Venomous Wizardry PG-13
Niklas "Hawk"
Jonsson
Summary: Being Harry Potter isn't all that easy, especially not when the house he's grown up in is destroyed in a freak disaster and a bloodthirsty alien symbiote decides to start moonlighting as his boxer shorts! Harry Potter/Venom xover.
Disclaimer: Harry
Potter, Hogwarts and whatnot are not mine, though I certainly wish
they were. The story is mine though, all mine.
If the layout looks
screwy or symbols seems to be missing, you're probably reading the
quickedit-mangled version of this fic on ff dot net, if it grates on
your nerves too much, read it on hawksgalaxy dot com or something.
... Whenever I get around to uploading it there. :)
Feedback/Flames:
Yes, please. Both of them are equally fun to read, although I must
admit that I greatly prefer the first variety. :)
I can be found
on ICQ as 21771860, MSN Messenger/E-mail as iamhawk at yahoo dot com,
though not very frequently as real life lately interferes with my
online existence more then I'd like. More stories are available at my
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above.
"speech"
emphasis/shouts/Kindred
Domination/post-hypnotic
triggers
/thoughts/
/telepathy/
translation
+soundeffect/radio/telephone
conversation/TV+
Previously, on 'Venomous Wizardry'
He rapidly found his way to Gringotts and after flashing his key, soon found himself standing in his vault where he poured a significant amount of coins into his trunk for later use and as much as he could fit into his pockets for instant access.
The amount he could fit into his pockets was rather surprising, but his sentient boxer shorts explained to him how distances and volume could be deceptive at times. Apparently, the insides of his pockets could become larger then they were on the outside, if he so desired. Much larger, apparently.
Harry shrugged it off as inconsequential. There were spells that could do the same, he knew. So he didn't care overly much if his weird boxers could duplicate the effects of that.
/Do you get dirty/ he mentally asked his clothes as he walked out of the bank. /Y'know, should I get some other clothes I can wear when you're being washed or something/
/We are self-maintaining and fully capable of disposing of any foreign substances./ his clothes informed him in what felt like an offended note. /We will never require washing./ it stiffly added as it sensed that Harry hadn't quite understood what it was getting at.
/Guess that's solved then. How much can you change? I mean, can you turn into a winter coat, a robe or things like that/ Harry asked.
/We most certainly can./ his clothes responded. /Though we need not worry about variations in temperature, no matter our form. We are capable of sustaining an optimal living environment none the less./
/Oh. Cool./ Harry thought approvingly. /Well, I guess I need a place to stay, then./ he reasoned and strode off, wondering where he might be able to find a place to stay for the night as the hour was getting late.
Some time later, he found himself standing in front of the Brown Hotel. He had found out after asking a wizard on the street, that The Leaky Cauldron offered rooms for rent, but that the best accommodations in Diagon Alley could be found at the Brown Hotel.
Entering the establishment in question, was another example of distances and appearances being deceiving. The outside looked like a rickety old wooden building, just like most to be found in Diagon Alley. The inside however was resplendent. Gleaming marble walls, polished wooden floor and an inside much larger then the outside of the building.
He signed in at the reception and paid for his room, using the name Neville Longbottom, hoping that Nev wouldn't mind him using his name. It was for a good cause, however. He had no desire whatsoever of dealing with the hassle of being Harry Potter at the moment. He just wanted to get some rest in a soft bed, he could return to being Harry Potter in the morning.
Roll credits
Chapter Two: The Snape of Things to Come
"Snork..." Harry snored as the symbiote did some research. The alien creature had assumed the form of the same black boxer shorts it had turned into after first meeting with its current host. Extending from those shorts, were several small tentacles which was currently rummaging through Harry's trunk. One of the tentacles had manifested a human-looking eye at the end, an eye which was currently reading a book on charms from Harry's trunk.
While it had gleamed an understanding of sorts about the subject from Harry's mind, its own understanding of the subject was only as good as Harry's at the moment. Reading the book improved on this, as the alien creature was significantly more mentally advanced then its current host. The host was still developing, not even two decades old and still had a lot of maturing left to do, both physical, mental and emotional.
