the twins more than the elder boy. The Dark Lord once again pointed his wand, he would kill them one by one to make sure that the prophecy foretelling his death wouldn't come to pass. He pointed his wand at the elder Potter boy, unknowingly still standing behind the line drawn by Vivian Potter. Voldemort cast the killing curse once more, instead of touching the child it froze in place on a barrier that sprung up in front of the Dark Lord. He was shocked, to say the least, but before he could say, do, or think anything else the killing curse that was frozen in place shot back at him, disintegrating him on impact.
The fractured spirit of Voldemort erupted from his corporeal form, it rammed against the barrier in a futile attempt to possess one of the children in retribution. As his spirit kept beating against the barrier, it kept fluxing until it finally exploded outwards. As the explosion went throughout the house it destroyed everything outside the bubble. When the wave of destruction passed there was one person missing from the house, one Harry Potter.
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Meanwhile in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. October 31, 1980.
While a family lost its patriarch and matriarch, a young couple was sitting in a park on a park bench dealing with a tragedy of their own. Both slouched forward at the news they had been presented with only a few hours ago. The man's name is Jeremy, age twenty-three, he stands at an above average height of five foot eleven inches, around one hundred and sixty pounds, sea green eyes, brown hair, Caucasian, and has a more toned build as per his work's requirements. One could say he has boyish looks.
His wife Coleen sitting next to him is a beautiful young woman aged twenty-two, she stands at around five feet four inches, around one hundred twenty pounds, long black hair that looked as it was made of silk, sky blue eyes, also Caucasian, and a petite figure. She had the shape that most women would have to do extensive dieting to achieve.
"And… the doctor is certain?" Jeremy asked.
"Yes," Coleen sadly said. "There's too much scarring on my uterine walls. I won't be able to conceive, ever."
She wept softly as her husband pulled her close. "Don't worry, we'll get through this, alright?" They sat there for a while, just thinking. When they were pulled out of their thoughts by the sound of an infant or toddler crying. The couple looked around, searching, but found the child in front of them sitting in front of a tree with blue pajamas on. Jeremy approached the child, "Hey there, little fella. How'd you get here?" The child latched onto Jeremy. "Don't worry kiddo, everything's going to be fine."
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Two months later, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. December 25, 1990.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T FIND MY SON!?" Lily yelled at the headmaster. She had been moody and depressed since Harry went missing. They knew he wasn't dead since his trust vault was still active, if he had died it would have been closed down and all the funds returned to the family vault. Ever since then manhunts were launched on both the Muggle and wizarding side of the world. Aurors occasionally worked cross cases with squib police forces so it was easy to put out a missing person report for young Harry.
"We have tried everything, my dear," Dumbledore stated in a futile attempt to calm the young mother. "I have been studying the runes that your mother-in-law wrote on the floor that night. There were several variations of different language styles. One commonly repeating phrase was 'keep them safe'. My thought is that Madam Potter was vague in the time allotted. That could give the array and the semi-sentient nature of magic itself many different ways of keeping the children safe. For Harry, he was sent somewhere safe as magic defines 'safe'. There's not much we can do, other than keep an eye out. After all, you still have young Rose and Charlus to take care of."
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Meanwhile with 'Harry'. December 25, 1980.
Jeremy and Coleen were enjoying their first Christmas with their newly adopted son who now went by the name Michael. The couple had contacted every law enforcement agency they could think of to try to find the unnamed child's parents. After a month no one had filed a missing person report for anyone with the child's description.
The couple had petitioned Child Protective Services for them to adopt the child. After another week of background checks and form filling the originally unnamed child became Michael James Weston. Little Mikey had become quite attached to the couple, despite only knowing them for a short time. He was always a happy child and some strange things would occasionally happen like electronics shorting out, or Mikey getting a hold of something out of reach behind their backs. The couple thought it was strange, but they quickly fixed the situations in which these things happened and chalked it up to Mikey being a little sheister and laughed it off.
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September 1, 1985
It was the first day of school for Michael. His parents had raised him well in the four years that he had lived with them, though they never told him he was adopted, they planned on doing that when he was a bit older. Michael was both excited and nervous about his first day of kindergarten. Jeremy had already left for work but made sure to say goodbye to both Michael and Collen. They were outside their home where Coleen was straightening Michael's outfit of classic denim jeans and a red t-shirt.
"So, Mikey, do you have your backpack?" Coleen asked. Michael nodded quickly several times. "And do you have your snack for snack time?" He nodded again. She gave her son a hug as the school bus rolled up, "Now remember to have a great first day, ok?"
Michael nodded again before stepping onto the semi-chaotic bus. He walked down the aisle looking for a seat when he saw an unoccupied one next to a girl his age with jet black hair dressed similarly to him, except for a red skirt and leggings instead of pants.
"Excuse me," Michael timidly asked, pulling the girl's attention away from the book she was reading. "Is this seat taken?"
"No. But you can sit here if you want," she replied cheerfully.