The symbiote had seen more then five centuries since it came to awareness, had been through a handful of hosts previously, before it had been separated from the last one, sealed in the boulder and then sent off into space. It had spent the last seventy years hurling through space, before it had entered the atmosphere of this planet and crashed into its current hosts former domicile.
It hadn't encountered anything like this magic thing before, however. This was something completely out of its previous experiences, but it seemed extremely interesting.
And incredibly useful.
The downside of it all, was that it could only siphon a very limited amount of power from the host. As the symbiote lacked all means to produce its own magic energy and was severely lacking in it's capability to store magic energy, it was fully dependent on the host for the means to fuel any magic acts.
But as the host developed, so too would the symbiote. Meaning that one of the foremost goals would have to be to hasten the development of the current host to his full potential. The host was already far more powerful then it had been when they first joined, but the symbiote could sense a far greater inherent potential in the host. Now it just had to find out just how to encourage the growth of the host until that potential was fulfilled.
A more powerful host, meant that the symbiote would be safer, which was a priority as the host seemed to be prone to dangerous situations and that could endanger the symbiote as well.
Something would have to be done about that.
"Where did all these books come from!" Harry exclaimed as he woke up and returned from a visit to the bathroom, only to be faced with piles of books all over the room.
/We spent the night studying and we ran out of our books./ the voice in his head informed him.
"Where did you get them!" Harry demanded to know.
/The bookstore here in the alley./ his shorts replied.
"You broke into a store and stole books?" Harry demanded to know.
/No. We left money on the counter./ was the uncaring response. /The pile on our right contains highly recommended reading. The one on your far left is pure drivel. The others are merely recommended reading./ it added.
"Don't you need to sleep?" Harry asked.
/We require brief periods of hibernation, yes. But roughly one hour per daily cycle is sufficient./ was the uncaring response.
"Spending the whole night reading, geez, you're worse then Hermione. I bet even she sleeps at least part of the night!" Harry exclaimed. "I'd never do something like that." he proudly announced.
/Which might explain the reason why we've nearly gotten prematurely terminated so often./ his clothes acidly commented. /Had our store of knowledge been greater, several unfortunate situations could have been easily avoided or at the very least greatly simplified./
"Shut up." Harry ordered.
/We will not be silenced. We are correct and we know it./ was the firm response. /We need to learn more then what we know now. We need to expand our knowledge and eradicate our failings. Survival is essential and knowledge is essential for survival. Better to succeed by being overly prepared, then fail because of ignorance./ the voice insisted.
"I'm just a kid, I can't spend all my time with my nose buried in a book like Hermione! I'll get just as loony as she is." Harry protested.
/Would we still be alive today, without her? Knowledge is power./ the voice insisted. /We are not advocating to solely pursue knowledge, but it would be extremely highly recommended for us to devote more time to it then our current quota. While there is a certain intermingling of knowledge between Host and Symbiote, we still need practise and study for it to fully take hold./
/Waitwaitwait... Symbiote/ Harry interjected, hung up on one part of the explanation he'd just received. /You're a symbiote? A parasite/
/We are one./ was the simple response, as if that explained anything.
/But before we were one, what were you/ Harry asked.
/Before Self and Host were one, Host was Host and Self was Self./ his clothes agreed.
/And after/
/We were and are one./
/Symbiote/ Harry thought and scratched the back of his head, trying to recollect what little he could recall about symbiosis. /You, Self, joined with me for some sort of reason, probably because you get something out of being one with me. What do you get out of it/
/Self is incapable of sustaining life without Host. Without Host, Self enters hibernation until joined with Host or until all energy fades away and Self is prematurely terminated./ was the somewhat sullen response.
/So, without a Host, you die? Without energy, you die. Energy that you take from me/ Harry mentally raved.
/Correct. Self needs energy for continued existence, energy currently provided by Host. We are one./ the symbiotic life-form replied. /Very little energy is required. Little enough that Host will not notice the loss nor be affected by it./ it added, probably because it sensed how freaked Harry got over having his 'energy' leeched from him by some strange organism.