He sat down next to the girl and extended his hand towards her as his dad taught him for politely introducing oneself. "My name is Michael Weston."
She gripped his hand, shaking it saying, "And I'm Abigail Schuto. You can call me Abby."
Little did they know that this would be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
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June 10, 1990
Coleen was in the kitchen making lunch for the two ten-year-olds playing soccer outside in the front yard. She peeked outside and smiled as she saw the two laughing. She looked back to cut some watermelon slices when she heard a car horn, followed by screeching tires, a little girl's scream, finally ending with an earsplitting crack.
Coleen ran outside to see a man in a pickup truck panicking. "Oh my God, they came outta nowhere!" She ran to the front of the truck and saw nothing. No dead or injured bodies, no blood, nothing that would indicate that Michael or his friend Abigail were hurt.
"Michael! Abigail!" Coleen yelled desperately.
A minute passed before she heard, "Mom?"
She turned around to see Harry and Abigail on the roof looking extremely confused. "How did you two get up there?"
"I dunno. I kicked the ball too hard and Abby went to go get it. I saw the truck and went to push her out of the way and we both ended up here," Michael replied.
"Ok, you just stay right there, I'm going to go get a ladder, ok?" The two only nodded.
"Excuse me, ma'am, can we have a moment of your time?" a woman asked from behind her. She turned around to see two people, a man, and a woman, in black suits.
"Can't this wait? My son and his friend are stuck on my roof for no apparent reason!"
"That's actually why we're here. Jake would you-."
"I'm already on it," her partner replied as he walked over to the edge of the roof.
Coleen looked at the driver and saw that he looked a little dazed. When she turned back around, she saw that Michael and Abigail were running towards her, Michael hugging his mother for dear life. "How did you-?" Coleen asked, beyond confused.
"That's what we wish to speak to you about, ma'am," Jake stated. "If we could please take this inside before more people notice that would be wonderful."
Two hours of explanations and questions and answers later Coleen, and by being in the room, Michael and Abigail learned that Michael was a wizard and Abigail was a witch. The agents from the Department of Magic's Accidental Magic Clean-up Bureau had told them what Michael had done was considered 'accidental magic' when he Apparated or teleported, from the street to save Abigail onto the roof. When Coleen told the agents that Abigail was not her child, but Michael's friend they then took her home and explained to her parents, after much pantomiming and over-enunciation of words when speaking before Abigail translated what they said into American Sign Language.
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March 8, 1996.
It was springtime in Baton Rouge and everyone at Mike and Abby's high school could feel it. Primarily because the Spring Formal was right around the corner. Mike Weston was an oddball of sorts, he had the eyes of all the girls in his sophomore class, and some in the junior and freshman classes, and yet he only seemed to hang out with one Abby Schuto. Mike was on the JV basketball team and he had the attention of every girl on him but yet brushed off their advances. Even the head cheerleader which every guy, and even a few girls, wanted to get in her pants was throwing herself at Mike. Upperclassmen swore he was gay; however, he was defended by his teammates who swore they saw he had Playboy magazines in his bag a few times. Of course, that didn't stop his teammates from ribbing him.
Abby was also an oddball. She was a happy, cheerful Goth. She was two of the things that the group would never really be. She explained that she only wore the style and loved the music, but that was it. Michael was spending his free hour napping with his head down on a cafeteria table when someone sat next to him.
"So, Mikey, a little bird told me that you aren't going to the Spring Formal with anyone," Abby stated.
He turned his head and saw his peppy Goth friend. "Yeah, so?"
"You could go with any girl in our year, even Hot Megan, she's called that for a reason, and yet you turn her down."
"She's also a slut. She keeps bragging that's she's screwed every guy on the varsity football team at least once," he replied. "Yeah, I'm not playing STD roulette with her, even if she if the rumors are true that she's a good lay."
"Ok, bad example. But still, you're not taking anyone?"
"Not really. I don't feel like going."
"Oh, why not? Is this because of your dad?"
"You heard?"
"He's getting reassigned to DC, right?"
"He already left. We're following at the end of the year."
They both sat there for a while before Abby spoke up. "Go to the dance with me."
"Huh?"
"You heard me. Why not just go and enjoy the time we have left together?"
"I guess…" he trailed.
"Then you better pick me up at 7!" she cheerily said as she ran back to her house.
That night the both of them would enjoy each other's company and would even share a kiss together. The rest of the school year would pass to the point where nothing impressive happened. Two weeks after the school year ended, Michael left with his mother for Washington. Letters would be passed between the two teens, but eventually, they would lose touch. But that lack of communication wouldn't keep them from passing each other in the future.
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Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Main Hall. October 31, 2004. 11 pm, GMT.
There was a sense of excitement and dread in the air. It was time for the 'choosening' as some of the students had called it. The chosen students that volunteered from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstang would have a singular champion chosen from amongst each of them in order to seek glory and fame from their classmates as well as the Wizarding world as a whole. The students were excited to see what would happen. But for one family, though, the night's festivities were underscored by tragedy.