/What do I get out of it? Other then never having to buy clothes ever again/ Harry asked.
/We are one. Self will protect Host. As Host has noticed already, we are strong. We are more then ten times as strong as Host was alone. We are powerful, Host has more then three times the magic power Host had before Self and Host became one. Self can restore Host, heal injuries inflicted upon Host. Self can repair defects on Host. We can hide, Host cannot be located when we are one. Self and Host partially shares knowledge./ the symbiote responded.
/Partially/ Harry inquired.
/Knowledge is shared imperfectly between Host and Self. Upon joining, Self gained all of Hosts knowledge. What Host learns after we became one, Self needs to learn separately. Self will have easier time of it because of Host knowing, however. Same goes for Host. Host will have easier time learning knowledge Self already knows. Host still needs to learn on Hosts own, however./ the symbiote replied.
/Do you have a name/ Harry asked.
/Self does not. Self has never required one./ was the simple response.
/Well, now you do. I'm going to call you... ... Sym./ Harry decided after a few moments.
/Self is... Sym? Self has a name/ Sym inquired sceptically.
/Yes. You're Sym. I can't go around calling you 'you' all of the time./ Harry insisted.
/Very well, Self has a name. Self is Sym./ Sym agreed, though the note was somewhat bewildered and sceptical. /Sym recommends that we study the books Sym has provided. We need knowledge for sustained existence and prevention of Hosts premature termination./
"Bah, perhaps I should have simply called you Hermione the second." Harry groaned and let out a tired sigh. /Whatever, I don't have time to study right now. I have to get in contact with my friends and Dumbledore, let them know where I am and that I'm all right./
/Sym is aware that Host has obligations. But Sym has suggestion. Sym suggests for us to remain where we are until Hogwarts-school begins anew. Host needs to be prepared, Dumbledore-headmaster and Host-friends will interfere in preparations, provide distractions./ Sym explained.
"Hermione won't. She'll be thrilled and drive me even harder then you ever could." Harry snorted.
Though he couldn't deny that Ron would most likely provide 'distraction'. He didn't know about Dumbledore, but perhaps Sym was right about him as well. The Headmaster certainly hadn't been a stranger to meddling in his life before and would most likely try to do so again.
But it was a whole month left until the start of the next term, being alone with the freaky symbiote until then, would drive him bonkers!
Besides, once news got out that Privet Drive number four was no more and he wasn't there any longer, his friends would get worried.
Or so he hoped, at least. Seeing as how none of them had contacted him so far during this summer, perhaps they weren't as good friends as he had thought they were.
On second thought, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to be incommunicado for a bit. Let them get a taste of their own medicine for a while!
"Sweat of pig, tear of dog, powdered Belladonna, bark of Birch... Hey, Sym. What was the fifth ingredient?" Harry absently asked as he prepared the first part of a potion from one of the books Sym had provided him with. It would have to simmer on low heat for nearly three days, before the rest of the ingredients could be added.
/Milk from the creature known as goat./ Sym replied while the two tentacles the symbiote had extended from the back of his t-shirt scrawled some runes on a piece of parchment on the desk behind Harry.
While it had taken quite a lot to get used to the weird creature now fused with him, Harry had to admit that there were significant advantages to having Sym around. Sym had a near perfect memory, could read faster then Hermione had ever dreamt of and could provide Harry with as many helping hands as he could possibly wish for.
It was also true that while it would have been better if he could simply access all of Sym's knowledge directly, it did make it a whole lot easier to learn things that Sym already knew about. If Sym had already read a book, Harry only needed to read it once himself to get at the very least the lion's share of whatever subject the book covered. He could learn the rest from talking with Sym, who sometimes appeared annoyingly intelligent.
Though Sym was surprisingly ignorant in some areas.
When it came to learning magic tricks that Sym already knew about, Harry also only needed to read about it once, then practise whatever wand moments were required and get the pronunciation correct, then practise whatever spell, charm or jinx he was trying to learn two or three times, before he stood a reasonable chance to actually succeed.
That was another truly great thing about Sym. Sym had assured Harry that being one, made it nearly impossible to locate them by any means other then actually seeing them. A few test runs had proven this to be true. Harry had even used his own blood, the supposedly strongest link available, but was still unable to scry for himself.
And he knew where he was!
Seeing as how Sym could also provide him with a wand, he could also practise magic whenever he wanted. The Sym-wand was untraceable, so the ministry wouldn't know about him using magic if he used the Sym-wand. His own wand was another matter. While Sym prevented him from being located, the wand would still let the ministry know that he had used magic, even if they couldn't track him down and wail on him for using magic while underage.
Or that was the theory, at least. He hadn't used his wand, but both he and Sym had read up on wands, tracking charms and the means the ministry used to keep tabs on the wands of underage wizards and witches. Both of them had reached the conclusion that the ministry would still know if he used magic, even if they couldn't tell where he was.
So, he'd left the wand in his trunk and counted on Sym to provide him with a wand whenever he wanted to use magic.
Or whenever Sym wanted to do the same.
That was another cool thing about Sym. Sym could actually cast some minor jinxes and charms on its own. It had truly atrocious power levels, however. Just barely above that of a squib, enough to cast some minor hexes, but little else.
The wand Sym provided, while great in its untraceability, did have a downside however. It was by far less powerful then his original one. Whatever he cast with a wand provided by Sym had significantly less kick then he recalled his old wand having. However, he could use and practise magic outside of Hogwarts with it, which was simply awesome!
Harry felt pretty damn good about himself. For the entire first week, he'd been bored to tears. But after that, he'd started to enjoy some time on his own and started to really appreciate just how much he learned from his studies. Sym was one hell of a teaching aid. In the three weeks he'd spent at the Brown Hotel, he'd managed to get way ahead the rest of his age group. He was currently working on sixth-year-level material and was reasonably certain that he'd get A or E grades on all his OWL's if he took them right now and at the very least, acceptable grades, if he took his NEWT's before the year was over.
He missed his friends and he was dying to know if Hedwig had made it, but with Sym around, no owls could locate him. Not even the one owl he was most wishing to see come through his window.
The Wizarding world was in an uproar, apparently. Sym had insisted on requesting for both the Daily Prophet and The Quibbler to be delivered to his room every day, to keep up with what was going on in the outside world.
For the first week, nothing had been mentioned at all about the famous Harry Potter currently being missing. But on the eight day after his disappearance, The Quibbler had it as front-page news. The day after, The Prophet had an article of it's own about it. Ever since, both publications had at least one article a day about the search for the-boy-who-lived.
Harry found it somewhat amusing to read about it from both perspectives. The Prophet was a serious publication, only publishing official statements from the Ministry of Magic about his disappearance. The Quibbler published whatever they could make up, as far as he could tell.
He really liked the article about him having been contacted by the lost Tsar family of Russia, going underground in order to marry into the family and taking control over Russia, with the immortal monk Rasputin as his mentor.
Though the one about him living with the Massai in Africa to get away from the pressures of school was also a hoot.
The one with the rumour about him having been kidnapped by servants of 'you-know-who' and brainwashed into becoming one of his followers, had been less then amusing however. After reading that, he had almost broken his silence and sent off a couple of owls to the people he knew, as well as The Quibbler for publishing such a load of utter crap.
He rarely left his hotel room and whenever he did, he did so in disguise. Sym was a marvel when it came to that. Sym could cover the entirety of Harry's body and morph into whatever shape the two of them desired, changing his entire appearance. Since he used Neville's name, he'd mostly went around as Neville.
Though the one time he'd actually spotted Neville in Diagon Alley, he'd rapidly changed his appearance to that of Draco Malfoy and even traded a few spiteful insults with Neville, before the two of them parted ways.
Bumping into Draco only minutes after that could have been a disaster, if Sym hadn't provided him with a hooded cloak during their excursion, giving him time to change his appearance before Draco got close enough to see underneath the hood and recognize his own features. So Harry had changed back into Neville and traded a different series of insults with the real Draco, this time playing the part of Neville.
It was great!