At the head table, Missus Lilly Potter, professor of Muggle Studies, sat poking at food as this night reminded her of the loss that she and the rest of her family endured. Normally, the Potter clan would vanish the night of October 31st and would return the next day having a private memorial back at their property in Godric's Hollow where the house that was once destroyed laid demolished and a small memorial remained. It had been decided that no home could be built upon that spot. Unfortunately, the Potter family could not silently mourn the loss of a son and brother, they had to look on with false smiles and enthusiasm as one of their classmates, and one from each of the rival schools, would be chosen and immortalized as the first Champions of the newly revived Triwizard Tournament.
The students and the faculties of both schools had finished their meals and were waiting for Dumbledore and Bagman to announce the Champions. The first was no surprise as his name was being thrown around as a contender: Cedric Diggory. The next entry was more shocking than surprising, one Fleur Delacour. She was more shocking due to seeming more of the posh kind of girl that may not want to get her hands dirty. The final entry was definitely not a surprise as well as he had made his intentions well known: Viktor Krum. As each of their names was called, they vacated the hall and entered the small chamber behind the Main Hall as instructed. However, after the final name was called, the Goblet of Fire still remained lit. The next name that came out turned Dumbledore's face paler than any ghost that ever inhabited the halls of Hogwarts. The crowd was absolutely silent as they too were confused as to why a fourth name came out when it was the 'Triwizard' tournament, hence three wizards (or witches) names called.
The next words that left his lips came across as a whisper, "Harry Potter."
Lily's ears perked up at this name and was instantly filled with rage. How dare someone put her deceased son's name in like this! Before she could march down to where Dumbledore stood, a bright white flash happened before them revealing two men struggling.
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Baton Rouge, Louisiana. October 31, 2004. 5 pm, CST.
One Michael Cohen was not having the greatest of evenings. Instead of spending time with friends having a beer and watching the game, he had to chase a deranged murderer that believed the Earth was flat who killed a Marine three nights before and they were hot on his trail.
The suspect's trail led them to a dingy hotel he was basing all of his attacks outside of. It took many days of sifting through data such as phone records and ATM cameras. But finally, they found the quarry. Michael and his partner Marie were at the scene and ready to breach the motel room. They both had their pistols drawn and were standing on either side of the door frame. Michael looked to his partner who nodded in return. She was as ready as he was. He knocked hard on the door.
"James McMahon, NCIS, open up!" Michael shouted, announcing his presence.
Several gunshots rang out and several bullet holes appeared in the door. "You'll never take me alive, Navy cops!"
Michael looked again to his partner, "Why do they always have to be cliché? Do they think this is a movie or something?" She only shrugged.
"There's no way you'll get out of this alive, James," Marie continued. "Surrender now."
There were more shots that came through the door. "Got any other ideas?" Before any rebuttal could be made, there was the sound of dryfiring. Without hesitating, Michael kicked down the door and rushed the suspect and tackled him. The gun that James had, a revolver, slid across the ground away from his grip. In his adrenaline-fueled action, he didn't realize that there was a bright white flash in the room and that the area he was in changed.
He wrestled the man's hands behind his back and cuffed them. "James McMahon, you are under arrest for the murders of Jennifer Rambau, Tyler Jameson, and Terrance Rafaux. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and if you cannot afford one, one will be provided by the state. Do you understand your rights?" All he heard were muffled face-in-concrete sounds. "Close enough."
He hauled the man up and stood up to walk him out of what he perceived to be the motel room still. But when he looked towards where he expected his partner to be, he saw a hall filled with children and some adults. "Don't mind me, official police business," he tried to nonchalantly walk off.
"Harry Potter?" an old man that looked like a bad rendition of Gandalf asked.
"I'm sorry, who?" Michael asked in turn. He turned to the man currently in his custody. "You're not this 'Harry Potter' guy, are you?"
"I'm the conductor of the poop train!" James shouted.
"Ok, maybe I hit him too hard," Michael admitted. It was then he noticed that he was somewhere where the dominant accent was heavy British. "So, where am I anyway?"
To be continued…?
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This one was several years in the making, mostly because of forgetting that it existed. Now that I read through it again and came back to finish it, the whole idea was a Harry that was temporally displaced and went a different path in life due to not being influenced by the magical world at all as well as being in a different family altogether. One thing that should be noted is that this story was created before the reveal of Illvermory so I decided to stick with it until it was finished.
The whole idea of the story going from the end of this pilot forward is that Harry/Michael has to look back on his life with the context and reveal of magic to figure out what he really is. Not just that, but he will need to figure out how he'll continue on knowing that he had a family, time traveled, was raised by a different family, and is different; not just that but also having to hide it from everyone he knows and loves. It's going to be a whole thing.
For those of you that thought I cranked this out really fast. Just remember that this was started about 4 years ago and I just finished it up within the last day. I'm glad it's finally done. Let me know what you think about it. See you next time in whatever I do next.