When the Aurors made a sweep of the alley in search for Harry Potter, he'd even been checked for glamour's by a stern-looking Auror who introduced himself as Auror Shacklebolt. But as Sym didn't use magic to change shape, there had been no glamour's to find and the trained Auror had been unable to tell that the person he was currently checking actually was Harry Potter.
He exhaled with relief as the potion finally turned into the desired colour and he glared sceptically at it for a few moments, before he once again found himself smirking at his own success. With Sym around to properly explain things and without an intimidating teacher berating his every move, he found to his immense surprise that he actually enjoyed Potions.
An even greater surprise was that he actually appeared to be rather good at it!
He couldn't wait until school started and he got the chance to show that good-for-nothing-teacher just how much he'd improved over the summer! Snape would be blown away!
Speaking of getting back to school, he only had four more days until school would start again.
Perhaps it was time to break his exile and let people know that he was still around and would be returning to school after all.
He lowered the heat and let the potion simmer according to the recipe, then turned around to observe what Sym was doing. The tentacles never wavered in their work, they simply shifted the place where they extended from his back until they were extended from his chest instead.
/What are you working on/ Harry asked.
/The Goblin alphabet./ Sym responded distractedly, slowly and carefully filling the paper with odd-looking runes. /A NEWT-level Ancient Runes assignment from five years ago./ it added by the way of explanation as a tendril extended from one of the tentacles and indicated a scroll on the desk next to the parchment.
One of the things the two of them had left the room to acquire, was old school notes, papers and books from old Hogwarts-students, which they had used to practise their new skills with. It also gave them a general indication of what things they might need to focus on more then others in their joint studies.
/I hope you haven't used up all the parchment. I was going to write a few letters to let people know that I'm still alive./ Harry thought at his constant companion.
/I have not./ Sym responded indignantly, causing Harry to chuckle with amusement.
While Sym was still incredibly formal-sounding at most times, it had grown more 'human' over their isolation, gaining a better understanding of some human emotions and traits. Humour, sarcasm and irony were apparently lost causes, however. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get Sym to understand.
Telling outright lies was another thing Sym had problems dealing with. At least to begin with. He had no problems with avoidance, but telling lies seemed nearly impossible to do. Though after a few weeks of hiding and subterfuge, Sym had gained a certain amount of appreciation for this odd activity. While Sym never lied to him, at least not as far as Harry knew, he was certainly quick enough to suggest lies for Harry to tell.
/Good./ Harry responded with a faint smile. /I'm surprised that you aren't protesting against it, actually./ he added, seeing as how Sym had constantly argued against it whenever he had brought it up before during their time together.
/Our mind is made up./ Sym reasoned. /Besides, it matters little at this point. We have improved significantly during our self-imposed exile. We are far more prepared to face the world then we were previously./
/You got that right. I'm actually looking forward to studying with Hermione now, it'll be fun to watch her jaw drop./ Harry thought, chuckling at the mental imagery.
/I fail to see the humour in the situation./ Sym informed him.
/You always do./ Harry agreed, not bothering even trying to explain it for the alien being.
Harry hastily wrote a few letters. Ron and Hermione deserved to hear from him. He even added two notes to Mrs Weasly and Ginny in the letter he would be sending to Ron. McGonagall got another one, seeing as how she was usually the one to sign the letters he got before each term. He also asked her to let Dumbledore and Hagrid know that he was all right. Since no owl had been able to locate him, he didn't know what this years letter had said, if they'd even bothered to send him one, but he figured he should let them know that he was still planning to attend school this year.
He wrote two others, one for The Prophet and one for The Quibbler. Sym assisted him somewhat. While Sym had never written a letter in its entire existence, the formal language that Sym used was useful here. Harry simply told Sym what he wanted to say, then had Sym repeat it in it's own words, which was what Harry wrote down in these two letters.
Once he was finished, he left the hotel disguised as Neville Longbottom and headed for the local Post Owlery, where he had to fork out five galleons for the use of their owls to deliver his letters. He didn't care much about it, he certainly had money enough to do so.
Once he was through, he went down to the hotel restaurant where he ate his supper, before he returned to his room for another bout of training.
The End! ( For now... )